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MY LIFE IN THE SOUTH.
[Illustration: JACOB STROYER.]
MY LIFE IN THE SOUTH.
BY
JACOB STROYER.
NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION.
SALEM, MASS.:
Newcomb & Gauss, Printers.
1898.
* * * * *
Salem, Mass., September 19, 1898.
Mr. Stroyer's account of his experience in slavery and during the war is
of great interest and value as a trustworthy description of the
condition and life of slaves _by one of themselves_. His memory is
remarkably keen and his narrative vivid and at times both touching and
thrilling. The book is a great credit to its author and deserves a
generous reception and a wide circulation.
John Wright Buckham.
* * * * *
August 13, 1879.
In this book Mr. Stroyer has given us, with a most simple and effective
realism, the inside view of the institution of slavery. It is worth
reading, to know how men, intelligent enough to report their experience,
felt under the yoke. The time has come when American slavery can be
studied historically, without passion, save such as mixes itself with
the wonder that so great an evil could exist so long as a social form or
a political idol. The time has not come when such study is unnecessary;
for to deal justly by white or black in the United States, their
previous relations must be understood, and nothing which casts light on
the most universal and practical of those relations is without value
today. I take pleasure, therefore, in saying that I consider Mr. Stroyer
a competent and trustworthy witness to these details of plantation life.
E.C. Bolles.
* * * * *
City of Salem, Mayor's Office,
Nov. 5, 1884.
This is to certify that since the year 1876 I have known Rev. Jacob
Stroyer as a preacher and minister to the colored people of this city.
He is earnest, devoted and faithful.
He is endeavoring by the sale of this book to realize the means to
enable him, by a course of study, to better fit himself as a minister to
preach in the South.
I most cheerfully commend him in his praiseworthy efforts.
Wm. M. Hill, _Mayor_.
* * * * *
Mr. Stroyer's book is a setting forth in a fresh and unique manner of
the old and bitter wrongs of American slavery. It is an inside view of a
phase of our national life which has happily passed away forever.
Although it concerns itself largely with incidents and details, it is
not without the historical value which attaches to reliable personal
reminiscences. The author has made commendable progress in intellectual
culture, and is worthy of generous assistance in his effort to fit
himself still more perfectly for labor among his needy brethren in the
South.
E.S. Atwood.
* * * * *
PREFACE.
Fourth Edition.
When the author first presented his book to the public he did not
anticipate the very great favor with which it would be received. The
first edition was soon disposed of, a second and a third were called
for, and those were as generously received as had been their
predecessors. The present edition, the fourth, besides all that was in
those former publications, contains some new material relating to the
author's personal experiences in the Civil War.
Thanking the people for the support given, and hoping that this latest
effort will meet approval, the author presents the story of himself and
his once oppressed brethren.
CHAPTER I.
My father was born in Sierra Leone, Africa. Of his parents and his
brothers and sisters I know nothing. I only remember that it was said
that his father's name was Moncoso, and his mother's Mongomo, which
names are known only among the native Africans. He was brought from
Africa when but a boy, and sold to old Colonel Dick Singleton, who owned
a great many plantations in South Carolina, and when the old colonel
divided his property among his children, father fell to the second son,
Col. M.R. Singleton.
Mother never was sold, but her parents were; they were owned by one Mr.
Crough, who sold them and the rest of the slaves, with the plantation,
to Col. Dick Singleton, upon whose place mother was born. I was born on
this extensive plantation, twenty-eight miles southeast of Columbia,
South Carolina, in the year 1849. I belonged to Col. M.R. Singleton, and
was held in slavery up to the time of the emancipation proclamation
issued by President Lincoln.
THE CHILDREN.
My father had fifteen children: four boys and three girls by his first
wife and eight by his second. Their names were as follows: of the
boys--Toney, Aszerine, Duke and Dezine; of the girls--Violet, Priscilla,
and Lydia. Those of his second wife were as follows: Footy, Embrus,
Caleb, Mitchell, Cuffey and Jacob, and of the girls, Catherine and
Retta.
SAND HILL DAYS.
Col. M.R. Singleton was like many other rich slave owners in the South,
who had summer seats four, six or eight miles from the plantation, where
they carried the little negro boys and girls too small to work.
Our summer seat, or the sand hill, as the slaves used to call it, was
four miles from the plantation. Among the four hundred and sixty-five
slaves owned by the colonel there were a great many children. If my
readers had visited Col. Singleton's plantation the last of May or the
first of June in the days of slavery, they would have seen three or four
large plantation wagons loaded with little negroes of both sexes, of
various complexions and conditions, who were being carried to this
summer residence, and among them they would have found the author of
this little work in his sand-hill days.
My readers would naturally ask how many seasons these children were
taken to the summer seats? I answer, until, in the judgment of the
overseer, they were large enough to work; then they were kept at the
plantation. How were they fed? There were three or four women who were
too old to work on the plantation who were sent as nurses to the summer
seats with the children; they did the cooking. The way in which these
old women cooked for 80, and sometimes 150 children, in my sand-hill
days, was this:--they had two or three large pots, which held about a
bushel each, in which they used to cook corn flour, stirred with large
wooden paddles. The food was dealt out with the paddles into each
child's little wooden tray or tin pail, which was furnished by the
parents according to their ability.
