Kentucky, was "Uncle" Charlie Richmond, of Prestonsburg. Uncle Charlie
was brought to the county by old Judge Richmond, father of I. Richmond
of the Richmond Dept. Stores of Prestonsburg, about the time of the
Civil War. When the war was over "Uncle" Charlie worked at Richmond's
for hire and lived as a member of the family. While working on a
Prestonsburg newspaper, Mr. Wallen interviewed this old ex-slave and
worked him into a feature story for his paper. These old paper files
were destroyed by fire about 1928.
Mr. Wallen remembers that "Uncle" Charlie Richmond, as the old ex-slave
was called, died in 1910, was buried in Prestonsburg, and that he, W.S.
Wallen, wrote up the old Darkey's death and funeral for his newspaper.
This is the same paper who's files were destroyed by fire and which
papers does not now exist.
Old Judge Richmond brought this old slave, from Virginia about 1862,
along with a number of other slaves. "Uncle" Charlies was the only slave
that remained in the family as a servant after the Emancipation
Proclamation.
Mr. Wallen is a lawyer in Prestonsburg, Kentucky, a member of the James
and Wallen Law Firm, located in the Lane Bldg., on Court St. He was born
at Goodlow, Kentucky in Floyd County, March 15, 1866. He taught school
in Floyd County thirteen years, took his L.L.B. at Law School in
Valpariso, Ind., in 1910, and later served as representative to the
Kentucky General Assembly from the 93rd District, the 1922-24 and 26
Sessions.
The List of People who owned Slaves in Floyd County include:
Sophia Lane, Lanesville.
Jim Lane, Lanesville
Gilbert Higgins, Wilson's Creek
George May, Maytown
Hi Morgan, Prestonsburg
Penny J. Sizemore, Prestonsburg
Samuel P. Davidson, Prestonsburg
I. Richmond, Prestonsburg
Valentine Mayo, Prestonsburg
---- Lanes, Prestonsburg
Kennie Hatcher, Lanesville
Morgan Clark, John's Creek
Daniel Hager, Hager Shoals near what is Auxier, Ky.
Adam Gayheart, Prestonsburg
John P. Martin, Prestonsburg
Jacob Mayo, Sr., Prestonsburg
Wm. Mayo, Jr., Prestonsburg
Johnny Martin, Wayland, Kentucky
Thomas Johns, Dwale, Ky.
Isom Slone, Beaver Creek
John Bud Harris, Emma, Kentucky
Billy Slone, Caney Fork, Right Beaver, Kentucky.
This list is as remembered by the oldest citizens, and one T.J. "Uncle"
Jeff Sizemore, 94 years old Civil War Veteran and citizen of
Prestonsburg, Kentucky, dictated then to the writer in just this order.
The nearest auction blocks were Mt. Sterling, Kentucky and Gladdville,
Virginia. Most slaves from the present Floyd County Territory were
bought and sold through auction in southwest Virginia. Other auction
blocks were at Abington and Bristol, Virginia.
The negro dialect of this county is a combination of the dialect white
folk use plus that of the negro of the South. The colored population is
continually moving back and forth from Alabama, Georgia and North and
South Carolinas. They visit a lot. Colored teachers so far have all been
from Ohio. Most visiting colored preachers come from Alabama and the
Carolinas. The negroes leave out their R's use an't han't gwin, su' for
sir, yea for yes, dah for there and such expressions as, "I's Ye?"
The wealthiest families o' white folk still retain colored servants. In
Prestonsburg, Kentucky one may see on the streets neat looking colored
gals leading or wheeling young white children along. Folk say this is
why so many southerners leave out their R's and hold on to the old
superstitions, they've had a colored mama for a nurse-maid.
Adam Gearheart was a sportsman and used negro Jockeys. His best jockey,
Dennis, was sold to Morg. Clark, John's Creek. The old race track took
in part of the east end of the present Prestonsburg--from Gearheart's
home East in Mayo's bottom one mile to Kelse Hollow--Jimmie Davidson now
lives at the beginning of the old track, near Maple Street. Mike Tarter
of Tennessee, Gearheart's son-in-law brought horses from Tennessee and
ran them here. Tarter was a promoter and book-maker also. Penny J.
