"I don' exac'ly know how ole I is, but dey say I mus' be eighty. No
mam, I ain' got nothin' in no fam'ly Bible. Where'd I git a fam'ly
Bible? My mammy (with a chuckle) had too many chillun to look after to
be puttin' 'em down in no Bible, she did'n have time, an' she did'n
have no learnin' nohow. But I reckon I is eighty because I 'members so
much I's jes' about forgotten it all.
"My folks belonged to Colonel Taylor. He an' Mis' Kitty lived in that
big place on Market Street where the soldiers lives now, (The W.L.I.
Armory) but we was on the plantation across the river mos' of the time.
"Of co'se I was born in slavery, but I don' remember nothin' much
excep' feedin' chickens. An' up on Market Street Mis' Kitty had
chickens an' things, an' a cow. The house had more lan' around it than
it got now. I do remember when they thought eve'ybody 'roun' here was
goin' to die an' I got skeered. No'm t'want no war it was the yaller
fever. We was kept on the plantation but we knowed folks jes died an'
died an' died. We thought t'would'nt be nobody left. I don't remember
nothin' about Lincoln travelin' aroun'. I always heard he was President
of the Lunited States, an' lived in Washington, an' gave us freedom,
an' got shot. Of co'se I knows all about Booker Washington, a lot of
our folks went to his school, an' he been here in Wilmington. I'd know
a lot about slave times only I was so little. I have heard my mammy say
she had a heap easier time in slavery than after she was turn' loose
with a pa'cel of chilluns to feed. I married as soon as I could an'
that's how I got this house. But I can't work, an' I disremembers so
much. The Welfare gives me regerlar pay, an' now an' then my friends
give me a nickel or a dime.
"I lives alone now, until I can git a decent 'ooman to live with me. I
tells you Missus these womens an' young girls today are sumpin else.
After you had 'em aroun' awhile you wish you never knowed 'em.
"Sometimes when I jes sets alone an rocks I wonder if my mammy didn't
have it lots easier than I does."
N.C. District: Asheville
Worker: Marjorie Jones
No. Words: 2,300
Subject: Interview with Fannie Moore, Ex-slave.
Story teller: Fannie Moore
Editor: Marjorie Jones
Date: September 27, 1937
[TR: Cover page is in a format labeled "STATE EDITORIAL IDENTIFICATION
FORM".]
[Illustration: Fannie Moore]
Interviewer: Marjorie Jones,
Date: Sept. 21, 1937.
Interview With: Fannie Moore, Ex-slave,
151 Valley Street,
Asheville, N.C.
"Nowadays when I heah folks a'growlin an' a'grumblin bout not habbin
this an' that I jes think what would they done effen they be brought up
on de Moore plantation. De Moore plantation b'long to Marse Jim Moore,
in Moore, South Carolina. De Moores had own de same plantation and de
same niggers and dey children for yeahs back. When Marse Jim's pappy
die he leave de whole thing to Marse Jim, effen he take care of his
mammy. She shore was a rip-jack. She say niggers didn't need nothin' to
eat. Dey jes like animals, not like other folks. She whip me, many time
wif a cow hide, til I was black and blue.
"Marse Jim's wife war Mary Anderson. She war the sweetest woman I ebber
saw. She was allus good to evah nigger on de plantation. Her mother was
Harriet Anderson and she visit de Missus for long time on de farm. All
de little niggers like to work fo' her. She nebber talk mean. Jes smile
dat sweet smile and talk in de soffes' tone. An when she laugh, she
soun' jes like de little stream back ob de spring house gurglin' past
de rocks. An' her hair all white and curly, I can 'member her always.
"Marse Jim own de bigges' plantation in de whole country. Jes thousands
acres ob lan'. An de ole Tiger Ribber a runnin' right through de middle
ob de plantation. On one side ob de ribber stood de big house, whar de
white folks lib and on the other side stood de quarters. De big house
was a purty thing all painted white, a standin' in a patch o' oak
trees. I can't remember how many rooms in dat house but powerful many.
