Freedom

"The Union soldiers came in a gang out from Washington all over the

surrounding country, scouting about, and notified all the black folks of

freedom. My folks made arrangements to stay on. Two colored men went

through the country getting folks to move to southwest Georgia but

before mother decided to move anywhere along come two men and they had a

helper, Mr. Allen. It was Mr. William H. Wood and Mr. Peters over here

on Cat Island. They worked from Washington, Georgia. We consented to

leave and come to Arkansas. We started and went to Barnetts station to

Augusta, to Atlanta. There was so many tracks out of order, bridges been

burnt. We crossed the river at Chattanooga, then to Nashville, then to

Johnsonville. We took a boat to Cairo, then to Memphis, then on to some

landing out here. Well, I never heard. We went to the Woods' place and

made a crop here in Arkansas in 1866. I worked with John I. Foreman till

1870 and went back to the Woods' farm till 1880. Then I went to the Bush

place (now McCullough farm). I farmed all along through life till the

last twelve years. I started preaching in 1875. I preach yet

occasionally. I preached here thirty-six years in the Marianna Baptist

church. I quit last year. My health broke down.

"Chills was my worst worry in these swamps. We made fine crops. In 1875

yellow fever come on. Black folks didn't have yellow fever at first but

they later come to have it. Some died of it. White folks had died in

piles. It was hard times for some reason then. It was hard to get

something to eat. We couldn't get nothing from Memphis. Arrangements was

made to get supplies from St. Louis to Little Rock and we could go get

them and send boats out here.

"In 1875 was the tightest, hardest time in all my life, A chew of

tobacco cost ten cents. In 1894-'95 hard times struck me again. Cotton

was four and five cents a pound, flour three dollars a barrel, and meat

four and five cents a pound. We raised so much of our meat that didn't

make much difference. Money was so scarce.

"Ku Klux--I never was in the midst of them. They was pretty bad in

Georgia and in northeast part of this county. They was bad so I heard.

They sent for troops at Helena to settle things up at about Marion,

Arkansas now. I heard more of the Ku Klux in Georgia than I heard after

we come here. And as time went on and law was organized the Ku Klux

disbanded everywhere.

"Traveling conditions was bad when we came to Arkansas. We rode in box

cars, shabby passenger coaches. The boats was the best riding. As I told

you we went way around on account of burnt out and torn up bridges. The

South looked shabby.

"I haven't voted since 1927 except I voted in favor of the Cotton

Control Saturday before last.

"Times has come up to a most deplorable condition. Craving exists.

Ungratefulness. People want more than they can make. Some don't work

hard and some won't work at all. I don't know how to improve conditions

except by work except economical living. Some would work if they could.

Some can work but won't. Some do work hard. I believe in bread by the

sweat of the brow, and all work.

"The slaves didn't expect anything. They didn't expect war. It was going

on a while before my parents heard of it. I was a little boy. They

didn't know what it was for except their freedom. They didn't know what

freedom was. They couldn't read. They never seen a newspaper like I take

the Commercial Appeal now. I went to school a little in Arkansas. My

father being old man Pettus' son as he was may have been given something

by Miss Sarah or Dr. Palmer or by his white son, but the old man was

dead and I doubt that. Father was killed and mother left. Mother knew

she had a home on Dr. Palmer's land as long as she needed one but she

left to do better. In some ways we have done better but it was hard to

live in these bottoms. It is a fine country now.

"I own eighty acres of land and this house. (Good house and furnished

well.) We made six bales of cotton last year. My son lives here and his

wife--a Chicago reared mulatto, a cook. He runs my farm. I live very

well."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson

Person interviewed: Dolly Phillips, Clarendon, Arkansas

Age: 67

"I ain't no ex-slave. I am 67 years old. I was born out here on the

Mullins place. My mother's master was Mr. Ricks and Miss Emma Ricks.

"My mother named Diana and my father Henry Mullins. I never saw my grand

fathers and I seen one grandma I remembers. My mother had ten children.

My father said he never owned nuthin' in his life but six horses. When

they was freed they got off to their selves and started farming. See

they belong to different folks. My father's master was a captain of a

mixed regiment. They was in the war four years. I heard 'em say they

went to Galveston, Texas. The Yankees was after 'em. But I don't know

how it was.