Sizemore and Morg. Clark were other sportsmen. This was as early as 1840
up to the Civil War.
Slaves ware traded, bought and sold between owners just as domestic
animals are today. Where one owned only a few servants with no families
they lived in the big house--otherwise in Slave quarters, little cabins
nearby.
Billy Slone just had two female servants, he bought them in Virginia 15
years old, for $1,000.00 sound.
Many folk went over to Mt. Sterling or Lexington to auctions for trading
servants. (The same manner is used trading stock today).
Slave traders came into the county to buy up slaves for the Southern
plantations, and cotton or sugar fields--Slave families were very
frequently separated, some members mean, theiving, or running away
niggers were sold (first) down the river. Sometimes good servants were
sold for the price, the master being in a financial strait or dire need
of money. Traders handcuffed their servants purchased, and took them by
boat or horse-back down the river or over in Virginia and Carolina
tobacco fields.
Good servants were usually well treated and not over-worked. Mean or
contrary servants were whipped, or punished in other ways. Run-aways
were hunted--dogs being used to track them at times.
OWENS CO.
(John Forsee)
George Dorsey:
Although this article is presented in narrative form and has but few
characters, the writer believes it to be an excellent example of life in
Owen County sixty or more years ago. With the exception of the grey
eagle episode, similar events to these described were happening all over
the county. There is no reason to doubt the authenticity of any part of
the article. The narrator (George Dorsey, age 76 (negro) Owentown,
Kentucky, born in slavery and raised by a white family) bears a good
reputation and is intelligent enough to react favorably and
intelligently to questions concerning the past. Further interviews
concerning more general subjects are planned.
"I was born on the 16th day of June, 1860 on the ole poor house farm
'bout two miles from Owentown. My mother yousta tell me I'd be a sleepy
head. I didn't know what she meant by that so finally one day, after I
got to be a great big boy, I asked her what she meant.
"Well, she says, Chickens that is hatched in June jess stand 'round in
the hot sun an' sleep themselves to death. So, as you was born in June,
you'll jess be a sleepy head."
"My mother belonged to Sammy Duvall, the father o' little Sam Duvall who
died not long ago. Little Sam usta be town marshall here and a guard at
the pen over at Frankfort. I was born a slave an' stayed one till the
niggers was freed.
"Bout the time the war was over I seen my first soldier. The road that
passed along in front of our house was a dirt road. I'd gone with mother
to watch her milk a young cow late one night, 'bout dark I guess, when I
heard somebody hollerin' and yellin' an' I looked down the road an' seen
'em comin'. I was 'bout five years old then an' it looked to me like all
the army was comin' up the road. The captain was on a hawse an' the men
afoot an' the dust from the dirt road a flyin'. There was a moon shinin'
an' you could see the muskets shinin' in the moonlight. I was settin' on
a fence an' when I seen 'em it scared me so I started to run. When I
jumped off I fell an' cut a hole in my for'head right over this left
eye. The scar's there yet. I run in the house and hid. Mr. Sammy Duvall
had to get on a hawse an' go to New Liberty an' fetch a doctor to plug
up the hole in my head. I seen lots of soldiers after that an' I always
run under the bed or hid in a closet or somewheres. They stayed 'round
here for a long time. Finally provender got low and the soldiers took to
stealing. We called it stealin', but I reckon it warn't for they come
and got the stuff like meat out o' the smoke house in broad open
daylight. Mr. Duvall had a chestnut earl stallion he called Drennon an'
they come, or somebody did, an' got him one night. One day, 'bout two or
three weeks later, Will Duvall, a son o' Mr. Sammy Duvall, heard that
the hawse was over in Henry County where the soldiers had a camp. So he
went over there and found the Captain an' told him he'd come after old
Drennon. The Captain said to describe him an' Will said, "Captain, he's
a chestnut earl named Drennon. If'n I whistl' a certain way he' nicker
an' answer me."
