Person interviewed: George Brown
Route 4; Box 159, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 84
"Yes'm, I was born in slavery times. I was born in 1854. How old does
that leave me?
"No ma'am, I wasn't born in Arkansas, born in Alabama.
"Jim Hart was my white folks. Good to me? I'd rather let that alone.
Plenty to eat? I'll have to let that alone too. I used to say my old
missis was 'Hell a mile.' Her name was Sarah. She was a Williams but she
married Jim Hart. They had about a hundred and seventy head, little and
big together.
"Me? I was a servant at the house. I didn't do any field work till after
surrender.
"Some women was pretty mean and old miss was one of 'em.
"You'll get the truth now--I ain't told you half.
"We lived in Marengo County. The Tombigbee River divided it and Sumter
County. The War didn't get down that far. It just got as far as Mobile.
"Oh yes'm, I knowed they was a war gwine on. I'd be waitin' on the table
and I'd hear the white folks talkin'. I couldn't keep all I heard.
"I know I heard 'em say General Grant went up in a balloon and counted
all the horses and mules they had in Vicksburg.
"I seen them gunboats gwine down the Tombigbee River. And I seen a
string of cotton bales as long as from here to there floatin' down the
river to Mobile. I reckon they was gettin' it away from the Yankees. You
see we was a hundred and fifty miles north of Mobile.
"I wish you'd a caught me with my mind runnin' that way. I could open
your eyes.
"They had a overseer named Sothern. One Sunday my mammy slipped off and
went to church. Some of 'em told Sothern and he told Miss Sarah. And she
had mammy called out and they had a strop 'bout as wide as any hand and
had holes in it, and they started whippin' her. I was runnin' around
there with my shirt tail full of bricks and I was chunkin' 'em at that
overseer. He would a caught me and whipped me too but Tom Kelly--that
was old miss' son-in-law--said, 'A calf loves the cow,' so he wouldn't
let old miss whip me.
"I come away from Alabama in '75. I lived in Tallulah, Louisiana eight
years and the rest of the time I been here in Arkansas.
"I've farmed most of the time. I owned one farm, forty-nine acres, but
my boy got into trouble and I had to sell it.
"Then I've been a engineer in sawmills and at gins. I used to be a round
man--I could work any place.
"Me? Vote? No, I never did believe in votin'. I couldn't see no sense in
it. They was mobbin' and killin' too much for George Brown. I was a
preacher--Baptist. I was a ordained preacher. I could marry 'em. Oh
Lord, I ain't preached in a long time. I got so I couldn't stand on my
feet.
"I been in the Church of God sixty-one years. Never been in any lawsuit
or anything like that in my life. I always tried to keep out of
trouble.
"I 'member one time I come nearest to gettin' drowned in the Tombigbee
River. We boys was in washin' and we got to divin' and I div where it
was too deep. When I come up, look like a world of water. A boy in a
skiff come and broke right to me. I reckon I was unconscious, I didn't
know what. But them boys wasn't unconscious.
"I think the younger generation is mighty bad. There's some exceptions
but the general run is bad. I've seen the time you could go to a white
man and he would help you but these young white folks, they turn from
you."
Interviewer: Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: J.N. Brown
3500 West 7th Ave.
Pine Bluff, Ark.
Age: 79
Occupation: Sells peanuts from wagon
"Yes'm, I was livin' in slavery times--musta been--I was born in 1858,
near Natchez, Mississippi--in town.
"Old Daniel Virdin was my first master. I can halfway remember him. Oh
Lord, I remember that shootin'. Used to clap my hands--called it
foolishness. We kids didn't know no better.
"I was in Camden, Arkansas when we was freed. Colored folks in them days
was sold and run. My father was in Camden when we got free--he was sold.
My mother was sold too.
"I heared em say they had a good master and mistis. Man what bought em
was named Brown. They runned us to Texas durin' the war and then come
back here to Camden.
"I never went to school. I was the oldest chile my father had out a
sixteen and I had to work. We had a kinda hard time. I stayed in Camden
till I was eighteen and then I runned off from my folks and went to
Texas. Times was so tight in Arkansas, and a cattleman come there and
said they'd give me twenty-five dollars a month in Texas. I thought that
would beat just something to eat. I been workin' for the white folks and
just gettin' a little grub and not makin' any money.
