Chapter V: Part 5

"But I don't know nothin' 'bout slavery or the War. I was born and bred in the desert and my mother said it was a long time after freedom 'fore she knowed anything about it. She said there was just lots of the folks said, to their knowin', they had been free three years 'fore they knowed anything about it.

"My husband brought me to Arkansas when I was 35 and I been workin' in the same family, Captain Jeter's family, ever since-forty odd years.

"I always have worked hard. I've had the flu only reason I'm sittin' here now. If I had to sit and hold my hands very long, they'd have to take me to Little Rock.

"I been married twice. My last husband was Sam Shaw. He was a great whiskey man and when whiskey went out, he went to bootleggin' and they got behind him and he left.

"He wrote me once and said if I'd borrow some money on my home and send it to him, he'd come back. I wrote and told him just like I'm tellin' you that after I had worked night and day to pay for this house while he was off tellin' some other woman lies just like he told me, I wasn't goin' to send him money. So I ain't seen him since.

"I ain't never been to school much. When schools got numerous in Mississippi they had me behind a plow handle.

"Mrs. Jeter made me mad once and I quit. My first husband was a porter on the railroad and I got on the train and went to Memphis with him.

"One time he come back from a trip to Pine Bluff and handed me a little package. I opened it and it was a note from Mrs. Jeter and a piece of corn bread. She said, 'Now, Mary, you see what I've had to eat. I want you to come back.' So I went back and stayed 'til she died. And now I'm workin' for her daughter, Mrs. McEwen. Mrs. Jeter used to say, 'Mary, I know you're not a Arkansas woman 'cause you ain't got a lazy bone in your body.'"

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Violet Shaw, West Memphis, Arkansas Age: 50

"I heard Grandma Katie Williams say she was put up on a high stump and auctioned off. She told how great-grandma cried and cried and never seen her no more. Grandma come from Oakland, Tennessee to Mississippi. Grandma took the two young children and left the other two with great-grandma. They took her from her husband. She never seen none of them again.

"After freedom she didn't know how to find them. She never could get trace of them. She tried. She never married no more. I was born at Clarksdale, Mississippi. I have seen Tom Pernell (white), the young master, come and spend the night with Henry Pernell. Henry had once been Tom's father's slave and carriage driver. I was too small to know the cause but I remember that several times mighty well. They fixed him up a clean bed by hisself. Henry lived in town. But he might have been drunk. I never seen no misbehavior out of him. It was strange to me to see that.

"Freedom--Aunt Mariah Jackson was freed at Dublin, Mississippi. She said she was out in the field working. A great big white man come, jumped up on a log and shouted, 'Freedom! Freedom!' They let the log they was toting down; six, three on a side, had holt of a hand stick toting a long heavy log. They was clearing up new ground. He told them they was free. They went to the house. They cooked and et and thanked God. Some got down and prayed, some sung. They had a time that day. They got the banjo and fiddle and set out playing. Some got in the big road just walking. She said they had a time that day."

Texarkana District FOLKLORE SUBJECTS Name of Interviewer: Cecil Copeland Subject: Ex-Slave

This information given by: Frederick Shelton Place of Residence: Dump Section, Texarkana, Arkansas Occupation: None Age: 81 [TR: Information moved from bottom of first page.]

In an humble cabin on the outskirts of the city lives a venerable old negro ex-slave. Although bent with rheumatism and age, he still retains his mental faculties to a remarkable degree.

An inquiry as to his health elicited the following reply: "I'se a willful mind but a weak body. Just like an old tree--de limbs are withered and almost dead. I'se been here a long tins, ovah 81 years, and am ready to go any time de good Lawd says de word. Dat's de trouble wid de people nowadays--dey ain't prepared. Back when I wuz a young man, dey wuzn 't so much meaness, and such goings on as dey are nowadays. De young-peple know as much as de old folks. Yas, suh, de worl' am goin' to de dogs."

Asked about life in pioneer days, the old negro replied; "We had lots ob good times in dem days. Log rollings wuz lots ob fun to me as I wuz strong den, an' I could "show off" befo' de odder niggers. Dey wuzn't much rollin' to it, mostly carrying. I mind de time when I lifted de end ob a log, an' four men tried at different times to lift de odder, but dey couldn't do it. Three of dese men went to an early grave from trying to lift dis log--all tore up inside. Maybe dat's whut ails me.

"You had to be careful den, when traveling through de woods, or de varmints would git you, especially at night. I mind de time when a negro wuz comin' through de woods one nite, when he seed a panther about to spring on him.

"Dis nigger dropped in his tracks lack he wuz dead. De panther came up to him and smelled ob him, but de nigger held his breath, and de panther thought he wuz dead. De panther covered him wid leaves an' went about one hundred yards into de woods to call his friends to de feast. No sooner had he left when de nigger jumped up and climbed a tree, first rutting an old chunk of wood in de place where he wuz buried. De nigger could hear de panther out in de woods as he called for his friends, and pretty soon, here dey come, about five of 'em. Slowly circling aroun' de place where de nigger had been, all of a sudden dey all jumped. Findin' nothin' but de old chunk of wood, dem panthers got real mad. Wid angry growls, dey jumped on de one whut had called dem, and ate him up."