"Well, they went down to the stable where they had a lot of stalls like,
under tents. An' when they got there, Will, he whistled, an' sure
'nough, old Drennon nickered. So the Captain, he said, That's your hawse
all right. Go in an' get him an' take him on home.
Will brought the hawse home an' took him down in the woods on the creek
where the water'd washed all the dirt offen a big, flat rock and we kep
him hid for three or four weeks. We didn't want to loose him again.
When I was 'bout six years old we moved offen the creek to a new road up
on the ridge. It was on the same farm but to another house. I had a
great big, ole grey cat I called "Tom." I wanted to move him so I put
him in a pillow slip so's he couldn't see where we wus takin' him so he
couldn't fin' the way back. He stayed 'round his new home for a few days
an' then he went back to his ole home. Mr. Duvall went and got him again
for me. Not many white men would do that for a little nigger boy. He
musta told Tom somethin' for he never run off no more.
Mr. Duvall usta ride a blazed-face, sarl [HW: sorrel] mare named Kit. He
most al'ays taken me up behind him, 'specially if he was goin' to town.
Kit was trained to hunt deer. I can't remember any deer in the country
but Mr. Duvall yousta tell me 'bout 'em an 'bout the way they had their
hawses trained. He said there wus a place down on Panther Lick Creek,
below where we lived, that was a deer lick. The deer would come there
and lick the ground close to the creek because there was salt left there
by the high waters. He'd put a strap with a littel bell on 'round ole
Kit's neck; an' tie her to a tree not far from this lick. Then he'd hide
behin' 'nother tree close to Kit. When the deer come ole Kit'd shake her
head an' the deer would raise their heads to see what the noise made by
the bell was an' where it was comin' from. Then he'd shoot the deer in
the head. He showed me the place where he killed the biggest buck he
ever seen right here jess out o' town a little ways. He kept the horns.
An' I remember seein' 'em in the attic at his house. He had an ole
riffle he called "Ole Betsy" that'd been his deer rifle.
After I got to be a big boy, huntin' and fishin' was good. I never got
to do any uv it except on Saturdays and Sundays. Everbody had a brush
fence 'round the house to keep the stock in out o' the yard and one day
I seen a big bird sail down on the fence and run under it. Mother was
out in the back yard so I said to myself, I'll get the gun and kill that
hawk. I taken good aim at its head and banged away. At the crack o' the
gun I never heard such a flutterin' in my life. Mother come runnin' to
see what was the matter and when she seen it, she said, Son, that's a
pheasant. Some day you'll be a good hunter. An' guess I was for I killed
lots o' pheasants, quail, squir'ls and rabbits.
Little Sammy Duvall had a pointer he called "Quail". She was the
smartest dog I ever seen, but everybody had smart dogs them days.
Quail'd trail birds when they was runnin' till she got clost and then
circle 'round 'em an' make her stand.
Be careful there, Quail, Mr. Sammy would say. He'd nearly always get
eight or ten out uv a covey an' sometimes the whole covey. I yousta go
along jess to see him shoot. He hardly ever missed. There was so many
quail that nobody ever thought to leave any uv a covey if he wanted that
many an' they didn't get so scattered that he couldn't fin' em.
After the deer was all killed out, people trained their deer hounds to
chase foxes, coons and such like. The white boys from town yousta come
and get Will and young Sammy to go coon huntin'. They al'ays had ten or
twelve dogs. They al'ays taken me along an' treated me jest the same as
if I was as white as they was. If I got behind or out o' sight somebody
was sure to say, 'Where's George'?
