(VERBATIM)
MISS GEORGIE AT WOODLAND
EX-SLAVE STORY
"He was a full-blooded man--the Cap'n. Didn't disgrace. He put goat on
Goat Island. Money was bury to Goat Island. People after people been
sent. I dinnah know wedder they find or no.
"Mack McCosky was sent by the State to fetch molasses, meal and hominy
and goat on Goat Island. He can't tell you! People can't know sumpin
when they ain't born!
"After de war 'e come back and take into big drinkin' and was 'em (waste
them) till 'e fall tru. He been fell tru wid his money (lost his
property). Didn't bury so destent (decent).
"We smaller one didn't have chance to go to war. My Daddy have for go.
Have to go ditch and all and tend his subshun. His subshun was waste and
steal. Paris! He the man control all the Buckra ting. And, by God, he go
and show Yankee all dem ting! Ole Miss git order to have him kill and
don't harm none! She ain't one to see him tru all that thousand head o'
nigger for get 'em.
"They come have big dinner. Cap'n come from Muldro. (Marlboro). Drum
beatin' little one dancin'. Gone back to Muldro. (Maham Ward and these
udder come from Muldro.) And they leave ting in Uncle William Gaillard
hand. And he carry on till everting surrender. And then the Cap'n come
home from Muldro and they try give you sumpin to make start on like cow
and ting. They ain't treat you like a beast. Ain't take no advance o'
you. What the Cap'n do he do for you good. I b'long Dr. Ward. I entitle
to bring him two string o' bird. Rice bird come like jest as tick as dat
(thick as that) Sometimes a bushel one shot.
"They put you in the flat and put you over there. When they tink Yankee
comin' you take to Sandhole Crick for hide. Mr. Carmichael sent by the
state. Go to Brookgreen, Longwood, Watsaw. Tell everting surrender. Go
to any located place. He's a Gineral. Go open the barn door and give us
all us need. He better to we nigger boy dan he Daddy been! Wouldn't beat
you 'thout the lil' boy really fightin'.
"Time o' the war the colored people hear 'bout Yankee. Not a one eber
understand to run way and go to Yankee boat from WE plantation. These
Yankee people wuz walkin' 'bout on the beach. And while they come in to
the hill, the Reb have a battery to Laurel Hill and they cut off them
Yankee from the ocean. These they cut off they carry dem to Brookgreen
barn. Hang one colored man and one white man to Oaks Seashore. White man
musser be Sergeant or big Cap'n. Just as soon as the sun go down you see
a big streak come over and they BUSS (bust) Duds. Woman in the street
killed. (Street of negro Quarters--Brookgreen) Blacksmith killed. Cut
off he brudder-in-law (Judy's) and kill Judy. Dem shell go clean to
Sandy Island. Pump make out o' brick to Brookgreen. Dat boy (shell) come
and hit the pump. De horn blow and they make for flat and gwine on to
Sandhole down that black crick. There a man for dat--dat flat. Get
everbody line up. Ain't gone there for PLAY. Gone for wuk (work). I was
big 'nouf to do diss--go wid my fadder and hold light.
"It this way. You ain't LOW to eat the whole rice you kin make money
outer. Beat dat rice. But my Daddy been a great whiskey man. Liquor.
Didn't have 'em less he go to town. Money scase. ('E wuz a kind of
musicianer for the Ward fambly). But he break he jug. He break he
whiskey jug. En when de obersheer (overseer) git out de ration and
gib'em to mah Ma and us chillun he hand mah Pa a piece o' dem break jug!
That keep him in mind o' that whiskey jug.
"Yankee come here and butt us colored people. I 'member we youngun's
just could 'tote up dem gold pitcher and bury dem in the garden. Not far
from the flowers tank. Tank have on 'em a woman head (Flowers' tank was
a fountain). All the master fine ting way down there bury! De Ward
didn't loss nothin'. They move us out the plantation. Col. Ward took 'em
in a flat to Mulbro.
"Dr. Heriot after the war took into big drinkin'. Didn't bury so decent.
Fell tru wid all he money. Not bury so decent."
=Source:= Told by Uncle Ben Horry, Age 88, April 1938, Murrells Inlet, S.C.
Project #1655
Everett R. Pierce
Columbia, S.C.
INTERVIEW WITH EX-SLAVE
MARGARET HUGHES, 82 YEARS.