With this corn flour, which the slaves called mush, each child used to
get a gill of sour milk brought daily from the plantation in a large
wooden pail on the head of a boy or man. We children used to like the
sour milk, or hard clabber as it was called by the slaves; but that
seldom changed diet, namely the mush, was hated worse than medicine. Our
hatred was increased against the mush from the fact that they used to
give us molasses to eat with it, instead of clabber. The hateful mixture
made us anxious for Sundays to come, when our mothers, fathers, sisters
and brothers would bring something from the plantation, which, however
poor, we considered very nice, compared with what we had during the week
days. Among the many desirable things our parents brought us the most
delightful was cow pease, rice, and a piece of bacon, cooked together;
the mixture was called by the slaves "hopping John."
THE STORY OF GILBERT.
A few large boys were sent yearly to the sand-hill among the smaller
ones, as guides. At the time to which I am referring there was one by
the name of Gilbert, who used to go around with the smaller boys in the
woods to gather bushes and sticks for the old women to cook our food
with.
Gilbert was a cruel boy. He used to strip his little fellow negroes
while in the woods, and whip them two or three times a week, so that
their backs were all scarred, and threatened them with severer
punishment if they told; this state of things had been going on for
quite a while. As I was a favorite with Gilbert, I always had managed to
escape a whipping, with the promise of keeping the secret of the
punishment of the rest, which I did, not so much that I was afraid of
Gilbert, as because I always was inclined to mind my own business. But
finally, one day, Gilbert said to me, "Jake," as he used to call me,
"you am a good boy, but I'm gwine to wip you some to-day, as I wip dem
toder boys." Of course I was required to strip off my only garment,
which was an Osnaburg linen shirt, worn by both sexes of the negro
children in the summer. As I stood trembling before my merciless
superior, who had a switch in his hand, thousands of thoughts went
through my little mind as to how to get rid of the whipping. I finally
fell upon a plan which I hoped would save me from a punishment that was
near at hand. There were some carpenters in the woods, some distance
from us, hewing timber; they were far away, but it was a clear morning,
so we could hear their voices and the sound of the axes. Having resolved
in my mind what I would do. I commenced reluctantly to take off my
shirt, at the same time pleading with Gilbert, who paid no attention to
my prayer, but said, "Jake, I is gwine to wip you to-day as I did dem
toder boys." Having satisfied myself that no mercy was to be found with
Gilbert, I drew my shirt off and threw it over his head, and bounded
forward on a run in the direction of the sound of the carpenters. By the
time he got from the entanglement of my garment, I had quite a little
start of him. Between my starting point and the place where the
carpenters were at work I jumped over some bushes five or six feet high.
Gilbert soon gained upon me, and sometimes touched me with his hands,
but as I had on nothing for him to hold to, he could not take hold of
me. As I began to come in sight of the carpenters, Gilbert begged me not
to go to them, for he knew that it would be bad for him, but as that was
not a time for me to listen to his entreaties, I moved on faster. As I
got near to the carpenters, one of them ran and met me, into whose arms
I jumped. The man into whose arms I ran was Uncle Benjamin, my mother's
uncle. As he clasped me in his arms, he said, "Bres de Lo, my son, wat
is de matter?" But I was so exhausted that it was quite a while before I
could tell him my trouble; when recovered from my breathless condition,
I told him that Gilbert had been in the habit of stripping the boys and
whipping them two or three times a week, when we went into the woods,
and threatened them with greater punishment if they told. I said he had
never whipped me before, but I was cautioned to keep the secret, which I
had done up to this time; but he said he was going to whip me this
morning, so I threw my shirt over his head and ran here for protection.
Gilbert did not follow me after I got in sight of the carpenters, but
sneaked away. Of course my body was all bruised and scratched by the
bushes. Acting as a guide for Uncle Benjamin, I took him to where I had
left my garment.
At this time the children were scattered around in the woods, waiting
for what the trouble would bring; They all were gathered up and taken to
the sand-hill house, examined, and it was found, as I have stated, that
their backs were all scarred. Gilbert was brought to trial, severely
whipped, and they made him beg all the children to pardon him for his
treatment to them. But he never was allowed to go into the woods with
the rest of the children during that season. My sand-hill associates
always thanked me for the course I took, which saved them and myself
from further punishment by him.
MASTER AND MISTRESS VISITING.
When master and mistress were to visit their little negroes at the
sand-hill, the news was either brought by the overseer who resided at
the above named place, and went back and forth to the plantation, or by
one of master's house servants, a day ahead. The preparation required to
receive our white guests was that each little negro was to be washed,
and clad in the best dress he or she had. But before this was done, the
unsuccessful attempt was made to straighten out our unruly wools with
some small cards, or Jim-Crows as we called them.
On one occasion an old lady, by the name of Janney Cuteron, attempted to
straighten out my wool with one of those Jim-crows; as she hitched the
teeth of the instrument in my unyielding wool with her great masculine
hand, of course I was jerked flat on my back. This was the common fate
of most of my associates, whose wools were of the same nature, but with
a little water and the strong application of the Jim-crow, the old lady
soon combed out my wool into some sort of shape.
As our preparations were generally completed three-quarters of an hour
before our guests came, we were placed in line, the boys together and
the girls by themselves. We were then drilled in the art of addressing
our expected visitors. The boys were required to bend the body forward
with head down, and rest the body on the left foot, and scrape the
right foot backward on the ground, while uttering the words, "how dy
Massie and Missie." The girls were required to use the same words,
accompanied with a courtesy. But when Master and Mistress had left, the
little African wools were neglected until the news of their next visit.