O'corse it was built when de Moores had sech large families. Marse Jim
he only hab five children, not twelve like his mammy had. Dey was
Andrew and Tom, den Harriet, Nan, and Nettie Sue. Harriett was jes like
her granny Anderson. She was good to ebberbody. She git de little
niggers down an' teach em dey Sunday School lesson. Effen ole Marse
Jim's mammy ketch her she sho' raise torment. She make life jes as hard
for de niggers as she can.
"De quarters jes long row o' cabins daubed wif dirt. Ever one in de
family lib in one big room. In one end was a big fireplace. Dis had to
heat de cabin and do de cookin too. We cooked in a big pot hung on a
rod over de fire and bake de co'n pone in de ashes or else put it in de
skillet and cover de lid wif coals. We allus hab plenty wood to keep us
warm. Dat is ef we hab time to get it outen de woods.
"My granny she cook for us chillens while our mammy away in de fiel.
Dey wasn't much cookin to do. Jes make co'n pone and bring in de milk.
She hab big wooden bowl wif enough wooden spoons to go 'roun'. She put
de milk in de bowl and break it up. Den she put de bowl in de middle of
de flo' an' all de chillun grab a spoon.
"My mammy she work in de fiel' all day and piece and quilt all night.
Den she hab to spin enough thread to make four cuts for de white fo'ks
ebber night. Why sometime I nebber go to bed. Hab to hold de light for
her to see by. She hab to piece quilts for de white folks too. Why dey
is a scar on my arm yet where my brother let de pine drip on me. Rich
pine war all de light we ebber hab. My brother was a holdin' de pine
so's I can help mammy tack de quilt and he go to sleep and let it
drop.
"I never see how my mammy stan' sech ha'd work. She stan' up fo' her
chillun tho'. De ol' overseeah he hate my mammy, case she fight him for
beatin' her chillun. Why she git more whuppins for dat den anythin'
else. She hab twelve chillun. I member I see de three oldes' stan' in
de snow up to dey knees to split rails, while de overseeah stan off an'
grin.
"My mammy she trouble in her heart bout de way they treated. Ever night
she pray for de Lawd to git her an' her chillun out ob de place. One
day she plowin' in de cotton fiel. All sudden like she let out big
yell. Den she sta't singin' an' a shoutin', an' a whoopin' an' a
hollowin'. Den it seem she plow all de harder. When she come home,
Marse Jim's mammy say: 'What all dat goin' on in de fiel? Yo' think we
sen' you out there jes to whoop and yell? No siree, we put you out
there to work and you sho' bettah work, else we git de overseeah to
cowhide you ole black back.' My mammy jes grin all over her black
wrinkled face and say: 'I's saved. De Lawd done tell me I's saved. Now
I know de Lawd will show me de way, I ain't gwine a grieve no more. No
matter how much yo' all done beat me an' my chillun de Lawd will show
me de way. An' some day we nevah be slaves.' Ole granny Moore grab de
cowhide and slash mammy cross de back but mammy nebber yell. She jes go
back to de fiel a singin'.
"My mammy grieve lots over brothah George, who die wif de fever. Granny
she doctah him as bes' she could, evah time she git way from de white
folks kitchen. My mammy nevah git chance to see him, 'cept when she git
home in de evenin'. George he jes lie. One day I look at him an' he had
sech a peaceful look on his face, I think he sleep and jes let him
lone. Long in de evenin I think I try to wake him. I touch him on de
face, but he was dead. Mammy nebber know til she come at night. Pore
mammy she kneel by de bed an' cry her heart out. Ol' uncle Allen, he
make pine box for him an' carry him to de graveyard over on de hill. My
mammy jes plow and cry as she watch em' put George in de groun'.
"My pappy he was a blacksmith. He shoe all de horses on de plantation.
He wo'k so hard he hab no time to go to de fiel'. His name war Stephen
Moore. Mars Jim call him Stephen Andrew. He was sold to de Moores, and
his mammy too. She war brought over from Africa. She never could speak
plain. All her life she been a slave. White folks never recognize 'em
any more than effen dey was a dog.
