"The doctor says I lost my eyesight on account of cataracts. I had an
operation and when I came home, I got to stirring around and it caused
me to have a hemorrhage of the eye. You see I couldn't stay at the
hospital because it was costing me $3 a day and I didn't have it. They
had to take one eye clean out. Nothing can be done for them, but somehow
I feel that the lord's going to let me see again. That's the way I feel
about it.
"I have lived here in this world this long and never had a fight in my
life. I have never been mistreated by a white man in my life. I always
knew my place. Some fellows get mistreated because they get out of their
place.
"I was told I couldn't stay in Benton because that was a white man's
town. I went there and they treated me white. I tried to stay with a
colored family way out. They were scared to take me. I had gone there to
attend to some business. Then I went to the sheriff and he told me that
if they were scared to have me stay at their home, I could stay at the
hotel and put my horse in the livery stable. I stayed out in the wagon
yard. But I was invited into the hotel. They took care of my horse and
fed it and they brought me my meals. The next morning, they cleaned and
curried and hitched my horse for me.
"I have voted all my life. I never had any trouble about it.
"The Ku Klux never bothered me. Nobody else ever did. If we live so that
everybody will respect us, the better class will always try to help us."
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Carry Allen Patton
Forrest City, Arkansas
Age: 71
"I was born in Shelby County, Tennessee. My parents was Tillie Watts and
Pierce Allen. He come from Louisiana reckly (directly) after the
surrender. My mother come from Virginia. She was sold in Virginia and
brought to middle Tennessee close to Murfreesboro and then brought to
Memphis and sold. She was dark and my father was too. They was living
close to Wilmar, Arkansas when the yellow fever was so bad. I don't
remember it. Heard them talk about it.
"I heard my mother say how Mr. Jake Watts saved his money from the
Yankees. They had a great big rock flat on both sides. They put on the
joints of big meat to weight it down when they salted it down in a
barrel. They didn't unjoint the meat and in the joint is where it
started to spoil. Well, he put his silver and gold in a pot. It was a
big round pot and was smaller around the top. He dug a hole after
midnight. He and his two boys James and Dock put the money in this hole
in the back yard. They covered the pot with the big flat rock and put
dirt on that and next morning they planted a good big cedar tree over
the rock, money and all.
"Old Master Jake died during the War and their house was burned but
James lived in one of the cabins in the yard. Dock went to the War. My
mother said when they left, that tree was standing.
"My mother run off. She thought she would go cook for the men in the
camps but before she got to the camps a wagon overtook her and they
stole her. They brought her to Memphis and sold her on a block. They
guarded her. She never did know who they was nor what become of them.
They kept her in the wagon on the outskirts of the city nearly a month.
One man always stayed to watch her. She was scared to death of both of
them. One of the men kept a jug of whiskey in the wagon and drunk it but
he never would get dead drunk so she could slip off.
"Mr. Johnson bought her and when the surrender come on, Master Johnson
took his family and went to Texas. She begged him to take her to nurse
but he said if it wasn't freedom he would send her back to Master James
Watts and he would let her go back then. He give her some money but she
never went back. She was afraid to start walking and before her money
give clear out she met up with my father and he talked her out of going
back.
"She had a baby pretty soon. It was by them men that stole her. He was
light. He died when he got nearly grown. I recollect him good. I was
born close to Memphis, the boy died of dysentery.
"When my mother was sold in Virginia she was carried in a wagon to the
block and thought she was going to market. She never seen her folks no
more. They let them go along to market sometimes and set in the wagon.
She had a little pair of gloves she wore when she was sold her grandma
had knit for her. They was white, had half thumb and no fingers. When
she died I put them in her coffin. She had twins born dead besides me.
They was born close to Wilmar, Arkansas.
"We farmed all my life in Arkansas and Mississippi. I married in
Mississippi and we come back here before Joe died. I live out here and
in Memphis. My son is a janitor at the Sellers Brothers Store in
Memphis. My daughter cooks about here in town and I keep her children. I
rather farm if I was able.
"I think young folks, both colors, shuns work. Times is running away
with itself. Folks is living too fast. They ride too fast and drinks and
do all kinds of meanness.
"My father was a mighty poor hand at talking. He said he was sold in a
gang shipped to Memphis from New Orleans. Master Allen bought him. He
was a boy. I don't know how big. He cleaned fish--scaled them. He
butchered and in a few months Mr. Allen set him free. It was surrender
when he was sold but Mr. Allen didn't know it or else he meant to keep
him on a few years. When he got loose he started farming and farmed till
he died. He farmed in Tennessee, Mississippi, and Arkansas. He owned a
place but a drouth come along. He got in debt and white folks took it.
