the earliest thing I remember. When they moved from there, my father had
accumulated enough to buy a home. He bought it at Seventh and Broadway.
He paid cash for it--five hundred and fifty dollars. That is where we
all lived until it was sold. I couldn't name the date of the sale but it
was sold for good money--about three thousand eight hundred dollars, or
maybe around four thousand. I was a young man then.
"I remember the Brooks-Baxter War.
"I remember the King White fooled a lot of niggers and armed them and
brought them up here. The niggers and Republicans here fought them and
run them back where they come from.
"I know Hot Springs when the main street was a creek. I can't remember
when I first went there. The government bath-house was called 'Ral
Hole', because it was mostly people with bad diseases that went there.
"After the War, my father worked for a rich man named Hunter. He was
yardman and took care of the horse. My mother was living then.
"Scipio Jones and I were boys together. We slept on pool tables many a
time when we didn't have no other place to sleep. He was poor when he
was a boy and glad to get hold of a dime, or a nickel. He and I don't
speak today because he robbed me. I had a third interest in my place. I
gave him money to buy my place in for me. It was up for sale and I
wanted to get possession. He gave me some papers to sign and when I
found out what was happening, he had all my property. My wife kept me
from killing him."
Interviewer's Comment
Occupation: Grocer, bartender, porter, general work
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Sarah Anderson
3815 W. Second Avenue, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 78?
"I don't know when I was born. When the Civil War ended, I was bout four
or five years old.
"I jes' remember when the people come back--the soldiers--when the War
ended. We chillun run under the house. That was the Yankees.
"I was born in Bibb County, Georgia. That's where I was bred and born.
"I been in Arkansas ever since I was fourteen. That was shortly after
the Civil War, I reckon. We come here when they was emigratin' to
Arkansas. I'm tellin' you the truth, I been here a long time.
"I member when the soldiers went by and we chillun run under the house.
It was the Yankee cavalry, and they made so much noise. Dat's what the
old folks told us. I member dat we run under the house and called our
self hidin'.
"My master was Madison Newsome and my missis was Sarah Newsome. Named
after her? Must a done it. Ma and her chillun was out wallowin' in the
dirt when the Yankees come by. Sometimes I stayed in the house with my
white folks all night.
"My mother and father say they was well treated. That's what they say.
"Old folks didn't low us chillun round when they was talkin' bout their
business, no ma'am.
"We stayed with old master a good while after freedom--till they
commenced emigratin' from Georgia to Arkansas. Yes ma'am!
"I'm the mother of fourteen chillun--two pairs of twins. I married
young--bout fifteen or sixteen, I reckon. I married a young fellow. I
say we was just chaps. After he died, I married a old settled man and
now he's dead.
"I been livin' a pretty good life. Seems like the white folks just
didn't want me to get away from their chillun.
"All my chillun dead cept one son. He was a twin."
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Selie Anderson, Holly Grove, Arkansas
Age: 78
"I was born near Decatur, Alabama and lived there till I was fifteen
years old. Course I members hearin' em talk bout Mars Newt. I named fur
my ma's old mistress--Miss Selie Thompson and Mars Newt Thompson. Pa
died when I was three years old. He was a soldier. Ma had seven
children. They have bigger families then than they have now. Ma name
Emmaline Thompson. Pa name Sam Adair. I can't tell you about him. I
heard em say his pa was a white man. He was light skinned. Old folks
didn't talk much foe children so I don't know well nough to tell you
bout him. Ma was a cook and a licensed midwife in Alabama. She waited on
both black and white. Ma never staid at home much. She worked out. I
come to Mississippi after I married and had one child. Ma and all come.
Ma went to Tom McGehee's to cook after freedom. She married old man
named Lewis Chase and they worked on where he had been raised. His name
was Lewis Sprangle. He looked after the stock and drove the carriage.
Daniel Sprangle had a store and a big farm. He had three girls and three
boys, I was their house girl. Mama lived on the place and give me to em
cause they could do better part by me than she could. I was six years
old when she give me to em. They lernt me to sweep, knit, crochet, piece
quilts. She lernt her children thater way sometimes. Miss Nancy Sprangle
didn't treat me no different from her own girls. Miss Dora married Mr.
Pitt Loney and I was dressed up and held up her train (long dress and
veil). I stayed with Miss Dora after she married. One of the girls
married Mr. John Galbreth. I married and went home then come to
Mississippi. Mrs. Gables, Mr. Gables was old people but they had two
adopted boys. I took them boys to the field to work wid my children. She
sewed for me and my children. Her girls cooked all we et in busy times.