"Missy, I likes to talk to de white folks, I gits awful lonesome for my
massa and missus, and de white folks I used to be wid. Yes'm, I was born
out here 'bout ten miles from Columbia, at a little place called Nipper
Hill. My massa was named Daniel Finley, and my missus was named
Elizabeth, but we called her Missy Betsy. My massa had a big plantation
and a heap of slaves; he had so many he couldn't keep us faces in his
mind. One day he see some of us over on another plantation, and he ask
us who we b'long to, and we tell him, and he just smile and say he
couldn't 'member all of us. De massa and de missus was so good to us
'til de slaves on other plantations was jealous; they call us free
niggers befo' we was freed.
The grown-up slaves had to work in de field all day and then at night
they spin cloth and make their clothes. We had one shoemaker what didn't
do nothing else much 'cept make shoes for all of us. I was too young to
do much work, so the missus mostly keep me in de house to nurse de
chillun. When de chillun go to school, she make me go 'long wid them for
to look after them and tote their books. I stayed wid them all day and
brought their books home in de evening.
I got in trouble one day while I was at de school house; I was a right
bad little gal, anyway. I got mad wid one of de little white chillun
'cause she talk mean to Sissy, dat's one of my missus little girls, and
I took her books and put them in a bucket of water. The teacher punish
me, and told my missus I couldn't come back to de school house, 'less
she teach me how to behave more better. I was right good after that,
'cause I was scared of whippings. My missus had three chillun: Mary, we
call her Sissy 'cause she de oldest, then Sally and Willie. I slept in
de big house and play wid de white chillun. When de white folks went off
in de carriage they always let me go too; I set up in de seat wid de
driver. They had awful pretty horses to drive.
Massa Daniel had a overseer, named Jake Graddick. He kept de slaves at
work and looked after de crops. He woke de slaves every morning by
blowing a big cow horn, and called them to dinner the same way. We went
to work at sunrise, had two hours for dinner, and stopped work at
sundown.
The slaves had plenty to eat, and had their own gardens. I helped work
de gardens. My old daddy worked in de garden and made chairs for de
slaves, besides working in de fields.
My massa never whip de slaves very much, but he do sometime. Once I saw
my poor old daddy in chains. They chained his feet together, and his
hands too, and carry him off to whip him, 'cause he wouldn't tell who
stole a trunk that was missing. He couldn't tell though, 'cause he
didn't know, but they thought he did.
No ma'am missy, us slaves never had no church to go to. We was allowed
to go to de white folks' church though. There was a low partition in de
church wid a little gate in it; we set on one side of it, and de white
folks on de other. We listen to de preaching and sung de songs right
'long wid de white folks. Us never had no baptizings though. I learned a
heap of things in Sunday School.
Talking 'bout patrollers, I was awful scared of them. We had to have a
pass from our massa to go from one plantation to another, and if we went
without a pad the patrollers would ketch us and whip us. I never did
get ketched though. De only time de massa ever let us ride de horses was
when he want us to carry a message from one plantation to another.
Yes ma'am, 'bout these weddings you asked me 'bout; well, we had a big
time when any of de slaves got married. De massa and de missus let them
get married in de big house, and then we had a big dance at one of de
slave house. De white folks furnish all kinds of good things to eat, and
de colored peoples furnish de music for de dance. My mammy's brother
been one of de best fiddlers there was; he teach de other niggers how to
play.
The best times we had was 'long in summer time, 'tending them Camp
Meetings. We had good men to preach de service, and then all of us women
got together and spread a big picnic dinner, that we'd brought from home
in baskets, and we sure had a good time. Sometime some of them eat so
much they get sick. We ain't had so much sickness 'long them times
though, not like we do now. Us used to wear garlic and asafetida 'round
our neck to keep off diseases; never had many neither. We was vaccinated
to keep from ketching smallpox.
Well little missy, I done told you just 'bout all I 'members 'cept 'bout
de Yankees. When I used to hear de older niggers talking 'bout de
Yankees coming, I was scared, 'cause I thought it was some kind of
animal they was talking 'bout. My old aunty was glad to hear 'bout de
Yankees coming. She just set and talk 'bout what a good time we was
going to have after de Yankees come. She'd say; 'Child we going to have
such a good time a settin' at de white folks table, a eating off de
white folks table, and a rocking in de big rocking chair.'
