Chapter II: Part 2

"De log cabins what de slaves lived in was off a piece from de big house. Dem cabins had rock chimblies, put together wid red mud. Dere warn't no glass in de windows and doors of dem cabins--jus' plain old home-made wooden shutters and doors." Julia laughed as she told of their beds. "Us called 'em four posters, and dat's what dey was, but dey was jus' plain old pine posties what one of de men on de plantation made up. Two posties at de head and two at de foot wid pine rails betwixt 'em was de way dey made dem beds. Dere warn't no sto'-bought steel springs dem days, not even for de white folks, but dem old cord springs went a long ways towards makin' de beds comfortable and dey holped to hold de bed together. De four poster beds de white folks slept on was corded too, but deir posties warn't made out of pine. Dey used oak and walnut and sometimes real mahogany, and dey carved 'em up pretty. Some of dem big old posties to de white folkses beds was six inches thick.

"Slaves all et up at de big house in dat long old kitchen. I kin jus' see dat kitchen now. It warn't built on to de big house, 'cept it was at de end of a big porch dat went from it to de big house. A great big fireplace was 'most all de way 'cross one end of dat kitchen, and it had racks and cranes for de pots and pans and ovens but, jus' let me tell you, our Marster had a cookstove too. Yessum, it was a real sho' 'nough iron cookstove. No'm, it warn't 'zactly lak de stoves us uses now. It was jus' a long, low stove, widout much laigs, jus' flat on top wid eyes to cook on. De oven was at de bottom. Mammy and Grandma Mary was mighty proud of dat stove, 'cause dere warn't nobody else 'round dar what had a cookstove so us was jus' plumb rich folks.

"Slaves didn't come to de house for dinner when dey was wukin' a fur piece off in de fields. It was sont to 'em, and dat was what kilt one of my brothers. Whilst it was hot, de cooks would set de bucket of dinner on his haid and tell him to run to de field wid it fore it got cold. He died wid brain fever, and de doctor said it was from totin' all dem hot victuals on his haid. Pore Brudder John, he sho' died out, and ever since den I been skeered of gittin' too hot on top of de haid.

"Dere was twelve of Mammy's chillun in all, countin' Little Peter who died out when he was a baby. De other boys was John, Tramer, Sam'l, George, and Scott. De only one of my brothers left now is George, leastwise I reckon he's livin' yet. De last 'count I had of him he was in Chicago, and he must be 'bout a hundred years old now. De gals was me and Mary, 'Merica, Hannah, Betsy, and Emma.

"'Fore Grandma Mary got too old to do all de cookin', Mammy wuked in de field. Mammy said she allus woke up early, and she could hear Marster when he started gittin' up. She would hurry and git out 'fore he had time to call 'em. Sometimes she cotch her hoss and rid to the field ahead of de others, 'cause Marster never laked for nobody to be late in de mornin'. One time he got atter one of his young slaves out in de field and told him he was a good mind to have him whupped. Dat night de young Nigger was tellin' a old slave 'bout it, and de old man jus' laughed and said: 'When Marster pesters me dat way I jus' rise up and cuss him out.' Dat young fellow 'cided he would try it out and de next time Marster got atter him dey had a rukus what I ain't never gwine to forgit. Us was all out in de yard at de big house, skeered to git a good breath when us heared Marster tell him to do somepin, 'cause us knowed what he was meanin' to do. He didn't go right ahead and mind Marster lak he had allus been used to doin'. Marster called to him again, and den dat fool Nigger cut loose and he evermore did cuss Marster out. Lordy, Chile, Marster jus' fairly tuk de hide off dat Nigger's back. When he tried to talk to dat old slave 'bout it de old man laughed and said: 'Shucks, I allus waits 'til I gits to de field to cuss Marster so he won't hear me.'

"Marster didn't have but two boys and one of 'em got kilt in de war. Dat sho'ly did hurt our good old Marster, but dat was de onliest diffunce de war made on our place. When it was over and dey said us was free, all de slaves stayed right on wid de Marster; dat was all dey knowed to do. Marster told 'em dey could stay on jus' as long as dey wanted to, and dey was right dar on dat hill 'til Marster had done died out and gone to Glory.

"Us chillun thought hog killin' time wes de best time of all de year. Us would hang 'round de pots whar dey was rendin' up de lard and all day us et dem good old browned skin cracklin's and ash roasted 'taters. Marster allus kilt from 50 to 60 hogs at a time. It tuk dat much meat to feed all de folks dat had to eat from his kitchen. Little chillun never had nothin' much to do 'cept eat and sleep and play, but now, jus' let me tell you for sho', dere warn't no runnin' 'round nights lak dey does now. Not long 'fore sundown dey give evvy slave chile a wooden bowl of buttermilk and cornpone and a wooden spoon to eat it wid. Us knowed us had to finish eatin' in time to be in bed by de time it got dark.

