her not to go over that road for nine days.' But she came with the
striped bottle and destroyed the witch spell again, telling her this
time if she went over the road again for nine days that she would remain
a cripple all her life, for she would not cure her again.
"Della stayed off that road for nine days, this time, and all the
family have worn the silver dime around their legs ever since.
"Another time my old man Sam got down in his back. Well, he went to
Henry Coulter (he was another witch doctor). He just shot in the back
with a glass pistol, and cured him. Of course there was not any bullet
in the pistol, but it cured him. He could draw a picture of a chicken on
a paper and shoot it, and a chicken would fall dead in the yard, yes
sir. I've seen him do it. Old Henry is dead now though. When he died he
had a whole trunk full of the queerest looking things you ever seed. And
they took it all and buried it. Nobody would touch it for anything.
"I always keep a horse shoe over my door to keep the spirits away. We
live very close to the graveyard, and my boy Ed said he had been seeing
his brother Charley in his room every night. If he was livin' right he
would not be seeing Charlie every night. Charlie never bothers me. He
was my boy that died and is buried in this graveyard above our house."
DAVIES CO.
(Cecelia Laswell)
[Mrs. Elizabeth Alexander:]
The following is a very old Negro sermon I found in an old scrap book
dated 1839, belonging to Mrs. Elizabeth Alexander, Frederica St. She
says she has heard her family refer to parts of it at different time in
her early life and supposed that the negro preacher belonged to her
people. Quote: Mine deerly fren: Ub dar's wun ting wot de Lord
abominerates worser nor anudder; it is a wicked nigger! A wicked wite
man's bad snuff, dur Lord nose! but dey so dam wite, an so kussed sarcy,
day doun no no better, so dar's some appolleragee fur 'em; but I gin yer
for th noe as how, a wicked nigger can nibber scape frum de vengence ob
de Lord-day's no use playin possum any more dan day was ob Joner coorin
it into de wale's belly! (Glory from the congregation) Let um go to de
Norf Pole, or to de Souf Pole, to de West Pole, or to de East Pole, or
de Poles in any ob de words; he ant a bit safer den he would be in a
cellar at 5 pints, wid ole Hays arter him! (groans) Oh! niggers! I tink
I see you look round. Yer's better! Fer wot I tells yer's trufe! Gorda
mity's trufe! Werrily I say unter yer! Wen de court ob seshions ob de
las day cum, ye'll reckerlect wot I say at dis times! Wen yer hab de
Lord fer Recorder, an a jury ob angles, an Gabriel ter report der trial
fer de hebbenly "Herald" (deep groans) Yas! den yar'll turn up de wite
ob yer eyes! (Sighs) den ter'll call fer de rock ter cubber yer! An de
hill ter fall top o' yer. No yer don't. Kase, in de fus place day
woodn't do it; an in de libenth place, ub day would it would be no
better dan ridin in a cart in de big city or gettin under de butcher's
stall in de fly market; fer de Lord can move more mountins in wun
minite, dan de biggest nigger in dis congregation could shake a stick at
twixt now an next fort ob July (clapping of hands, sighs, groans and
grunts) Tink, yer black sinners ob de bottomless pit, deeper dan de hole
Holt bored fer water. Oh! yer'll wish yo cood bore fer wat-r dar! but
day's no water dar, an de deeper yer go, Oh, my bredren, de deeper it
git! An den de smell! Yer'll gib yer soul uv yer had any left, jist fur
wun smell ob a rotten egg! Oh, my deelee frens some ob yer hold yer nose
wen yer go by de gas works. How der yer spose yer'l feel dare yer smell
notin but brimstone an nashin ob teeth! (deep groans) Oh, I hear yer
groans, but I ant begin to cum ter worst yit. Oh! my toenail a'most
shake off in ma stockin wen I tink ob dat heat ob infernal regins! Den
yer tink melted led cold as de young gemmen at de big houses tink a miny
julip is now, an besid's my brederen it keeps a burnin nite on day to de
end ob ebrerlastin; yer needn't tink bimeby yer go from dare to hebben
like de Rummin Catlick--No, in de fust place yer don't; an in de second
if yer cood, yer'd git yer def of cole goin frum one place to tudder. An
now, my belobbed brederen, lets in terwestigate how tar git bale; how to
avoid de Sing Sing ob de world wot's got to cume. Fiddlin an dancin wont
do it. Yer'll neber git ter hebben by loafin, pitchin cents, an dancin
Juba! De only way is ter support de preacher, gib yer money ter me, and
I'll take yer sins on my shoulder. An now I beseech yer not ter leebe
dis here holy place an go round er corner, round er corner and fergit de
words yer have heered dis night. Next Wednesday ebenin dar will be a
sarbice in his place de Lord willin, but next Thursday ebenin weffer or
no. An now we will sing inti de 40-elebent him de particlarest meter.