Something awful happen to one of de slaves though, when de Yankees did
come. One of de young gals tell de Yankees where de missus had her
silver, money and jewelry hid, and they got it all. What you think
happened to de poor gal? She'd done wrong I know, but I hated to see her
suffer so awful for it. After de Yankees had gone, de missus and massa
had de poor gal hung 'til she die. It was something awful to see. De
Yankees took everything we had 'cept a little food, hardly 'nough to
keep us alive.
When de slaves were freed de most of them didn't had nowhere to go, so
we just stayed on wid de massa and missus and they was good to us as
long as we stayed wid them. I wishes sometime I was a slave again,
'cause I likes being a slave, didn't have nothing to worry 'bout then."
Home address
3105 Asylum Road.
Code No.
Project, 1885-(1)
Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
Place, Marion, S.C.
Date, May 18, 1937
No. ----
Reduced from ---- words
Rewritten by ----
MOM HESTER HUNTER
Ex-Slave, 85 years.
"Well, bless ye little heart, honey, ye say ye is wan' me to tell ye
'bout how de people lived way back dere in slavery time. Honey, I dunno
wha' to tell ye cause I ain' never been treated no ways but good in me
life by my Missus. I tell dese chillun here dat dey ain' never see no
sech time uz dere been den. My Missus been marry Massa John Bethea en
dey is raise dey flock up dere to de crossroads next Latta. Dat whey I
been raise. Honey, my Missus see to it she self dat we look a'ter in de
right way. Ain' never been made to do no work much den. Jes played dere
in de back yard wid me dolls aw de time I wanna. Honey, I dunno nuthin
to tell ye cause I is lib lak uh lamb in dem days."
"I wus born on de 25th uv December, right on de big Chrissmus day, dere
on Massa John plantation en I was 14 year old when freedom declare. I is
85 year old now en, honey, me health jes uz good now uz ever it wuz. My
Missus take sech good care uv us aw de time en see a'ter us she self
when we sick en I is take sech good care uv me self a'ter I leab dere
dat I 'spect to be here long time from now. Ain' know no ailment tall.
Coase de rheumatism is worry me right smart on uh night. Honey, dis
rheumatism ain' been cause from no bad teeth. I is hab eve'y tooth in me
head wha' I hab when I wuz 7 year old en dey jes uz good uz dey was
den. It jes dis way, jes uz long uz I is workin', I feels mighty smart,
mighty smart, child!"
"I 'clare to goodness white folks come down here jes to hear me talk.
Honey, I is wish I could stay wid yunnah aw de day. I could tell yunnah
aw 'bout dem days cause I ain' know nuthin but big living den. I tell me
grandchillun dat dem times 'ud be uh show for dem now. My Massa had uh
big plantation, honey, uh big plantation! Right in de center wuz me
Missus house en den dere wuz two long row uv we house to de right dere
on de place close to de big house. I 'members when de plantation hand
wha' work in de field been come to de house in de middle uv de day to
ge' dey dinner, I been lub to stand 'round de big pot en watch em when
dey ge' dey sumptin to eat. Yas'um, dey is cook aw de food for de field
hand in de same big ole black pot out in de yard. Yas'um, dey is put aw
de victual in one pot. Dey'ud go to de smokehouse en cut off uh whole
half uh side uv bacon en drap it right in dat pot. Dat been flavor de
pot jes right cause in dem days, us ration been season wid meat. Honey,
dere 'ud be 'bout thirty uv dem hand wha' had to eat out dat pot. Dere
been uh shelter built over de pot to keep de rain out en den dere was uh
big scaffold aw 'round de pot whey de put de pans when dey dish de
victual up. De field hands 'ud come dere en ge' dey pan uv ration offen
dis scaffold."
"Now de chillun on de plantation ain' been 'low to eat outer dat pot wid
de field hand. My auntie cook us victuals right dere in de kitchen on de
Missus fireplace an we eat right dere outer us own separate pan. My
Missus see she self dat we been fed right en she see dat de food been
cook done, cook done, honey, en been seasoned right aw de time. My
Missus ain' never stand fa me to go widout me meat fa break'ast. Al'ays
had hominy en milk en meat fa me break'ast en when supper time come, dey
is al'ays gi'e us uh big bowl uv corn bread en milk. Folks ain' eat den
lak dey does nowadays. Dey been eat more meat den en it ain' hu't dem
lak it hu'ts em now. Honey, peoples ain' lib peaceful lak dey been lib
den. Den peoples ain' cook dey food done lak de food been cook den. My
auntie cook aw de bread right dere in de kitchen on de fireplace. I is
hab some uv dem spider right here in de yard now. (She showed us two
iron spiders about 8 inches deep with three legs. One was being used in
the yard as a drinking place for the chickens and the other was
carelessly thrown just under the edge of her house.) When I come 'way
from my Missus plantation, I been take care uv wha' I bring 'way wid me.