This old negro reserves all of the heroic roles for others. Asked if he had had any experience with the "varmints", as he termed them he said: "Yas, suh. De worst scared I ever got wuz frum a wolf. Walkin' down a trail one day, I spied a wolf not more than ten feet away. Man, I wuz so scared dat I seemed to freeze in my tracks, and couldn't move. I tried to holler but all I could do wuz croak. Den I tried to whistle but de only sound I could make wuz a hiss. After standing for whut seemed hours, wid his ears sticking straight up, de wolf finally turned around and trotted away."

The conversation drifted to other topics, and finally to ghosts and spirits. The old negro said he had never seen a ghost, and didn't believe in those things. No sooner had he said this when his wife, who had been listening in on the conversation from the inside of the door exclaimed: "I does! Seein' is believin' aint it? Well suh, about two years ago de negro dat lived next door died. A few weeks after he died I wuz settin' out on de porch when I see dis negro come out of de house, and walk slowly to de corner of mah yard where he vanished into de air. A few nights later de same thing happened again. No suh, dat nigger didn't go to Heaven and he didn't go to Hell. He's still around heah. He wuz a wicked negro and wuz scared to go."

Circumstances of interview STATE--Arkansas NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas DATE--December, 1938 SUBJECT--Ex-slave [TR: Repetitive information deleted from subsequent pages.]

1. Name and address of informant--Laura Shelton, 1518 Pulaski Street, Little Rock, Arkansas.

2. Date and time of interview interview--

3. Place of interview--1518 Pulaski Street, Little Rock, 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--

Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.--

Personal History of Informant

1. Ancestry--mother, Susan Barnett; father, Ben Bearden; grandfather, Harvey Barnett.

2. Place and date of birth--Arkansas, 1878

3. Family--Three children.

4. Education, with dates--

5. Places lived in with dates--Jerome, Arkansas and Little Rock. No dates.

6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates--Farmed, wash and iron.

7. Special skills and interests--

8. Community and religious activities--Belongs to Baptist Church.

9. Description of informant--

10. Other points gained in interview--

Text of Interview (Unedited)

"My mother used to sit down and talk to us and tell us about slavery. If she had died when I was young I wouldn't have known much. But by her living till I was old, I learned a lot.

"My mother's old master was Tom Barnett, so she said. No, not 'so she said' because I have seed him. He give her her age and all at that time. I have it in my Bible. He said that she was twelve years old the Christmas before the surrender. The surrender was in May, wasn't it?

"My mother's name was Susan Bearden. She married Ben Bearden. She worked in Tom Barnett's house. She milked and churned and 'tended to the children and all such as that. He never allowed her to go to the field. Neither her mother, my grandmother. She was the cook. My mother's name before she married was Susan Barnett.

"An old colored lady that they had there seed after the colored children. She looked after my mother too. She was so old she couldn't do nothin' so they had her to look after the children. My grandmother was kept busy because she had the white folks to cook for and she had all the colored folks to cook for too.

"There is an old lady down on Spring Street that can give you a lot of information about slavery times.

"A boy was telling her that somebody was going 'round asking questions about slavery and she said she wished he would come and see her.

"My mother never had any chance to go to school before freedom and she never had any chance to go afterwards because she didn't have any money. When they turned them loose the white folks didn't give 'em anything, so they had to work. They didn't allow them to pick up a piece of paper in slave time for fear they would learn.

"My mother remembered the pateroles. She said they used to catch and whip the colored men and women when they would get out.

"My mother's old master was the one that told mama she was free. He told her she was free as he was. After they learned that they were free, they stayed on till Christmas.

"After Christmas, they went to another plantation. My gran'pa, he come and got them all to come. My gran'pa's name was Harvey Barnett. His old master's son had married and he had been staying with him. That made him be on another place. There was a good many of the children in my grandmother's family. Mama had a sister named Lucy, one named Lethe, one named Caroline, one named Annie, and one named Jane. She had two boys--one named Jack, and one named Barnett. She had another sister named--I don't remember her name.

"After freedom, we sharecropped for a number of years up until my father died. He died about twenty-four years ago.

"After that mama washed and ironed for about ten or twelve years. Then she got too old to work and we took care of her. My mother died last March on the ninth day. She always had good health for an old lady. Never got so she couldn't get up and do her light work such as dress herself, cooking, sweeping, and so on. She would even do her own washing and ironing if we would let her. She would hide from us and pick cotton till we stopped her.

"She was sick only one week and the doctor said she died of old age. He said it was just her time. She didn't have nothin' the matter with her but jus' old age he said so far as he could find. Dr. Fletcher was our doctor. She died in Jerome, Arkansas about sixteen miles from the Louisiana line. Leastwise, they tell me it's about sixteen miles from the line. She always told us that she had her business fixed with the Lord and that when she taken sick, It wouldn't be long. And sure 'nough, it wasn't.

"I farmed until my mother and brother died. Then I came up here with my sister as I had no children living. I jus' wash and iron now whenever I can get somethin' to do.