"It was a tubble sight to see de speculators come to de plantation. Dey
would go through de fields and buy de slaves dey wanted. Marse Jim
nebber sell pappy or mammy or any ob dey chillun. He allus like pappy.
When de speculator come all de slaves start a shakin'. No one know who
is a goin'. Den sometime dey take 'em an' sell 'em on de block. De
'breed woman' always bring mo' money den de res', ebben de men. When
dey put her on de block dey put all her chillun aroun her to show folks
how fas she can hab chillun. When she sold her family nebber see her
agin. She nebber know [HW: how] many chillun she hab. Some time she hab
colored children an' sometime white. Taint no use to say anything case
effen she do she jes git whipped. Why on de Moore plantation Aunt
Cheney, everbody call her Aunt Cheney, have two chillun by de
overseeah. De overseeah name war Hill. He war as mean as de devil. When
Aunt Cheney not do what he ask he tell granny Moore. Ole Granny call
Aunt Cheney to de kitchen and make her take her clothes off den she
beat her til she jest black an' blue. Many boys and girls marry dey own
brothers and sisters an' nebber know de difference lest they get to
talkin' bout dey parents and where dey uster lib.
"De niggers allus hab to get pass to go anywhere offen de plantation.
Dey git de pass from de massa or de missus. Den when de paddyrollers
come dey had to show de pass to dem, if you had no pass dey strip you
an' beat you.
"I remember one time dey was a dance at one ob de houses in de
quarters. All de niggers was a laughin an' a pattin' dey feet an' a
singin', but dey was a few dat didn't. De paddyrollers shove de do'
open and sta't grabbin' us. Uncle Joe's son he decide dey was one time
to die and he sta't to fight. He say he tired standin' so many
beatin's, he jes can't stan' no mo. De paddyrollers start beatin' him
an' he sta't fightin'. Oh, Lawdy it war tubble. Dey whip him wif a
cowhide for a long time den one of dem take a stick an' hit him over de
head, an' jes bus his head wide open. De pore boy fell on de flo' jes a
moanin' an' a groanin. De paddyrollers jes whip bout half dozen other
niggers an' sen' em home and leve us wif de dead boy.
"None o' the niggers have any learnin', warn't never 'lowed to as much
as pick up a piece o' paper. My daddy slip an' get a Webster book and
den he take it outen de fiel and he larn to read. De white folks 'fraid
to let de children learn anythin'. They fraid dey get too sma't and be
harder to manage. Dey nebber let em know anything about anythin'. Never
have any church. Effen you go you set in de back of de white folks
chu'ch. But de niggers slip off an' pray an' hold prayer-meetin' in de
woods den dey tu'n down a big wash pot and prop it up wif a stick to
drown out de soun' ob de singin'. I 'member some of de songs we uster
sing. One of dem went somethin' like dis:
"'Hark from de tomb a doleful soun'
My ears hear a tender cry.
A livin' man come through the groun'
Whar we may shortly lie.
Heah in dis clay may be you bed
In spite ob all you toil
Let all de wise bow revrant head
Mus' lie as low as ours.'
"Then dey sing one I can hardly remember but dis is some of de words:
"'Jesus can make you die in bed
He sof' as downs in pillow there
On my bres' I'll lean my head
Grieve my life sweetly there.
In dis life of heaby load
Let us share de weary traveler
Along de heabenly road.'
"Back in dose time dey wasn't no way to put away fruit and things fo'
winter like dey is today. In de fall of de yeah it certainly was a busy
time. We peel bushels of apples and peaches to dry. Dey put up lots o'
brandied peaches too. De way dey done dey peel de peaches and cut em
up. Then dey put a layer ob peaches in a crock den a layer ob sugar den
another layer ob peaches until de crock was full. Den dey seel de jar
by puttin' a cloth over de top then a layer o' paste then another cloth
then another layer ob paste. Dey keep dey meat bout de same way foks do
today 'cept dey had to smoke it more since salt was so sca'ce back in
dat day. Dey can mos' ob de other fruit and put it in de same kin' o'
jars dat dey put de peaches in. Dey string up long strings o' beans an'
let 'em dry and cook em wif fat back in de winter.