Old Ebe he was de second man fur Adam was de fust----
A black man's made ob ebony, a white man's made o' dust.
Methuselah was the oldest man, but Sampson was the strongest----
Cats, rats, and puppies all hab tails, but monkies is der longest.
(While they were singing the 11th verse, I took my departure.--B.L.)
LAUREL CO.
(Perry Larkey)
Amelia Jones:
Concerning slaves of this section of the country, I will quote
experiences and observation of an old negro lady who was a slave, Mrs.
Amelia Jones, living in North London, Kentucky. "Aunt Amelia" as she is
known around here is eighty-eight years of age, being sixteen years of
age at the close of the Civil War.
Mrs. Jones says, "I will tell as best I can remember, _I was born
eighty-eight years ago in Manchester, Ky. under a master by the name of
Daw White. he was southern republican and was elected as congressman by
that party from Manchester, Ky_. He was the son of Hugh White, the
original founder of Whitesberg, Ky. Master White was good to the slaves,
he fed us well and had good places for us to sleep, and didn't whip us
only when it was necessary, but didn't hesitate to sell any of his
slaves, he said, "You all belong to me and if you don't like it, I'll
put you in my pocket" meaning of course that he would sell that slave
and put the money in his pocket.
The day he was to sell the children from their mother he would tell that
mother to go to some other place to do some work and in her absence he
would sell the children. It was the same when he would sell a man's
wife, he also sent him to another job and when he returned his wife
would be gone. The master only said "don't worry you can get another
one".
Mrs. Jones has a sister ninety-two years of age living with her now, who
was sold from the auction block in Manchester. Her sister was only
twelve years of age when sold and her master received $1,220.00 for her,
then she was taken south to some plantation. Also her father was sold at
that place at an auction of slaves at a high price, handcuffed and taken
south. She never saw her father again. She says the day her father was
sold there was a long line of slaves to be sold and after they were sold
and a good price paid for each they were handcuffed and marched away to
the South, her father was among the number.
The Auction block at Manchester was built in the open, from rough-made
lumber, a few steps, and a platform on top of that, the slave to be
sold. He would look at the crowd as the auctioner would give a general
description of the ability and physical standing of the man. He heard
the bids as they came in wondering what his master would be like.
Mrs. Jones claims she had no privileges, but had as before stated plenty
to eat and wear, and a good place to sleep; but most masters treated
them cruel and beat them most of the time. They were also underfed at
most places, but since they had such a good master they did not want for
a thing.
Cemetery Hill as it is known to us here, being in London, Ky. was a hill
on which a Civil War battle was fought. The trenches are still here. The
hill was given to the north to bury their dead by Jarvis Jackson, a
great grand father of the Jarvis Jackson who is now city police of
London, today. By some reason, the soldiers were taken up and moved to a
different place only a few years ago. Mrs. Hoage says "the first daisies
that were brought to this contry were put on that hill" and she can
remember when the entire hill was covered with them.
The southern side had trenches on the east side of the Dixie Highway on
and surrounding the site where the Pennington Hospital is now standing,
which are very vivid today. The London City School being in the path
bears a hole today from a cannon ball. Shot no doubt from the Southern
forces. The new addition to the school hides the hole, but until recent
years it could be seen being about ten inches in diameter.
Zollie Coffer a southern general had camped at Wild Cat, Ky. but was
forced to retreat when general Garrad and Lucas and Stratton two
captains under him, all from Clay county, with a large crowd came in.
He, on his retreat came through London and had a battle with an army of
Ohioians camped on Cemetery Hill. Quoted a poem by Mrs. Hodge, which she
remembered from those days:
"Just raise your eyes to yon grassy hill,
View the bold Ohioians working with skill,
Their bombs lying around them to spew fiery flames,
Among the seceders, till they wont own their names."
Mrs. Hodge quotes another poem from memory about Gen. Coffer's retreat
from Wild Cat:
"Our tigers and bullpups to Wild Cat did go,
To fight our brave boys, tho our force they did not know.
When they come in gun shot distance, Schelf told them to halt,
We're not Murphey's honey, nor Alex Whites salt.