"I have been married once. I had three children. All of them are dead. My children are dead and my husband is dead.

"I belong to the Baptist church down on Spring Street. I always unite with the church whenever I go to a place. I don't care whether I stay there or not.

"My mama's master was good as far as white folks generally be in slavery times. He never whipped my grandmother nor my mother. He was good to the field hands too. He never whipped them. He would feed them too. He had right smart of field hands but I don't know just how many. I don't think he ever sold any of his slaves. I think he come by them from his father because I have heard them say that his father told him before he died never to 'part with Black Mammy. That was what he called her. And he kept them altogether jus' like his father told him to. His father said, 'I you to keep all my Negroes together and Black Mammy I don't want you let her be whipped because she nursed all of you.' She said she never was whipped 'cept once when she got a cockle berry up her nose and he got it out and gave her a little brushing--not as much as grandma would have given her.

"He kept them all in good shoes and warm clothes and give them plenty to eat. So many of the slaves on other plantations didn't have half enough to eat and were half naked and barefooted all the time."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Mahalia Shores, Marianna, Arkansas Age: 77

"I was born in Greene County, Georgia. My owner was Jim Jackson. He bought my mother's father. She was raised on Jim Jackson's place. I rec'collect a right smart about slavery times. He made us dress up and let the nigger traders see what little niggers I got. We thought it was nice. What fine limbs we had. Aunt Judy--some called her 'big mamma'--lived down under the hill. She was old and seen after the children. The biggest children took care and nursed the little ones. On Wednesday and Saturday the cook made ginger cakes for the little children. The house girl called us. She was Aunt Teena's girl. Aunt Teena was a housemaid. See little niggers coming from every direction to get our cakes.

"Jim Jackson's wife was named Mariah. They lived in a big fine white house. When it was freedom a soldier come, brought a paper and Massa Jim was settin' on the porch. Tom Chapman was his overseer. They rung the big farm bell and had the oldest niggers stand in a line and us little ones in front so we could all see. Tom Chapman read the paper and stood by the soldier. He had two big plantations. Massa Jim got sick that day and vomited and vomited. He lived a week or two weeks. They sent for Dr. Ducham but he couldn't do him no good. He died. Massa Jim told them they could take the teams and go to town, all he ax of 'em was to feed and take care of 'em. Every one of the grown folks went and left us at home. Aunt Judy seen 'bout us like she been doing all the time. They went over to Greensboro to celebrate. They all come back. They was all ready fer their breakfastes. It was twelve miles from Greensboro. Then the next day Massa Jim or Tom Chapman, one called the grown folks to the house and told them, 'You can stay and I will pay you or you can go. I pay no more doctor bills. I don't feed you no more nor give you no more clothes.' Some moved and some hired to him. Some went to his father-in-law's place and some to his brothers' place and around. His wife was rich. She was Dave Butler's gal. No, I mean Massa Jim's wife--Miss Mariah. That big place was what her pa give her. Massa Jim had five hundred little niggers on that place and lots more on the big plantation. He had about two thousand little niggers. We went in droves is right.

"I never went to a table in slavery time. We had our plates and cup and took it to the pot and they put some victuals in 'em, then we went and et where we pleased. We had all the meat we could eat and all the milk we could drink all the time. Aunt Teena sewed and grandma would weave cloth. They made white aprons. My hair was nice and old mistress would tell Aunt Judy to curl my hair. They rolled it up on cloth and on little light cobs. If they wet it, it would stay curled.

"Massa Jim sold his niggers when he wanted to. He sold my grandpa and Uncle Steve. Grandma wanted him to sell her and he wouldn't do it. I don't know what become of grandpa. After freedom Uncle Steve come back to us all. Grandpa was crying. He come to our house and said he had to go. We never seen him no more.

"Some of the slaves wouldn't be whooped by Tom Chapman. I heard them say since I got grown he 'tacked 'em. It caused trouble. He couldn't whoop 'em then. Old master whooped some of 'em. Some would say, 'I take ten licks offen you and that is all.' Then he would sell them the first chance. They would go to the woods if he beat them too much. He didn't abuse his niggers. He said his niggers was his property. Aunt Sarah tended to the cows and Aunt Clarisa raised geese, turkeys, chickens, ducks, and churned.

"The Ku Klux come to our house, called Uncle Billy--that was my papa. They got him up out of bed. One man said, 'I ain't had no water since the battle of Shiloah.' He had pa draw water till daybreaking. He had a horn he poured the water in. We was all scared half to death. Next morning there was a branch from the well done run off. Something took place about a well. Uncle Neel Anderson and Uncle Cush dug wells for their living. They come after them. Aunt Mandy had a baby. They pitied her and Uncle Neel got so scared he run upstairs in his shirt tail and stuck his head in the cotton. They found him that way. Uncle Cush said, 'Come on, Neel, and go with me.' They whooped Uncle Cush in his shirt tail. If you didn't open the door they would break it in.