Our sand-hill days were very pleasant, outside of the seldom changed
diet, namely the mush, which we had sometimes to eat with molasses, the
treatment of Gilbert, and the attempt to straighten out our unruly
wools.
I said that my father was brought from Africa when but a boy, and was
sold to old Col. Dick Singleton; and when the children were of age, the
Colonel divided his plantations among them, and father fell to Col. M.K.
Singleton, who was the second son.
On this large plantation there were 465 slaves; there were not so many
when it was given to Col. M.R., but increased to the above stated
number, up to the time of emancipation.
My father was not a field hand; my first recollection of him was that he
used to take care of hogs and cows in the swamp, and when too old for
that work he was sent to the plantation to take care of horses and
mules, as master had a great many for the use of his farm.
I have stated that father said that his father's name in Africa was
Moncoso, and his mother's Mongomo, but I never learned what name he went
by before he was brought to this country. I only know that he stated
that Col. Dick Singleton gave him the name of William, by which he was
known up to the day of his death. Father had a surname, Stroyer, which
he could not use in public, as the surname Stroyer would be against the
law; he was known only by the name of William Singleton, because that
was his master's name. So the title Stroyer was forbidden him, and could
be used only by his children after the emancipation of the slaves.
There were two reasons given by the slave holders why they did not allow
a slave to use his own name, but rather that of the master. The first
was that, if he ran away, he would not be so easily detected by using
his own name as by that of his master. The second was that to allow him
to use his own name would be sharing an honor which was due only to his
master, and that would be too much for a negro, said they, who was
nothing more than a servant. So it was held as a crime for a slave to be
caught using his own name, a crime which would expose him to severe
punishment. But thanks be to God that those days have passed, and we now
live under the sun of liberty.
MOTHER.
Mother's name was Chloe. She belonged to Col. M.R. Singleton too; she
was a field hand, and never was sold, but her parents were once.
Mr. Crough who, as I have said had owned this plantation on which mother
lived, had sold the plantation to Col. Dick Singleton, with mother's
parents on it, before she was born.
Most of the family from which mother came, had trades of some kind; some
were carpenters, some were blacksmiths, some house servants, and others
were made drivers over the other negroes. Of course the negro drivers
would be under a white man, who was called the overseer. Sometimes the
negro drivers were a great deal worse to their fellow negroes than were
the white men.
Mother had an uncle by the name of Esau, whom master thought more of
than he did of the overseer. Uncle Esau was more cruel than was any
white man master ever had on his plantation. Many of the slaves used to
run away from him into the woods. I have known some of the negroes to
run away from the cruel treatment of Uncle Esau, and to stay off eight
or ten months. They were so afraid of him that they used to say that
they would rather see the devil than to see him; they were glad when he
died. But while so much was said of Uncle Esau, which was also true of
many other negro drivers, the overseers themselves were not guiltless of
cruelty to the defenceless slaves.
I have said that most of the family from which mother came had trades of
some kind; but she had to take her chance in the field with those who
had to weather the storm. But my readers are not to think that those
whom I have spoken of as having trades were free from punishment, for
they were not; some of them had more trouble than had the field hands.
At times the overseer, who was a white man, would go to the shop of the
blacksmith, or carpenter, and would pick a quarrel with him, so as to
get an opportunity to punish him. He would say to the negro, "Oh, ye
think yourself as good as ye master, ye--" Of course he knew what the
overseer was after, so he was afraid to speak; the overseer, hearing no
answer, would turn to him and cry out, "ye so big ye can't speak to me,
ye--," and then the conflict would begin, and he would give that man
such a punishment as would disable him for two or three months. The
merciless overseer would say to him, "Ye think because ye have a trade
ye are as good as ye master, ye--; but I will show ye that ye are
nothing but a nigger."
I said that my father had two wives and fifteen children: four boys and
three girls by the first, and six boys and two girls by the second wife.
Of course he did not marry his wives as they do now, as it was not
allowed among the slaves, but he took them as his wives by mutual
agreement. He had my mother after the death of his first wife. I am the
third son of his second wife.
My readers would very naturally like to know whether some of the slaves
did not have more than one woman. I answer, they had; for as they had no
law to bind them to one woman, they could have as many as they pleased
by mutual agreement. But notwithstanding, they had a sense of the moral
law, for many of them felt that it was right to have but one woman; they
had different opinions about plurality of wives, as have the most
educated and refined among the whites.
I met one of my fellow negroes one day, who lived next neighbor to us,
and I said to him, "Well, Uncle William, how are you, to-day?" His
answer was "Thank God, my son, I have two wives now, and must try and
make out with them until I get some more." But while you will find many
like him, others would rebuke the idea of having more than one wife.
But, thanks be to God, the day has come when no one need to plead
ignorance, for master and servant are both bound by the same law.
I did not go to the sand-hill, or summer seat, my alloted time, but
stopped on the plantation with father, as I said that he used to take
care of horses and mules. I was around with him in the barn yard when
but a very small boy; of course that gave me an early relish for the
occupation of hostler, and I soon made known my preference to Col.
Singleton, who was a sportsman, and an owner of fine horses. And,
although I was too small to work, the Colonel granted my request; hence
I was allowed to be numbered among those who took care of the fine
horses, and learned to ride. But I soon found that my new occupation
demanded a little more than I cared for.