"Our homespun dresses had plain waisties wid long skirts gathered on to 'em. In hot weather chillun wore jus' one piece; dat was a plain slip, but in cold weather us had plenty of good warm clothes. Dey wove cotton and wool together to make warm cloth for our winter clothes and made shoes for us to wear in winter too. Marster evermore did believe in takin' good keer of his Niggers.

"I kin ricollect dat 'fore dere was any churches right in our neighborhood, slaves would walk 8 and 10 miles to church. Dey would git up 'way 'fore dawn on meetin' day, so as to git dar on time. Us wouldn't wear our shoes on dem long walks, but jus' went barfoots 'til us got nearly to de meetin' house. I jus' kin 'member dat, for chillun warn't 'lowed to try to walk dat fur a piece, but us could git up early in de mornin' and see de grown folks start off. Dey was dressed in deir best Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes and deir shoes, all shined up, was tied together and hung over deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dust on 'em. [HW in margin: Sunday clothing] Men folks had on plain homespun shirts and jeans pants. De jeans what deir pants was made out of was homespun too. Some of de 'omans wore homespun dresses, but most of 'em had a calico dress what was saved special for Sunday meetin' wear. 'Omans wore two or three petticoats all ruffled and starched 'til one or dem underskirts would stand by itself. Dey went barfoots wid deir shoes hung over deir shoulders, jus' lak de mens, and evvy 'oman pinned up her dress and evvy one of her petticoats but one to keep 'em from gittin' muddy. Dresses and underskirts was made long enough to touch de ground dem days. Dey allus went off singin', and us chillun would be wishin' for de time when us would be old enough to wear long dresses wid starched petticoats and go to meetin'. Us chillun tried our best to stay 'wake 'til dey got home so us could hear 'em talk 'bout de preachin' and singin' and testifyin' for de Lord, and us allus axed how many had done jined de church dat day.

"Long 'fore I was old enough to make dat trip on foot, dey built a Baptist church nearby. It was de white folkses church, but dey let deir own Niggers join dar too, and how us chillun did love to play 'round it. No'm, us never broke out no windows or hurt nothin' playin' dar. Us warn't never 'lowed to throw no rocks when us was on de church grounds. De church was up on top of a high hill and at de bottom of dat hill was de creek whar de white folks had a fine pool for baptizin'. Dey had wooden steps to go down into it and a long wooden trough leadin' from de creek to fill up de pool whenever dere was baptizin' to be done. Dey had real sermons in dat church and folks come from miles around to see dem baptizin's. White folks was baptized fust and den de Niggers. When de time come for to baptize dem Niggers you could hear 'em singin' and shoutin' a long ways off.

"It jus' don't seem lak folks has de same sort of 'ligion now dey had dem days, 'specially when somebody dies. Den de neighbors all went to de house whar de corpse was and sung and prayed wid de fambly. De coffins had to be made atter folks was done dead. Dey measured de corpse and made de coffin 'cordin'ly. Most of 'em was made out of plain pine wood, lined wid black calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de outside. Dey didn't have no 'balmers on de plantations so dey couldn't keep dead folks out long; dey had to bury 'em de very next day atter dey died. Dey put de corpse in one wagon and de fambly rode in another, but all de other folks walked to de graveyard. When dey put de coffin in de grave dey didn't have no sep'rate box to place it in, but dey did lay planks 'cross de top of it 'fore de dirt was put in. De preacher said a prayer and de folks sung _Harps from de Tomb_. Maybe several months later dey would have de funeral preached some Sunday.

"Us had all sorts of big doin's at harvest time. Dere was cornshuckin's, logrollin's, syrup makin's, and cotton pickin's. Dey tuk time about from one big plantation to another. Evvy place whar dey was a-goin' to celebrate tuk time off to cook up a lot of tasty eatments, 'specially to barbecue plenty of good meat. De Marsters at dem diffunt places allus seed dat dere was plenty of liquor passed 'round and when de wuk was done and de Niggers et all dey wanted, dey danced and played 'most all night. What us chillun laked most 'bout it was de eatin'. What I 'member best of all is de good old corn risin' lightbread. Did you ever see any of it, Chile? Why, my Mammy and Grandma Mary could bake dat bread so good it would jus' melt in your mouth.

"Mammy died whilst I was still little and Daddy married again. I guess his second wife had a time wid all of us chillun. She tried to be good to us, but I was skeered of her for a long time atter she come to our cabin. She larnt me how to make my dresses, and de fust one I made all by myself was a long sight too big for me. I tried it on and was plumb sick 'bout it bein' so big, den she said; 'Never mind, you'll grow to it.' Let me tell you, I got dat dress off in a hurry 'cause I was 'most skeered to death for fear dat if I kept it on it would grow to my skin lak I thought she meant. [HW in margin: Humor] I never put dat dress on no more for a long time and dat was atter I found out dat she jus' meant dat my dress would fit me atter I had growed a little more.