"In Texas I worked for some good white folks. John Worth Bennet was the
man who owned the ranch. I stayed there seven years and saved my money.
I was just nacherly a good nigger. That was in Hopkins County, Texas.
"I've got a good memory. That's all I got to study bout is how to take
care of the situation. I was livin' there in that country in 1882, fore
the Spanish-American War.
"I come back here to Arkansas in 1900. My father was named Nelson Brown.
He preached. My mother's name was Sally Brown.
"Long in that time we tried to vote but we didn't know 'zactly what we
was doin. I think I voted once or twice, but if a man can't read or
write and have to have somebody make out his ticket, he don't know what
he's votin', so I just quit tryin' to vote.
"Now about this younger generation, you've asked me a question it's hard
for me to answer. With all these nineteenth century niggers, the more
education they got, the bigger crooks they is.
"We colored people are livin' under the law, but we don't make no laws.
You take a one-armed man and he can't do what a two-armed man can. The
colored man in the south is a one-armed man, but of course the colored
man can't get along without the white folks. But I've lived in this
world long enough to know what the cause is--I know why the colored man
is a one-armed man."
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Lewis Brown
708 Oak Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 83
"Yes'm my name is Brown--Lewis Brown. Yes'm I lived durin' slavery
times. I was born in 1854.
"I been workin' this mornin'. I been diggin' up the ground to bed up
some onions. No I don't work every day. Sometimes I feel ailin'--don't
feel like doin' nothin'.
"I wasn't big enough to 'member 'bout the war. All I 'member is seein'
the soldiers retirin' from the war. They come by my old master's
plantation. The Yankees was in front--they was the horsebackers. Then
come the wagons and then the southern soldiers comin' along in droves.
"I was born in Arkansas. My mother and father belonged to Dr. Jordan. He
was the biggest slaveholder in Arkansas. He was called the 'Nigger
Ruler'. If the overseer couldn't make a slave behave, the old doctor
went out with a gun and shot him. When the slaves on other plantations
couldn't be ruled, they was sold to Dr. Jordan and he ruled 'em or
killed 'em.
"I don't 'member much else 'bout my old master but I 'member my old
mistress. The last crop she made before freedom, she had two plantations
with overseers on 'em and on one plantation they didn't 'low no kind a
slave 'cept South Carlinans. But on the other plantation the slaves come
from different places.
"After the war we went to Texas and I 'member my old mistress come down
there to get her old colored folks to come back to Arkansas. Lots of 'em
went back with her. She called herself givin' 'em a home. I don't know
what she paid--I never heard a breath of that but she hoped 'em to get
back. I didn't go--I stayed in Texas and growed up and married there and
then come back to Arkansas in 1882.
"Oh yes'm--the Ku Klux was plentiful after peace. They went about
robbin' people.
"Some of the colored folks thought they was better off when they was
slaves. They was the ones that had good masters. Some of the masters
didn't 'low the overseers to 'buke the slaves and some wouldn't have
overseers.
"I never did vote for no President, just for home officers. I don't know
what to say 'bout not letting the colored folks vote now. They have to
pay taxes and 'spenses and I think they ought to have something to say
'bout things.
"'How did you lose your arm?' It was shot off. I got into a argument
with a fellow what owed me twenty-four dollars. He decided to pay me off
that way. That was when I was 'bout seventy. He's dead now.
"I think the people is more wickeder now. The devil got more chances
than he used to have and the people can't do right if they want to."
Name of interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Subject: Humorous Tales of Slavery Days
"I was born in 1854 and 'co'se I wasn't big enough to work much in
slavery times, but one thing I did do and that was to tote watermelons
for the overseer and pile 'em on the porch.
"I 'member he said if we dropped one and broke it, we'd have to stop
right there and eat the whole thing. I know I broke one on purpose so I
could eat it and I 'member he made me scrape the rind and drink the
juice. I know I eat till I was tired of that watermelon.
"And then there was a lake old master told us to stay out of. If he
caught you in it, he'd take you by the shirt collar and your heels and
throw you back in.
"I know he nearly drowned me once."
This information given by: Lewis Brown
Place of residence: 808 W. Eighth, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Occupation: Retired minister
Age: 84
Name of interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Subject: Child Rearing Customs of Early Days
"In them days, folks raised one another's chillun. If a child was at
your house and misbehaved, you whipped him and sent him home and his
mother give him another whippin'.