"I worked in the field in Georgia and Arkansas both. I cooked since I was twelve years old. I married when I was twenty years old. I cooked here in Marianna eighteen years and I have cooked three Sunday dinners on Saturday and Sunday together. I would make three dollars when I done that. I had five children and I raised one boy. I washed and ironed. I get some help from the Welfare but I saved and my good old man saved so we would have plenty when we got old. Folks burnt up two of my houses. I got three more not fitten to live in till they are covered. I got good property in Stuttgart but couldn't pay the tax on it and 'bout to loose it. I tried to get a loan and never could. We niggers have a hard time."

Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden Person interviewed: Rosa Simmons 823 West 13th Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas Age: 85?

"Yes mam, I was here during that Civil War. I was fifteen years old then. I was born In Tennessee.

"My boss man carried all the best hands to Texas and carried the scrub hands across Cypress Creek here in Arkansas, and that's where I come. I was fifteen when the Yankees come in on my boss man's place, so you know now I ain't no baby. I thank God that He left me here to get old.

"Before the war. I nussed two babies--my mistress' baby and her sister's baby. Yes'm we had a good master and mistress. We didn't suffer for nothin' and we didn't have no overseer over us. Colonel Maples was my master. No'm he wasn't no soldier--that was the name his mother give him.

"When my folks first come to Arkansas we lived in a cabin that just had a balin' sack hangin' in the door and one night a bear come in and my brother and I broke a board off the side and fell right out in the cane. We all hollered so some folks come down and shot the bear. I ain't never seed a bear before and I didn't know what it was.

"I 'member when the Yankees come to my boss man's place. They wanted to shake hands but he was scared to death and wouldn't do it. Another time the Yankees captured him and kept him three months. They took his horse and he finally come home on a mule that didn't have but three legs. I guess the Yankees give him the mule. He turned the old mule loose and said he never wanted to see another Yankee. If he saw any kind of a white man comin' down the road he run in the house and hid between the feather bed and the mattress.

"One time the Yankees come and drunk the sweet milk and took all the butter, turkeys and hogs and then broke the powder horn against the maple tree.

"The cook say 'I'm gwine tell Marse Joe you drink all this milk.' The Yankees say, 'Let the damn fool alone--here we are tryin' to free her and she ain't got no sense.' They said there wouldn't be any more hard times after the war.

"But I sure have seen some hard times. I have washed and cooked and done 'bout everything.

"When I get up in the morning I got the limburger (lumbago) in my back so I ain't able to do much. Sometimes I have something to eat and sometimes I don't."

Mrs. Carol Graham Mrs. Mildred Thompson El Dorado District

Fannie Sims. Customs.

"How ole is ah? Ise about 78. Yes'm ah wuz live durin de wah. Mah ole moster wuz Mistuh Jake Dumas we lived near de Ouachita rivuh bout five miles fum El Dorado landin. Ah membush dat we washed at de spring way, way fum de house. What dat yo say? Does ah know Ca'line. Ca'line, lawsy, me yes. Ca'line Washington we use tuh call huh, she wuz one uv Mr. Dumas niggers. We washed fuh de soldiers. Had tuh carry day clo'es tuh dem aftuh dark. Me an Ca'line had tuh carry dem. We had tuh hide de horse tuh keep de soldiers fum gittin him. When we would take de horse tuh de plum orchard we would stay dah all day to dark wid "Blackie". Dat wuz de horse's name. Mah job mostly wuz tuh watch de chillun an feed mah mistress chickens.

"Ah kin recollect when dey took us an started tuh Texas an got as fur as El Dorado and found out dat us niggers wuz free. We went back an grandma's mistress's son took us home wid him fuh stretches and stretches. We lived on de ole Camden road.

"In mah days ah've done plenty uv work but ah don' do nothing now but piece quilts. Dat's whut ah've been doing fuh mah white fokes since ah been heah. Ah jes finished piecing and quiltin two uv em. De Glove[TR:?] and de Begger. Mah husban' been dead 31 years dis pas' August. No, ah counts is by dose twins ah raised. One uv em lives in dis heah place right heah. Ah aint much count now. Sometime mah laig gets so big ah jes had tuh sloop mah foot erlong."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Jerry Sims (Indian and Negro) Brinkley, Arkansas Age: Born 1859

"I was born in 1859 close to Natchez, Mississippi. Chief Sims was my grandpa. He was Indian, full blood. His wife was a Choctaw Indian. Grandpa was a small red Indian. They kept my pa hid out with stock nearly all time of the Civil War. Both my mas' parents was nearly all Indian too but they was mixed. I'm more Indian than anything else. I heard pa talk about staying in the cane brakes. Mighty few cane brakes to be found now. I come with my grandpa and grandma to Arkansas when I was five years old.

"My ma belong to Quill and Sely Whitaker. I et and slept with Hattie and Bud and Rob Whitaker. Quill Whitaker was a Union surgeon in the Civil War.

"I don't think any of my folks was ever sold. They was of a porer class and had to have a living and sorter become slaves for a living. I never heard ma say how she got in bondage. Pa stayed with John Rob bout like a slave.

"I am a farmer. I am not on the PWA. Times for me is hard. You see some has so much and others hardly can live atall.