"All us chillun used to pick cotton for Marster, and he bought all our clothes and shoes. One day he told me and Mary dat us could go to de store and git us a pair of shoes apiece. 'Course us knowed what kind of shoes he meant for us to git, but Mary wanted a fine pair of Sunday shoes and dat's what she picked out and tuk home. Me, I got brass-toed brogans lak Marster meant for us to git. 'Bout half way home Mary put on her shoes and walked to de big house in 'em. When Marster seed 'em he was sho' mad as a hornet, but it was too late to take 'em back to de store atter de shoes had done been wore and was all scratched up. Marster fussed: 'Blast your hide, I'm a good mind to thrash you to death.' Mary stood dar shakin' and tremblin', but dat's all Marster ever said to her 'bout it. Us heared him tell Mist'ess dat dat gal Mary was a right smart Nigger.

"Marster had a great big old bull dat was mighty mean. He had real long horns, and he could lift de fence railin's down one by one and turn all de cows out. Evvy time he got out he would fight us chillun, so Marster had to keep him fastened up in de stable. One day when us wanted to play in de stable, us turned Old Camel (dat was de bull) out in de pasture. He tuk down rails enough wid his horns to let de cows in Marster's fine gyarden and dey et it all up. Marster was wuss dan mad dat time, but us hid in de barn under some hay 'til he went to bed. Next mornin' he called us all up to git our whuppin', but us cried and said us wouldn't never do it no more so our good old Marster let us off dat time.

"Lak I done said before, I stayed on dar 'til Marster died, den I married Matthew Hartsfield. Lordy, Chile, us didn't have no weddin'. I had on a new calico dress and Matthew wore some new blue jeans breeches. De Reverend Hargrove, de white folks preacher, married us and nobody didn't know nothin' 'bout it 'til it was all over. Us went to Oglethorpe County and lived dar 19 years 'fore Matthew died. I wuked wid white folks dar 'til I married up wid Ben Larken and us come on here to Athens to live. I have done some wuk for 'most all de white folks 'round here. Ben's grandpappy was a miller on Potts Creek, nigh Stephens, and sometimes Ben used to have to go help him out wid de wuk, atter he got old and feeble.

"Dey's all gone now and 'cept for some nieces, I'm left all alone. I kin still mind de chillun and even do a little wuk. For dat I do give thanks to de Good Lord--dat he keeps me able to do some wuk.

"Goodbye Chile," said Julia, when her visitor arose to leave. "You must be more keerful 'bout walkin' 'round when de sun is too hot. It'll make you sick sho'. Folks jus' don't know how to take de right sort of keer of deyselves dese days."

[HW: Dist. 5 Ex-Slave #67 E.F. Driskell 12/31/36]

[HW: GEORGE LEWIS] [Date Stamp: MAY 2- --]

Mr. George Lewis was born in Pensacola, Florida December 17, 1849. In addition to himself and his parents, Sophie and Charles Lewis, there were thirteen other children; two of whom were girls. Mr. Lewis (Geo.) was the third eldest child.

Although married Mr. Lewis' parents belonged to different owners. However, Dr. Brosenhan often allowed his servant to visit his wife on the plantation of her owner, Mrs. Caroline Bright.

In regard to work all of the members of the Lewis clan fared very well. The father, who belonged to Dr. Brosenhan, was a skilled shipbuilder and he was permitted to hire himself out to those needing his services. He was also allowed to hire [HW: out] those children belonging to him who were old enough to work. He was only required to pay his master and the mistress of his children a certain percent of his earnings. On the Bright plantation Mrs. Lewis served as maid and as part of her duties she had to help with the cooking. Mr. Lewis and his brothers and sisters were never required to do very much work. Most of their time was spent in playing around in the yard of the big house.

In answer to a query concerning the work requirements of the other slaves on this particular plantation Mr. Lewis replied "De sun would never ketch dem at de house. By de time it wus up dey had done got to de fiel'--not jes gwine. I've known men to have to wait till it wus bright enough to see how to plow without "kivering" the plants up. Dey lef' so early in de mornings dat breakfus' had to be sent to dem in de fiel'. De chillun was de ones who carried de meals dere. Dis was de first job dat I had. All de pails wus put on a long stick an' somebody hold to each end of de stick. If de fiel' hands was too far away fum de house at dinner time it was sent to dem de same as de breakfus'".