"And you better _not 'spute_ your parents!"
This information given by: Lewis Brown
Place of residence: 802 W. Eighth. Pine Bluff. Arkansas
Occupation: None, retired minister
Age: 84
Circumstances of Interview
STATE--Arkansas
NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor
ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas
DATE--December, 1938
SUBJECT--Ex-slave
1. Name and address of informant--Lewis Brown, 2100 Pulaski Street,
Little Rock
2. Date and time of interview--
3. Place of interview--2100 Pulaski Street, Little Hock, Arkansas
4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in touch with
informant--
5. Name and address of person, if any, accompanying you--
6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.--
Personal History of Informant
STATE--Arkansas
NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor
ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas
DATE-December, 1938
SUBJECT-Ex-slave
NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Lewis Brown, 2100 Pulaski Street, Little
Rock.
1. Ancestry--father, Lewis Bronson; mother, Millie Bronson.
2. Place and date of birth--Born April 14, 1855 in Kemper County,
Mississippi.
3. Family--Five children.
4. Places lived in, with dates--Lived in Mississippi until the eighties,
then moved to Helena, Arkansas. Moved from Helena to Little Rock.
5. Education, with dates--
6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates--Farming.
7. Special skills and interests--
8. Community and religious activities--Belongs to Baptist Church.
9. Description of informant--
10. Other points gained in interview--Facts concerning child life,
status of colored girls, patrollers, marriage and sex relationships,
churches and amusements.
Text of Interview (Unedited)
STATE--Arkansas
NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor
ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas
DATE--December, 1938
SUBJECT--Ex-slave
NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Lewis Brown, 2100 Pulaski Street, Little
Rock.
"I was born in 1855, April 14, in Kemper County, Mississippi, close to
Meridian. I drove gin wagons in the time of the war in a horse-power
gin. I carried matches and candles down to weigh cotton with in slavery
times.
"They had to pick cotton till dark. They had to tote their weight
hundred pounds, two pounds, whatever it was down to the weighing place
and they had to weigh it. Whatever you lacked of having your weight, you
would get a lick for. On down till they called us out for the war, that
was the way it was. They were goin' to give my brother fifty lashes but
they come and took him to the army, and they didn't git to whip him.
"My father was Lewis Bronson. He come from South Carolina. My mother was
stole. The speculators stole her and they brought her to Kemper County,
Mississippi, and sold her. My mother's name was Millie. My father's
owner was Elijah McCoy. Old Elijah McCoy was the owner, but they didn't
take his name. They went back to the old standard mark after the
surrender. They went back to the people where they come from, and they
changed their names--they changed off of them old names. McCoys was my
masters, but my father went back to the name of the people way back over
in there in South Carolina, where he come from. I don't know nothin'
bout them. He was the father of nine children. He had two wives. One of
them he had nine by, and the other one he had none by. So he went back
to the one he had the nine children by.
Early Life
"I was ten years old when war was ended. I had to carry matches and
candles to the cotton pickers. It would be too dark for them to weigh
up. They couldn't see. They had tasks and they would be picking till
late to git their tasks done. Matches and candles come from the big
house, and I had to bring it down to them. That was two years before the
war.
"I wasn't big enough to do nothing else, only drive to the gin. I drove
horse-power to the gin.--drove mules to the gin. I would drive the cows
out to the pasture too. The milk women would milk them. Lawd, I could
not do no milking. I was too small. The milk women would milk them and I
would drive the cows one way and the calves another so that they
couldn't mix. And at night I would go git them and they would milk them
again. The milk women milked them. What would I know bout milkin.
"I never did any playin', 'cept plain marbles and goin' in swimmin'.
Schooling
"The white girls and boys learned us our A-B-C's after the war. They had
a free school in Kemper County there. My children I learnt them myself
or had it done. You couldn't hardly ever find one in Kemper Country that
could spell and go on. They didn't have no time for that. Some few of
them learned their A-B-C's before the war. But that is all. They learned
what they learned after the war in the free government schools mostly.
They would not do nothin' to you if they caught you learnin' in slave
time. Sometimes the white children would teach you your A-B-C's.