One night we treed three coons in a big hollow oak. They started to cut
down the trees an' put me at the butt with a fire bran'. When the tree
fell the coons'd come out an' I was supposed to drive 'em back with the
fire, jest lettin' out one at a time so's the dogs could kill 'em. I was
about half scared uv 'em and when one big feller come out I backed up
an' he got by me. I throwed the fire at him an' it lit on his back an'
burnt' him. I never seen a coon run so fast. But the dogs soon treed him
again an' we got him. Then we come back an' the dogs picked up the trail
uv another one an' we catched him. I never seed a bigger one. He was as
long as this umbrella (3-1/2 ft.) The other one got away. Coon huntin'
was a great sport with the boys an' men in those days.
I catched the only grey eagle that was ever seen 'round here. They was a
bunch of us boys out rabbit huntin' one day one fall. The dogs got after
a rabbit an' chased it across a holler out o' range. I had the only gun
in the crowd an' was right after that rabbit. The dogs run over the
track an' could see 'em over on the hillside jess settin' still. All at
once I seen a big bird--I taken it to be a hawk, fold its wings like a
man'd fold his arms 'round his body, and drop straight down on the
rabbit. But the rabbit saw it too for when the eagle got there he was
ten feet up the hillside. The bird hit, "boom", jest like that. But the
rabbit was goin' over the hill an' the eagle musta saw him for he riz
an' flew in that direction.
'You boys stay back, I'll kill that hawk. That's the biggest hawk I ever
seen,' I told them. When I got to the top of the ridge I seen him
settin' in the top uv a big tree. The boys stayed where I told them and
I slipped along till I got pritty close enough to shoot him. He was
either watchin' the rabbit or didn't think I was watchin' him for I got
pritty close before he started to fly. Jess as he opened his wings I let
him have it with my old muzzle loader shotgun. Down he come makin' as
much noise as a whole flock o' hawks oughta made. He was alive when I
got to him an' made right at me, strikin' with his claws an' bill. The
dogs come when they heard the shot an' he whipped 'em off. Every time he
struck one of 'em he (the dog) would holler like he'd been speared. The
other boys wanted to kill it but I gotta a long pole an' got it on him
so's it held him down. We'd found out by this time that one wing was
broke by my shot. So we jess hold of the tips of his wings an' led him
to the house. His wing spread was 'bout six or eight feet. When I got
him to the house I told 'em I had the biggest hawk they ever seen. A ole
man by the same of William said, "Hell that ain't no hawk, that's a grey
eagle." A ole colored fiddler, named Fred Roberts, sent word he'd buy
it from me. He even got so fraid he wouldn't get it that he come for it.
'What'll you take for him', he asked me, and before I could say anything
he says, 'I'll give a dollar for him'.
That was a lot of money for me an' boy like I sold him then and there. I
coulda got two or maybe three dollars for him. Fred taken him to town
an' fed him live hens and raw meat. On court days or when there was a
crowd in town he showed him for ten cents a look. I bet he made $50.00
on him. People yousta to come for miles to see that eagle. He finally
died.
Fishin' was good too. We cut our poles in the woods an' used to flax
thread for lines. Where people built water-gaps in fences that crossed
the creeks the water'd fill in till it made a dam. Then the creek spread
behind it. Them water holes was full o1 perch an' cat fish. They didn't
get much bigger them your hand but they bit fast and we had lots o' fun
catchin' 'em.
CHRISTIAN CO.
(Mamie Hanberry) [TR: also spelled Hanbery.]
Annie B. Boyd:
Annie B. Boyd, born August 22nd 1851, resides at corner of Liberty and
First Street, Hopkinsville, Kentucky. Born a slave belonging to Charles
Cammack near Gordonsville, Kentucky in Christian County. "My mother and
me war put on de block in front of de Courthouse in Hopkinsville and
sold to Mr. Newt. Catlett and we brung $500.00. Marse Catlett lived on
the corner of Seventh and Clay Streets, Hopkinsville, Kentucky. Wen I
was older the white folks had me foh to nurse dar chilluns. I noes wen
de war broke out marse had a store and den marsa took me to his wife's
kinfolks down in de country till freedom war declared den my stepfather
come an' got me. Of course I hed ter work and den I went ter nurse foh
Dr. Fairleigh and nussed his daughter Madge. De white folks wont good to
me. My marster was a good man but my missus wont no good woman. She
uster box my ears, stick pins in me and tie me ter de cedar chest and
whoop me as long as she wanter. Oh, how I did hate dat woman.