All of the slaves on the plantation were awakened each morning by a bugle or a horn which was blown by the overseer. The same overseer gave the signal for dinner hour by blowing on the same horn. All were usually given one hour for dinner. None had to do any work after leaving the fields unless it happened to be personal work. No work other than the caring for the stock was required on Sundays.

A few years before the Civil War Mrs. Bright married a Dr. Bennett Ferrel and moved to his home in Georgia (Troupe County).

Mr. Lewis states that he and his fellow slaves always had "pretty fair" food. Before they moved to Georgia the rations were issued daily and for the most part an issue consisted of vegetables, rice, beans, meat (pork), all kinds of fish and grits, etc.

"We got good clothes too says Mr. Lewis. All of 'em was bought. All de chillun wore a long shirt until dey wus too big an' den dey was given pants an' dresses. De shoes wus made out of red leather an' wus called brogans. After we moved to Georgia our new marster bought de cloth an' had all de clothes made on de plantation. De food wus "pretty fair" here too. We got corn bread an' biscuit sometimes--an' it was sometimes too--bacon, milk, all kinds of vegetables an' sicha stuff like dat. De flour dat we made de biscuits out of was de third grade shorts."

The food on Sunday was almost identical with that eaten during the week. However, those who desired to were allowed to hunt as much as they pleased to at night. They were not permitted to carry guns and so when the game was treed the tree had to be cut down in order to get it. It was in this way that the family larder was increased.

"All in all", says Mr. Lewis, "we got everything we wanted excep' dere wus no money comin' for our work an' we couldn't go off de place unless we asked. If you wus caught off your plantation without a permit fum marster de Paddy-Rollers whupped you an' sent you home."

The slaves living quarters were located in the rear of the "big house" (this was true of the plantation located in Pensacola as well as the one in Georgia). All were made of logs and, according to Mr. Lewis, all were substantially built. Wooden pegs were used in the place of nails and the cracks left in the walls were sealed with mud and sticks. These cabins were very comfortable and only one family was allowed to a cabin. All floors were of wood. The only furnishings were the beds and one or two benches or bales which served as chairs. In some respects these beds resembled a scaffold nailed to the side of a house. Others were made of heavy wood and had four legs to stand upon. For the most part, however, one end of the bed was nailed to the wall. The mattresses were made out of any kind of material that a slave could secure, burlap sacks, ausenberg, etc. After a large bag had been made with this material it was stuffed with straw. Heavy cord running from side to side was used for the bed springs. The end of the cord was tied to a handle at the end of the bed. This pemitted the occupant to tighten the cord when it became loosened. A few cooking utensils completed the furnishings. All illumination was secured by means of the door and the open fire place.

All of the slaves on the plantation were permitted to "frolic" whenever they wanted to and for as long a time as they wanted to. The master gave them all of the whiskey that they desired. One of the main times for a frolic was during a corn shucking. At each frolic there was dancing, fiddling, and eating. The next morning, however all had to be prepared to report as usual to the fields.

All were required to attend church each Sunday. The same church was used by the slave owners and their slaves. The owners attended church in the morning at eleven o'clock and the slaves attended at three o'clock. A white minister did all of the preaching. "De bigges' sermon he preached", says Mr. Lewis, "was to read de Bible an' den tell us to be smart an' not to steal chickens, eggs, an' butter, fum our marsters." All baptising was done by this selfsame minister.

When a couple wished to marry the man secured the permission of his intended wife's owner and if he consented, a broom was placed on the floor and the couple jumped over it and were then pronounced man and wife.

There was not a great deal of whipping on the plantation of Dr. Ferrel but at such times all whippings were administered by one of the overseers employed on the plantation. Mr. Lewis himself was only whipped once and then by the Doctor. This was just a few days before the slaves were freed. Mr. Lewis says that the doctor came to the field one morning and called him. He told him that they were going to be freed but that before he did free him he was going to let him see what it was like to be whipped by a white man, and he proceeded to paddle him with a white oak paddle.

When there was serious illness the slaves had the attention of Dr. Ferrel. On other occasions the old remedy of castor oil and turpentine was administered. There was very little sickness then according to Mr. Lewis. Most every family kept a large pot of "Bitters" (a mixture of whiskey and tree barks) and each morning every member of the family took a drink from this bucket. This supposedly prevented illness.

When the war broke out Mr. Lewis says that he often heard the old folks whispering among themselves at night. Several times he saw the Northern troops as well as the Southern troops but he dos'nt know whether they were going or coming from the scene of the fighting. Doctor Ferrel joined the army but on three different occasions he deserted. Before going to war Dr. Ferrel called Mr. Lewis to him and after giving him his favorite horse gave him the following "charge" "Don't let the Yankees get him". Every morning Mr. Lewis would take the horse to the woods where he hid with him all day. On several occasions Dr. Ferrel slipped back to his home to see if the horse was being properly cared for. All of the other valuables belongings to the Ferrels were hidden also.

