Chapter IV: Part 4

"They waren't no church for niggers on our plantation and we went to white folkses church and listened to the white preachers. We set behind a partition. Sometimes on a plantation a nigger claim he done been called to preach and effen he kin git his marster's cawn-sent he kin preach round under trees and in cabins when t'aint wuk time. These nigger preachers in slavery time was called 'chairbackers.' They waren't no chairbackers 'lowed to baptize none of Marster's niggers. White preachers done our baptizin' in Long Crick. When we went to be baptized they allus sang, 'Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound!'"

The old negro's quavery voice rose in the familiar song. For a moment he sat thinking of those long-ago Sundays. His eyes brightened again, and he went on:

"We never done no wuk on Sundays on our plantation. The church was 'bout nine miles from the plantation and we all walked there. Anybody too old and feeble to walk the nine miles jus' stayed home, kazen Marster didn't 'low his mules used none on Sunday. All along the way niggers from other plantations 'ud jine us and sometimes befo' we git to the church house they'd be forty or fifty slaves comin' along the road in a crowd! Preaching generally lasted twel bout three o'clock. In summertime we had dinner on the ground at the church. Howsomever we didn' have no barbecue like they does now. Everybody cooked enough on Sadday and fotched it in baskets.

"I was thirty years old when I jined the church. Nobody ought to jine no church twels't he is truly borned of God, and effen he is truly borned of God he gwine know it. Effen you want a restin' place atter you leaves this old world you ought to git ready for it now!

"When folkses on our plantation died Marster allus let many of us as wanted to go, lay offen wuk twel atter the buryin'. Sometimes it were two or three months atter the buryin' befo' the funeral sermon was preached. Right now I can't rekelleck no song we sung at funerals cep'n 'Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.'"

The reedy old voice carried the funeral hymn for a few minutes and then trailed off. James was thinking back into the past again.

"Spring plowin' and hoein' times we wukked all day Saddays, but mos'en generally we laid off wuk at twelve o'clock Sadday. That was dinnertime. Sadday nights we played and danced. Sometimes in the cabins, sometimes in the yards. Effen we didn' have a big stack of fat kindling wood lit up to dance by, sometimes the mens and 'omans would carry torches of kindling wood whils't they danced and it sho' was a sight to see! We danced the 'Turkey Trot' and 'Buzzard Lope', and how we did love to dance the 'Mary Jane!' We would git in a ring and when the music started we would begin wukkin' our footses while we sang 'You steal my true love and I steal your'n!'

"Atter supper we used to gether round and knock tin buckets and pans, we beat 'em like drums. Some used they fingers and some used sticks for to make the drum sounds and somebody allus blowed on quills. Quills was a row of whistles made outen reeds, or sometimes they made 'em outen bark. Every whistle in the row was a different tone and you could play any kind of tune you wants effen you had a good row of quills. They sho' did sound sweet!

"'Bout the most fun we had was at corn shuckin's whar they put the corn in long piles and called in the folkses from the plantations nigh round to shuck it. Sometimes four or five hunnert head of niggers 'ud be shuckin' corn at one time. When the corn all done been shucked they'd drink the likker the marsters give 'em and then frolic and dance from sundown to sunup. We started shuckin' corn 'bout dinnertime and tried to finish by sundown so we could have the whole night for frolic. Some years we 'ud go to ten or twelve corn shuckin's in one year!

"We would sing and pray Easter Sunday and on Easter Monday we frolicked and danced all day long! Christmas we allus had plenty good sumpin' to eat and we all got togedder and had lots of fun. We runned up to the big 'ouse early Christmas mornin' and holler out: 'Mornin', Christmas Gif'!' Then they'd give us plenty of Sandy Claus and we would go back to our cabins to have fun twel New Year's day. We knowed Christmas was over and gone when New Year's day come, kazen we got back to wuk that day atter frolickin' all Christmas week.

"We didn' know nuttin' 'bout games to play. We played with the white folkses chilluns and watched atter 'em but most of the time we played in the crick what runned through the pastur'. Nigger chilluns was allus skeered to go in the woods atter dark. Folkses done told us Raw-Head-and-Bloody Bones lived in the woods and git little chilluns and eat 'em up effen they got out in the woods atter dark!

"'Rockabye baby in the tree trops' was the onliest song I heard my maw sing to git her babies to sleep. Slave folkses sung most all the time but we didn' think of what we sang much. We jus' got happy and started singin'. Sometimes we 'ud sing effen we felt sad and lowdown, but soon as we could, we 'ud go off whar we could go to sleep and forgit all 'bout trouble!" James nodded his gray head with a wise look in his bright eyes. "When you hear a nigger singin' sad songs hit's jus' kazen he can't stop what he is doin' long enough to go to sleep!"

The laughter that greeted this sally brought an answering grin to the wrinkled old face. Asked about marriage customs, James said:

"Folkses didn' make no big to-do over weddings like they do now. When slaves got married they jus' laid down the broom on the floor and the couple jined hands and jumped back-uds over the broomstick. I done seed 'em married that way many a time. Sometimes my marster would fetch Mistess down to the slave quarters to see a weddin'. Effen the slaves gittin' married was house servants, sometimes they married on the back porch or in the back yard at the big 'ouse but plantation niggers what was field hands married in they own cabins. The bride and groom jus' wore plain clothes kazen they didn' have no more.