His orders to his men, was "go thru" or "go to hell"
But our Indiana hoosier bous, heard them too well,
In less than thirty minutes, they gave them many balls,
Wild Cat had had kittens, Oh; don't you hear them squall.
They did not stay long, before they did retreat,
Went on double quick and left all their meat,
As they went back through Barbourville, they say Zollie did say
I've lost fifteen hundred killed or run away.
Away back in Mississippi, we're forced to go
As for our loss you'll never know
Slipped back when the union fell asleep
Hauled off our dead and buried them deep.
To fight against Garrad, it never will do,
Stratton and Lucas is hard to out do,
They conquered our tigers and bull pups too,
In spite of our force and all we could do."
Coffer was killed by Colonel Frye at Mill Springs. A statue is erected
to Zollie Coffer at Somerset, Kentucky.
Both sides were cruel during the Civil War. Mrs. McDaniel who lives here
tells a story of how her father was killed in Clay County, while eating
dinner one day. Some federal soldiers drove up and asked what side he
was on and upon saying the confederate side, they took him outside and
shot him with a gun in his own yard.
Jenny McKee:
Mrs. Jenny McKee, of color, who lives just North of London can tell many
interesting things of her life.
"Aunt Jenny" as she is called, is about eighty-five years of age, and
says she thinks she is older than that as she can remember many things
of the slave days. She tells of the old "masters" home and the negro
shacks all in a row behind the home. She has a scar on her forehead
received when she was pushed by one of the other little slaves, upon a
marble mantle place and received a deep wound in her head.
The old negro lady slaves would sit in the door way of their little
shacks and play with pieces of string, not knowing what else to do to
pass off the time. They were never restless for they knew no other life
than slavery.
Aunt Jenny McKee was born in Texas though she doesn't know what town she
was born in. She remembers when her mother was sold into the hands of
another slave owner, the name of the place was White Ranch Louisiana.
Her mother married again, and this time she went by the name of Redman,
her mother's second husband was named John Redman, and Aunt Jenny altho
her real name was Jenny Garden, carried the name of Redman until she was
married to McKee.
During the War her mother died with cholera, and after the war her
step-father sold or gave her away to an old Negro lady by the name of
Tillet, her Husband was a captain from the 116th regiment from
Manchester.
They had no children and so Aunt Jenny was given or sold to Martha
Tillet. Aunt Jenny still has the paper that was written with her
adoption by Mrs. Martha Tillet and John Redman, the paper was exactly as
written below:
White Ranch
September 10, 1866
To Whom it may concern, I, John Redman has this day given my consent
that Mrs. Martha Tillet can have my child Jenny Redman to raise and own
as her child, that I shall not claim and take her away at any time in
the future.
x
John Redman
his mark
She has a picture in her possession of Captain Tillet in war costume and
with his old rifle. After the war the Tillets were sent back to
Manchester where he was mustered out, Aunt Jenny being with them. "I
stayed with them" Aunt Jenny said, "until I was married Dec. 14, 1876,
to David McKee another soldier of the 116th regiment". She draws a
pension now from his services.
David McKee was a slave under John McKee, father of the late John McKee
of this place. He was finally sold to a man by the name of Meriah
Jackson. "David's masters were good to him" said Jenny "he learned to be
a black smith under them".
Aunt Jenny has the history of the 116th regiment, U.S.C. Infantry.
Tillet was captain in this regiment and David McKee a soldier then was a
lot of soldiers in this regiment from here. Tom Griffin being one, a
slave who died a few years ago. The history was printed in 1866 and this
particular copy was presented to Captain Tillet, and bears his
signature.
The first deed to be put on record in the Laurel County court was
between Media Bledsoe of Garrad County of the first part and Daniel
Garrard of Clay County of the second part. Being 4800 acres of land
lying in Knox County on Laurel River and being that part of 16000 acres
of land patented in the name of John Watts. One thousand dollars was the
sum paid for this land. This is on record in Deed Book "A", page 1. Date
of September 30, 1824.
JEFFERSON CO.
(Byers York)
Susan Dale Sanders:
The following is a story of Mrs. Susan Dale Sanders, #1 Dupree Alley,
between Breckinridge and Lampton Sts., Louisville, an old Negro Slave
mammy, and of her life, as she related it.
"I lived near Taylorsville, Kentucky, in Spencer County, nearly all my
life, 'cept the last fo' or five yea's I'se been livin' here. I was bo'n
there in a log cabin, it was made of logs, and it was chinked with clay
and rock. My Mammy, was raised from a baby by her master, Rueben Dale.
