From 1857 to 1862 times had become rather hard on slaves in Chariton
County, Missouri, and were very little better for the free Negroes, for
while they were called free, they really had but few more privileges
than the slave. They had to choose guardians to transact all their
business, even to writing them a pass to go from one township to another
in the same county. They could not own real estate in their own right,
except through their guardian, neither could they sell their crop
without his written consent. Of course, he made a charge for everything
he did for them, which was quite a drain upon their resources. There
were two or three families of free Negroes in that county, and some of
them I often visited. In some cases slave owners did not allow their
slaves to associate or in any way communicate with free Negroes, but our
owner did not prohibit us in this respect, neither did W. B. Bruce.
Previous to 1840, an old man named Brown, and his wife, together with
their slaves, came to Chariton County from the South. They had acquired
seven hundred acres of land in that neighborhood, which were located
about ten miles from Brunswick. They decided to set their slaves free
and leave to them, by will, all their earthly possessions. In order to
fit these freed people for the battle of life, they determined to
educate them, and for this purpose started a school on the plantation,
with themselves as teachers. All who were old enough were compelled to
attend. I am unable to state exactly the date when this commenced, but
remember that those old enough to attend it could read and write fairly
well when I became acquainted with them in 1850. Unfortunately these
people did not succeed well; they became poorer each year after the
death of their master.
There were found many causes for this state of affairs. The property was
left to them as a whole, and was only to be subdivided under certain
conditions named in the will. All were not industrious, and the thrifty
had to support the lazy. The agent claimed the right to sell the crop
each year and divide the earnings equally among the several families.
By order of the Court the plantation was sold in 1855, and the proceeds
divided equally among them, after which the families soon scattered,
some going to Iowa, and others to Illinois. I have not heard from any of
them since. The general opinion was that their guardian, P. T. Abel, got
the cream of that estate, because when he arranged the sale of the
plantation to Captain Withers, he retained five hundred dollars of the
three thousand for his own professional service.
As already stated, there were three families of freed Colored people in
that county, and they could only visit one another occasionally, because
they lived about ten or fifteen miles apart; to do so they had to secure
a written permit from their guardian, for if one of them was caught on
the public road without a pass, he was subject to arrest by any white
man who chose to make it. Respecting these families of free Colored
people, I wish to state that there was one exception, Davy Moore, or
“Free Davy,” as he was called, who lived about five miles from
Keytesville, the county seat of Chariton county. He was a man of good
character, industrious habits, and greatly respected by the better class
of white people. On account of faithful and efficient service, his old
master, Colonel Moore, gave him his freedom, also that of his wife and
children, and eighty acres of land. He was treated like a man; held the
respect not only of the Colored, but the white people as well, and
enjoyed the same privileges as any other man, excepting the right to
vote. In his veins flowed superior blood, and as has already been stated
in a former chapter, that blood will tell, regardless of the color of
the individual in whose veins it flows.
Singularly enough I had more real pleasure and real freedom than these
free people, for with my master’s horse and a pass from him I could ride
over the county, in fact did whenever occasion demanded it, and without
molestation. If disturbed I had only to show my pass, when I would be
immediately released.
Two older brothers of mine, who were bricklayers and stone masons, hired
their time from their owner and travelled, not only in the county where
we lived, but also in the adjoining counties of Carroll, Howard and
Randolph, in search of work, armed with a pass good only in Chariton
County. They had no trouble even outside of that county, because they
were known as slaves. They made their own contracts, collected their
pay, and were not disturbed.
I recall but one instance where either of them had any trouble. One of
them had secured a job in Randolph County by underbidding a white man.
Upon finding he belonged to a man living in another county, this white
man had him arrested. He was carried to Huntsville, the county seat,
for trial. Fortunately there was a man there named Cass Wisdom, who knew
our family, and who had him promptly released and became responsible for
my brother’s behavior while in that county. So that the only difference
between the slave and the free Negro, as I saw it, was that the latter
had no boss to make him work, or punish him if he did not; he could ride
over the county every day if only provided with a pass from his
guardian; he could spend his earnings as he pleased after paying his
guardian’s share. They certainly did not have as much fun as I had,
going to balls and parties given by slaves, where they were not allowed
to come. But still the free fellows felt themselves better than the
slave, because of the fact, I suppose, that they were called free, while
in reality they were no more free than the slave, until the war set both
classes free. So bitter was the feeling existing in Kansas in March,
1864, that those who became free by the war were called, in derision, by
the freeborns, “contrabands.”
An effort was made in Leavenworth, Kansas, in 1865 or 1866, to organize
a combination or social circle, which allowed no contraband to be in it.
The object of this organization, as I understood it, was to control
everything in which Colored people had a voice, and it was to some
extent successful, or at least for a while. During those years a steady
stream of contrabands poured into Kansas, and soon constituted about
ninety per cent. of the colored population. In a few years many had
acquired little homes and standing, and had learned not only the object
of the free class, but their own strength, and it was not long before
they had relegated many of these would-be leaders to the rear. Of
course this brought about a conflicting and unfortunate state of
affairs. The freeborns managed to keep control of politics and
especially the church and other societies; they not only found, but
created places for one another. For a long time after the war, a
contraband preacher, however competent he might be, could not get a
charge that would give him a decent support. All the fat places in the
connection were given to the other class. If a contraband was sent to a
small charge, and worked it up so as to get a fair living out of it, and
so reported to the conference, by some means he was replaced by one of
the other set, and sent further out.
I remember a worthy man named Jesse Mills, now dead, who was a man of
clean character, and had some education, or at any rate could read and
write; he had been preaching before the war, and was a slave. For nearly
ten years that man did not get a decent charge, and if he brought one up
to the point where it supported him, he had to go in order to give place
to some fellow preacher from the North, out of a job.
There were others served equally as badly as Jesse Mills, whose names I
have not the space to mention, save one, who I feel should not be
overlooked. Rev. Moses White had been a preacher for several years prior
to the war, could read and write, in fact preached quite an intelligent
sermon, but not such an one as would suit the conference; he therefore
could not get a charge. He had been one of the men who organized and
built the Colored A. M. E. Church at Leavenworth, prior to 1864; but he
could not be or was not assigned to any charge in that conference, and
about 1867 or 1868, knowing or feeling that he had been called to
preach the gospel, he left the conference and organized a church on his
own responsibility.
I write of these matters as I knew them, not being a member of any
church at that time. In after years young men got in, such as W. A.
Moore, an ex-slave, a man of clean character and of fine education, and
greatly beloved by all who knew him; J. W. Wilson, who had been a slave
and a brave soldier, and others of their class, self-educated men. They
soon superseded those old fogies or leeches, if the term is admissible.
So clearly and successfully has this been accomplished by the admission
of young men, sons of ex-slaves, that to-day the term “contraband,” or
“freeborn,” has been forgotten. But I have drifted away from my subject,
“slavery, as I saw it on a plantation in Missouri,” and with the
permission of the reader, will return, taking up the line of
recollections where I left off.