"When the young marsters and mistesses at the big houses got married they 'lowed the slaves to gadder on the porch and peep through the windows at the weddin'. Mos'en generally they 'ud give the young couple a slave or two to take with them to they new home. My marster's chilluns was too young to git married befo' the war was over. They was seven of them chilluns; four of 'em was gals.

"What sort of tales did they tell 'mongs't the slaves 'bout the Norf befo' the war? To tell the troof, they didn't talk much like they does now 'bout them sort of things. None of our niggers ever runned away and we didn' know nuthin' 'bout no Norf twel long atter freedom come. We visited round each other's cabins at night. I did hear tell 'bout the patterollers. Folkses said effen they cotched niggers out at night they 'ud give 'em 'what Paddy give the drum'.

"Jus' befo' freedom comed 'bout 50 Yankee sojers come through our plantation and told us that the bull-whups and cow-hides was all dead and buried. Them sojers jus' passed on in a hurry and didn' stop for a meal or vittles or nuffin'. We didn't talk much 'bout Mr. Abbieham Lincum endurin' slavery time kazen we was skeered of him atter the war got started. I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Jef'son Davis, I don't remember ever hearin' 'bout him. I is heard about Mr. Booker Washin'ton and they do say he runned a moughty good school for niggers.

"One mornin' Marster blowed the bugle his own self and called us all up to the big 'ouse yard. He told us: 'You all jus' as free as I is. You are free from under the taskmarster but you ain't free from labor. You gotter labor and wuk hard effen you aims to live and eet and have clothes to wear. You kin stay here and wuk for me, or you kin go wharsomever you please.' He said he 'ud pay us what was right, and Lady, hit's the troof, they didn't nary a nigger on our plantation leave our marster then! I wukked on with Marster for 40 years atter the war!"

James had no fear of the Ku Klux.

"Right soon atter the war we saw plenty of Ku Kluxers but they never bothered nobody on our plantation. They allus seemed to be havin' heaps of fun. 'Course, they did have to straighten out some of them brash young nigger bucks on some of the other farms round about. Mos' of the niggers the Ku Kluxers got atter was'n on no farm, but was jus' roamin' 'round talkin' too much and makin' trouble. They had to take 'em in hand two or three times befo' some of them fool free niggers could be larned to behave theyselfs! But them Ku Kluxers kept on atter 'em twels't they larned they jus got to be good effen they 'spects to stay round here.

"Hit was about 40 years atter the war befo' many niggers 'gun to own they own lan'. They didn' know nothin' 'bout tendin' to money business when the war done ended and it take 'em a long time to larn how to buy and sell and take care of what they makes." James shook his head sadly. "Ma'am, heaps of niggers ain't never larned nothin' 'bout them things yit!

"A long time atter the war I married Lizy Yerby. I didn' give Liza no chanc't for to dress up. Jus' went and tuk her right outer the white folkses' kitchen and married her at the church in her workin' clothes. We had 13 chilluns but they ain't but two of 'em livin' now. Mos' of our chilluns died babies. Endurin' slavery Mistess tuk care of all the nigger babies borned on our plantations and looked atter they mammies too, but atter freedom come heap of nigger babies died out."

James said he had two wives, both widows.

"I married my second wife 37 years ago. To tell the troof, I don't rightly know how many grandchilluns I got, kazen I ain't seed some of 'em for thirty years. My chilluns is off fum here and I wouldn' know to save my life whar they is or what they does. My sister and brothers they is done dead out what ain't gone off, I don't know for sho' whar none of 'em is now."

A sigh punctuated James' monologue, and his old face was shadowed by a look of fear.

"Now I gwine tell you the troof. Now that it's all over I don't find life so good in my old age, as it was in slavery time when I was chillun down on Marster's plantation. Then I didn' have to worry 'bout whar my clothes and my somepin' to eat was comin' from or whar I was gwine to sleep. Marster tuk keer of all that. Now I ain't able for to wuk and make a livin' and hit's sho' moughty hard on this old nigger."

ALEC BOSTWICK Ex-Slave--Age 76

[TR: Preceding page that would usually contain information regarding the interview was marked 'Placeholder'.]

All of Uncle Alec Bostwick's people are dead and he lives in his tiny home with a young Negress named Emma Vergal. It was a beautiful April morning when his visitor arrived and while he was cordial enough he seemed very reluctant about talking. However, as one question followed another his interest gradually overcame his hesitancy and he began to unfold his life's story.

"I wuz born in Morgan County, an' I warn't mo' dan four year old when de War ended so I don't ricollect nothin' 'bout slav'ry days. I don't know much 'bout my ma, but her name was Martha an' pa's name was Jordan Bostwick, I don't know whar dey come from. When I knowed nothin' I wuz dar on de plantation. I had three brothers; George, John an' Reeje, an' dey's all dead. I dis'members my sister's name. Dar warn't but one gal an' she died when she wuz little.