"I married in Mississippi. My husband immigrated from South Carolina. He
was Joe Patton. I washed and ironed and farmed. I rather farm now if I
was able.
"I never got no gov'ment help. I ain't posing it. It is a fine thing. I
was in Tennessee when it come on. They said I'd have to stay here six
months. I never do stay."
Interviewer: Mrs. Annie L. LaCotts
Person interviewed: Harriett McFarlin Payne
Dewitt, Arkansas
Age: 83
"Aunt Harriett, were you born in slavery time?"
"Yes, mam! I was big enough to remember well, us coming back from Texas
after we refugeed there when the fighting of the war was so bad at St.
Charles. We stayed in Texas till the surrender, then we all come back in
lots of wagons. I was sick but they put me on a little bed and me and
all the little chillun rode in a 'Jersey' that one of the old Negro
mammies drove, along behind the wagons, and our young master, Colonel
Bob Chaney rode a great big black horse. Oh! he nice-looking on dat
horse! Every once and awhile he'd ride back to the last wagon to see if
everything was all right. I remember how scared us chillun was when we
crossed the Red River. Aunt Mandy said, 'We crossin' you old Red River
today, but we not going to cross you any more, cause we are going home
now, back to Arkansas.' That day when we stopped to cook our dinner I
picked up a lot little blackjack acorns and when my mammy saw them she
said, 'Throw them things down, chile. They'll make you wormy.' (I cried
because I thought they were chinquapins.) I begged my daddy to let's go
back to Texas, but he said, 'No! No! We going with our white folks.' My
mama and daddy belonged to Col. Jesse Chaney, much of a gentleman, and
his wife Miss Sallie was the best mistress anybody ever had. She was a
Christian. I can hear her praying yet! She wouldn't let one of her
slaves hit a tap on Sunday. They must rest and go to church. They had
preaching at the cabin of some one of the slaves, and in the Summertime
sometimes they had it out in the shade under the trees. Yes, and the
slaves on each plantation had their own church. They didn't go
galavanting over the neighborhood or country like niggers do now. Col.
Chaney had lots and lots of slaves and all their houses were in a row,
all one-room cabins. Everything happened in that one room,--birth,
sickness, death and everything, but in them days niggers kept their
houses clean and their door yards too. These houses where they lived was
called 'the quarters'. I used to love to walk down by that row of
houses. It looked like a town and late of an evening as you'd go by the
doors you could smell meat a frying, coffee making and good things
cooking. We were fed good and had plenty clothes to keep us dry and
warm.
"Along about time for de surrender, Col. Jesse, our master, took sick
and died with some kind of head trouble. Then Col. Bob, our young
master, took care of his mama and the slaves. All the grown folks went
to the field to work and the little chillun would be left at a big room
called the nursing home. All us little ones would be nursed and fed by
an old mammy, Aunt Mandy. She was too old to go to the field, you know.
We wouldn't see our mammy and daddy from early in the morning till night
when their work was done, then they'd go by Aunt Mandy's and get their
chillun and go home till work time in the morning.
"Some of the slaves were house negroes. They didn't go to work in the
fields, they each one had their own job around the house, barn, orchard,
milk house, and things like that.
"When washday come, Lord, the pretty white clothes! It would take three
or four women a washing all day.
"When two of de slaves wanted to get married, they'd dress up nice as
they could and go up to the big house and the master would marry them.
They'd stand up before him and he'd read out of a book called the
'discipline' and say, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, all thy strength, with all thy might and thy neighbor as
thyself.' Then he'd say they were man and wife and tell them to live
right and be honest and kind to each other. All the slaves would be
there too, seeing the 'wedden'.
"Our Miss Sallie was the sweetest best thing in the world! She was so
good and kind to everybody and she loved her slaves, too. I can remember
when Uncle Tony died how she cried! Uncle Tony Wadd was Miss Sallie's
favorite servant. He stayed in a little house in the yard and made fires
for her, brought in wood and water and just waited on the house. He was
a little black man and white-headed as cotton, when he died. Miss Sallie
told the niggers when they come to take him to the grave yard, to let
her know when they got him in his coffin, and when they sent and told
her she come out with all the little white chillun, her little
grandchillun, to see Uncle Tony. She just cried and stood for a long
time looking at him, then she said, 'Tony, you have been a good and
faithful servant.' Then the Negro men walked and carried him to the
graveyard out in a big grove in de field. Every plantation had its own
graveyard and buried its own folks, and slaves right on the place.