"Folks back den never heah tell of all de ailments de folks hab now.
Dey war no doctahs. Jes use roots and bark for teas of all kinds. My
ole granny uster make tea out o' dogwood bark an' give it to us chillun
when we have a cold, else she make a tea outen wild cherry bark,
pennyroil, or hoarhound. My goodness but dey was bitter. We do mos'
enythin' to git out a takin' de tea, but twarnt no use granny jes git
you by de collar hol' yo' nose and you jes swallow it or get strangled.
When de baby hab de colic she git rats vein and make a syrup an' put a
little sugar in it an' boil it. Den soon [HW: as] it cold she give it
to de baby. For stomach ache she give us snake root. Sometime she make
tea, other time she jes cut it up in little pieces an' make you eat one
or two ob dem. When you hab fever she wrap you up in cabbage leaves or
ginsang leaves, dis made de fever go. When de fever got too bad she
take the hoofs offen de hog dat had been killed and parch em' in de
ashes and den she beat em' up and make a tea. Dis was de most tubble of
all.
"De yeah fore de war started Marse Jim died. He war out in de pasture
pickin' up cow loads a throwin' em in de garden an' he jes drop over. I
hate to see Marse Jim go, he not sech a bad man. Ater he die his boys,
Tom an' Andrew take cha'ge of de plantation. Dey think dey run things
diffe'nt from dey daddy, but dey jes git sta'ted when de war come.
Marse Tom and Marse Andrew both hab to go. My pappy he go long wif dem
to do der cookin. My pappy he say dat some day he run four or five
miles wif de Yankees ahind him afore he can stop to do any cookin. Den
when he stop he cook wif de bullets a fallin all roun de kettles. He
say he walk on ded men jes like he walkin on de groun'. Some of de men
be dead, some moanin' an' some a groanin', but nobody pay no tention,
case de Yankees keep a comin. One day de Yankees come awful close Marse
Andrew hab de Confed'rate flag in his han'. He raise it high in de air.
Pappy say he yell for him to put de flag down case de Yankees was a
comin' closer an' was agoin' to capture him anyway. But Marse Andrew
jes hol' de flag up an run 'hind a tree. De Yankee sojers jes take one
shot at him an' dat was de las' of him. My pappy bring him home. De
fambly put him in alcohol. One day I went to see him and there he was a
swimmin' round in de water. Mos' ob his hair done come off tho. He
buried at Nazereth. I could go right back to de graveyard effen I was
there. Den my pappy go back to [HW: stay] with Marse Tom. Marse Tom
was jes wounded. Effen he hadn't had a Bible in his pocket de bullet go
clear through his heart. But yo' all kno' no bullet ain't goin' through
de Bible. No, you can't shoot through God's word. Pappy he bring Marse
Tom home an' take care of him til he well. Marse Tom give pappy a horse
an' wagon case he say he save his life.
"Many time de sojers come through de plantation an' dey load up dey
wagons wif ebberthing dey fin', lasses, hams, chickens. Sometime dey
gib part of it to de niggers but de white folks take it way when dey
git gone. De white folks hide all de silverware from de soldiers. Dey
fraid dey take it when dey come. Some time dey make us tell effen dey
think we know.
"After de war pappy go back to work on de plantation. He make his own
crop, on de plantation. But de money was no good den. I played wif many
a Confed'rate dollar. He sho was happy dat he was free. Mammy she shout
fo' joy an' say her prayers war answered. Pappy git pretty feeble, but
he work til jest fore he die. He made patch of cotton wif a hoe. Dey
was enough cotton in de patch to make a bale. Pappy die when he 104
years old. Mammy she live to be 105.