"Ain't much to tell 'bout what wuz done in de quarters. Slaves wuz gyarded all de time jus' lak Niggers on de chain gang now. De overseer always sot by wid a gun.

"'Bout de beds, Nigger boys didn't pay no 'tention to sich as dat 'cause all dey keered 'bout wuz a place to sleep but 'peers lak to me dey wuz corded beds, made wid four high posties, put together wid iron pegs, an' holes what you run de cords thoo', bored in de sides. De cords wuz made out of b'ar grass woun' tight together. Dey put straw an' old quilts on 'em, an' called 'em beds.

"Gran'pa Berry wuz too old to wuk in de field so he stayed 'roun' de house an' piddled. He cut up wood, tended to de gyarden an' yard, an' bottomed chairs. Gran'ma Liza done de cookin' an' nussed de white folkses chilluns.

"I wukked in de field 'long side da rest of de Niggers, totin' water an' sich lak, wid de overseer dar all de time wid dat gun.

"What you talkin' 'bout Miss? Us didn't have no money. Sho' us didn't. Dey had to feed us an' plenty of it, 'cause us couldn't wuk if dey didn't feed us good.

"Us et cornbread, sweet 'tatoes, peas, home-made syrup an' sich lak. De meat wuz fried sometimes, but mos' of de time it wuz biled wid de greens. All de somethin' t'eat wuz cooked in de fireplace. Dey didn't know what stoves wuz in dem days. Yes Ma'am, us went 'possum huntin' at night, an' us had plenty 'possums too. Dey put sweet 'tatoes an' fat meat roun' 'em, an' baked 'em in a oven what had eyes on each side of it to put hooks in to take it off de fire wid.

"No Ma'am, us didn't go fishin', or rabbit huntin' nuther. Us had to wuk an' warn't no Nigger 'lowed to do no frolickin' lak dat in daytime. De white folkses done all de fishin' an' daytime huntin'. I don't 'member lakin' no sartin' somethin'. I wuz jus' too glad to git anythin'. Slaves didn't have no gyardens of dey own. Old Marster had one big gyarden what all de slaves et out of.

"Tell you 'bout our clo'es: us wore home-made clo'es, pants an' shirts made out of cotton in summer an' in de winter dey give us mo' home-made clo'es only dey wuz made of wool. All de clawf wuz made on de loom right dar on de plantation. Us wore de same things on Sunday what us did in de week, no diffunt. Our shoes wuz jus' common brogans what dey made at home. I ain't seed no socks 'til long atter de War. Co'se some folkses mought a had 'em, but us didn't have none.

"Marster Berry Bostwick an' Mist'ess Mary Bostwick, had a passel of chillun, I don't 'member none 'cept young Marse John. De others drifted off an' didn't come back, but young Marse John stayed on wid Old Marster an' Old Mist'ess 'til dey died. Old Marster, he warn't good. Truth is de light, an' he wuz one mean white man. Old Mist'ess wuz heaps better dan him. Dar wuz 'bout 150 mens an' 75 'omans. I couldn't keep up wid de chilluns. Dere wuz too many for me.

"Marster an' Mist'ess lived in a big fine house, but de slave quarters wuz made of logs, 'bout de size of box cyars wid two rooms.

"'Bout dat overseer he wuz a mean man, if one ever lived. He got de slaves up wid a gun at five o'clock an' wukked 'em 'til way atter sundown, standin' right over 'em wid a gun all de time. If a Nigger lagged or tuk his eyes off his wuk, right den an' dar he would make him strip down his clo'es to his waist, an' he whup him wid a cat-o-nine tails. Evvy lick dey struck him meant he wuz hit nine times, an' it fotch da red evvy time it struck.

"Oh! Yes Ma'am, dey had a cyar'iage driver, he didn't do much 'cept look attar de hawses an' drive de white folkses 'roun'.

"I done tole you 'bout dat overseer; all he done wuz sot 'roun' all day wid a gun an' make de Niggers wuk. But I'se gwine tell you de trufe, he sho' wuz poor white trash wid a house full of snotty-nose chilluns. Old Marster tole him he wuz jus' lak a rabbit, he had so many chillun. I means dis; if dem days comes back I hope de good Lord takes me fus'.

"Dey had a house whar dey put de Niggers, what wuz called de gyard house, an' us didn't know nothin' 'bout no jail dat day an' time. I seed 'em drive de Niggers by old Marster's place in droves takin' 'em to Watkinsville. Morgan County, whar us lived, touched Oconee an' dat wuz the nighes' town. One day I went wid old Marster to Watkinsville an' I seed 'em sell Niggers on de block. I warn't sold. When I knowed nothin' I wuz right whar I wuz at.

"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for de Niggers in dem days. If a Nigger wuz seed wid a paper, de white folks would pretty nigh knock his head off him.