"It is not for me to say about the young generation. I have mighty little to do with any of them.

"I have voted but not lately. I never did understand voting."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Victoria Sims, Helena, Arkansas Age: 76

"I was born in Limestone County, Alabama. It was on a river. Where I was born they called it Elks Mouth. Our owners was Frank Martin and Liza Martin. They raised papa. Their daughter aired (heired) him. Her name was Miss (Mrs.) Betty Hansey. Papa's name was Ed Martin. I stood on a stool and churned for papa's young mistress. The churn was tall as I was. I loved milk so good and they had plenty of it--all kinds. Soon as ever I get through, they take up the butter. I'd set 'round till they got it worked up so I could get a piece of bread and fresh butter and a big cup of that fresh milk. They always fixed it for me.

"Mama was Minthy Martin. She cooked on another place. She was a nurse. Her papa belong to one person and her mother to somebody else. Mama was Minthy Bridgeforth but I don't have her owner's name. I guess she was sold. I heard her say the Bridgeforth's was good to her. Some white man whooped on her once. I never heard her say much about it. Papa's owners was good to him. They was crazy about him. I knowed papa's owners the best and I lived there heap the most. I was born a slave but I don't know who I belong to. I've studied that over myself. I used to go back to see papa's owners. They owned lots of slaves and lots of land. Papa done a lot of different things. He fed and farmed and cleaned off the yards and slopped the pigs. He done what they said do, well as I can recollect. I wasn't with mama till after freedom. Mama said her white folks was treated mighty mean during the War. Once the soldiers come and mama was so scared she took the baby and run got in the cellar. They throwed out everything they had to eat. They took off barrels of things to eat and left them on starvation. One soldier come one time and wanted mama to go to the camps. She was scared not to go, scared he'd shoot her down. She told him she'd go the next day soon as she could get up her things and tell her folks she had gone. He agreed to that. Soon as he left she and some other young women on the place put out to the cane brakes and caves. She said they nearly starved. The white folks sent them baskets of victuals several times. Mama said she had some pretty beads she wore. Somebody had made her a present of them. She loved 'em. I think she said they was red. Mama's mistress told her to hide her beads, the soldiers would take them. She hid them up in the loft of their house on a nail. One day a gang come scouting and they rummaged the whole house and place. When the soldiers left she thought about her beads and went to see and they was gone. She cried and cried about them. That was before she went to the canebrakes.

"When freedom come on, the owners told them they was free. They didn't leave and then they made a way for them to stay on. They stayed on.

"I was grown when we come to this state but we lived in Tennessee a few years. Mama had had nine children by that time. All was dead, but us two girls and my brother. We come to Arkansas with our parents. We heard the land was new and rich. I wasn't married then.

"I've worked hard in the field all my life till last year or so. I still do work.

"Times is tough here I tell you. I get a little help, six dollars.

"Some of the young folks won't work, some not able to work. If anybody saving a thing I don't hear about it."

Interviewer: Bernice Bowden Person interviewed: Virginia Sims 1121 N. Magnolia Pine Bluff, Ark. Age: 93 Occupation: Retired Midwife

"I was born in 1844. I was twenty when peace was declared. I was born in Virginia. Yes ma'am, but I was sold, put up on a stump just like you sell hogs to the highest speculator. I was sold with my mother from a man named Joe Poindexter and bought by Tom Murphy and brought to Arkansas. My God, every Murphy round here knows me. Yes'm, my mother and me was sold. Papa wasn't sold, but he come here the second year after surrender.

"I was old enough to spin twelve cuts a day--had it to do. And I could weave cloth just like they do now.

"Had seven brothers and I'm the onliest girl.

"I can recollect when Miss Mary Poindexter died. They said I was two.

"My mistis in Arkansas was Mrs. Susan Murphy. That was out on the plantation, we didn't live in no city--my God, no!

"The way my people acts now, they looks foolish. I never heard a person curse till I come up here. I was a grown young lady nineteen years old when our master lowed us to get out and cote. You better not. The first husband I married I was nineteen goin' on twenty. My husband fought on the Southern side. His master sent him as a substitute.

"My master put good clothes on me, I'd say. 'Master. I wants a dress like so and so, and I wants a pair of shoes.' Yes ma'am, and he got em for me. I was forty-three and married to a nigger fore I knowed what twas to cry for underwear.

"I member they was a white man called Dunk Hill and he said, 'Virginia, who freed the niggers?' I said, 'God freed the niggers.' He said, 'Now, Virginia, you goin' be just as free as I am some day!'

"General Shelby's troops was comin' on this side the ribber. That's one time I was scared. Never seed so many men in my life. They wanted something to eat. Mama cooked all night. They was nine hundred and somethin'. I toted canteens all night long.

"I member when they had that Marks Mill battle. My husband was there and he sent word for me to come cause he had the measles and they had went in on him. I had to put on boots and wade mud. Young folks now ain't got no sense. I see so many folks now with such dull understanding. Marks Mill was the onliest part of the war I was in.

"General Shelby and Captain Blank, they whetted their swords together when peace was declared. Captain said, 'General, I'm not crazy and neither am I a coward. I looked up and seem like a man was comin' out the clouds, and so I'm goin' to surrender.'