Dere uh ole loom dere in de house right now. I 'members how I use 'er
lub to lie down on de Missus floor under de loom en watch my auntie when
she wuz spinning dere."
"Dey'ud hab gray sheep en white sheep den en dey'ud make sech nice
cloth. Yas'um, dey'ud dye de cloth right dere on de plantation. I
'member aw 'bout dat. De Missus hab uh big patch uv indigo dat dey
growed right dere en dey'ud gather it en boil it in de pot en den dey'ud
take de cloth dat my auntie is help weave an put it in dat pot en dye it
jes uz pretty. My Missus see to it she self dat de plantation peoples
clothes been make right en dat we is hab nice clean place to sleep. De
Missus never 'low none uv us to lay down in rags. She see 'bout aw dis
she self. I know my Missus gone to Hebbun, honey, en I hope she restin'
dere."
=Source:= Mom Hester Hunter, age 85, colored. (Personal
interview, Marion, S.C., May 1937.)
Code No.
Project, 1885-(1)
Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
Place, Marion, S.C.
Date, October 15, 1937
No. ----
Reduced from ---- words
Rewritten by ----
MOM HESTER HUNTER
Ex-Slave, 85 Years
"Yes, mam, I remember all bout slavery time just as good as I know you
dis mornin. Remember de first time dem Yankees come dere, I was settin
down in de chimney corner en my mammy was givin me my breakfast.
Remember I been settin dere wid my milk en my bowl of hominy en I hear
my old grandmammy come a runnin in from out de yard en say all de sky
was blue as indigo wid de Yankees comin right dere over de hill den. Say
she see more Yankees den could ever cover up all de premises bout dere.
Den I hear my Missus scream en come a runnin wid a lapful of silver en
tell my grandmammy to hurry en sew dat up in de feather bed cause dem
Yankees was mighty apt to destroy all dey valuables. Old Missus tell all
de colored people to get away, get away en take care of demselves en
tell we chillun to get back to de chimney corner cause she couldn'
protect us noways no longer. Yes, honey, I was a little child settin
dere in dat chimney corner listenin to all dat scamperin bout en I
remember dat day just as good as it had been dis day right here."
"Oh, my God, dem Yankees never bring nothin but trouble en
destructiveness when dey come here, child. I remember I hear tell dat my
old stepfather been gone to de mill to grind some corn en when he was
comin down de road, two big Yankees jump out de bushes side de road en
tell him stop dere. He say dey tell him if he want to save his neck, he
better get off dat ox right den en get away from dere. He say he been so
scared he make for de woods fast as he could get dere en tell dat he
lay down wid knots under his head many a night fore he would venture to
come out from dat woods. Never hear tell of his ox en corn no more
neither. Oh, honey, my old Missus was a dear old soul en didn' none of
her colored people have no mind to want to leave dere no time."
"We chillun never didn' know nothin bout no hard times in dat day en
time. Seems like de Lord had just open up en fix de way for us to have
everything we want. Oh, honey, we chillun never been harness up in no
little bit of place to play like dese chillun bout here dese days. We
had all de big fields en de pretty woods to wander round en bout en make
us playhouse in. Seems like de Lord had made de little streams just
right for we chillun to play in en all kind of de prettiest flowers to
come up right down side de paths us little feet had made dere, but dat
wasn' nothin. Dere was flowers scatter bout everywhe' you look in de
woods en all kind of birds en squirrels en rabbits en honey, dey was
live play things. Dat how-come we been so satisfy. I here to tell you my
old Missus was a dear old soul en we chillun sho had a fine time comin
up. She didn' never have her niggers cut up en slashed up no time. She
was good to us en we stuck to her."