It was not long after I had entered my new work before they put me upon
the back of a horse which threw me to the ground almost as soon as I had
reached his back. It hurt me a little, but that was not the worst of it,
for when I got up there was a man standing near with a switch, in hand,
and he immediately began to beat me. Although I was a very bad boy, this
was the first time I had been whipped by any one except father and
mother, so I cried out in a tone of voice as if I would say, this is the
first and last whipping you will give me when father gets hold of you.
When I had got away from him I ran to father with all my might, but soon
found my expectation blasted, as father very coolly said to me, "Go back
to your work and be a good boy, for I cannot do anything for you." But
that did not satisfy me, so on I went to mother with my complaint and
she came out to the man who had whipped me; he was a groom, a white man
master had hired to train the horses. Mother and he began to talk, then
he took a whip and started for her, and she ran from him, talking all
the time. I ran back and forth between mother and him until he stopped
beating her. After the fight between the groom and mother, he took me
back to the stable yard and gave me a severe flogging. And, although
mother failed to help me at first, still I had faith that when he had
taken me back to the stable yard, and commenced whipping me, she would
come and stop him, but I looked in vain, for she did not come.
Then the idea first came to me that I, with my dear father and mother
and the rest of my fellow negroes, was doomed to cruel treatment through
life, and was defenceless. But when I found that father and mother could
not save me from punishment, as they themselves had to submit to the
same treatment, I concluded to appeal to the sympathy of the groom, who
seemed to have full control over me; but my pitiful cries never touched
his sympathy, for things seemed to grow worse rather than better; so I
made up my mind to stem the storm the best I could.
I have said that Col. Singleton had fine horses, which he kept for
racing, and he owned two very noted ones, named Capt. Miner and
Inspector. Perhaps some of my readers have already heard of Capt. Miner,
for he was widely known, having won many races in Charlestown and
Columbia, S.C., also in Augusta, Ga., and New York. He was a dark bay,
with short tail. Inspector was a chestnut sorrel, and had the reputation
of being a very great horse. These two horses have won many thousand
dollars for the the colonel. I rode these two horses a great many times
in their practice gallops, but never had the opportunity to ride them
in a race before Col. Singleton died, for he did not live long after I
had learned so that I could ride for money. The custom was, that when a
boy had learned the trade of a rider, he would have to ride what was
known as a trial, in the presence of a judge, who would approve or
disapprove his qualifications to be admitted as a race rider, according
to the jockey laws of South Carolina at that time.
I have said that I loved the business and acquired the skill very early,
and this enabled me to pass my examination creditably, and to be
accepted as a capable rider, but I passed through some very severe
treatment before reaching that point.
This white man who trained horses for Col. Singleton was named Boney
Young; he had a brother named Charles, who trained for the colonel's
brother, John Singleton. Charles was a good man, but Boney our trainer,
was as mean as Charles was good; he could smile in the face of one who
was suffering the most painful death at his hands.
One day, about two weeks after Boney Young and mother had the conflict,
he called me to him, as though he were in the pleasantest mood; he was
singing. I ran to him as if to say by action, I will do anything you bid
me, willingly. When I got to him he said, "Go and bring me a switch,
sir." I answered, "yes, sir," and off I went and brought him one; then
he said, "come in here, sir;" I answered, "yes, sir;" and I went into a
horse's stall, but while I was going in a thousand thoughts passed
through my mind as to what he wanted me to go into the stall for, but
when I had got in I soon learned, for he gave me a first-class
flogging.
A day or to after that he called me in the same way, and I went again,
and he sent me for a switch. I brought him a short stubble that was worn
out, which he took and beat me on the head with. Then he said to me, "Go
and bring me a switch, sir;" I answered "Yes, sir;" and off I went the
second time, and brought him one very little better than the first; he
broke that over my head also, saying, "Go and bring me a switch, sir;" I
answered, "Yes, sir," and off I went the third time, and brought one
which I supposed would suit him. Then he said to me, "Come in here,
sir." I answered, "Yes, sir." When I went into the stall, he told me to
lie down, and I stooped down; he kicked me around for a while, then,
making me lie on my face, he whipped me to his satisfaction.
That evening when I went home to father and mother, I said to them, "Mr.
Young is whipping me too much now, I shall not stand it, I shall fight
him." Father said to me, "You must not do that, because if you do he
will say that your mother and I advised you to do it, and it will make
it hard for your mother and me, as well as for yourself. You must do as
I told you, my son: do your work the best you can, and do not say
anything." I said to father, "But I don't know what I have done that he
should whip me; he does not tell me what wrong I have done, he simply
calls me to him and whips me when he gets ready." Father said, "I can do
nothing more than to pray to the Lord to hasten the time when these
things shall be done away; that is all I can do." When mother had
stripped me and looked at the wounds that were upon me she burst into
tears, and said, "If he were not so small I would not mind it so much;
this will break his constitution; I am going to master about it, because
I know he will not allow Mr. Young to treat this child so."
And I thought to myself that had mother gone to master about it, it
would have helped me some, for he and she had grown up together and he
thought a great deal of her. But father said to mother, "You better not
go to master, for while he might stop the child from being treated
badly, Mr. Young may revenge himself through the overseer, for you know
that they are very friendly to each other." So said father to mother,
"You would gain nothing in the end; the best thing for us to do is to
pray much over it, for I believe that the time will come when this boy
with the rest of the children will be free, though we may not live to
see it."
When father spoke of liberty his words were of great comfort to me, and
my heart swelled with the hope of a future, which made every moment seem
an hour to me.