"Us didn't have no church in de country for Niggers, an' dey went to church wid deir white folkses, if dey went a tall. De white folks sot in front, an' de Niggers sot in de back. All de time dat overseer wuz right dar wid his gun. When dey baptized de Niggers dey tuk 'em down to de river and plunged 'em in, while dem what had done been baptized sang: "Dar's a Love Feast in Heb'en Today."

"Yes Ma'am, de white folkses had deir cemetery, an' dey had one for de slaves. When dere wuz a funeral 'mong de Niggers us sung:

'Dark was de night
And cold was de groun'
Whar my Marster was laid
De drops of sweat
Lak blood run down
In agony He prayed.'

"Dem coffins sho' wuz mournful lookin' things, made out of pine boa'ds an' painted wid lampblack; dey wuz black as de night. Dey wuz big at de head an' little at de foot, sort a lak airplanes is. De inside wuz lined wid white clawf, what dey spun on de plantation.

"De patterollers wuz right on dey job. Slaves use' to frame up on 'em if dey knowed whar dey wuz hidin', 'waitin' to cotch a Nigger. Dey would git hot ashes an' dash over 'em, an' dem patterollers dey sho' would run, but de slaves would git worse dan dat, if dey was cotched.

"Miss, in slav'ry time when Niggers come from de fields at night dey warn't no frolickin'. Dey jus' went to sleep. De mens wukked all day Sadday, but de 'omans knocked off at twelve o'clock to wash an' sich lak.

"Christmas times dey give us a week off an' brung us a little candy an' stuff 'roun'. Not much, not much. On New Year's Day us had to git back on de job.

"Chilluns what wuz big enough to wuk didn't have time in week days to play no games on Marse Bostwick's place. On Sunday us played wid marbles made out of clay, but dat's all. I heered my ma sing a little song to de baby what soun' lak dis:

'Hush little baby
Don't you cry
You'll be an angel
Bye-an'-bye.'

"Yes Ma'am, dere wuz one thing dey wuz good 'bout. When de Niggers got sick dey sont for de doctor. I heered 'em say dey biled jimson weeds an' made tea for colds, an' rhubarb tea wuz to cure worms in chillun. I wuz too young to be bothered 'bout witches an' charms, Rawhead an' Bloody Bones an' sich. I didn't take it in.

"When de Yankees come thoo' an' 'lowed us wuz free, us thought dey wuz jus' dem patterollers, an' us made for de woods. Dey tole us to come out, dat us wuz free Niggers. Marster Berry said: 'You dam Niggers am free. You don't b'long to me no more.'

"Us married long time atter de War, an' us had a little feast: cake, wine, fried chicken, an' ham, an' danced 'til 'mos' daybreak. I 'members how good she looked wid dat pretty dove colored dress, all trimmed wid lace. Us didn't have no chillun. She wuz lak a tree what's sposen to bear fruit an' don't. She died 'bout thirteen years ago.

"When de Ku Kluxers come thoo', us chillun thought de devil wuz atter us for sho'. I wuz sich a young chap I didn't take in what dey said 'bout Mr. Abyham Lincoln, an' Mr. Jeff Davis. Us would a been slaves 'til yit, if Mr. Lincoln hadn't sot us free. Dey wuz bofe of 'em, good mens. I sho' had ruther be free. Who wants a gun over 'em lak a prisoner? A pusson is better off dead.

"I jined de church 'cause dis is a bad place at de bes' an' dere's so many mean folkses, what's out to seem good an' ain't. An' if you serve God in de right way, I'se sho' when you die he'll give you a place to rest for evermore. An' 'cordin' to my notion dat's de way evvybody oughta live."

In conclusion, Alec said: "I don't want to talk no more. I'se disappointed, I thought sho' you wuz one of dem pension ladies what come for to fetch me some money. I sho' wish dey would come. Good-bye Miss." Then he hobbled into the house.

Barragan-Harris [TR: Miss Maude Barragan (interviewer), Mrs. Leila Harris (editor)]

NANCY BOUDRY, THOMSON, GEORGIA

"If I ain't a hunnard," said Nancy, nodding her white-turbaned head, "I sho' is close to it, 'cause I got a grandson 50 years old."

Nancy's silky white hair showed long and wavy under her headband. Her gingham dress was clean, and her wrinkled skin was a reddish-yellow color, showing a large proportion of Indian and white blood. Har eyes ware a faded blue.

"I speck I is mos' white," acknowledged Nancy, "but I ain't never knowed who my father was. My mother was a dark color."

The cottage faced the pine grove behind an old church. Pink ramblers grew everywhere, and the sandy yard was neatly kept. Nancy's paralyzed granddaughter-in-law hovered in the doorway, her long smooth braids hanging over Indian-brown shoulders, a loose wrapper of dark blue denim flowing around her tall unsteady figure. She was eager to taka part in the conversation but hampered by a thick tongue induced, as Nancy put it, "by a bad sore throat she ain't got over."

Nancy's recollections of plantation days were colored to a somber hue by overwork, childbearing, poor food and long working hours.