"In de mornin bout dis time, me en my Missus would take a walk in de
woods down by de creek. I remember I would be dere wid my mammy en old
Missus would say, 'Judy, whe' Hester? I want her to take a walk wid me
dis mornin.' I been bout five or six years old den en I would get
tired. I say, 'Mittie, I tired, I tired.' She say, 'Well, set down en
rest awhile.' I remember dere been a big old sweet gum tree settin dere
side de creek dat had a place hollow out in it dat looked just like a
chair been made dere. Old Missus would set down dere en take me right
down side her en stay dere till we was rested. I go wid her one day when
de creek been rise way up high en dere been a heap of water in de road.
I say, 'Mittie, I scared, I scared.' She tell me dere couldn' nothin
hurt me en I remember we went on en see a big black fish just a jumpin
in de road. Old Missus say, 'Hester, catch him, catch him.' I say,
'Mittie, I can', I can', I scared.' I recollects she caught dat fish en
tied it wid her garter en let me drag it home en tell my mammy cook it
for my supper. Honey, dat been a day. Never couldn' forget bout dat."
"I remember me en my old Missus went to de graveyard one mornin en we
found a runaway nigger hidin in a house dat was standin in de graveyard.
Dat was an old, old slavery time house to de graveyard en people would
go dere en hide. It was just like dis, honey, generally people in de
country be scared of a graveyard en wouldn' nobody go dere to hunt dem.
I remember just as good when he see us, he squatted down right low. I
say, 'Mittie, looka, looka, I scared.' Den she say, 'Hester, I notice de
clouds are growin more en more gray en I fear we better be gettin back
home. I never like for a rain to catch us away from home.' I know Missus
say dat to make me think she wasn' scared, but I never had no mind to
tell her I know what been de matter dat she want to hurry home. Yes'um,
dat old house in de graveyard was one of dem kind dat been settin high
off de ground. Dat de kind of house dey cook underneath in slavery time.
Cose it was closed up when dey had de kitchen down dere. No, mam, Massa
never didn' go to walk wid old Missus. He was seein over all de
plantation en Missus didn have but one son, little John O. Bethea, en he
was gone off to school. No, child, old Missus wouldn' never allow nobody
to go wid her but just me."
"You see, it was like dis, my old Missus been name Sara Davis fore she
marry Massa John Bethea en my mammy en grandmammy had come up wid her in
de country en dat how-come dere been such a feelin twixt dem. Yes, mam,
I love my old Missus better den I ever love honey en flour bread cause
she was a dear old soul. You see, she was always lookin to me to do
somethin for her. Say I was her favorite child to pick up things bout de
house en yard for her. She always had my mammy preserve me en Bob as her
favorite house chillun. She wouldn' never allow none of dem other nigger
chillun to come nowhe' round whe' she was cause dem what went bout de
Missus never didn' stay to de nigger quarter no time. My grandmammy, she
had to get all dem other plantation chillun together en see dat dey do
what de Missus look for dem to do."
"My God, child, people never know nothin but to go to church on de big
Sunday in dat day en time. No, mam, dey know dat been dey Massa rule en
didn' nobody have no mind to question nothin bout it. My old Missus was
a dear old soul en she would see to it dat all her niggers wash en iron
en cook on Saturday cause she never allow no work gwine on round whe'
she was when Sunday come, be dat she know bout it. I remember my old
Massa en Missus used to ride to church in dey big black carriage en dey
always would carry me en Bob right dere in de carriage wid dem somehow
another. Stuff us down 'tween de seats somewhe'. I recollects just as
bright as de stars be shinin old Missus would carry me en Bob to de same
little seats we been sit in every Sunday en den she en old Massa would
go to dey certain pew in de front part of de church. Oh, honey, dat was
a day for dem niggers to walk de road to church. Dat was a picnic for
dem. Oh, dey never had to walk but bout four miles. Why, darlin, I used
to walk fourteen miles to church every Sunday en didn' think nothin bout
it. I think dat was de finest thing I know for me en my grandfather to
walk 14 miles to church over dere on de hill every Sunday. I remember we
would set out bout time de sun would be risin. Yes, mam, we would carry
our dinner wid us cause we know we would be till night gettin back home
again. It just like I been tell you, de peoples sho cook dey dinner for
Sunday on Saturday in dat day en time. Dat been a mighty good thing,
child, been a mighty good thing. Honey, it been de rule to follow what
de Bible say do in dat day en time en now it seem like de rule must be,
do like you see de other fellow is doin. Yes, mam, if you ain' been to
church in dat day en time, you sho had to report how-come you ain' been
dere."