All of the slaves on the plantation were glad when they were told that they were free but there was no big demonstration as they were somewhat afraid of what the Master might do. Some of them remained on the plantation while others of them left as soon as they were told that they were free.

Several months after freedom was declared Mr. Lewis' father was able to join his family which he had not seen since they had moved to Georgia.

When asked his opinion of slavery and of freedom Mr. Lewis said that he would rather be free because to a certain degree he is able to do as he pleases, on the other hand he did not have to worry about food and shelter as a slave as he has to do now at times.

INTERVIEW WITH: MIRRIAM McCOMMONS, Age 76 164 Augusta Avenue Athens, Georgia

Written by: Miss Grace McCune Research Worker Athens, Georgia

Edited by: Mrs. Sarah H. Hall Athens

John N. Booth District Supervisor Augusta, Georgia [Date Stamp: APR 29 1938]

It was a bright sunny day when the interviewer stopped at the home of Aunt Merry, as she is called, and found her tending her old-fashioned flower garden. The old Negress was tired and while resting she talked of days long passed and of how things have changed since she was "a little gal."

"My pa wuz William Young, and he belonged to old Marse Wylie Young and later to young Marse Mack Young, a son of old marster. Pa wuz born in 1841, and he died in 1918.

"Ma wuz Lula Lumpkin, and she belonged to Marse Jack Lumpkin. I forgits de year, but she wuz jus' 38 years old when she died. Ma's young mistis wuz Miss Mirriam Lumpkin, and she wuz sho' good ter my ma. I 'members, 'cause I seed her lots of times. She married Marse William Nichols, and she ain't been dead many years.

"I wuz born at Steebens (Stephens), Georgia, in 1862 at seben 'clock in de mornin' on de 27th day of April. Yassum, I got here in time for breakfast. Dey named me Mirriam Young. When I wuz 'bout eight years old, us moved on de Bowling Green road dat runs to Lexin'ton, Georgia. Us stayed dar 'til I wuz 'bout 10 years old, den us moved to de old Hutchins place. I wukked in de field wid my pa 'til I wuz 'bout 'leben years old. Den ma put me out to wuk. I wukked for 25 dollars a year and my schoolin'. Den I nussed for Marse George Rice in Hutchins, Georgia. I think Marse George and his twin sister stays in Lexin'ton now. When I wuz twelve, I went to wuk for Marse John I. Callaway. Ma hired me for de same pay, 25 dollars a year and my schoolin'.

"Missus Callaway sho' wuz good to me. Sha larnt me my books--readin' and writin'--and sewin', knittin', and crochetin'. I still got some of de wuk dat she larnt me to do." At this point Aunt Merry proudly displayed a number of articles that she had crocheted and knitted. All were fashioned after old patterns and showed fine workmanship. "Mistis larnt me to be neat and clean in evvything I done, and I would walk 'long de road a-knittin' and nebber miss a stitch. I just bet none of dese young folkses now days could do dat. Dey sho' don't do no wuk, just run 'round all de time, day and night. I don't know what'll 'come of 'em, lessen dey change deir ways.

"Whilst I wuz still nussin' Missis' little gal and baby boy dey went down to Buffalo Crick to stay, and dey give me a pretty gray mare. She wuz all mine and her name wuz Lucy.

"I tuk de chillun to ride evvy day and down at de crick, I pulled off dey clo'es and baptized 'em, in de water. I would wade out in de crick wid 'em, and say: 'I baptizes you in de name of de Fadder and de Son and de Holy Ghost.' Den I would souse 'em under de water. I didn't know nobody wuz seein' me, but one mornin' Missis axed me 'bout it and I thought she mought be mad but she just laughed and said dat hit mought be good for 'em, 'cause she 'spect dey needed baptizin', but to be keerful, for just on t'other side of de rock wuz a hole dat didn't have no bottom.

"Dere wuz just two things on de place dat I wuz 'fraid of, and one wuz de big registered bull dat Marster had paid so much money for. He sho' wuz bad, and when he got out, us all stayed in de house 'til dey cotched 'im. Marster had a big black stallion dat cost lots of money. He wuz bad too, but Marster kept 'im shut up most of de time. De wust I ever wuz skeert wuz de time I wuz takin' de baby to ride horseback. When one of de Nigger boys on de place started off on Marster's horse, my mare started runnin' and I couldn't stop 'er. She runned plumb away wid me, and when de boy cotched us, I wuz holdin' de baby wid one hand and de saddle wid t'other.