"If all slaves had belonged to white folks like ours, there wouldn't
been any freedom wanted."
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: John Payne
Brinkley, Ark.
Age: 74
"I was born in Georgia, close to Bowles Spring, in Franklin County. My
mama's master was Reverend David Payne. He was a Baptist preacher. My
mama said my father was Monroe Glassby. He was a youngster on a
neighboring plantation. He was white. His father was a landowner. I
think she said it was 70 miles east of Atlanta where they went to trade.
They went to town two or three times a year. It took about a week to go
and come.
"From what Mama said they didn't know it was freedom for a long time.
They worked on I know till that crop was made and gathered. Somebody
sent word to the master, Rev. David, he better turn them slaves loose.
Some of the hands heard the message. That was the first they knowed it
was freedom. My mama said she seen soldiers and heard fighting. She had
heard that if the Yankees won the war all the slaves be free. She set to
studyin' what she would do. She didn't know what to do. So when she
heard it she asked If she had to be free. She told Rev. David she wanted
to stay like she had been staying. After I was up a good size boy we
went to Banks County. She done house work and field work too and I done
farm work. All kinds and from sun-up till dark every day. Sometimes I
get in so late I have to make a torch light to see how to put the feed
in the troughs. We had plenty litard--pine knots--they was rich to burn.
"I used to vote but I quit since I come to Arkansas. I come in 1902. I
paid my own way and wrote back for my family. I paid their way too. I
got one little grandaughter, 20 years old. She is off trying to make her
way through college. My wife had a stroke and she can't do much no more.
I got a piece of a house. It need repairs. I can't hardly pay my taxes.
I can't work much. I got two cows and six little pigs. I got eighty
acres land. I worked fourteen years for John Gazolla and that is when I
made enough to buy my place. I am in debt but I am still working. Seems
like one old man can't make much."
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person Interviewed: Larkin Payne
Brinkley, Ark.
Age: 85
"I was born in North Carolina. I don't recall my moster's name. My
parents was Sarah Hadyn and John Payne. They had seven children. None of
them was sold. My pa was sold. He had three sons in the Civil War. None
of em was killed. One was in the war four years, the others a good
portion of two years. They was helpers.
"Grandma bought grandpa's, freedom. My great grandma was an Indian
woman. My mother was dark brown. My father was tolerable light. When I
was small child they come in and tell bout people being sold. I heard a
whole lot about it that way. It was great grandma Hadyn that was the
Indian. My folks worked in the field or anywhere as well as I recollect.
"When freedom come on my folks moved to East Tennessee. I don't know
whether they got good treatment or not. They was freedom loving folks.
The Ku Klux never bothered us at home. I heard a lot of em. They was
pretty hot further south. I had two brothers scared pretty bad. They
went wid some white men to South Carolina and drove hogs. The white men
come back in buggies or on the train--left them to walk back. The Ku
Klux got after them. They had a hard time getting home. I heard the Ku
Klux was bad down in Alabama. They had settled down fore I went to
Alabama. I owned a home in Alabama. I took stock for it. Sold the stock
and come to Arkansas. I had seven children. We raised three.
"When my folks was set free they never got nothing. The mountain folks
raised corn and made whiskey. They made red corn cob molasses; it was
good. They put lye in the whiskey; it would kill you. They raised hogs
plenty. My folks raised hogs and corn. They didn't make no whiskey. I
seen em make it and sell it too.
"I heard folks say they rather be under the home men overseers than
Northern overseers. They was kinder to em it seem like. I was jes
beginnin' to go to the field when freedom come on. I helped pile brush
to be burned before freedom. I farmed when I was a boy; pulled fodder
and bundled it. I shucked corn, slopped pigs, milked, plowed a mule over
them rocks, thinned out corn. I worked twenty days in East Tennessee on
the section. I cut and haul wood all winter.
"My parents both died in Arkansas. We come here to get to a fine farmin'
country. We did like it fine. I'm still here.
"I have voted. I vote if I'm needed. The white folks country and they
been runnin' it. I don't want no enemies. They been good to me. I got no
egercation much. I sorter follows bout votin'. We look to the white
folks to look after our welfare.
"I get $8.00 and commodities. I work all I can git to do."
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Cella Perkins
Marvell and Palestine, Arkansas
Age: 67
"I was born close to Macon, Georgia. Mama's old mistress, Miss Mari
(Maree) Beth Woods, brung her there from fifteen miles outer Atlanta.