"Master was a hard taskmaster," said Nancy. "My husband didn't live on de same plantation where I was, de Jerrell places in Columbia County. He never did have nuthin' to give me 'cause he never got nuthin'. He had to come and ask my white folks for me. Dey had to carry passes everywhere dey went, if dey didn't, dey'd git in trouble.

"I had to work hard, plow and go and split wood jus' like a man. Sometimes dey whup me. Dey whup me bad, pull de cloes off down to de wais'--my master did it, our folks didn' have overseer.

"We had to ask 'em to let us go to ohurch. Went to white folks church, 'tell de black folks get one of dere own. No'm I dunno how to read. Never had no schools at all, didn' 'low us to pick up a piece paper and look at it."

"Nancy, wasn't your mistress kind to you?"

"Mistis was sorta kin' to me, sometimes. But dey only give me meat and bread, didn' give me nothin' good--I ain' gwine tell no story. I had a heap to undergo wid. I had to scour at night at de Big House--two planks one night, two more de nex'. De women peoples spun at night and reeled, so many cuts a night. Us had to git up befo' daybreak be ready to go to de fiel's.

"My master didn' have but three cullud people, dis yuh was what I stayed wid, my young master, had not been long married and dus' de han's dey give him when he marry was all he had.

"Didn' have no such house as dis," Nancy looked into the open door of the comfortable octtage, "sometimes dey have a house built, it would be daubed. Dus' one family, didn' no two families double up."

"But the children had a good time, didn't they? They played games?"

"Maybe dey did play ring games, I never had no time to see what games my chillus play, I work so hard. Heap o' little chillun slep' on de flo'. Never had no frolics neither, no ma'm, and didn' go to none. We would have prayer meetings on Saturday nights, and one might in de week us had a chairback preacher, and sometimes a regular preacher would come in."

Nancy did not remember ever having seen the Patterollers.

"I hearn talk of 'em you know, heap o' times dey come out and make out like dey gwine shoot you at night, dey mus' been Patterollers, dey was gettin' hold of a heap of 'em."

"What did you do about funerals, Nancy?"

"Dey let us knock off for funerals, I tell de truth. Us stay up all night, singin' and prayin'. Dey make de coffin outter pine boards."

"Did you suffer during the war?"

"We done de bes' we could, we et what we could get, sometimes didn' have nothin' to eat but piece of cornbread, but de white folks allus had chicken."

"But you had clothes to wear?"

"Us had clothes 'cause we spun de thread and weaved 'em. Dey bought dem dere great big ole brogans where you couldn' hardly walk in 'em. Not like dese shoes I got on." Nancy thrust out her foot, easy in "Old Ladies' Comforts."

"When they told you were free, Nancy, did the master appear to be angry?"

"No'm, white folks didn' 'pear to be mad. My master dus' tole us we was free. Us moved right off, but not so far I couldn' go backwards and forwards to see 'um." (So it was evident that even if Nancy's life had been hard, there was a bond between her and her former owners.) "I didn' do no mo' work for 'um, I work for somebody else. Us rented land and made what we could, so we could have little somethin' to eat. I scoured and waited on white people in town, got little piece of money, and was dus' as proud!"

Nancy savored the recollection of her first earned money a moment, thinking back to the old days.

"I had a preacher for my second marriage," she continued, "Fo' chillun died on me--one girl, de yuthers was babies. White doctor tended me."

Asked about midwifery, Nancy smiled.

"I was a midwife myself, to black and white, after freedom. De Thomson doctors all liked me and tole people to 'git Nancy.' I used 'tansy tea'--heap o' little root--made black pepper tea, fotch de pains on 'em. When I would git to de place where I had a hard case, I would send for de doctor, and he would help me out, yes, doctor help me out of all of 'em."

Asked about signs and superstitions, Nancy nodded.

"I have seed things. Day look dus' like a person, walkin' in de woods. I would look off and look back to see it again and it be gone." Nancy lowered her voice mysteriously, and looked back into the little room where Vanna's unsteady figure moved from bed to chair. "I seed a coffin floatin' in de air in dat room--" she shivered, "and I heard a heap o' knockings. I dunno what it bees--but de sounds come in de house. I runs ev'y squeech owl away what comes close, too." Nancy clasped her hands, right thumb over left thumb, "does dat--and it goes on away--dey quits hollerin', you chokin' 'em when you does dat."

"Do you plant by the moon, Nancy?"

"Plant when de moon change, my garden, corn, beans. I planted some beans once on de wrong time of de moon and dey didn' bear nothing--I hated it so bad, I didn' know what to do, so I been mindful ever since when I plant. Women peoples come down on de moon, too. I ain't know no signs to raise chillun. I whup mine when dey didn' do right, I sho' did. I didn' 'low my chillun to take nothin'--no aigs and nothin' 'tall and bring 'em to my house. I say 'put dem right whar you git 'em."

"Did you sing spirituals, Nancy?"

"I sang regular meetin' songs," she said, "like 'lay dis body down' and 'let yo' joys be known'--but I can't sing now, not any mo'."

Nancy was proud of her quilt-making ability.