"I sho' did have a big time once when us went to Atlanta. De place whar us stayed wuz 'bout four miles out, whar Kirkwood is now, and it belonged to Mrs. Robert A. Austin. She wuz a widder 'oman. She had a gal name' Mary and us chillun used to play together. It wuz a pretty place wid great big yards, and de mostes' flowers. Us used to go into Atlanta on de six 'clock 'commodation, and come home on de two 'clock 'commodation, but evvythings changed now.

"At de Callaway place us colored folks had big suppers and all day dinners, wid plenty to eat--chicken, turkey, and 'possum, and all de hogs us wanted. But dere warnt no dancin' or fightin', 'cause old Missis sho' didn't 'low dat.

"I married when I wuz sebenteen. I didn't have no weddin'. I wuz just married by de preacher to Albert McCommons, at Hutchins. Us stayed at Steebens 'bout one year after us married and den come to Athens, whar I stays now. I ain't never had but two chillun; dey wuz twins, one died, but my boy is wid me now.

"I used to nuss Miss Calline Davis, and she done got married and left here, but I still hears from 'er. She done married one of dem northern mens, Mr. Hope. I 'members one time whilst dey wuz visitin' I stayed wid 'em to nuss deir baby. One of Mr. Hope's friends from New York wuz wid 'em. When dey got to de train to go home, Miss Calline kissed me good-bye and de yankee didn't know what to say. Miss Calline say de yankees 'low dat southern folks air mean to us Niggers and just beat us all de time. Dey just don't know 'cause my white folkses wuz all good to me, and I loves 'em all."

As the interviewer left, Aunt Merry followed her into the yard asking for a return visit and promising to tell more, "bout my good white folkses."

PLANTATION LIFE

As viewed by ED McCREE, Age 76 543 Reese Street Athens, Georgia

Written by: Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] Athens

Edited by: Sarah H. Hall Athens

Leila Harris Augusta

and John N. Booth District Supervisor Federal Writers' Project Residencies 6 & 7

Ed McCree's home was pointed out by a little albino Negro girl about 10 years old. The small front yard was gay with snapdragons, tiger lilies, dahlias, and other colorful flowers, and the two-story frame house, painted gray with white trimmings seemed to be in far better repair than the average Negro residence.

Chewing on a cud of tobacco, Ed answered the knock on his front door. "Good evenin' Lady," he said. "Have a cheer on de porch whar it's cool." Ed is about five feet, six inches in height, and on this afternoon he was wearing a blue striped shirt, black vest, gray pants and black shoes. His gray hair was topped by a soiled gray hat.

Nett, his wife, came hobbling out on the porch and sat down to listen to the conversation. At first the old man was reluctant to talk of his childhood experiences, but his interest was aroused by questioning and soon he began to eagerly volunteer his memories. He had just had his noon meal and now and then would doze a little, but was easily aroused when questions called him back to the subject.

"I was borned in Oconee County," he said, "jus' below Watkinsville. My Ma and Pa was Louisa and Henry McCree, but Old Marster called Pa 'Sherm' for short. Far as I ever heared, my Ma and Pa was borned and brung up right dar in Oconee County. Dere was six of us chillun: Silas, Lumpkin, Bennie, Lucy, Babe, and me. Babe, she was borned a long time atter de war.

"Little Niggers, what was too young to wuk in de fields, toted water to de field hands and waited on de old 'omans what was too old to wuk in de craps. Dem old 'omans looked atter de babies and piddled 'round de yards.

"Slave quarters was lots of log cabins wid chimlies of criss-crossed sticks and mud. Pore white folks lived in houses lak dat too. Our bed was made wid high posties and had cords, what run evvy which a-way, for springs. 'Course dey had to be wound tight to keep dem beds from fallin' down when you tried to git in 'em. For mattresses, de 'omans put wheat straw in ticks made out of coarse cloth wove right dar on de plantation, and de pillows was made de same way. Ole Miss, she let her special favorite Niggers, what wuked up at de big house, have feather mattresses and pillows. Dem other Niggers shined dey eyes over dat, but dere warn't nothin' dey could do 'bout it 'cept slip 'round and cut dem feather beds and pillows open jus' to see de feathers fly. Kivver was 'lowanced out evvy year to de ones what needed it most. In dat way dere was allus good kivver for evvybody.

"Grandma Liza b'longed to Marse Calvin Johnson long 'fore Marse John McCree buyed her. She was cook at de big house. Grandpa Charlie, he b'longed to Marse Charlie Hardin, but atter him and Grandma married, she still went by de name of McCree.

"Lawdy Miss! Who ever heared of folks payin' slaves to wuk? Leastwise, I never knowed 'bout none of 'em on our place gittin' money for what dey done. 'Course dey give us plenty of somepin' t'eat and clothes to wear, and den dey made us keep a-humpin' it. I does 'member seein' dem paper nickels, dimes, and quarters what us chillun played wid atter de war. Us used to pretend us was rich wid all dat old money what warn't no good den.