Status of Colored Girls
"They had mighty mean ways in that country. They would catch young
colored girls and whip them and make them do what they wanted. There
wasn't but one mean one on our place. He was ordered to go to war and he
didn't; so they pressed him. He was the one that promised my brother a
whipping. He left like this morning and come back a week from today
dead. The rest of them was pretty good. The mean one was Elijah.
Master's Sons
"Old man McCoy had four sons; Elijah, that was the mean one, Redder,
Nelson, Clay.
Patrollers
"Sometimes the pateroles would do the devil with you if they caught you
out without a pass. You could go anywhere you pleased if you had a pass.
But if you didn't have a pass, they'd give you the devil.
Marriage and Sex Relationships
"You could have one wife over here and another one over there if you
wanted to. My daddy had two women. And he quit the one that didn't have
no children. People weren't no more 'n dogs them days,--weren't as much
as dogs.
Mother and Father's Work
"In slavery time, my father worked at the field. Plowed and hoed and
made cotton and corn--what else was he goin' to do. My mother was a
cook.
Sustenance
"My master fed us and clothed us and give us something to eat. Some of
them was hell a mile. Some of them was all kinds of ways. Our people was
good. One of them was mean.
Father's Brother
"My father's brother belonged to Elijah. I had an auntie over in there
too. I don't know what become of them all. They were all in Kemper
county, Mississippi.
Churches
"The white people had churches in slavery times just like they have now.
The white people would have service one a month. But like these street
cars. White people would be at the front and colored would fill up back.
They'll quit that after a while. Sometimes they would have church in the
morning for the white folks and church in the evening for the colored.
They would baptize you just like they would anybody else.
"I'll tell you what was done in slave time. They'd sing and pray. The
white folks would take you to the creek and baptize you like anybody
else.
"Sometimes the slaves would be off and have prayer meetings of their
own--nothing but colored people there. They soon got out uh that.
"Sometimes they would turn a tub or pot down. That would be when they
were making a lot of fuss and didn't want to bother nobody. The white
people wouldn't be against the meeting. But they wouldn't want to be
disturbed. If you wanted to sing at night and didn't want nobody to hear
it, you could just take an old wash pot and turn it down--leave a little
space for the air, and nobody could hear it.
Amusement
"The grown folks didn't have much amusement in slavery times. They had
banjo, fiddle, melodian, and things like that. There wasn't no baseball
in those days. I never seed none. They could dance all they wanted to
their way. They danced the dotillions and the waltzes and breakdown
steps, all such as that. Pick banjo! U-umph! They would give corn
huskins; they would go and shuck corn and shuck so much. Get through
shucking, they would give you dinner. Sometimes big rich white people
would give dances out in the yard and look at their way of dancing, and
doing. Violin players would be colored.
"Have cotton picking too sometimes at night, moonshiney nights. That's
when they'd give the cotton pickings. Say you didn't have many hands,
then they'd go and send you one hand from this place and one from that
place. And so on. Your friends would do all that for you. Between 'em
they'd git up a big bunch of hands. Then they'd give the cotton picking,
and git your field clared up. They'd give you something to eat and
whiskey to drink.
How Freedom Came
"Notice was given to my father that he was free. White people in that
country give it to him. I don't know what they said to my father. Then
the last gun was fired. I don't know where peace was declared. Notice
come how that everybody was free. Told my daddy, 'You're just as free as
I am.' Some went back to their daddy's name. Some went back to their
master's name. My daddy went back to his old master's name.
Right after the War
"First year after the war, they planted a crop. Didn't raise no cotton
during the war, from the time the war started till it ended, they didn't
raise no cotton.
"After the war, they give the colored people corn and cotton, one-third
and one-fourth. They would haul a load of it up during the war I mean,
during the time before the war, and give it to the colored people.
"They had two crops. No cotton in the time of the war, nothing but corn
and peas and potatoes and so on. All that went to the white people. But
they divided it. They give all so much round. Had a bin for the white
and a bin for the colored. The next year they commenced with the third
and fourth business--third of the cotton and fourth of the corn. You
could have all the peanuts you wanted. You could sell your corn but they
would only give you fifty cents for it--fifty cents a bushel.
"My father farmed and sharecropped for a while after the war. He changed
from his master's place the second year and went on another place. He
farmed all his life. He raised all his children and got wore out and
pore. He died in Kemper County, Mississippi. All his children and
everything was raised there.