He was a good ole Master, and was alway's good to my Mammy. Master Dale
owned a big farm and had big fields of co'n an' tobacco, and we raised
everything we had to eat. Ole master Dale was a good ole baptist, had
lots of good ole time relig'n. Ruben Dale had lots of slaves, and every
family had its own cabin. As he raised my Mammy as a slave from a baby,
she thought there was none livin' bett'r than her master Dale.
The next fa'm close to the Masters, was owned by a man, Colonel Jack
Allen, and he had a big fa'm and owned lots of slaves. And Mammy was
allowed to marry one of the Allan slaves, and my father's name was Will
Allen. You see the slaves had the same name as the Master's, as he owned
'em. My Mammy had seven children and we all grow'd up on our Master
Dales fa'm. My father had to stay at his master's, Col. Jack Allen's and
wo'k in the fields all day, but at night he would come to my mammy's
cabin and stay all night, and go back to his master's, Col. Allen's
fields the next mon'in. Yes, I grow'd up in slavery times. I used to
carry tubs of clothes down to the old spring house, there was plenty of
water, and I'se washed all the clothes there. Me and my sisters used to
wash and sing and we had a good time. I can't remember much of the ole
song's its been so long ago.
I had two brothers, and they jined the war and fought in the army. One
was named Harry and 'tother Peter. Mammy wo'ked hard, done all the
cookin' but ole Master Dale was so good to all of us children we did't
mind it. I'se was a mischevious gal when I was grow'in up. I'se would
get a lickin' most every-day. I'se alway's like to fight the ot'er
children, and I would say, "Mammy she hit me", but I was bad and I'se
got my whipp'n. On my masters fa'm we killed a lot of hogs for our meat,
had a big trough, that we cut the meat up in, and put the hams and
shoulders together, and the middles together, then put 'em down in salt
for about six weeks, and then hang them up in the smoke-house and smoke
'em with hickory chips. And leave them all the time till we used 'em up.
We had a apple house we used to fill every fall with the best apples.
The ole master sho' had a apple fa'm. Inside of the house there was a
big hole in the ground, dug deep, and we use to fill it full of apples,
then cover it over with a straw, and O Lawd, we would have apples all
wint'r when the snow lies deep on the ground; sure I wish them old days
back.
Some of the other old Masters, who had lots of slaves on fa'ms close by,
was so mean to the slaves they owned. They wo'ked the women and men both
in the fields and the children too, and when the ole Master thought they
was'n't do'n' 'nuf wo'k, he would take his men and strip off their
shirts, and lash them with cow-hide whips until you could see the blood
run down them poor niggers backs.
The Nigger traders would come through and buy up a lot of men, and women
slaves, and get a big drove of them and take them further south to work
in the fields, leavin their babies. I'se never can forget. I know'd some
mean ole masters.
Our ole master Dale that raised my Mammy and her family never was hard
or mean like that. He would let us go to church, have parties and
dances. One of the ole salves would come to our cabin with his fiddle
and we'd dance.
After I'se grow'd up, I'se wo'ked for Mrs. Susan Lovell, that was the
ole masters married daughter. She lived down the road from his fa'm. She
was good to me! You see I was named after Susan Lovell. It was while I
was wo'kin' fo' her when the war ended. She told me I was free after the
war was over. I got happy and sung but I didn't know for a long time,
what to be free was, so after the war she hired me and I stayed on doin'
all the cookin' and washin' and all the work, and I was hired to her for
four dollars a month. After the war was over my father died. And it
wasn't long after that, I Married Wm. Sanders and we had six children. I
got a Government pension, as my husband was in the army during the Civil
War and he was wounded in the body, but he lived a long time after the
war was ended.
In the ole days we used to sing and go to church, sing the ole time
religion, and when we danced we sung: "Who's been here since I'se been
gone, Ah, that gal with the blue dress on."
I'se still believes in lots of good and bad luck signs, but forget most
of 'em, "But if you drap a knife, on the floor someone is sure to come
to see you, and if you dream of money that is good luck." "To sneeze at
the table is bad luck, to sneeze when away from the table good luck."
"If you dream of the stars is bad luck."