"Git 'um, Vanna, let de ladies see 'um," she said; and when Vanna brought the gay pieces made up in a "double-burst" (sunburst) pattern, Nancy fingered the squares with loving fingers. "Hit's pooty, ain't it?" she asked wistfully, "I made one for a white lady two years ago, but dey hurts my fingers now--makes 'em stiff."

FOLKLORE INTERVIEW

ALICE BRADLEY Hull Street near Corner of Hoyt Street Athens, Georgia

KIZZIE COLQUITT 243 Macon Avenue Athens, Georgia

Written by: Miss Grace McCune Athens, Georgia

Edited by: Mrs. Leila Harris Editor Federal Writers' Project Augusta, Georgia [APR 20 1938]

[TR: These two interviews were filed together, though not recorded at the same place or time.]

Alice Bradley

Alice Bradley, or "Aunt Alice" as she is known to everybody, "runs cards" and claims to be a seeress. Apologetic and embarrassed because she had overslept and was straightening her room, she explained that she hadn't slept well because a dog had howled all night and she was uneasy because of this certain forerunner of disaster.

"Here t'is Sunday mornin' and what wid my back, de dog, and de rheumatics in my feets, its [TR: 'done' crossed out] too late to go to church, so come in honey I'se glad to hab somebody to talk to. Dere is sho' goin' to be a corpse close 'round here. One night a long time ago two dogs howled all night long and on de nex' Sunday dere wuz two corpses in de church at de same time. Dat's one sign dat neber fails, when a dog howls dat certain way somebody is sho' goin' to be daid."

When asked what her full name was, she said: "My whole name is Alice Bradley now. I used to be a Hill, but when I married dat th'owed me out of bein' a Hill, so I'se jus' a Bradley now. I wuz born on January 14th but I don't 'member what year. My ma had three chillun durin' de war and one jus' atter de war. I think dat las' one wuz me, but I ain't sho'. My pa's name wuz Jim Hill, and ma's name wuz Ca'line Hill. Both of 'em is daid now. Pa died October 12, 1896 and wuz 88 years old. Ma died November 20, 1900; she wuz 80 years old. I knows dem years is right 'cause I got 'em from dat old fambly Bible so I kin git 'em jus' right. One of my sisters, older dan I is, stays in Atlanta wid her son. Since she los' one of her sons, her mind's done gone. My other sister ain't as old as I is but her mind is all right and she is well."

"I wuz raised in Washin'ton, Wilkes County, and de fust I 'members was stayin' wid Miss Alice Rayle. She had three chillun and I nussed 'em. One of de boys is a doctor now, and has a fambly of his own, and de las' I heared of 'im, he wuz stayin' in Atlanta.

"I'se been married' two times. I runned away wid Will Grisham, when I wuz 'bout 14 years old. Mr. Carter, a Justice of de Peace, met us under a 'simmon tree and tied de knot right dar. My folks ketched us, but us wuz already married and so it didn't make no diffunce.

"I lived on a farm wid my fust husband, and us had three chillun, but dey is all gone now. I 'members when my oldes' gal wuz 'bout 2 years old, dey wuz playin' out on de porch wid dey little dog, when a mad dog come by and bit my chillun's dog. Folks kilt our dog, and jus' 'bout one week atterwards my little gal wuz daid too. She did love dat little dog, and he sho' did mind 'er. She jus' grieved herself to death 'bout dat dog.

"Atter my fust husband died, I married Rich Bradley. Rich wuz a railroad man, and he went off to Washin'ton, D.C., to wuk. He sont me money all de time den, but when he went from dar to Shecargo to wuk I didn't hear from 'im long, and I don't know what's happened to 'im 'til now, for it's been a long time since I heared from 'im.

"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I 'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died way out yonder where dey sont 'em.

"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz married and dey tol me dat I wuz right.

"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine.

"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. I runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' lak I tole 'im it would be.

"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member her name."

Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is good to me."

Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de cyards for you!"

Kizzie Colquitt

Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering.

"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. "I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died.

"My ma married some nigger from way out in Indiana. He promised her he would send money back for her chillun, but us never heered nothin' from 'im no mo'. I wuz wid' my w'ite folks, de Lattimores, when my ma died, way out in Indiana.

"Atter Marse Bob died, I stayed wid my old Missus, and slep' by her bed at night. She wuz good to me, and de hardes' wuk I done wuz pickin' up acorns to fatten de hogs. I stayed dar wid her 'til she died. Us had plenty t'eat, a smokehouse filled wid hams, and all de other things us needed. Dey had a great big fireplace and a big old time oven whar dey baked bread, and it sho' wuz good bread.

"My old Missus died when I wuz 'bout 6 years old, and I wus sont to Lexin'ton, Georgia, to live wid my sister. Dere wuz jus' da two of us chilluns. Den us wukked every day, and went to bed by dark; not lak de young folks now, gallivantin' 'bout all night long.

"When I wuz 'bout 14 I married and come to live on Dr. Willingham's place. It wuz a big plantation, and dey really lived. When de crops wuz all in and all de wuk done, dey had big times 'round dar.