"Them cavalry men--they'd say, 'Ride!' and how they'd go.

"I seen em when they was enlistin'. Said they was goin' to whip the Yankees and be back for breakfast in the morning.

"Marse Ben was goin' and Miss Susan say, 'Virginia, if you think he ain't goin' come back you ought to kiss him goodbye.' I said, 'I ain't goin' to kiss no white man.'

"Miss Fanny went up the ladder and sot rite on the roof and watched the soldiers goin' by. Yes'm. Old master whipped me with a little peach stick cause I let Frankie--we called her Frankie--go up the ladder. I said I couldn't stop her cause she said if I told her papa, she and Becky goin' to whip me. He whipped Miss Fanny. Old miss come in and say, 'Ain't you goin' whip this nigger?' She was mean as the devil. Oh, God, yes. She so mean she didn't know what to do. But old master kep her down. You know some of these redheaded women, they just as devilish as they can be. We had some neighbors, Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Daniels and old miss would be out there on the lawn quarrelin' till it was just like a fog. Us niggers would be out there listenin'.

"But I was always treated good. You know if I had been beat over the head I couldn't recollect things now. My head ain't been cracked up. Nother thing. I always been easy controlled.

"I never went to school a day. After we was freed we stayed right on the Murphy place. They paid us and we worked on the shares. That's the reason I say I done better when I was a slave."

Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden Person interviewed: Senya Singfield 1613 W. Second Avenue, Pine Bluff, Arkansas Age: 74

"I was born in Washington, Virginia right at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. My mother was sold when I was a babe in her arms. She was sold three times. I know one time when she had four children she was sold and one of my brothers was sold away unbeknownst to her. Her old master sold her away from her mistress. She was a cook and never was mistreated.

"I ain't never been to school. When I got big enough, my mother was a widow and I had to start out and make a living. I've always been a cook. Used to keep a boarding house, up until late years. I've washed and ironed, sewed a right smart and quilted quilts. I've done anything I could to turn an honest living. Oh I've been through it but I'm still here. I've been a widow over forty years.

"I think the folks nowdays are about run out. They are goin' too fast. When I was comin' up, I had to have some manners. My mother didn't low me to 'spute nobody."

Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor Person interviewed: Peggy Sloan 2450 Howard Street, Little Rock, Arkansas Age: About 80, or more Occupation: Farming

"I was born in Arkansas in Tulip, in Dallas County I think it is, isn't it?

"Charlotte Evans was mother's name and my father's name was Lige Evans. Gran'daddy David was my mother's father, and Cheyney was my mother's mother.

"Mr. Johnnie Sumner was the name of my young master, and the old man was Mr. Judge Sumner. The old people are all dead now. Mr. Judge Sumner was Johnnie Sumner's father. Me and Mr. Johnnie suckled together. Mr. Johnnie came to Fordyce they say looking for the old slaves. I didn't know about it then. I never would know him now. That is been so long ago. I sure would like to see 'im.

"My mother ain't told me much about herself in slave times. She was a nurse. She lived in a log cabin. You know they had cabins for all of them. The colored lived in log houses. The white people had good houses. Them houses was warmer than these what they got now.

"My grandma could cut a man's frock-tail coat. These young people don't know nothin' 'bout that. Grandma was a milliner. She could make anything you used a needle to make.

"Lige Evans was the name my father took after the surrender. He wasn't named that before the surrender--in the olden times. My mother had fifteen children. She was the largest woman you ever seen. She weighed four hundred pound. She was young Master Johnnie's nurse. Mr. Johnnie said he wanted to come and see me. I heard he lives way on the other side of Argenta somewheres.

"I was my mama's seventh girl, and I got a seventh girl living. I had fifteen children. My mother's children were all born before the surrender.

"Mr. Judge Sumner and his son were both good men. They never whipped their slaves.

"They didn't feed like they do now. I et corn bread then, and I eat it now. Some people say they don't. They would give them biscuits on Sundays. They had a cook to cook for the hands. She got all their meals for them.

"They had a woman to look after the little colored children, and they had one to look after the white children. My mother was a nurse for the white children. My mother didn't have nothing to do with the colored children.

"I didn't never have no trouble with the pateroles. Sometimes they would come down the lane running the horses. When I would hear them, I would run and git under the bed. I was the scaredest soul you ever seen. I think that's about all I can remember.

"I was the mother of fifteen children. I had one set of twins, a boy and a girl. The doctor told me you never raise a boy and a girl twin. My boy is dead. All of my children are dead but two.

"I was raised on the farm. I want a few acres of ground now so bad.

"I never was married but once. My husband's name was David Sloan. I don't know exactly how long he and me were married. It was way over twenty years. My license got burnt up.

"You know I couldn't be nothin' but a Christian."

Interviewer's Comment

Peggy Sloan's memory is going. She is not certain of the number of children her mother had although she knows there were more than seven because she was the seventh.