Father had a rule, which was strictly carried out as far as possible
under the slave law, which was to put his children to bed early; but
that night the whole family sat up late, while father and mother talked
over the matter. It was a custom among the slaves not to allow their
children under certain ages to enter into conversation with them; hence
we could take no part with father and mother. As I was the object of
their sympathy, I was allowed the privilege of answering the questions
about the whipping the groom gave me.
When the time came for us to go to bed we all knelt down in family
prayer, as was our custom; father's prayer seemed more real to me that
night than ever before, especially in the words, "Lord, hasten the time
when these children shall be their own free men and women."
My faith in father's prayer made me think that the Lord would answer him
at the farthest in two or three weeks, but it was fully six years before
it came, and father had been dead two years before the war.
After prayer we all went to bed; next morning father went to his work in
the barn-yard, mother to hers in the field, and I to mine among the
horses; before I started, however, father charged me carefully to keep
his advice, as he said that would be the easiest way for me to get
along.
But in spite of father's advice, I had made up my mind not to submit to
the treatment of Mr. Young as before, seeing that it did not help me
any. Things went smoothly for a while, until he called me to him, and
ordered me to bring him a switch. I told him that I would bring him no
more switches for him to whip me with, but that he must get them
himself. After repeating the command very impatiently, and I refusing,
he called to another boy named Hardy, who brought the switch, and then
taking me into the stall he whipped me unmercifully.
After that he made me run back and forth every morning from a half to
three quarters of an hour about two hundred and fifty yards, and every
now and then he would run after me, and whip me to make me run faster.
Besides that, when I was put upon a horse, if it threw me he would whip
me, if it were five times a day. So I did not gain anything by refusing
to bring switches for him to whip me with.
One very cold morning in the month of March, I came from home without
washing my face, and Mr. Young made two of the slave boys take me down
to a pond where the horses and mules used to drink; they threw me into
the water and rubbed my face with sand until it bled, then I was made to
run all the way to the stable, which was about a quarter of a mile. This
cruel treatment soon hardened me so that I did not care for him at all.
A short time afterwards I was sent with the other boys about four or
five miles from home, up the public road, to practice the horse, and
they gave me a very wild animal to ride, which threw me very often. Mr.
Young did not go with us, but sent a colored groom every morning, who
was very faithful to every task alloted him; he was instructed to whip
me every time the horse threw me while away from home. I got many little
floggings by the colored groom, as the horse threw me, a great many
times, but the floggings I got from him were very feeble compared with
those of the white man; hence I was better content to go away with the
colored groom than to be at home where I should have worse punishment.
But the time was coming when they ceased to whip me for being thrown by
horses. One day, as I was riding along the road, the horse that I was
upon darted at the sight of a bird, which flew across the way, throwing
me upon a pile of brush. The horse stepped on my cheek, and the head of
a nail in his shoe went through my left cheek and broke a tooth, but it
was done so quickly that I hardly felt it. It happened that he did not
step on me with his whole weight, if he had my jaw would have been
broken. When I got up the colored groom was standing by me, but he
could not whip me when he saw the blood flowing from my mouth, so he
took me down to the creek, which was but a short distance from the
place, and washed me, and then taking me home, sent for a doctor, who
dressed the wound.
When Mr. Young saw my condition, he asked how it was done, and upon
being told he said it ought to have killed me. After the doctor had
dressed my face, of course I went home, thinking they would allow me to
stay until I got well, but I had no sooner arrived than the groom sent
for me; I did not answer, as my jaw pained me very much. When he found
that I did not come, he came after me himself, and said if I did not
come to the stable right away, he would whip me, so I went with him. He
did not whip me while I was in that condition, but he would not let me
lie down, so I suffered very much from exposure.
When mother came that night from the farm and saw my condition, she was
overcome with grief; she said to father, "this wound is enough to kill
the child, and that merciless man will not let him lie down until he
gets well: this is too hard." Father said to her, "I know it is very
hard, but what can we do? for if we try to keep this boy in the house it
will cause us trouble." Mother said, "I wish they would take him out of
the world, then he would be out of pain, and we should not have to fret
about him, for he would be in heaven." Then she took hold of me and
said, "Does it hurt you, son?" meaning my face, and I said, "Yes,
mamma," and she shed tears; but she had no little toys to give me to
comfort me; she could only promise me such as she had, which were eggs
and chickens.
Father did not show his grief for me as mother did, but he tried to
comfort mother all he could, and at times would say to me, "Never mind,
my son, you will be a man bye and bye," but he did not know what was
passing through my mind at that time. Though I was very small I thought
that if, while a boy, my treatment was so severe, it would be much worse
when I became a man, and having had a chance to see how men were being
punished, it was a very poor consolation to me.
Finally the time came for us to go to bed, and we all knelt in family
prayer. Father thanked God for having saved me from a worse injury, and
then he prayed for mother's comfort, and also for the time which he
predicted would come, that is, the time of freedom, when I and the rest
of the children would be our own masters and mistresses; then he
commended us to God, and we all went to bed. The next morning I went to
my work with a great deal of pain. They did not send me up the road with
the horses in that condition, but I had to ride the old horses to water,
and work around the stable until I was well enough to go with the other
boys. But I am happy to say that from the time I got hurt by that horse
I was never thrown except through carelessness, neither was I afraid of
a horse after that.
Notwithstanding father and mother fretted very much about me, they were
proud of my success as a rider, but my hardships did not end here.
