Ex-Slave Story

An interview with William Sykes 78, of State prison, Raleigh, N.C.

"My mammy Martha an' me we 'longed ter Mister Joshua Long in Martin

County, an' my paw, Henry 'longed ter Squire Ben Sykes in Tyrell

County. Squire Sykes lived in what wus called Gum Neck, an' he owned a

hundert slaves or more an' a whole passel of lan'.

"I lived wid my mammy in Martin County from de fust dat I could

'member, me an' my brothers, Henry, Benjamin an' Columbus, an' my

sisters Hester, Margaret, Lucy an' Susan.

"I doan 'member so much what happen 'fore de war, of course, but I does

'member a heap of little things. I knows dat Mister Long an' Mis'

Catherine wus good ter us an' I 'members dat de food an' de clothes wus

good an' dat dar wus a heap o' fun on holidays.

"Most o' de holidays wus celebrated by eatin' candy, drinkin' wine an

'brandy. Dar wus a heap o' dancin' ter de music of banjoes an' han'

slappin'.

"We had co'n shuckin's, an' prayer meetin's, an' sociables an'

singin's. I went swimmin' in de crick, went wid ole Joe Brown, a-possum

huntin', an' coon huntin', an' I sometimes went a-fishin'.

"When de Yankees comed dey come a tearin'. Dey ain't done so bad in our

neighborhood, case hit warn't so full of de 'infernal Rebs', as de

Yankees said. Dey tooked de bes' o' eber'thing do' but dey ain't doin'

so much deruction. Dey eben buyed terbacker from my mammy, an' dey paid

her a dollar an' fifty cents a pound, stim an' all.

"Dey paid her wid shin plasters, which wus green paper money, an' de

fust dat eber I seed.

"We slaves wus skeerd o' de Yankees, an' fer some reason I got sent ter

paw at Squire Sykes' house in Tyrell County.

"Squire Sykes come stompin' in one day an' he says ter my paw, 'Henry,

dem damm Yankees am comin' ter take my niggers 'way from me, an' I

ain't gwine ter stan' fer hit nother. Le's you an' me take dese niggers

an' march straight ter de Blue Ridge mountains, an' up dar in dem

mountains dar won't be no trouble, case dey won't dare come up dar

atter us.'

"Wal, we got on de march fer de mountains an' we march on ter Judge

Clayton Moore's grandfather's place in Mitchell County, whar we camps

fer seberal days.

"While we wus dar one day, an' while Mr. Jim Moore, de Jedge's daddy am

in town de missus axes my cousin Jane ter do de washin'.

"Jane says dat she has got ter do her own washin' an dat she'll wash

fer de missus termorrer. De missus says 'you ain't free yit, I wants

you ter know.'

"'I knows dat I's not but I is gwine ter be free', Jane says.

"De missus ain't said a word den, but late Sadday night Mr. Jim he

comes back from town an' she tells him 'bout hit.

"Mr. Jim am some mad an' he takes Jane out on Sunday mornin' an' he

beats her till de blood runs down her back.

"De patterollers wus thick dem days, Mr. Joe Jones wus our regular

patteroller an' he gibe us de very debil.

"A few days atter Jane got her beatin' we marches away. De wimen am

left at Jamesville but us mens an' boys, we marches on ter Buncombe

County an' we ain't seed no mo' Yankees.

"Atter de war my paw an' mammy went ter live on Mr. Moore's plantation

an' we had a hard time. A whole heap o' times I has had nothin' ter eat

but one cupful o' peas an' a hunk of co'nbread all day long. A white

lady, Mis' Douglas give me a quart of milk eber Sunday, but I had ter

walk three miles fer hit.

"We ain't wucked none in slavery days ter what we done atter de war,

an' I wisht dat de good ole slave days wus back.

"Dar's one thing, we ole niggers wus raised right an' de young niggers

ain't. Iffen I had my say-so dey'd burn down de nigger schools, gibe

dem pickanninies a good spankin' an' put 'em in de patch ter wuck,

ain't no nigger got no business wid no edgercation nohow.

"Yes'um, dey says dat I is a murderer". Uncle William stroked his long

white beard. "I runned from dis young nigger seberal times, an' I wus

tryin' ter run wid my knife what I had been whittlin' wid open in my

han'. I wus skeerd nigh ter death, so when he grabs me I throw up my

han's an' in a minute he falls. I breshes de blood offen my coat,

thinkin' dat he has hurt me, an' I sees de blood pourin' from de

jugular vein.

"I has sarved ten months o' my sentence which dey gived me, three ter

five years fer manslaughter; what could I do? I stood up an' I said,

'Thank you, Jedge.'"

Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States from Interviews with Former Slaves, Volume XI, North Carolina Narratives, Part 2 · 第 103 / 137 题