Life Since the War
"I came to Arkansas in the eighties. Come to Helena. I did carpenter and
farm work in Helena. I made three crops, one for Phil Maddox, two with
Miss Hobbs. I come from Helena here.
"I married in Mississippi in Roland Forks, sixty miles this side of
Vicksburg. I had two boys and three girls. Two girls died in Helena. One
died in Roland Forks before I come to Helena. Nary one of the boys
didn't die.
"I don't do no work now. This rheumatism's got me down. I call that age.
If I could work, I couldn't git nothing worth while. These niggers here
won't pay you nothing they promise you. My boy's got me to feed as long
as I live now. I did a batch of work for the colored people round here
in the spring of the year and I ain't got no money for it yit.
"I belong to the Mount Zion Baptist Church; I reckon I do. I got down
sick so I couldn't go and I don't know whether they turned me OUT OR NO.
I tell you, people don't care nothin about you when you get old or
stricken down. They pretend they do, but they don't. My mind is good and
I got just as much ambition as I ever had. But I don't have the
strength.
"I haven't got but a few more days to lag round in this world. When you
get old and stricken, nobody cares, children nor nobody else."
Interviewer: Miss Bailie C. Miller
Person interviewed: Mag Brown, Clarksville, Arkansas
Age: 85
"I was born in North Carolina and come South with my white folks. They
was trying to git out of the war and run right into it. My mother died
when I was a baby. I don't remember my mother no more than you do. I
left my white folks. When I was 14 years old, we lived out in the
country. They was willing to keep me but after the war they was so poor.
The girls told me if I could come to town and find work I had better do
it. Two of them come nearly to town with me. They told me I was free to
come to town and live with the colored folks. I didn't know what it
meant to be free. I was just as free as I wanted to be with my white
folks. When I got to town I stayed with your aunt awhile then she sent
me down to stay with your grandma. A white girl who lived with them,
like one of the family, learned me how to cook and iron. I knew how to
wash.
"I don't know anything about the present generation. I ain't been able
to git out for the last year or two. I think I broke my foot, for I had
to go on crutches a long time.
"The white folks always sung but I don't know what they sung. I didn't
pay no tention to it then."
Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Mary Brown, Clarendon, Arkansas
Age: Born in 1860
"Mama was born in slavery but never sold. Grandma and her husband was
sold and brung eleven children to Crystal Springs. They was sold to Mr.
Munkilwell. I was born there. Grandma was born in Virginia. Her back was
cut all to pieces where she had been beat by her master. Both of them
was whooped. He was a hostler and blacksmith.
"When grandma was a young woman she didn't have no children, so her
master thought sure she was barren. He sold her to Taylors. Here come
'long eleven children. Taylor sold them. After freedom she had another.
He was her onliest boy. That was so funny to hear her tell it. I never
could forgit it long as I ever know a thing. Grandma's baby child was
seventy-four years old, 'cepting that boy what was a stole child. She
died not long ago at Carpendale, Mississippi. I got the letter two weeks
ago. But she had been dead a while 'fore they writ to me. Her name was
Aunt Miny. She didn't have no children.
"Grandma said the first time she was sold--the first day of July--they
put her in a trader yard in Virginia. She was crying and says, 'Take me
back to my mama.' An old woman said, 'You are up to be sold.'
"Aunt Helen, her sister, was taking her husband something in the field.
They fooled her away from her five little children. Grandma said she
never was seen no more. She was much older than grandma. Grandma stayed
with her slavery husband till he died.
"Since freedom some people tried to steal my mama. She was a fast runner
and could dance. They wanted to make money out of her. They would bet on
her races. At Lernet School they took about thirty-six children off in
wagons. Never could get trace of them. Never seen nor heard of a one of
them again. That was in this state at Lernet School years ago but since
freedom.
"I was born during the War soon after Master Munkilwell took mama over.
He didn't ever buy her. Mama died young but grandma lived to be over a
hundred years old. She told me all I know about real olden times.
"I just looks on in 'mazement at this young generation. They is happy
all right. Times not hard for them glib and well as they seems. Times
have changed a sight since I was born in this world and still changing.
Sometimes it seems like they are all right. Ag'in times is tough on old
folks like me. This is all in the Bible--about the times and folks
changing."