"Yes, once in my life I seed a ghost. We was goin' thru de woods to a
neighbors ter a prayer meeting en a man stepped out in de woad without
no head wid all his clothes on en I had jes wropped my head dat day and
wen I seed him all my hair strings en all jes stood straight up. I got
hot den I'se got cold and he jest stepped ter de side of de road en I
went by running. Yes, we got ter de prayer meeting en den we went back
home de same way en did us niggers run?
"I was nurse in slave time en I carried de chilluns all ober de house en
one day I had de chilluns upstars en my missus called me en I went ter
see whar she wont and while I'se war gone de baby got hodter Indian
Turnip an hed bit it by de time I git back dar en I called my missus en
she come en made me eat de rest of de turnip en my face enall swelled up
en my eyes war closed foh days. After missing de baby en tending ter de
uther chilluns all de day an night wen I put de baby ter bed I bed ter
knit two round ebery night en would be sleepy en my missus would reach
ober en jab a pin in me to keep me awake. Now dat is what I calls a mean
woman.
"I kin read en write at first of freedom I sent ter school some en
learned ter read and write.
"I sho do believe in dreams. I had one once I laid down on de bed ter
take er nap en den I dreamed dat somethin was a chokin me en I pulled at
my dress en a big snake dropped out of my bosom rolled down on de bed.
Den on de floor en when I woke up sho nuff dar war a snake on de floor
by de bed en I killed it en den I knowed dat I had an enemy sho nuff in
a few days a woman I thot was my friend turned gain me. By killing de
snake I knowed dat I would conquer dat enemy.
"I noes wishes cen come tru seems ter me I hev but my memory aint so
good but still I believes hit.
"Wen de smoke flies low hit sho is goin ter snow."
"Spilling salt or ter waste salt is bad luck. I always wen I makes my
bread put de salt in de bread den I puts some of de salt in de fire ter
bring me good luck.
"Sometime de moon affects people wen it changes hit makes some folks
crazy en dey is hard to git alon wid."
"If you plant Irish pertatoes on de light of de moon you hev nuthin but
top. Whatever ter be made underneath de ground like turnips, potatoes,
onions is ter be planted by de dark of de moon. Beans, peas, corn in de
light of de moon.
"Yes, spit will cure, cause I had ringworms once en in de morning wen I
woke up afore I spoke ter anyone I'd take spit en put on my face en hit
sho cured de ringworms."
(Signs)
"If you nail a horse shoe ober de door hits a good luck ter you.
"I thin "13" is an unlucky number I'se heard so much talk of hit till I
believes hit. Breaking a mirror is sho bad luck if you break one you
will hev seben years bad luck."
"Blue gummed niggers is shon bad luck wen I sees one gits as far away as
I kin foh if one bites you you is a ded nigger foh dey is pizen as er
diamond back."
"De white folks jes made niggers carry on like brutes. One white man
uster say ter nuther white man, "My nigger man Sam wanter marry yer
nigger gal Lucy what does yer say en if he said hit war all right why
dat couple war supposed to be married. Den Sam would work foh his
marster in de daytime en den would spend de night at Lucy's house on de
next plantation."
Kate Billingsby:
Kate Billingsby, Ex-slave, according to a record in a Bible the Buckners
gave her when she married was born in 1828. She was owned by Frank and
Sarah Buckner. Born in this County and has spent her life in and around
Hopkinsville. She lives on what is known as the Gates Mill Road about
one half mile east of US 41E and owns her own home.