A short time after, I was taken to Columbia and Charleston, S.C., where
they used to have the races. That year Col. Singleton won a large sum
of money by the well-known horse, Capt. Miner, and that was the same
season that I rode my trial race. The next year, before the time of
racing, Col. Singleton died at his summer seat. After master's death,
mistress sold all the race horses, and that put an end to sporting
horses in that family.
I said that Boney Young, Col. Singleton's groom, had a brother by the
name of Charles, who trained horses for the colonel's brother, John
Singleton, Boney was a better trainer, but Charles was a better man to
the negroes. It was against the law for a slave to buy spirituous
liquors without a ticket, but Charles used to give the boys tickets to
buy rum and whiskey with. He also allowed them to steal the neighbor's
cows and hogs.
I remember that on one occasion his boys killed a cow belonging to a man
by the name of Le Brun; soon after the meat was brought to the stable,
Le Brun rode up on horseback with a loaded shot gun and threatened to
shoot the party with whom the beef was found. Of course the negroes'
apartments were searched; but as that had been anticipated, Mr. Young
had made them put the meat in his apartment, and, as it was against the
law of South Carolina for a white man to search another's house, or any
apartment, without very strong evidence, the meat was not found. Before
searching among the negroes, Mr. Young said to Le Brun, "You may search,
but you won't find your beef here, for my boys don't steal." Le Brun
answered, "Mr. Young, your word might be true, sir, but I would trust a
nigger with money a great deal sooner than I would with cows and hogs."
Mr. Young answered, "That might be true, but you won't find your beef
here."
After their rooms and clothes had been searched, blood was found under
some of their finger nails, which increased Le Brun's suspicion that
they were of the party who stole his cow; but Mr. Young answered, "that
blood is from rabbits my boys caught today." Mr. Le Brun tried to scare
one of the boys, to make him say it was the blood of his cow. Mr. Young
said, "Mr. Le Brun, you have searched and did not find your beef, as I
told you that you would not; also I told you that the blood under their
finger nails is from rabbits caught today. You will have to take my
word, sir, without going to further trouble; furthermore, these boys
belong to Mr. Singleton, and if you want to take further steps you will
have to see him." Finding that he was not allowed to do as he wanted to,
Mr. Le Brun made great oaths and threats as he mounted his horse to
leave, that he would shoot the very first one of those boys he should
catch near his cattle. He and Mr. Young never did agree after that.
But poor Mr. Young, as good as he was to the negroes, was an enemy to
himself, for he was a very hard drinker. People who knew him before I
did said they never had seen him drink tea, coffee, or water, but rather
rum and whiskey; he drank so hard that he used to go into a crazy fit;
he finally put an end to his life by cutting his throat with a razor, at
a place called O'Handly's race course, about three miles from Columbia,
S.C. This was done just a few days before one of the great races.
Boney Young drank, too, but not so hard as Charles. He lived until just
after the late war, and, while walking one day through one of the
streets of the above named city, dropped dead, with what was supposed to
have been heart disease.
Boney had a mulatto woman, named Moriah, who had been originally brought
from Virginia by negro traders, but had been sold to several different
masters later. The trouble was that she was very beautiful, and wherever
she was sold her mistresses became jealous of her, so that she changed
owners very often. She was finally sold to Boney Young, who had no wife;
and she lived with him until freed by the emancipation proclamation. She
had two daughters; the elder's name was Annie, but we used to call her
sissie; the younger's name was Josephine. Annie looked just like her
father, Boney Young, while Josephine looked enough like Charles to have
been his daughter. It was easy enough to tell that the mother had sprung
from the negro race, but the girls could pass for white. Their mother,
Moriah, died in Columbia some time after the war. Annie went off and was
married to a white man, but I don't know what became of Josephine.
A short time before master's death he stood security for a northern man,
who was cashier of one of the largest banks in the city of Charleston.
This man ran away with a large sum of money, leaving the colonel
embarassed, which fact made him very fretful and peevish. He had been
none too good before to his slaves, and that made him worse, as you knew
that the slave holders would revenge themselves on the slaves whenever
they became angry. I had seen master whip his slaves a great many
times, but never so severely as he did that spring before he died.
One day, before he went to his summer seat, he called a man to him,
stripped and whipped him so that the blood ran from his body like water
thrown upon him in cupfuls, and when the man stepped from the place
where he had been tied, the blood ran out of his shoes. He said to the
man, "You will remember me now, sir, as long as you live." The man
answered, "Yes, master, I will."
Master went away that spring for the last time; he never returned alive;
he died at his summer seat. When they brought his remains home all of
the slaves were allowed to stop at home that day to see the last of him,
and to lament with mistress. After all the slaves who cared to do so had
seen his face, they gathered in groups around mistress to comfort her;
they shed false tears, saying, "Never mind, missis, massa gone home to
heaven." While some were saying this, others said, "Thank God, massa
gone home to hell." Of course the most of them were glad that he was
dead; but they were gathered there for the express purpose of comforting
mistress. But after master's death mistress was a great deal worse than
he had been.
When the master died there was a great change of things on the
plantation; the creditors came in for settlement, so all of the fine
horses, and some others, such as carriage horses, and a few mules also,
were sold. The slaves whom master had bought himself had to be sold, but
those who had been born on the plantation, given to him by his father,
old Col. Dick Singleton, could not be sold until the grandchildren were
of age.
As I have stated, my hardships and trials did not end with the race
horses; you will now see them in another form.