They done work at the house but they didn't work in the field.
"I been married five times. Every time I married I married at home.
Mighty little marryin' goin' on now--mighty little. Mama stayed wid Mr.
Sprangle till we all got grown. Miss Nancy's girls married so that all
the way I knowd how to do. I had a good time. I danced every chance I
got. I been well blessed all my life till I'm gettin' feeble now.
"Papa run the gin on Mr. Sprangle's place, then he went to war, come
back foe he died. I recken he come home sick cause he died pretty soon.
"I jess can member this Ku Klux broke down our door wid hatchets. It
scared us all to death. They didn't do nuthin' to us. They was huntin'
Uncle Jeff. He wasn't bout our house. He was ox driver fer Mr. Sprangle.
Him and a family of pore white folks got to fussin' bout a bridle. Some
of em was dressed up when they come to our house ma said. After that Mr.
Kirby killed him close to his home startin' out one mornin' to work. His
name was Uncle Jeff Saxon. Ma knowd it was some of the men right on Mr.
Sprangle's place whut come to our house.
"I live wid my daughter. I get $8 from the Welfare.
"If they vote for better it be all right. I never seen no poles. I don't
know how they vote. I'm too old to start up votin'.
"Lawd you got me now. The times changed and got so fast. It all beyond
me. I jes' listens. I don't know whut goner happen to this young
generation."
Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor
Person interviewed: W.A. Anderson (dark brown)
3200 W. 18th Street, Little Rock, Arkansas
Age: 78
Occupation: House and yard man
[HW: Serves the "Lawd"]
"I don't know nothin' about slavery. You know I wouldn't know nothin'
bout it cause I was only four years old when the war ended. All I know
is I was born in slavery; but I don't know nothin' bout it.
"I don't remember nothin' of my parents. Times was all confused and old
folks didn't talk before chilun. They didn't have time. Besides, my
mother and father were separated.
"I was born in Arkansas and have lived here all my life. But I don't
gossip and entertain. I just moved in this house last week. Took a
wheelbarrow and brought all these things here myself.
"Those boys out there jus' threw a stone against the house. I thought
the house was falling. I work all day and when night comes, I'm tired.
"I don't have no wife, no children, nothin'; nobody to help me out. I
don't ask the neighbors nothin' cept to clear out this junk they left
here.
"I ain't goin' to talk about the Ku Klux. I got other things to think
about. It takes all my time and strength to do my work and live a
Christian. Folks got so nowadays they don't care bout nothin'. I just
live here and serve the Lawd."
Interviewer's Comments
Anderson is separated from his wife who left him. He lost his home a
short time ago. A few months ago, he was so sick he was expected to die.
He supports himself through the friendliness of a few white people who
give him odds and ends of work to do.
I made three calls on him, helped him set up his stoves and his beds and
clear up his house a little bit since he had just moved into it and had
a good deal of work to do. His misfortunes have made him unwilling to
talk just now, but he will give a good interview later I am certain.
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Henry Anthony; R.F.D. #1 Biscoe, Arkansas
Age: 84
"I was born at Jackson, North Carolina. My master and mistress named
Betsy and Jason Williams but my pa's name was Anthony. My young master
was a orderly seargent. He took me wid him to return some mules and
wagons. He showed me what he want done an I followed him round wid
wagons. The wagons hauled ammunition and provisions. Pa worked for the
master and ma cooked. They got sold to Lausen Capert. When freedom come
they went back and stayed a month or two at Williams then we all went
back to John Odom. We stayed round close and farmed and worked till they
died. I married and when I had four or five children I heard ob dis
country. I come on immigration ticket to Mr. Aydelott here at Biscoe.
Train full of us got together and come. One white man got us all up and
brought us here to Biscoe. I farmed for Mr. Aydelott four or five years,
then for Mr. Bland, Mr. Scroggin.
"I never went to school a day in my life. I used to vote here in Biseoe
right smart. I let the young folks do my votin. They can tell more about
it. I sho do not think it is the woman's place to vote an hold all the
jobs from the men. Iffen you don't in the Primary cause you don't know
nuf to pick out a man, you sho don't know nuthin er tall bout votin in
the General lection. In fact it ain't no good to our race nohow.