"After de war de Ku Klux broke out. Oh, miss dey was mean. In dey long
white robes dey scare de niggers to death. Dey keep close watch on dem
afeared dey try to do somethin'. Dey have long horns an' big eyes an'
mouth. Dey never go roun' much in de day. Jes night. Dey take de pore
niggers away in de woods and beat 'em and hang 'em. De niggers was
afraid to move, much les try to do anything. Dey never kno' what to do,
dey hab no larnin. Hab no money. All dey can do was stay on de same
plantation til dey can do better. We lib on de same plantation till de
chillun all grown an' mammy an' pappy both die then we leave. I don'
know where any of my people are now. I knows I was bo'n in 1849. I was
88 years old de fust of September."
N.C. District: No. 2
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 944
Subject: RICHARD C. MORING
Story teller: Richard C. Moring
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt
RICHARD C. MORING
Ex-Slave Story
An interview with Richard C. Moring 86 of 245 E.
South Street, Raleigh, N.C.
"My mammy wus Cherry, an' my pappy wus Jacob. Mr. Anderson Clemmons
owned mammy, an' Mr. Fielding Moring owned pappy.
"I doan know much 'bout Mr. Moring, case we stayed wid Mr. Clemmons
near Apex, in dis same county.
"Mr. Clemmons owned less'n a dozen slaves, but he wus good ter 'em. De
oberseer, Mr. Upchurch, whupped de slaves some, but not very much.
"We had nuff ter eat an' w'ar an' we wuck hard, but no harder dan we
has since dat time. Marster 'lowed us our own gyarden an' tater patch,
we also had our own hawgs.
"Dey 'lowed us some fun lak dancin', wrestlin' matches, swimmin',
fishin', huntin' an' games. We also had prayer meetin's at our cabins.
"When dere wus a weddin' dar wus fun fer all, case hit wus a big
affair. Dey wus all dressed up in new clothes, an' marster's dinin'
room wus decorated wid flowers fer de 'casion. De ban' which wus
banjoes, an' fiddles 'ud play an' de neighborin' folks 'ud come.
"De preacher married 'em up good an' tight jist lak he done de white
folks, an' atter hit wus ober an' de songs wus sung marster's dinin'
table wus set an' dar was a weddin' supper fer all.
"I doan 'member so much 'fore de war but I 'members dat de Rebs go by
an' dat de Yankees chase 'em. (I is on Mr. Morings' place den clost ter
Morrisville.)
"De Yankees am so busy chasin' de Rebs dat dey doan stop ter bodder us
much, 'cept ter kill de chickens an' so on.
"Dar's a place out from Morrisville whar de Yankees an' de Rebels had
er little skirmish on dat trip. We could hyar de guns go boomin', an'
atter hit wus ober we chilluns went dar an' pick up de balls an' boxes
of dese hardtacks whar de soldiers had fit.
"I fergit ter tell you 'bout de fust gang o' Yankees what come by. Dey
wus lookin' fer food an' when dey got ter our place dey comes in an'
he'ps dereselbes ter marster's stuff. Dey kilt all de live things, took
all de hams an' sich, an' dey foun' 'bout a bushel o' aigs. Dey put 'em
in de big wash pot an' biled 'em an' dey goes ter de spring house an'
gits seben er eight poun's o' butter. When de aigs am biled dey splits
'em open an' puts de butter on 'em an' eats 'em dat way. Dat's de fust
aigs dat eber I tasted, an' dey shore give me all I wants.
"We went back ter Mr. Clemmons' 'fore de surrender, case when dat
happen Mis' Jane Clemmons tells us'n herself dat we am free. All o' we
chilluns, Duncan, Candice, Mariah, Len, Willis, William, Sidney, Lindy,
Mary, Rilda, an' me, all of mammy's chilluns was dar at de en' of de
war.
"We stayed on at Mr. Clemmons fer seberal years, in fac' till de ole
folks died. My young Missus Mis' Katy Ellis lives on Hillsboro Street,
an' I often goes ter see her an' she sometimes gives me money, so you
sees de feelin' dat 'zists twixt me an' my white folkses.
"I'll tell you de story 'bout de witch at de mill iffen you wants ter
hyar hit, I hyard my grandmammy tell hit when I wus a little feller."