Aunt Kate as she is generally called is a small black negro and in going
into her home you will find it furnished in lovely antique furniture in
a disreputable state of repair. She met me with a dignity and grace that
would be a credit to any one of the white race to copy, illiterate
though she may be. Her culture and training goes back to the old Buckner
family, at one time one of the most cultured families in Christian
County. She is not a superstitious negro. Being born a Buckner slave,
she was never sold and her manners and ways proclaim that she surely
must have been raised in "De white folks house" as she claims, being a
maid when old enough, to one of Frank Buckner's daughters. She stated,
"Dese Buckners war sho good to me, eben now dey chilluns comes to see me
and always bring me something. Dey don let my taxes lapse am I'se neber
widout somting to eat." My man and I was married by Mr. Alexander at
McClain College. I was de cook an he was the janitor. My man followed
his Massa in de Secess War. If he was a livin' now he would be 110 years
old, he bin ded 'round fifteen year."
No I'se done believe in no ghosts hants or anything of that kind my
white folks being "quality". I'se been raised by "quality"! Why I'se
"quality nigger". "Wen any of my folks git sick or eny of my white folks
de doctor would always bee sent foh." (Her address is: R.R. #2,
Hopkinsville, Ky.)
Nannie Eaves:
Nannie Eaves, age 91, born in McLain County, Ky. being a slave of
William Eaves, never sold, address now R.R. #2, Hopkinsville, Kentucky.
"I guess I was about twenty one years old wen I was freed." I'se was
neber once treated as a slave cause my Massa was my very own Daddy. Ben
Eaves my husband was a slave en chile of George Eaves my Massa's
brother. He ran away from his Massa en his Daddy en jins the U.S. Army
during the Secess War en I'se now drawing a pension from Uncle Sam. I'se
sho glad dat he had sense nuff ter go dis way or I'd be jes like dese
old niggers dat is now on de Government.
"Course I never sweep de trash out de house after sun down jest sweep
hit in de corner of de room cause hit is bad luck ter sweep out de door
after dark. Lawd yes squeech owls en dogs howling under de house shi God
means dar is going ter be a death in de family. Wen I hears one I'se git
trembly all ober, hit makes me hot en den cold both de same time."
"Ho I haint neber seed a ghost or hant but I sho don wanter see one
neither. I'se always fraid I will seed one. Sho de dead can hant you if
war not good to dem wen dey is livin'. Signs en sech things is going out
of style now but Lor wen I was a chile why seems like things war better
cause of dem."
Nannie is a tall bright negro holding herself very straight, with real
white long hair. Her hair is very fine and wavy. Her cabin home was
immaculate, furnished very neatly in the now prevailing style.
Slave Trades: "We had two slave traders in this town. They were Judge
Houston and his son-in-law, Dr. Brady. They gathered up all the slaves
that were unrully or that people wanted to trade and housed them in an
old barn until they had enough to take to New Orleans on a boat. They
traded them down there for work in the cotton fields.
Mary Wright:
Mary Wright, 204 W. Fourth St., Born August 1, 1865.
"I was born at Gracey, Kentucky on Mr. James Colemans far, in a log
cabin wid a dirt floor en a stick chimney.
"Folks uster weat wat dey calls a "Polanaise". Hid wat kinder like a
wrapper made of calico made wid tight in de waist en wide in de bottom.
Den I've remembers de basque waist on de over skirts dese war made real
tight waists wid a point in de back en ober de stomach. De skirt wer
real full dem a skirt ober dis ter de knees wid a big pucker on de
hips."
"My Mammy bound me out to Miss Puss Graham ter learn ter work, foh my
vittals en cloes. Miss Puss gave me a pair of red morocco shoes en I was
made so happy, I'se neber fohgot dese shoes.
"I heard my Mammy talk of "De Nigger Risin". De Klu Klux uster stick de
niggers head on er stake alongside de Cadiz road en dar de buzzards
would eat them till nuthin' was left but de bones. Dar war a sign on dis
stake dat said "Look out Nigger You are next". Us chilluns would not go
far way from dat cabin. I'se tells you dat is so. I jes knowed dat dis
Ku Klux would do dat to us sho if weuns had been catched.