"I tell you, child, I been here. If I live to see de Christmas day, I'll
be past 85 years old. I ain' been up town in God knows when en I wants
to go so bad back to see my white folks. Dem Evans chillun, dey comes to
see me often. Dat child had took dat trip round de world en she come
right back en tell me all bout it. Well, bless my heart, she done gone
en get married last Sunday en I never know bout it. She tell me she was
gwine marry one of dese days, but I never know. I hope dat man will take
care of her en be good to my baby. I hope her older days won' be her
worser days."
"Yes, mam, I remember just as good as it was yesterday what dey say when
freedom come here. Oh, I hates to think bout dat day till dis one.
Remember dey call all de niggers up to de yard en I hear old Missus say,
'You don' no more belong to me. You can go if you want to en if you want
to, you can stay.' I say, 'Yes, mam, I do want to stay, I ain' gwine
leave you.' Dat was my white mammy en I stay dere long as she live too.
Didn' want no better livin den I was gettin right dere. It been a
Paradise, be dat what I calls it."
=Source:= Hester Hunter, ex-slave, 85 years, Marion, S.C.
Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Oct., 1937.
Code No.
Project, 1885-(1)
Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
Place, Marion, S.C.
Date, October 26, 1937
No. ----
Reduced from ---- words
Rewritten by ----
MOM HESTER HUNTER
Ex-Slave, 85 Years
"Bless my soul, honey, I tell you I been here a time. Been here a day. I
tell dese chillun here de other week dere ain' no need for me to be
frettin bout nothin no more cause my time bout out. I got my ducks en my
chickens en my chair right dere in de yard en I stays out dere wid dem
all de day till sundown. You see, I have such a hurtin in my back en
such a drawin in my knees en seems like de sun does just help me along
to bear de pain, but honey, I been walkin a long time. I remember I been
a little child in de bed listenin on en I hear my aunt come in one day
en say, 'Ma, I hear boss talkin bout dey gwine free de niggers.' Ma say,
'I don' have no mind for nothin like dat. I gwine be gone en you gwine
be gone too fore den.' Child, I sho been here a time. Remember dey been
four years buildin dem embankments en dey been four years fightin. Yes,
mam, I been through a day since I come here."
"Honey, I was a hustlier when I was a young woman en dat de reason my
chillun had such good schoolin. If it had been left to my husband, dey
wouldn' been know A from B. I think bout how my old Massa used to try to
learn me to spell en dat how-come I had such a feelin for my chillun to
get some learnin. My daughter, she taught 20 years in dat school right
over dere en when she see dat I wasn' able to carry on no longer, she
throwed up her hands one day en say she wasn' gwine teach school no
more. Tell Bill en dem chillun dat she was gwine stay here home en keep
me from fallin in de pots. Den she put out de word dat she would do a
washin for dis one en a washin for dat one en honey, I see her dere
washin so hard sometimes, I have a feelin dat I would rather she be out
en gone from here. Seems like it does hurt me so to see her wastin away
like dat after I been worry so to give her such a good school learnin."
"I tell you when I come up, it de Lord's truth, I ain' know nothin but a
decent livin all de time. My old Missus was a dear old soul en I been
raise dat way. I hear talk bout how some of de white folks would bout
torture dey niggers to death sometimes, but never didn' see my white
folks allow nothin like dat. Dey would whip dey niggers dat runaway en
stay in de woods, but not so worser. No, mam, my Missus wouldn' allow no
slashin round bout whe' she was. I remember my boss had one of my old
Missus niggers up dere in de yard one mornin en say he was gwine whip
him en my Missus say, 'John O., you let my nigger alone.' You see, my
Missus had her niggers en den old Boss had his niggers cause when old
Missus been marry Massa John O. Bethea, she had brought here share of
niggers from whe' she was raise in de country. It been like dis, old
Missus father had scratch de pen for everyone of his chillun to have so
many niggers apiece for dey portion of his property so long as dey would
look after dem en treat dem good. Den if dere been talk dat dem chillun
never do what he say do, dey was to take dem niggers right back to dey
old Massa home. But, child, dey never didn' take no niggers away from
my old Missus cause she sho took care of dem. Stuck to her niggers till
she died."