"After emancipation Miss Mari Beth's husband got killed. A horse kicked
him to death. It shyed at something and it run in front of the horse. He
held the horse so it couldn't run. It kicked the foot board clean off,
kicked him in the stomach. His boy crawled out of the buggy. That's the
way we knowed how it happened. She didn't hurt the boy. His name was
Benjamin Woods.
"Pa went to war with his master and he never come back to mama. She
never heard from him after freedom. He got captured and got to be a
soldier and went 'way off. She didn't never know if he got killed or
lost his way back home.
"Mama cooked and kept up the house. Miss Mari Beth kept a boarding house
in Macon till way after I was a big girl. I stood on a box and washed
dishes and dried them for mama.
"Mr. Ben was grown when we come to Arkansas. He got his ma to go to
Kentucky with him and I heard about Arkansas. Me and mama come to
Palestine. We come in a crowd. A man give us tickets and we come by our
lone selves till we got to Tennessee. A big crowd come from Dyersburg,
Tennessee. Ma got to talking and found out we was headed fo' the same
place in Arkansas.
"Ma talked a whole heap at tines more 'an others (times) about slavery
times. Her master didn't take on over her much when he found out she was
a barren woman. The old man Crumpton give her to his youngest daughter,
Miss Mari Beth. She always had to do all kinds of work and house turns.
"After mama's slavery husband didn't come back and she was living in
Macon, she fell in love with another man and I was a picked-up baby.
Mama said Miss Mari Beth lost faith in her when I was born but she
needed her and kept her on. Said seem like she thought she was too old
to start up when she never had children when her papa owned her. They
didn't like me. She said she could trust mama but she didn't know my
stock. He was a black man. Mama was black as I is.
"Miss Mari Beth had a round double table. The top table turned with the
victuals on it. I knocked flies three times a day over that table.
"I never had a store-bought dress in my life till mama bought me one at
Madison, Arkansas. I wanted a pure white dress. She said if we made a
good crop she was going to give me a dress. All the dresses I ever had
was made out of Miss Mari Beth's dresses but I never had a pure white
one. I never had one bought for me till I was nearly grown. I was so
proud of it. When I would go and come back, I would pull it off and put
it away. I wore it one summer white and the next summer I blued it and
had a new dress. I had a white dress nearly every year till I got too
old to dress up gay now. I got a white bonnet and apron I wears right
now.
"Mama said Master Crumpton bought up babies to raise. She was taken away
from her folks so soon she never heard of them. Aunt Mat raised her up
in Atlanta and out on his place. He had a place in town but kept them on
a place in the country. He had a drove of them. He hired them out. He
hired mama once to a doctor, Dr. Willbanks. Mama said old master thought
she would learn how to have children from him the reason he sent her
there so much. When they had big to-dos old master sent mama over there.
She never seen no money till about freedom. She loved to get hired out
to be off from him. They all had young babies about but her. He was
cross and her husband was cross. She had pleasure hired out. She said he
didn't whoop much. He stamped his foot. They left right now.
"I hab three girls living; one here (Palestine), one at Marvell, and one
in St. Louis. My youngest girl teaches music at a big colored school.
She sends me my money and I lives with these girls. I been up there and
I sure don't aim to live in no city old as I is. It's too dangerous slow
as I got to be and so much racket I never slept a night I was there. I
was there a month. She brung me home and I didn't go back.
"I cooked and washed and ironed and worked in the field. I do some work
yet. I helps out where I am.
"The times is better I think from accounts I hear. This generation all
living too fast er lives. They don't never be still a minute."
Pine Bluff District
FOLKLORE SUBJECTS
Name of Interviewer: Martin & Barker
Subject: Ex-Slaves--Slavery Times
This Information given by: Maggie Perkins
Place of Residence: W. 6th. St.
[TR: Information moved from bottom of first page.]
My folks lived in S. Carolina and belonged to Col. Bob Baty and his
family.
If I should lay down tonight I could tell when my folks were going to
die, because the Lawd would tell me in a vision.
Just before my grandmother died, I got up one morning and told my aunt
that granma was dead. Aunt said she did not want me telling lies.
Then I saw another aunt laying on the bed, and she had her hand under
her jaw. She was smiling. The house was full of people. After awhile
they heard that her aunt was dead too, and after that they paid
attention to me when I told them somebody was going to die.
I'se a member of the Holiness Church. I believes step up right and keep
the faith.
I seen my aunt walking up and down on a glass. The Lawd tells me in a
vision to step right up and see the faith.
I am living in Jesus. He is coming to Pine Bluff soon. He is going to
separate the lions from the sheep.