"The whole world gone past my judgment long ago. I jess sets round to
see what they say an do next. It is bad when you caint get work you able
to do on that's hard on the old folks. I could saved. I did save right
smart. Sickness come on. Sometimes you have a bad crop year, make
nuthin, but you have to live on. Young folks don't see no hard times if
they keep well an able to work.
"I get commodities and $6 a month. I do a little if I can.
"One time my son bought a place fo me and him. He paid all cept $70. I
don't know whut it cost now. It was 47 acres. I worked on it three
years. He sold it and went to the sawmill. He say he come out square on
it. I didn't wanter sell it but he did."
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Katie Arbery
815 W. Thirteenth, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 80
"I am eighty years old. My name 'fore I was a Arbery was Baxter. My
mother was a Baxter. Born in Union County.
"My mother's first people was Baxter and my grandmother was a Baxter and
they just went by that name; she never did change her name.
"The boss man--that was what they called our master--his name was Paul
McCall. He was married twice. His oldest son was Jim McCall. He was in
the War. Yes ma'am, the Civil War.
"Paul McCall raised me up with his chillun and I never did call him
master, just called him pappy, and Jim McCall, I called him brother Jim.
Just raised us all up there in the yard. My grandmother was the cook.
"There wasn't no fightin' in Union County but I 'member when the Yankees
was goin' through and singin'
'The Union forever, hurrah, boys, hurrah
We'll rally 'round the flag, boys,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'
(She sang this--ed.)
And I 'member this one good:
'Old buckwheat cakes and good strong butter
To make your lips go flip, flip, flutter.
Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land.'
"Pappy used to play that on his fiddle and have us chillun tryin' to
dance. Used to call us chillun and say, 'You little devils, come up here
and dance' and have us marchin'.
"My cousin used to be a quill blower. Brother Jim would cut fishin'
canes and plat 'em together--they called 'em a pack--five in a row, just
like my fingers. Anybody that knowed how could sure make music on 'em.
Tom Rollins, that was my baby uncle, he was a banjo picker.
"I can remember a heap a things that happened, but 'bout slavery, I
didn't know one day from another. They treated us so nice that when they
said freedom come, I thought I was always free.
"I heered my grandmother talk about sellin' 'em, but I was just a little
kid and I didn't know what they was talkin' about. I heered 'em say,
'Did you know they sold Aunt Sally away from her baby?' I heered 'em
talkin', I know that much.
"After freedom, our folks stayed right on Paul McCall's place. My
grandmother cooked for the McCalls till I was eight or nine years old,
then she cooked for the McCrays--they was all relatives--till I was
twenty-one. Then I married.
"Paul McCall first married in the Baxter family and then he married into
the McCray family. I lived on the McCall place till I was grown. They
all come from Alabama. Yes'm, they come befo' the war was.
"Chillun in dem days paid attention. People _raised_ chillun in dem
days. Folks just feeds 'em now and lets 'em grow up.
"I looks at the young race now and they is as wise as rabbits.
"I never went to school but three months, but I never will forget that
old blue back McGuffey's. Sam Porter was our teacher and I was scared of
him. I was so scared I couldn't learn nothin'.
"As far as I can remember I have been treated nice everywhere I been.
Ain't none of the white folks ever mistreated me.
"Lord, we had plenty to eat in slavery days--and freedom days too.
"One time when my mother was cookin' for Colonel Morgan and my oldest
brother was workin' some land, my mother always sent me over with a
bucket of milk for him. So one day she say. 'Snooky, come carry your
brother's milk and hurry so he can have it for dinner.' I was goin'
across a field; that was a awful deer country. I had on a red dress and
was goin' on with my milk when I saw a old buck lookin' at me. All at
once he went 'whu-u-u', and then the whole drove come up. There was
mosely trees (I think she must have meant mimosa--ed.) in the field and
I run and climbed up in one of 'em. A mosely tree grows crooked; I don't
care how straight you put it in the ground, it's goin' to grow crooked.
So I climb up in the mosely tree and begin to yell. My brother heard me
and come 'cause he knowed what was up. He used to say, 'Now, Snipe, when
you come 'cross that mosely field, don't you wear that old red dress
'cause they'll get you down and tear that dress off you.' I liked the
dress 'cause he had give it to me. I had set the milk down at the foot
of the tree and it's a wonder they didn't knock it over, but when my
brother heard me yell he come a runnin', with a gun and shot one of the
deer. I got some of the venison and he give some to Colonel Morgan, his
boss man. Colonel Morgan had fought in the war.