"I remember just as good dere been two long row of nigger house up in de
quarter en de Bethea niggers been stay in de row on one side en de Davis
niggers been stay in de row on de other side. En, honey, dere been so
much difference in de row on dis side en de row on dat side. My God,
child, you could go through dere en spot de Sara Davis niggers from de
Bethea niggers time you see dem. Won' no trouble no time. All old Missus
niggers had dey bresh (brush) pile side dey house to sun dey beds on en
dry dey washin cause my Missus would see to it herself dat dey never
kept no nasty livin. We was raise decent, honey, en dat how-come me en
my chillun is dat way to dis very day. Dere dat child in de house now,
she does put fresh sheet on all us bed every week just like dey was
white people bed. You see, if you raise dat way, you ain' gwine never be
no ther way. Yes, mam, my old Missus sho took time to learn her niggers
right. Honey, both dese hands here was raise not to steal. I been cook
for heap of dese white folks bout here dat been left everything right
wide open wid me en ain' nobody never hear none of dem complain bout
losin nothin to dis day. No, mam, ain' nobody never didn' turn no key on
me. I remember, if my old Missus would hear talk dat we been bother
somethin dat didn' belong to us, she would whip us en say, 'I'm not mad,
but you chillun have got to grow up some day en you might have to suffer
worse den dis if you don' learn better while you young."
"Yes, mam, dat been a day. Dem niggers what been bred on Massa John C.
Bethea's plantation never know nothin but big livin in dat day en time.
Remember all bout dem days. Recollect dat dey would give all dey colored
people so much of flour for dey Sunday eatin en den dey had a certain
woman on de place to cook all de other ration for de niggers in one big
pot out in old Massa's yard. All de niggers would go dere to de pot on
Sunday en get dey eatin like turnips en collards en meat en carry it to
dey house en make dey own bread. Den in de week time, dey would come out
de field at 12 o'clock en stand round de pot en eat dey pan of ration en
den dey would go back in de field en work. When dey would come home at
night, dere would be enough cook up for dem to carry home to last till
de next day dinner. Didn' eat no breakfast no time. Had meat en greens
en corn bread en dumplings to eat mostly en won' no end to milk. Got
plenty of dat en dey was sho glad to get it. Cose dem what been stay to
de white folks house would eat to de Missus kitchen. En, my Lord, child,
my white folks had de prettiest kind of rice dat dey made right dere on
dey own plantation. Had plenty rice to last dem from one year to de
other just like dey had dey hominy. Den old Massa had a big fish pond en
in de summer time when it would get too hot to work, he would allow all
his plantation niggers to catch all de pikes en jacks dey wanted en salt
dem down in barrels for de winter. Didn' allow nobody to go nowhe' bout
dat fish pond but us niggers. En another thing, dey wouldn' cure dey
meat wid nothin but dis here green hickory wood en I speak bout what I
been know, dere ain' never been nothin could touch de taste of dem hams
en shoulder meat. Oo--oo--oo, honey, dey would make de finest kind of
sausages in dem days. I tell my chillun I just bout turn against dese
sausage de people make bout here dese days."
"Yes, mam, I been hearin bout dat thing call conjurin all my days, ever
since I been in dis world, but I ain' never put no faith in nothin like
dat. I say, I don' want no hand but what God give me. I remember I got
de sore eyes one time en a woman come to me en say, 'Miss Hester, dere a
woman in dis town poison you.' Tell me dey put somethin on de rag I had
wipe my eyes wid. I tell her she was wastin her speech cause I know I
never had nothin to worry bout. It de blessed truth I'm tellin you, dere
some of dese people right bout here now got dese transfer driver gwine
down in de country to get people to do somethin for dem all de time.
Honey, if some people in dis town had dis rheumatism I got, dey would
swear somebody do somethin to dem. Oh, my God, dere so much devilment
gwine on in de world dese days. I sho has faith in God en I reckon dat
how-come I gets along so good."
"Oh, de people, dey is awful worser den what dey used to be. I know by
my comin on dat dey awful worser. De little tots bout here dese days
know things de older people used to be de only ones dat know bout. Yes,
mam, I sets down en prays when others sleep en I say, 'Lord, what gwine
happen? Look like de young people on de straight road to hell gettin in
so much devilment. When I was comin up, I didn' have nothin to grieve
over, but seem like dere somethin all de time dese days. I does worry
bout it so much sometimes, child, I goes along just a whistlin, 'Lord, I
wish I had went fore I had so much to grieve over.'
=Source:= Hester Hunter, age 85, Marion, S.C.
Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, October, 1937.