"Dere wuz de corn shuckin' wid one house for de corn and another house for de shucks. Atter all de shuckin' wuz done, dere wuz eatin' and dancin'. And it wuz eatin' too! Dey kilt hogs, barbecued 'em, and roasted some wid apples in dey mouf's to give 'em a good flavor, and course a little corn likker went wid it. Dey had big doin's at syrup makin' time too, but dat wuz hard wuk den. Makin' syrup sho' wuz a heap of trouble.

"Later us lived wid de Johnson fambly, and atter my old man died, I come to dis town wid de Johnsons. Dere wuz three chilluns, Percy, Lewis, and a gal. I stayed wid 'em 'til de chilluns wuz all growed up and eddicated. All my other w'ite folks is gone; my sister done gone too, and my son; all de chillun dat I had, deys done daid too.

"Now I has to wash so I kin live. I used to have plenty, but times is changed and now sometimes I don't have nothin' but bread, and jus' bread is hard to git, heap of de time.

"I put in for one of dem old age pensions, but dey ain't give me nothin' yet, so I jus' wuk when I kin, and hope dat it won't be long 'fore I has plenty again."

OLD SLAVE STORY

DELLA BRISCOE Macon, Georgia

By Adella S. Dixon [HW: (Colored)] [JUL 28 1937]

Della Briscoe, now living in Macon, is a former slave of Mr. David Ross, who owned a large plantation in Putnam County. Della, when a very tiny child, was carried there with her father and mother, Sam and Mary Ross. Soon after their arrival the mother was sent to work at the "big house" in Eatonton. This arrangement left Della, her brother and sister to the care of their grandmother, who really posed as their mother. The children grew up under the impression that their mother was an older sister and did not know the truth until just after the close of the Civil War, when the mother became seriously ill and called the children to her bedside to tell them goodbye.

Mr. David Ross had a large family and was considered the richest planter in the county. Nearly every type of soil was found on his vast estate, composed of hilly sections as well as acres of lowlands. The highway entering Eatonton divided the plantation and, down this road every Friday, Della's father drove the wagon to town with a supply of fresh butter, for Mrs. Ross' thirty head of cows supplied enough milk to furnish the city dwellers with butter.

Refrigeration was practically unknown, so a well was used to keep the butter fresh. This cool well was eighty feet deep and passed through a layer of solid rock. A rope ladder was suspended from the mouth of the well to the place where the butter was lowered for preservation. For safety, and to shield it from the sun, reeds were planted all around the well. And as they grew very tall, a stranger would not suspect a well being there.

In addition to marketing, Della's father trapped beavers which were plentiful in the swampy part of the plantation bordering the Oconee, selling their pelts to traders in the nearby towns of Augusta and Savannah, where Mr. Ross also marketed his cotton and large quantities of corn. Oxen, instead of mules, were used to make the trips to market and return, each trip consuming six or seven days.

The young children were assigned small tasks, such as piling brush in "new grounds", carrying water to field hands, and driving the calves to pasture.

Punishment was administered, though not as often as on some plantations. The little girl, Della, was whipped only once--for breaking up a turkey's nest she had found. Several were accused of this, and because the master could not find the guilty party, he whipped each of the children.

Crime was practically unknown and Mr. Ross' slaves never heard of a jail until they were freed.

Men were sometimes placed in "bucks", which meant they were laid across blocks with their hands and feet securely tied. An iron bar was run between the blocks to prevent any movement; then, after being stripped, they were whipped. Della said that she knew of but one case of this type of punishment being administered a Ross slave. Sickness was negligible--childbirth being practically the only form of a Negro woman's "coming down".

As a precaution against disease, a tonic was given each slave every spring. Three were also, every spring, taken from the field each day until every one had been given a dose of calomel and salts. Mr. Ross once bought two slaves who became ill with smallpox soon after their arrival. They were isolated in a small house located in the center of a field, while one other slave was sent there to nurse them. All three were burned to death when their hut was destroyed by fire.

In case of death, even on a neighboring place, all work was suspended until the dead was buried.

Sunday, the only day of rest, was often spent in attending religious services, and because these were irregularly held, brush arbor meetings were common. This arbor was constructed of a brush roof supported by posts and crude joists. The seats were usually made of small saplings nailed to short stumps.

Religion was greatly stressed and every child was christened shortly after its birth. An adult who desired to join the church went first to the master to obtain his permission. He was then sent to the home of a minister who lived a short distance away at a place called Flat Rock. Here, his confession was made and, at the next regular service, he was formally received into the church.

Courtships were brief.

The "old man", who was past the age for work and only had to watch what went on at the quarters, was usually the first to notice a budding friendship, which he reported to the master. The couple was then questioned and, if they consented, were married without the benefit of clergy.

Food was distributed on Monday night, and for each adult slave the following staple products were allowed--

Weekly ration: On Sunday:
3-1/2 lbs. meat One qt. syrup
1 pk. of meal One gal. flour
1 gal. shorts One cup lard

Vegetables, milk, etc., could be obtained at the "big house", but fresh meat and chickens were never given. The desire for these delicacies often overcame the slaves' better natures, and some frequently went night foraging for small shoats and chickens.