After all the fine horses had been sold, mistress ordered the men and
boys who were taking care of the horses to be put into the field, and I
was among them, though small; but I had become so attached to the horses
that they could get no work out of me, so they began to whip me, but
every time they whipped me I would leave the field and run home to the
barn-yard.
Finally mistress engaged a very bad man as overseer, in place of old Ben
Usome, whose name was William Turner. Two or three days after his
arrival he took me into the field and whipped me until I was sick, so I
went home.
I went to mistress and told her that the overseer had whipped me; she
asked if I had done the work that he had given me. I told her that
master had promised me that, when I got too heavy to ride race horses,
he would send me to learn the carpenter's trade; she asked me if, in
case she put me to a trade, I would work, and I told her I would. So she
consented.
But the overseer did not like the idea of having me work at the trade
which was my choice. He said to mistress, "That is the worst thing you
can do, madam, to allow a negro to have his choice about what he shall
do. I have had some experience as an overseer for many years, and I
think I am able to give a correct statement about the nature of negroes
in general. I know a gentleman who allowed his negroes to have their own
way about things on his plantation, and the result was that they got as
high as their master. Besides that, madam, their influence rapidly
spreads among the neighbors, and if such should be allowed, South
Carolina would have all masters and mistresses, and no servants; and, as
I have said, I know somewhat about the nature of negroes; I notice,
madam, that this boy will put you to a great deal of trouble unless you
begin to subdue him now while he is young. A very few years' delay will
enable him to have a great influence among his fellow negroes, for that
boy can read very well now, and you know, madam, it is against the law
for a negro to get an education, and if you allow him to work at the
carpenter's trade it will thus afford him the opportunity of acquiring a
better education, because he will not be directly under the eye of one
who will see that he makes no further advancement."
Then mistress asked me, "Can you read, Jacob?" I did not want her to
know that I had taken notice of what they were saying, so I answered, "I
don't know, ma'am." The overseer said, "He does not know what is meant,
madam, but I can make him understand me." Then he took a newspaper from
his pocket and said to me, "Can you say these words?" I took the paper
and began to read, then he took it from me.
Mistress asked when I had learned to read and who had taught me. The
overseer did not know, but said he would find out from me. Turning to me
he took the paper from his pocket again, and said, "Jacob, who told you
to say words in the book?" I answered, "Nobody, sir; I said them
myself." He repeated the question three or four times, and I gave the
same answer every time. Then mistress said, "I think it would be better
to put him to trade than to have him in the field, because he will be
away from his fellow-negroes, and will be less liable to influence them
if we can manage to keep him away." The overseer said, "That might be
true, madam, but if we can manage to keep him from gaining any more
education he will eventually lose what little he has; and now, madam, if
you will allow me to take him in hand, I will bring him out all right
without injuring him." Just at this juncture a carriage drove up to the
gate, and I ran as usual to open it, the overseer went about his
business, and mistress went to speak to the persons in the carriage. I
never had a chance to hear their conclusion.
A few days after the conversation between the overseer and mistress, I
was informed by one of the slaves, who was a carpenter, that she had
ordered that I should go to work at the trade with him. This gave me
great joy, as I was very anxious to know what they had decided to do
with me. I went to my new trade with great delight, and soon began to
imagine what a famous carpenter I should make, and what I should say and
do when I had learned the trade. Everything seemed to run smoothly with
me for about two months, when suddenly I was told one morning that I
must go into the field to drop cotton seed, but I did not heed the call,
as mistress was not at home, and I knew she had just put me to the
trade, also that the overseer was trying to get mistress' consent to
have me work out in the field.
The next morning the overseer came into the carpenter's shop and said,
"Did I not order ye into the field, sir?" I answered, "Yes, sir."
"Well, why did ye not go?" I answered, "Mistress has put me here to
learn the trade." He said, "I will give ye trade." So he stripped me and
gave me a severe whipping, and told me that that was the kind of trade I
needed, and said he would give me many of them. The next day I went into
the field, and he put me to drop cotton seed, as I was too small to do
anything else. I would have made further resistance, but mistress was
very far away from home, and I had already learned the lesson that
father and mother could render me no help, so I thought submission to
him the easiest for me.
When I had got through with the cotton seed, in about three weeks, I
went back to the carpenter's shop to work; so he came there and gave me
another severe whipping, and said to me, "Ye want to learn the
carpenter's trade, but I will have ye to the trade of the field." But
that was the last whipping he gave me, and the last of his whip.
A few days after my last whipping the slaves were ordered down into the
swamp across the river to clear up new grounds, while the already
cleared lands were too wet from rain that had fallen that night. Of
course I was among them to do my part; that is, while the men quartered
up dry trees, which had been already felled in the winter, and rolled
the logs together, the women, boys and girls piled the brushes on the
logs and burned them.
We had to cross the river in a flat boat, which was too small to carry
over all the slaves at once, so they had to make several trips.
Mr. Turner, the overseer, went across in the first flat; he did not
ride down to the work place, but went on foot, while his horse, which
was trained to stand alone without being hitched, was left at the
landing place. My cousin and I crossed in the last boat. When we had got
across we lingered behind the crowd at the landing; when they all were
gone we went near the horse and saw the whip with which I was whipped a
few days before fastened to the saddle. I said to him, "Here is the whip
old Turner whipped me with the other day." He said, "It ought to be put
where he will never get it to whip anybody with again." I answered my
cousin, "If you will keep the secret I will put it where old Bill, as we
used to call Mr. Turner, will never use it any more." He agreed to keep
the secret, and then asked me how I would put the whip away. I told him
if he would find me a string and a piece of iron I would show him how.