She remembers nothing about her age, but she knows definitely that all of her mother's children were born before the War--that is before the end of the War. Since the War ended seventy-three years ago and she was the seventh child with possibly seven behind her, I feel that she could not be younger than eighty. She remembers definitely running at the approach of men she calls pateroles during "slavery time."

Her mind may be fading, but it is a long way from gone. She questioned me closely about my reason for getting statements from her. She had to be definitely satisfied before the story could be gotten.

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Arzella Smallwood Hazen R.F.D., Green Grove, Arkansas Age: 60 Doesn't know exact age

"I was born about eight miles from Williston, South Carolina. After freedom my mother married Lee Ballinger and she had six children. He died when I was real small. My mother was named Hester McCrary. Old Master McCrary bought grandma and my mother in Virginia. One sister my mother never did run across after freedom. She was older and sold to other people. I think at freedom my mother left and I think grandma did too. My grandpa was half Indian, but I never did see him to remember what he looked like. Our young master is a doctor. He waited on my mother before she died. Grandma was blind and she lived with us. Our young master may still be living. Old mistress was named Sylvania and she sent for my mother to come wait on her when she got sick to die. I think they had pretty fair treatment there. My mother was to be a house girl and cook. I think grandma was a cook and field woman both.

"I heard them say the white folks took them to church to learn to pray, then they didn't allow them to pray for freedom. But I don't think they wanted freedom. After they was set free they died up so scand'lous. Grandma said they had to work harder. My mother brought a good price because she was real light color and sharp to learn. She had six children and we was all darker than she was a whole lots. She and grandma was both good on giving advice. Seem like they could see how things would turn out every time.

"I married a man with a roving nature. We come here. He left me, come back for me to look after before he died. I married again. I left him. He told me how I could do five washings a week and take care of us both. I didn't aim to do it. I mighter got some washings but I didn't aim to keep him.

"I get a little commodities along to help out. I'm picking berries now twenty-five cents a gallon for the first picking. Fifteen and twenty cents is the regular prices.

"I haven't got children and I don't know what they ought to do. I reckon they do the best they can.

"Times is hard on me. It takes me all the time to make a living."

Pine Bluff District FOLKLORE SUBJECTS Name of Interviewer: Martin & Barker Subject: Negro Customs

This information given by: Sarah Smiley (Colored) Place of Residence: Humphrey, Arkansas Age: 76 [TR: Information moved from bottom of first page.]

I was born the 10th of May, 1860. My home was in Charleston, S.C. I was not a slave, but my parents were.

My mother was a seamstress and my father, Edward Barnewill, was butler for their white folks.

I looks the door at sundown, and me and God are all by ourselves, and I am not afraid.

I came to Sherrill when I was a schoolgirl, and married when I was 14. Lived here after I was married. Taught school before I was married.

Had seven children by my first husband. My three husbands were Ike Williams, Eli Treadvan, and Calvin Smiley.

When asked about her books standing on her shelves--namely Golden Gems, arithmetic, and the Bible, also a blue back speller--said she just loved her books.

Young folks of today don't love like they did in the olden days. Now it is hot love, minute love, free love.

When my first child was born, I begged the midwife not to cut me open to get the baby out. The midwife told me the same place it went in the same place it will come out.

When my breasts began to grow (adolescence) I didn't want those bumps on me, and tied them down with wide rags.

Cures--I uses gasoline and cedar, soak it and rub on affected places for rheumatism.

I believe that you must not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.

Heaven is a place of rest. If we are faithful to God, you can ride death home.

Hell is below--also here on earth.

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Andrew Smith R.F.D., Forrest City, Arkansas Age: 73

"I was born after the surrender at Oxford, Mississippi. We belong to Master Jim Smith. Mother cooked and father worked in the field. He was on a average being good. They didn't trouble my mother as I recollect hearing 'em say but they whooped them in the field. Pattyrollers chased papa in sometimes. I heard him talk about it but I couldn't tell what he said now. Mama had two before freedom, then she married and had three children. He died. She married the second time and had two more children. That made seben in all.

"She said her first marriage was pronounced (announced). My mother said their master refugeed them to Texas till the year of the surrender. They didn't know nothing 'bout freedom till a while after they got back from Texas. They stayed on that year and longer too not knowing 'bout freedom. My rickerliction is short.

"Frank Houston was a neighbor of our'n. He lived on my folks' joining plantation close to Houston, Mississippi during slavery. During or before the War come on he put his money in a barrel--hogshead. They said it was gold and silver. I don't know. It might some been paper. He rolled the barrel down to the river. It was the Tallahassee (?) River eighteen miles northeast of Oxford, Mississippi. He hid his barrel of money in the river. They hunted and hunted it and never could find it. It might sunk in the mud and quick sand. Somebody might er hauled it out and stole it. The whole neighborhood hope him hunt it. They never did find it. I seen the old man and Jim Smith heaps of times.

"I voted in Mississippi. I couldn't read. They had a big fight in the country at Midway Church where we all voted. It was out a ways from Oxford, Mississippi. I never voted in Arkansas. I pay poll tax. Never 'lowed to vote.

"I never went to school a day in my life.