"'Bout dem eatments, Miss, it was lek dis, dere warn't no fancy victuals lak us thinks us got to have now, but what dere was, dere was plenty of. Most times dere was poke sallet, turnip greens, old blue head collards, cabbages, peas, and 'taters by de wholesale for de slaves to eat and, onct a week, dey rationed us out wheat bread, syrup, brown sugar, and ginger cakes. What dey give chillun de most of was potlicker poured over cornbread crumbs in a long trough. For fresh meat, outside of killin' a shoat, a lamb, or a kid now and den, slaves was 'lowed to go huntin' a right smart and dey fotch in a good many turkles (turtles), 'possums, rabbits, and fish. Folks didn't know what iron cookstoves was dem days. Leastwise, our white folks didn't have none of 'em. All our cookin' was done in open fireplaces in big old pots and pans. Dey had thick iron skillets wid heavy lids on 'em, and dey could bake and fry too in dem skillets. De meats, cornbread, biscuits, and cakes what was cooked in dem old skillets was sho' mighty good.

"De cotton, flax, and wool what our clothes was made out of was growed, spun, wove, and sewed right dar on our plantation. Marse John had a reg'lar seamster what didn't do nothin' else but sew. Summertime us chillun wore shirts what looked lak nightgowns. You jus' pulled one of dem slips over your haid and went on 'cause you was done dressed for de whole week, day and night. Wintertime our clothes was a heap better. Dey give us thick jeans pants, heavy shirts, and brogan shoes wid brass toes. Summertime us all went bar'foots.

"Old Marster John McCree was sho' a good white man, I jus' tells you de truf, 'cause I ain't in for tellin' nothin' else. I done jus' plum forgot Ole Miss' fust name, and I can't git up de chilluns' names no way. I didn't play 'round wid 'em much nohow. Dey was jus' little young chillun den anyhow. Dey lived in a big old plank house--nothin' fine 'bout it. I 'members de heavy timbers was mortised together and de other lumber was put on wid pegs; dere warn't no nails 'bout it. Dat's all I ricollects 'bout dat dere house right now. It was jus' a common house, I'd say.

"Dere was a thousand or more acres in dat old plantation. It sho' was a big piece of land, and it was plumb full of Niggers--I couldn't say how many, 'cause I done forgot. You could hear dat bugle de overseer blowed to wake up de slaves for miles and miles. He got 'em up long 'fore sunup and wuked 'em in de fields long as dey could see how to wuk. Don't talk 'bout dat overseer whuppin' Niggers. He beat on 'em for most anything. What would dey need no jail for wid dat old overseer a-comin' down on 'em wid dat rawhide bull-whup?

"If dey got any larnin', it was at night. Dere warn't no school 'ouse or no church on dat plantation for Niggers. Slaves had to git a pass when dey wanted to go to church. Sometimes de white preacher preached to de Niggers, but most of de time a Nigger wid a good wit done de preachin'. Dat Nigger, he sho' couldn't read nary a word out of de Bible. At de baptizin's was when de Nigger boys shined up to de gals. Dey dammed up de crick to make de water deep enough to duck 'em under good and, durin' de service, dey sung: _It's de Good Old Time Religion_.

"When folks died den, Niggers for miles and miles around went to de funeral. Now days dey got to know you mighty well if dey bothers to go a t'all. Dem days folks was buried in homemade coffins. Some of dem coffins was painted and lined wid cloth and some warn't. De onliest song I ricollects 'em singin' at buryin's was: _Am I Born to Lay Dis Body Down_? Dey didn't dig graves lak dey does now. Dey jus' dug straight down to 'bout five feet, den dey cut a vault to fit de coffin in de side of de grave. Dey didn't put no boards or nothin' over de coffins to keep de dirt off.

"'Bout dem patterollers! Well, you knowed if dey cotched you out widout no pass, dey was gwine to beat your back most off and send you on home. One night my Pa 'lowed he would go to see his gal. All right, he went. When he got back, his cabin door was fastened hard and fast. He was a-climbin' in de window when de patterollers got to him. Dey 'lowed: 'Nigger, is you got a pass?' Pa said: 'No Sir.' Den dey said: 'Us can't beat you 'cause you done got home on your marster's place, but us is sho' gwine to tell your Marster to whup your hide off. But Old Marster never tetched him for dat.