"The reason I can't tell you no more is, since I got old my mind goes
this and that a way.
"But I can tell you all the doctors that doctored on me. They give me up
to die once. I had the chills from the first of one January to the next
We had Dr. Chester and Dr. McCray and Dr. Lewis--his name was Perry--and
Dr. Green and Dr. Smead. Took quinine till I couldn't hear, and finally
Dr. Green said, 'We'll just quit givin' her medicine, looks like she's
goin' to die anyway.' And then Dr. Lewis fed me for three weeks steady
on okra soup cooked with chicken. Just give me the broth. Then I
commenced gettin' better and here I am.
"But I can't work like I used to. When I was young I could work right
along with the men but I can't do it now. I wish I could 'cause they's a
heap a things I'd like that my chillun and grandchillun can't get for
me.
"Well, good-bye, come back again sometime."
Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor
Person interviewed: Campbell Armstrong
802 Schiller Street, Little Rock, Arkansas
Age: 86
[HW: Boys liked corn shuckings]
"I couldn't tell you when I was born. I was born a good while before
freedom. I was a boy about ten years old in the time of the Civil War.
That would make me about eighty-five or six years old.
"My father's name was Cy Armstrong. My mother's name was Gracie
Armstrong. I don't know the names of my grandparents. They was gone when
I got here. My sister died right there in the corner of the next room.
House and Furniture
"I used to live in an old log house. Take dirt and dob the cracks. The
floors were these here planks. We had two windows and one door. That was
in Georgia, in Houston County, on old Dempsey Brown's place. I know
him--know who dug his grave.
"They had beds nailed up to the side of the house. People had a terrible
time you know. White folks had it all. When I come along they had it and
they had it ever since I been here. You didn't have no chance like folks
have nowadays. Just made benches and stools to sit on. Made tables out
of planks. I never saw any cupboards and things like that. Them things
wasn't thought about then. The house was like a stable then. But them
log houses was better than these 'cause the wind couldn't get through
them.
Work as a Boy
"I wasn't doin' nothin' but totin' water. I toted water for a whole year
when I was a boy about eight years old. I was the water boy for the
field hands. Later I worked out in the fields myself. They would make me
sit on my mammy's row to help keep her up.
Free Negroes
"You better not say you were free them days. If you did, they'd tell you
to get out of there. You better not stop on this side of the Mason Dixie
Line either. You better stop on the other side. Whenever a nigger got so
he couldn't mind, they'd take him down and whip him. They'd whip the
free niggers just the same as they did the slaves.
Marriage
"You see that broom there? They just lay that broom down and step over
it. That was all the marriage they knowed about.
Corn Shuckings
"The boys used to just get down and raise a holler and shuck that corn.
Man, they had fun! They sure liked to go to those corn shuckings. They
danced and went on. They'd give 'em whiskey too. That's all I know about
it.
Rations
"They'd weigh the stuff out and give it to you and you better not go
back. They'd give you three pounds of meat and a quart of meal and
molasses when they'd make it. Sometimes they would take a notion to give
you something like flour. But you had to take what they give you. They
give out the rations every Saturday. That was to last you a week.
Patrollers
"I was at a ball one night. They had fence rails in the fire. Patroller
knocked at the door, stepped in and closed it behind him. Nigger pulled
a rail out of the fire and stuck it 'gainst the patroller and that
patroller stepped aside and let that nigger get by. Niggers used to tie
ropes across the road so that the patrollers' horses would trip up.
Mulattoes
"I never seed any mulattoes then. That thing is something that just come
up. Old Dempsey Brown, if he seed a white man goin' 'round with the
nigger women on his place, he run him away from there. But that's gwine
on in the full now.
"That ought not to be. If God had wanted them people to mix, he'd have
mixed 'em. God made 'em red and white and black. And I'm goin' to stay
black. I ain't climbed the fence yet and I won't climb it now. I don't
know. I don't believe in that. If you are white be white, and if you are
black be black. Children need to go out and play but these boys ought
not to be 'lowed to run after these girls.
Whippings
"Your overseer carried their straps with them. They had 'em with 'em all
the time. Just like them white folks do down to the County Farm. Used to
use a man just like he was a beast. They'd make him lay down on the
ground and whip him. They'd had to shoot me down. That is the reason I
tend to my business. If he wouldn't lay down they'd call for help and
strap him down and stretch him out. Put one man on one arm and another
on the other. They'd pull his clothes down and whip the blood out of
him. Them people didn't care what they done since they didn't do right.
