An interview with Plaz Williams of Four Oaks who says that she is
around 90 years of age.
"Margaret Thornton sez dat she has got de world record beat on nussin'
but dat's whar she's wrong. She ain't a day over seventy, yit she sez
dat she has nussed more dan I has an' me ninety. Right now I'se a
nussin' of a 'oman what has jist got back from de hospital. Yes, mam, a
heap of people sez dat dey'd rather have me dan de doctor.
"I wus borned in Mississippi, so dey tells me, den I wus sold ter Mr.
Moses Mordecai of Raleigh, atter dat I 'longed ter a Mr. Henry Lane who
lived in Wake County. Dar wus two er three of dem Lane's named Henry,
course dis one wus de youngest.
"I worked in de fiel's like a man an' I liked it too. Marse Moses had
oberseers what beat you fer nothin' but Marse Henry ain't dat sort of a
person at all. Marse Moses an' Marse Henry both drunk whiskey an' such
but dey wus different when dey wus drunk. Marse Moses 'ud beat you an'
cuss you, but Marse Henry 'ud laugh at you an' play wid you.
"I know one time Marse Moses comed ter see Marse Henry an' atter dey
had drunk awhile Marse Henry seed me in de yard. Hit bein' on Sunday he
calls me ter come to his library. When I gits in he axes me iffen I'se
ever been drunk an' I tells him no. Den he pours me a glassful an' sez
for me ter drink it. I begs at fust, den I sez dat I won't drink de
brandy. Marse Henry laugh an' would have let me go but dat debil, Marse
Moses, sez, 'Le's hol' her an' pour it down her guzzle, Henry.' Dat's
what dey done an' dey pours down seberal drinks. Terreckly Marse Henry
axes me ter fetch him some water but when I starts my laigs am too weak
to go so I sets down on de floor. Marse Henry laugh an' laugh but Marse
Moses sez, 'Whup de shameless hussy what ain't got no mo' raisin' dan
ter git dog drunk.' He would have whupped me too but Marse Henry won't
let him do it. 'Stid of beatin' me he sez ter git in de corner an'
sleep it off.
"I doan know nothin' 'bout de Yankees comin' case we wus sent 'way back
in de country ter stay. Marse Henry comes out dar an' tells us dat we
is free. Marse Henry has told Jack Williams dat he can't have me 'fore
dis, so I axes, 'Can I marry Jack now, Marse Henry.' He sez yes, so
'fore night I is at Jack's cabin. I thought dat dar ain't got ter be
no preacher, but a week er two atter dis a preacher comes by an'
marries us.
"We moved here case hit am better farmin' land. We worked hard ter make
anything do', an' fer awhile I thought dat we'd starve ter death.
"Dar ain't so much ter tell about atter de war. Our chilluns died fast
as we had 'em. We worked hard an' 'bout twenty years ago Jack died.
I'se been on de charity some but I hope dat when I gits my pension I
won't have ter trouble dem no more."
N.C. District: No. 2
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 652
Subject: MELISSA WILLIAMSON
Story teller: Melissa Williamson
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt
MELISSA WILLIAMSON
Ex-Slave Story
An interview with Melissa Williamson 77 of Bledsoe Avenue, Raleigh,
N.C.
"Dis June fifteenth sebenty-eight years ago I wuz borned in Franklin
County near Louisburg.
"My mammy an' me belonged ter Mr. Billy Mitchell [HW: Mitchell (?)]
'fore she died, which wuz one of de fust things dat I 'members, an' den
Mis' Mitchel tuck me in her house an' raise me. Dat wuz de fust year of
de war, I believes.
"De Mitchels [HW: Mitchells (?)] wuz good ter us in a way, an' dey doan
spare de rod when it am needed, nor does dey think dat a picaninny
can't go barefooted in de hot summertime. Dey believes in a heap of
wuck do' an' no play at all, an' very little rations.
"De men slaves 'ud wuck in de fiel's an' at dinnertime dey ain't had
nothin' 'cept a quart of buttermilk, an' a ash cake. I got a whole heap
better dan dey did, but youngin'-like I begged dem fer some of dere
dinner.
"I neber thought dat Mis' Mitchel wuz hard till I seed her whup Aunt
Pidea. Aunt Pidea wuz a good soul an' she wuz good ter we youngins, an'
we loved her. She got ter gittin' frantic do', an' she'd put on her
dinner on de stove, den she'd go ter de woods an' run an' romp lak a
chile.
"Mis Mitchel had loved her too, but atter awhile she got mad an' she
wuz mad bad too. She tuck Aunt Pidea out ter a tree, stripped off her
waist, tied her ter de tree an' whup her wid a cowhide till de blood
runs down her back.
"We wuz told dat de Yankees would kill us an' we wuz skeered of dem
too, an' I wuz always runnin' fer fear de Yankees would git me. When
dey did come I wuz out at de well, drawin' water wid de windlass an' I
wuz so short dat I had ter jump up ter grap de handle. I looked up de
road an' de Yankees wuz comin' up de road as thick as fleas on a dog's
back. I gives a yell, turns de windlass a loose, an' flies roun' de
house ter my missus. Hit's a wonder dat windlass ain't turn ober an
break my haid in.
"I had hyard 'bout my sister what wuz sold 'fore I wuz borned, an' I
ain't knowin' whar she is, but atter de war had been ober fer two years
she comed ter Mis' Mitchel's an' got me. She carried me ter Louisburg
an' sont me ter de Yankee school dar. I 'member a song dat de Yankees
teached us, or at least a part o' one.
"'How often we think o' childhood joys
And tricks we used to play
Upon each other while at school
To while the time away.'"