"I heard 'em say they put their heads under big black pot to pray. They

say sing easy, pray easy. I forgot whut all she say.

"I lives wid my daughter. I gets commodities from the Welfare some. The

young folks drinks a heap now. It look lack a waste of money to me."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson

Person Interviewed: Tony Piggy

Brinkley, Ark.

Age: 75

"I was born near Selma, Alabama, but I was raised in Mississippi. My

grandpa was sold from South Carolina to Moster Alexander Piggy. He

didn't talk plain but my papa didn't nother. Moster Piggy bought a gang

of black folks in South Carolina and brought em into the state of

Alabama. My papa was mighty near full-blood African, I'll tell you. Now

ma was mixed.

"I'm most too young to recollect the war. Right after the war we had

small pox. My uncle died and there was seven children had em at one

time. The bushwhackers come in and kicked us around--kicked my uncle

around. We lived at Union Town, Alabama then.

"Aunt Connie used to whip us. Mama had no time; she was a chambermaid

(housewoman). The only thing I recollect bout slavery time to tell is

Old Mistress pour out a bushell of penders (peanuts) on the grass to see

us pick em up and set out eating em. When they went to town they would

bring back things like cheese good to eat. We got some of what they had

most generally. She wasn't so good; she whoop me with a cow whip. She'd

make pull candy for us too. I got a right smart of raisin' in a way but

I growed up to be a wild young man. I been converted since then.

"Well, one day pa come to our house and told mama, 'We free, don't have

to go to the house no more, git ready, we all goin' to Mississippi.

Moster Piggy goiner go. He goner rent us twenty acres and we goner take

two cows and a mule.' We was all happy to be free and goin' off

somewhere. Moster Piggy bought land in Mississippi and put families

renters on it. Moster Piggy was rough on the grown folks but good to the

children. The work didn't let up. We railly had more clearin' and fences

to make. His place in Alabama was pore and that was new ground.

"There was all toll nine children in my family. Ma was named Matty

Piggy. Papa was named Ezra Piggy. Moster Alexander Piggy's wife named

Harriett. I knowed Ed, Charley, Bowls, Ells, and Liza. That's all I ever

knowd.

"I have done so many things. I run on a steamboat from Cairo to New

Orleans--Kate Adams and May F. Carter. They called me a Rouster--that

means a working man. I run on a boat from Newport to Memphis. Then I

farmed, done track work on the railroad, and farmed some more.

"The young generation ain't got respect for old people and they tryin'

to live without work. I ain't got no fault to find with the times if I

was bout forty years younger than I is now I could work right ahead."

Interviewer: Bernice Bowden

Person interviewed: Ella Pittman

2409 West Eleventh Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas

Age: 84

"Yes ma'm, I was born in slavery days. I tell you I never had no name.

My old master named me--Just called me 'Puss? and said I could name

myself when I got big enough.

"My old master was named Mac Williams. But where I got free at was at

Stricklands. Mac Williams' daughter married a Strickland and she drawed

me. She was tollable good to me but her husband wa'nt.

"In slavery times I cleaned up the house and worked in the house. I

worked in the field a little but she kept me busy in the house. I was

busy night and day.

"No ma'm, I never did go to school--never did go to school.

"After I got grown I worked in the farm. When I wasn't farmin' I was

doin' other kinds of work. I used to cut and sew and knit and crochet. I

stayed around the white folks so much they learned me to do all kinds of

work. I never did buy my children any stockins--I knit 'em myself.

"After old Master died old Miss hired us out to Ben Deans, but he was so

cruel mama run away and went back to old Miss. I know we stayed at Ben

Deans till they was layin the crop by and I think he whipped mama that

morning so she run away.

"Yes ma'm, I sho do member bout the Klu Klux--sho do. They looked

dreadful--nearly scare you to death. The Klu Klux was bad, and the

paddyrollers too.

"I can't think of nothin' much to tell you now but I know all about

slavery. They used to build 'little hell', made something like a

barbecue pit and when the niggers didn't do like they wanted they'd lay

him over that 'little hell'.

"I've done ever kind of work--maulin rails, clearin up new ground. They

was just one kind of work I didn't do and that was workin' with a

grubbin' hoe. I tell you I just worked myself to death till now I ain't

able to do nothin'."

Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States from Interviews with Former Slaves, Volume II, Arkansas Narratives, Part 5 · 第 181 / 185 题