He ran down to the swamp barn, which was a short distance from the
margin of the river, and soon returned with the string and iron exactly
suited for the work. I tied the iron to the whip, went into the flat
boat, and threw it as far as I could into the river. My cousin and I
watched it until it went out of sight under water; then, as guilty boys
generally do after mischievous deeds, we dashed off in a run, hard as we
could, among the other negroes, and acted as harmless as possible. Mr.
Turner made several inquiries, but never learned what had become of his
whip.
A short time after this, in the time of the war, in the year 1863, when
a man was going round to the different plantations gathering slaves from
their masters to carry off to work on fortifications and to wait on
officers, there were ten slaves sent from Mrs. Singleton's plantation,
and I was among them. They carried us to Sullivan's Island at
Charleston, S.C., and I was there all of that year. I thanked God that
it afforded me a better chance for an education than I had had at home,
and so I was glad to be on the island. Though I had no one to teach me,
as I was thrown among those of my fellow negroes who were fully as lame
as I was in letters, yet I felt greatly relieved from being under the
eye of the overseer, whose intention was to keep me from further
advancement. The year after I had gone home I was sent back to Fort
Sumpter--in the year 1864. I carried my spelling book with me, and,
although the northerners were firing upon us, I tried to keep up my
study.
In July of the same year I was wounded by the Union soldiers, on a
Wednesday evening. I was taken to the city of Charleston, to Dr. Regg's
hospital, and there I stayed until I got well enough to travel, when I
was sent to Columbia, where I was when the hour of liberty was
proclaimed to me, in 1865. This was the year of jubilee, the year which
my father had spoken of in the dark days of slavery, when he and mother
sat up late talking of it. He said to mother, "The time will come when
this boy and the rest of the children will be their own masters and
mistresses." He died six years before that day came, but mother is still
enjoying liberty with her children.
And no doubt my readers would like to know how I was wounded in the war.
We were obliged to do our work in the night, as they were firing on us
in the day, and on a Wednesday night, just as we went out, we heard the
cry of the watchman. "Look out." There was a little lime house near the
southwest corner of the fort, and some twelve or thirteen of us ran into
it, and all were killed but two; a shell came down on the lime house and
burst, and a piece cut my face open. But as it was not my time to die, I
lived to enjoy freedom.
I said that when I got so I could travel I was sent from Dr. Ragg's
hospital in Charleston to Col. Singleton's plantation near Columbia, in
the last part of the year 1864. I did not do any work during the
remainder of that year, because I was unwell from my wound received in
the fort.
About that time Gen. Sherman came through Georgia with his hundred
thousand men, and camped at Columbia, S.C. The slave holders were very
uneasy as to how they should save other valuables, as they saw that
slavery was a hopeless case. Mistress had some of her horses, mules,
cows and hogs carried down into the swamp, while the others which were
left on the plantation were divided out to the negroes for safe keeping,
as she had heard that the Yankees would not take anything belonging to
the slaves. A little pig of about fifty or sixty pounds was given to me
for safe keeping. A few of the old horses and mules were taken from the
plantation by the Union soldiers, but they did not trouble anything
else.
After Columbia had been burned, and things had somewhat quieted, along
in the year 1865, the negroes were asked to give up the cows and hogs
given them for safe keeping; all the rest gave up theirs, but mine was
not found. No doubt but my readers want to know what had become of it.
Well, I will tell you. You all know that Christmas was a great day with
both masters and slaves in the South, but the Christmas of 1864 was the
greatest which had ever come to the slaves, for, although the
proclamation did not reach us until 1865, we felt that the chains which
had bound us so long were well nigh broken.
So I killed the pig that Christmas, gathered all of my associates, and
had a great feast, after which we danced the whole week. Mother would
not let me have my feast in her cabin, because she was afraid that the
white people would charge her with advising me to kill the pig, so I had
it in one of the other slave's cabins.
When the overseer asked me for the pig given me, I told him that I
killed it for my Christmas feast. Mistress said to me, "Jacob, why did
you not ask me for the pig if you wanted it, rather than take it without
permission?" I answered, "I would have asked, but thought, as I had it
in hand, it wasn't any use asking for it." The overseer wanted to whip
me for it, but as Uncle Sam had already broken the right arm of slavery,
through the voice of the proclamation of 1863, he was powerless.
When the yoke had been taken from my neck I went to school in Columbia,
S.C., awhile, then to Charleston. Afterward I came to Worcester, Mass.,
in February, 1869. I studied quite a while in the evening schools at
Worcester, and also a while in the academy of the same place. During
that time I was licensed a local preacher of the African Methodist
Episcopal church, and sometime later was ordained deacon at Newport,
R.I.
A short time after my ordination I was sent to Salem, Mass., where I
have remained, carrying on religious work among my people, trying in my
feeble way to preach that gospel which our blessed Saviour intended for
the redemption of all mankind, when he proclaimed, "Go ye into all the
world and preach the gospel." In the meantime I have been striking
steady blows for the improvement of my education, in preparing myself
for a field of work among my more unfortunate brethren in the South.
I must say that I have been surrounded by many good friends, including
the clergy, since I have been in Salem, whose aid has enabled me to
serve a short term in the Wesleyan school at Wilbraham, Mass., also to
begin a course of theological studies at Talladega college in Alabama,
which I am endeavoring to complete by the sale of this publication.