The "old man" kept account of the increase or decrease in live stock and poultry and reported anything missing each day. When suspicion fell on a visitor of the previous night, this information was given to his master, who then searched the accused's dinner pail and cabin. If meat was found in either the culprit was turned over to his accuser for punishment. After being whipped, he was forbidden for three months to visit the plantation where he had committed the theft.

One of Della's grandmother's favorite recipes was made of dried beef and wheat. The wheat was brought from the field and husked by hand. This, added to the rapidly boiling beef, was cooked until a mush resulted, which was then eaten from wooden bowls with spoons of the same material. White plates were never used by the slaves.

Cloth for clothing was woven on the place. Della's grandmother did most of the spinning, and she taught her child to spin when she was so small that she had to stand on a raised plank to reach the wheel. After the cloth was spun it was dyed with dye made from "shoemake" (sumac) leaves, green walnuts, reeds, and copperas. One person cut and others sewed. The dresses for women were straight, like slips, and the garments of the small boys resembled night shirts. If desired, a bias fold of contrasting colour was placed at the waist line or at the bottom of dresses. The crudely made garments were starched with a solution of flour or meal and water which was strained and then boiled.

As a small child Della remembers hearing a peculiar knock on the door during the night, and a voice which replied to queries, "No one to hurt you, but keep that red flannel in your mouth. Have you plenty to eat? Don't worry; you'll be free." No one would ever tell, if they knew, to whom this voice belonged.

Just before the beginning of the Civil War a comet appeared which was so bright that the elder people amused themselves by sitting on the rail fence and throwing pins upon the ground where the reflection was cast. The children scrambled madly to see who could find the most pins.

During the early part of the war Mr. Ross fought with the Confederates, leaving his young son, Robert, in charge of his affairs. The young master was very fond of horses and his favorite horse--"Bill"--was trained to do tricks. One of these was to lie down when tickled on his flanks. The Yankees visited the plantation and tried to take this horse. Robert, who loved him dearly, refused to dismount, and as they were about to shoot the horse beneath him, the slaves began to plead. They explained that the boy was kind to every one and devoted to animals, after which explanation, he was allowed to keep his horse.

The breastworks at Savannah required many laborers to complete their construction, and as the commanders desired to save the strength of their soldiers, slave labor was solicited. Two slaves from each nearby plantation were sent to work for a limited number of days. The round trip from the Ross plantation required seven days.

Nearly every man had a family and when they returned from these long trips they drove to the quarters and fell on their knees to receive the welcome caresses of their small children.

Recreational facilities were not provided and slave children had little knowledge of how to play. Their two main amusements were building frog houses and sliding down a steep bank on a long board. One day, as they played up and down the highway, building frog houses at irregular intervals, little Della looked up and saw a group of Yankee calvarymen approaching. She screamed and began running and so attracted the attention of Mr. Ross who was at home on a furlough.

He saw the men in time to find a hiding place. Meanwhile, the soldiers arrived and the leader, springing from his horse, snatched Della up and spanked her soundly for giving the alarm, as they had hoped to take her master by surprise. Della said this was the first "white slap" she ever received.

Some of the Yankees entered the house, tore up the interior, and threw the furniture out doors. Another group robbed the smokehouse and smashed so many barrels of syrup that it ran in a stream through the yard. They carried much of the meat off with them and gave the remainder to the slaves. Chickens were caught, dressed, and fried on the spot as each soldier carried his own frying pan, and a piece of flint rock and a sponge with which to make a fire. The men were skilled in dressing fowls and cleaned them in a few strokes.

When they had eaten as much as they desired, a search for the corral was made, but the mules were so well hidden that they were not able to find them. Della's father's hands were tied behind him and he was then forced to show them the hiding place. These fine beasts, used for plowing, were named by the slaves who worked them. Characteristic names were: "Jule", "Pigeon", "Little Deal", "Vic", (the carriage horse), "Streaked leg," "Kicking Kid", "Sore-back Janie". Every one was carried off.

This raid took place on Christmas Eve and the slaves were frantic as they had been told that Yankees were mean people, especially was Sherman so pictured.

When Sherman had gone, Mr. Ross came from his hiding place in the "cool well" and spoke to his slaves. To the elder ones he said, "I saw you give away my meat and mules."

"Master, we were afraid. We didn't want to do it, but we were afraid not to."

"Yes, I understand that you could not help yourselves." He then turned to the children, saying, "Bless all of you, but to little Della, I owe my life. From now on she shall never be whipped, and she shall have a home of her own for life."

She shook with laughter as she said, "Master thought I screamed to warn him and I was only frightened."

True to his word, after freedom he gave her a three-acre plot of land upon which he built a house and added a mule, buggy, cow, hogs, etc. Della lived there until after her marriage, when she had to leave with her husband. She later lost her home. Having been married twice, she now bears the name of Briscoe, her last husband's name.

When the family had again settled down to the ordinary routine, a new plague, body lice, said to have been left by the invaders, made life almost unbearable for both races.