John Anderson:
A story resulting from an interview with John Anderson, an old Negro
slave:
"I was born in Pennsylvania, on Shiptown road, Clinton County, close to
Mercersberg. When I was growing up my mammy always believed in making
her own medicine, and doctored the whole family with the roots she dug
herself. She use to bile down the roots from may-apple, snake root and
blood root, and make her medicine. This was good for the blood and keep
us from gettin' sick.
While the wah was goin' on, the soldiers were campin' all about us and
when they heer'd the Gray's was comin' they got ready for battle, and
when they did come they fit' em back, and they made their stand at
Harpers Ferry, Va., and had a hard battle there. My mammy was scared of
the Gray's and when she heer'd they was comin', would hide us three boys
in some white folks cellar until they was gone. They would take all the
young niggahs with them they could get hold of, and soon as they'd gone,
we would go back home.
When the wah was over, me and some boys went over to the battlefield and
foun' a calvary gun which I had for years. We lived in a log cabin on a
farm and worked for a farmer in the fields while my mammy worked in the
house for the white folks. We had lots of things that is good and bad
luck."
Joana Owens:
The following is the life and traditions of Joana Owens, 520 E.
Breckinridge St., Louisville, Kentucky, an old negro mammy who was born
during slavery.
"My mother and father was slaves, and there was two children born to
them, my sister and me. We used to live at Hawesville, Kentucky, on the
Ohio River. My peoples name was Barr, and their masters name was Nolan
Barr. You know they all had to take their masters name in slave days.
I will never forget how mean old Master Nolan Barr was to us. I was
about fourteen years old and my sister was a little younger. We lived in
an old log cabin. The cracks was filled with mud. My Mother done the
housework for Master Barr's house. My father and sister and me had to
work in the fields. He had a big farm, and owned lots of slaves, and
when the old master got mad at his slaves for not working hard enough he
would tie them up by their thumbs and whip the male slaves till they
begged for mercy. He sure was a mean old man. I will never forget him as
long as I live. I don't know exactly how old I is, but I am close to
ninety now. After I growed up and married a man named Owens, we come
here to Louisville to live. That was a short while after the slaves was
freed. I can remember how me and my sister used to go down to the river
and watch the red hospital boats come in, bringing the wounded soldiers
in to be cared for, and me and sister would go long
singing--Nigger--Nigger--never die, if you want a chicken pie."
[Martha J. Jones:]
In an interview with Mrs. Martha J. Jones, she reminisced of the old
Civil War days as follows:
"I was born in Buckingham County, Virginia, and later during the Civil
War, I lived in Gilmer County, W. Va. My fathers name was Robert R.
Turner; he was born in 1818 and my mother's name was Susan; she was born
in 1821. My parents had six children and we lived on a big farm.
My father was in the legislature in W. Va. During the Civil War, I had
three brother in the Southern Army. One of them died of fever, one was
shot and killed in action, and the other William Wert Turner, came out
of the army after the close of the war and became a lawyer. Later he
went to New Castle, Kentucky, and became a prominent lawyer, where he
remained until his death in 1932.
I married John R. Jones, a lieutenant in the Union Army, at Gilmer, W.
Va., when I was about twenty years old, shortly after the war. We then
moved to New Castle, Kentucky, Henry County. We had four children born
to us, and I now have three living children; later on in years we moved
to Louisville. During the days of the Civil War my father owned three
slave, one was an old darkey named Alex, and the nigger mammies, were
Diana and Mary Ann. My parents were always good to their slaves, and
never traded or sold them. They were good workers and my father never
kept many.
My Uncle, John C. Turner, had farms close to my father's in West Va.,
and he had fifty-two slaves when the war ended. He would buy, sell and
trade them all the time. The slaves were judged by the Masters. If they
were big and strong they would bring a good price, as they would be
better workers for the fields, and then, I would watch my uncle swap and
buy slaves, just the same as he was buying any other stock for his farm.
I am getting [HW: old] now, and my memory is not so good no more, and it
is hard to remember the things of so long ago. You see, I will be ninety
years old, next Feb. 23rd. I was born in 1847."
FLOYD CO.
(John I. Sturgill)
Charlie Richmond:
We are unable to interview ex-slaves in Floyd County, so far as anyone
we are able to contact knows, there are no living ex-slaves in the
County. There are several colored people. The majority of them reside at
Tram, Kentucky, Floyd County, in a kind of colored colony, having been
placed there just after the Civil War. A small number of colored people
live in the vicinity of Wayland, Kentucky, the original being the
remains of a wealthy farmer of Civil War day, by name of Martin. The
colored people were identified as "Martin's Niggers."