"I come to Forrest City fifty-four years ago. Married here. Never had a child. Now my wife dead. I farmed all my life. I bought a farm but they never let me have it. I never got it all paid out. They took it.

"I get Welfare help. I does some work. I'm nearly past hard work now."

Circumstances of Interview STATE--Arkansas NAME OF WORKER--Carol N. Graham ADDRESS--Rear 456 West Main Street, El Dorado, Arkansas DATE--November 1, 1938 SUBJECT--Ex-slaves [TR: Repetitive information deleted from subsequent pages.]

1. Name and address of informant--Caroline Smith, Route 1, El Dorado. (Lives with Negroes by name of Green about 1 mile from Smith's Crossing)

2. Date and time of interview--November 1, 1938, Tuesday morning, 9:30-10:30

3. Place of interview--at the home of some Negroes named Green.

4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in touch with informant--Had previously talked with Caroline.

5. Name and address of person, if any, accompanying you--Mrs. Ethel Depriest, 516 East Miles Street, El Dorado.

6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.--a typical Negro farm house.

Personal History of Informant

1. Ancestry--

2. Place and date of birth--Camden, Arkansas? No date.

3. Family--one child.

4. Places lived in, with dates--Camden and El Dorado. No dates.

5. Education, with dates--

6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates--None

7. Special skills and interests--

8. Community and religious activities--

9. Description of informant--

10. Other points gained in interview--This slave old enough to remember Civil War.

Text of Interview (Unedited)

"I first remembers living on the plantation of Mr. Jake Dumas near El Dorado Landing. You know it's Calion now. We lived up towards Camden and it was there that my ma and pa was married and buried. I was a big girl durin' the war. My job was to card and spin. And I use to carry the children to school. When I would get to the school I would put the children off, git straddle and ride that horse home. When I would get there old mos would say Ca'line did you run him? I'd say naw sir. Then he'd say, 'Oh, Carryline put the horse in the lot and come out here. I'd say, 'Master I didn't run that horse' but didn't do no good. He sure would whip me. I'd get down and roll. I would stomp and he would do the same. I wondered how he could tell I'd run that horse. But course he could cause that horse had the thumps (heart beating rapidly).

"I remember seeing the soldiers come through during the war. They come by droves stealing horses, setting the cotton on fire and taking sumpin to eat, too.

"Yes, I does still member the songs we sung durin' the war but I've got the asthmy and ain't got much wind fur singin'.

"You want to know the reason,
You want to know the reason,
You want to know the reason, I'll tell you why,
We'll whip them Yankees, whole hog or die."

"Hooray, Hooray, Hooray for the Southern Girl.
Hooray for the homespun dress the Southern ladies wear.
My homespun dress is plain I know,
I glory in its name;
Hooray for the homespun dress the Southern ladies wear."

"I've got the asthmy honey and jest caint sing no more.

"You asked 'bout my husband and chillun. I been married fo' times. My first man's name was Dick Hagler, the next Frank Bibby, the next Henry Harris and the last one was Tom Smith. That's where I get my name Ca'line Smith. I never did have but one daughter but she had sixteen chillun. She's daid now and mah granchillun is scattered.

"I got the asthmy an jes don' feel like talkin' no more. Long time ago when I was sick master always had a doctor to me now I have to hire one. And they always fed me good and clothed me but after I was free I would go round and work around to git a little sumpin to eat."

Interviewer: Thomas Elmore Lucy Person interviewed: Caroline Smith, Russellville, Arkansas Age: 83

"Ca'line Smith's my name and dey calls me 'Aunt Ca'line.' I was born about de year 1855 as I was about dis high (measuring) when de War broke out. I remembers de boys marching away in their grey uniforms just as plain. We chillen would watch dem as dey went away; we could see em as we peeped through de winders and de cracks in de walls.

"I was born in Mississippi close to Columbus on de plantation of my master, John Duncan. And he was a purty strict old master, sure, but sometimes he was kind to us. When we was set free he let us all go wherever we wanted to, but didn't pay us nothin'.

"All de slaves that I remembers stayed on around in different parts of Mississippi after de War and engaged in farmin', and workin' on roads and streets, and other public work. About forty years ago I come to Pope County, Arkansas wid my parents and has lived here ever' since.

"I don't remember nothin' about de Klu Klux Klan or if our folks was ever bothered wid em.

"Yes suh, I keeps workin' every day and likes to keep up my sewin'. Plenty of it to do all de time--jest like I'm doin' today. My health is purty good ceptin' I has a sort of misery in my side.

"I draws a pension of $7.50 a month, but I dunno who sends it.

"I belongs to de Adventist Church, and I sure believes in always tellin' de trufe and nofin' but de trufe; we better tell de trufe here, for some of dese days we all gwine where nofin' but de trufe will be accepted.

"No suh, I ain't never took any interest in politics and ain't never voted.

"Dese young'uns today is simply too much for me; I can't understand em, and I dunno which way dey headed. Some few of em seems to have sound common sense, but--well, I just refuse to talk about em."

Interviewer: Pernella Anderson Person Interviewed: Edmond Smith D Avenue El Dorado, Ark. Age: ?