Freedom
"When I first heard them talking about freedom, I didn't know what
freedom was. I was there standin' right up and looking at 'em when they
told us we was free. And master said, 'You all free now. You can go
where you want to.'
"They never give you a thing when they freed you. They give you some
work to do. They never looked for nothin' only to go to work. The white
folks always had the best of it.
"When Abe Lincoln first freed 'em, they all stood together. If this one
was ill the others went over and sit up with him. If he needed something
they'd carry it to him. They don't do that now. They done well then. As
soon as they quit standing together then they had trouble.
Wages Then
"Fellow said to me, 'Campbell, I want you to split up them blocks and
pile 'em up for me.' I said, 'What you goin' to pay me?' He said, 'I'll
pay you what is right.' I said, 'That won't do; you have to tell me what
you goin' to give me before I start to work.' And he said to me, 'You
can git to hell out of here.'
Selling and Buying Slaves
"They'd put you up on the block and sell you. That is just what they'd
do--sell you. These white folks will do anything,--anything they want to
do. They'd take your clothes off just like you was some kind of a beast.
"You used to be worth a thousand dollars then, but you're not worth two
bits now. You ain't worth nothin' when you're free.
Refugees--Jeff Davis
"They used to come to my place in droves. Wagons would start coming in
in the morning and they wouldn't stop coming in till two or three in the
evening. They'd just be travelin' to keep out the way of the Yankees.
They caught old Jeff Davis over in Twiggs County. That's in Georgia.
Caught him in Buzzard's Roost. That was only about four or five miles
from where I was. I was right down yonder in Houston County. Twigg
County and Houston County is adjoinin'. I never saw any of the soldiers
but they was following them though.
Voters
"I have seen plenty of niggers voting. I wasn't old enough to vote in
Georgia. I come in Arkansas and I found out how the folks used
themselves and I come out that business. They was selling themselves
just like cattle and I wouldn't have nothing to do with that.
"I knew Jerry Lawson, who was Justice of Peace. He was a nigger, a
low-down devil. Man, them niggers done more dirt in this city. The
Republicans had this city and state. I went to the polls and there was
very few white folks there. I knew several of them niggers--Mack
Armstrong, he was Justice of Peace. I can't call the rest of them.
Nothing but old thieves. If they had been people, they'd been honest.
Wouldn't sell their brother. It is bad yet. They still stealin' yet.
Ku Klux
"That's another devil. Man, I'll tell you we seen terrible times. I
don't know nothing much about 'em myself. I know one thing. Abe Lincoln
said, 'Kill him wherever you see him.'
Self-Support and Support of Aged Slaves in Slave Times
"A white man asked me how much they givin' me. I said, 'Eight dollars.'
He said, 'You ought to be gittin' twenty-five.' I said, 'Maybe I ought
to be but I ain't.'
"I ain't able to do no work now. I ain't able to tote that wood hardly.
I don't git as much consideration as they give the slaves back yonder.
They didn't make the old people in slavery work when they was my age. My
daddy when he was my age, they turned him out. They give him a rice
patch where he could make his rice. When he died, he had a whole lot of
rice. They stopped putting all the slaves out at hard labor when they
got old. That's one thing. White folks will take care of their old ones.
Our folks won't do it. They'll take a stick and kill you. They don't
recognize you're human. Their parents don't teach them. Folks done quit
teaching their children. They don't teach them the right thing no more.
If they don't do, then they ought to make them do.
Little Rock
"I been here about twenty years in Little Rock. I went and bought this
place and paid for it. Somebody stole seventy-five dollars from me right
here in this house. And that got me down. I ain't never been able to git
up since.
"I paid a man for what he did for me. He said, 'Well, you owe me fifteen
cents.' When he got done he said, 'You owe me fifty cents.' You can't
trust a man in the city.
"I was living down in England. That's a little old country town. I come
here to Little Rock where I could be in a city. I done well. I bought
this place.
"I reckon I lived in Arkansas about thirty years before I left and come
here to Little Rock. When I left Georgia, I come to Arkansas and settled
down in Lonoke County, made crops there. I couldn't tell you how long I
stayed there. I didn't keep no record of it at all. I come out of Lonoke
County and went into Jefferson.