"Atter dey come in from de fields, dem Niggers et deir supper, went to deir cabins, sot down and rested a little while, and den dey drapped down on de beds to sleep. Dey didn't wuk none Sadday atter dinner in de fields. Dat was wash day for slave 'omans. De mens done fust one thing and den another. Dey cleant up de yards, chopped wood, mended de harness, sharpened plow points, and things lak dat. Sadday nights, Old Marster give de young folks passes so dey could go from one place to another a-dancin' and a-frolickin' and havin' a big time gen'ally. Dey done most anything dey wanted to on Sundays, so long as dey behaved deyselfs and had deir passes handy to show if de patterollers bothered 'em.

"Yessum, slaves sho' looked forward to Christmas times. Dere was such extra good eatin's dat week and so much of 'em. Old Marster had 'em kill a plenty of shoats, lambs, kids, cows, and turkeys for fresh meat. De 'omans up at de big house was busy for a week ahead cookin' peach puffs, 'tater custards, and plenty of cakes sweetened wid brown sugar and syrup. Dere was plenty of home-made candy for de chilluns' Santa Claus and late apples and peaches had done been saved and banked in wheat straw to keep 'em good 'til Christmas. Watermelons was packed away in cottonseed and when dey cut 'em open on Christmas Dey, dey et lak fresh melons in July. Us had a high old time for a week, and den on New Year's Day dey started back to wuk.

"Come winter, de mens had big cornshuckin's and dere was quiltin's for de 'omans. Dere was a row of corn to be shucked as long as from here to Milledge Avenue. Old Marster put a gang of Niggers at each end of de row and it was a hot race 'tween dem gangs to see which could git to de middle fust. Dere was allus a big feast waitin' for 'em when de last ear of corn was shucked. 'Bout dem quiltin's!" Now Lady, what would a old Nigger man know 'bout somepin' dat didn't nothin' but 'omans have nothin' to do wid?

"Dem cotton pickin's was grand times. Dey picked cotton in de moonlight and den had a big feast of barbecued beef, mutton, and pork washed down wid plenty of good whiskey. Atter de feast was over, some of dem Niggers played fiddles and picked banjoes for de others to dance down 'til dey was wore out.

"When slaves got sick, our white folks was mighty good 'bout havin' 'em keered for. Dey dosed 'em up wid oil and turpentine and give 'em teas made out of hoarhound for some mis'ries and bone-set for other troubles. Most all the slaves wore a sack of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir necks all de time to keep 'em from gittin' sick.

"It was a happy day for us slaves when news come dat de war was over and de white folks had to turn us 'loose. Marster called his Niggers to come up to de big house yard, but I never stayed 'round to see what he had to say. I runned 'round dat place a-shoutin' to de top of my voice. My folks stayed on wid Old Marster for 'bout a year or more. If us had left, it would have been jus' lak swappin' places from de fryin' pan to de fire, 'cause Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid for a long time atter de war. Schools was soon scattered 'bout by dem Yankees what had done sot us free. I warn't big enough den to do nothin' much 'cept tote water to de field and chop a little cotton.

"Me and Nettie Freeman married a long time atter de war. At our weddin' I wore a pair of brown jeans pants, white shirt, white vest, and a cutaway coat. Nettie wore a black silk dress what she had done bought from Miss Blanche Rutherford. Pears lak to me it had a overskirt of blue what was scalloped 'round de bottom."

At this point, Nettie, who had been an interested listener, was delighted. She broke into the conversation with: "Ed, you sho' did take in dat dress and you ain't forgot it yit."

"You is right 'bout dat, Honey," he smilingly replied, "I sho' ain't and I never will forgit how you looked dat day."

"Miss Blanche give me a pair of white silk gloves to wear wid dat dress," mused Nettie.

"Us didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'," continued Ed. "Us jus' went off to de preacher man's house and got married up together. I sho' is glad my Nett is still a-livin', even if she is down wid de rheumatiz."

"I'm glad I'm livin' too," Nettie said with a chuckle.

Ed ignored the question as to the number of their children and Nettie made no attempt to take further part in the conversation. There is a deep seated idea prevalent among old people of this type that if the "giver'ment folks" learn that they have able-bodied children, their pensions and relief allowances will be discontinued.

Soon Ed was willing to talk again. "Yessum," he said. "I sho' had ruther be free. I don't never want to be a slave no more. Now if me and Nett wants to, us can set around and not fix and eat but one meal all day long. If us don't want to do dat, us can do jus' whatsomever us pleases. Den, us had to wuk whether us laked it or not.

"Lordy Miss, I ain't never jined up wid no church. I ain't got no reason why, only I jus' ain't never had no urge from inside of me to jine. 'Course, you know, evvybody ought to lissen to de services in de church and live right and den dey wouldn't be so skeered to die. Miss, ain't you through axin' me questions yit? I is so sleepy, and I don't know no more to tell you. Goodbye."

[HW: Dist. 1 Ex Slave #68]

EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW: LUCY McCULLOUGH, Age 79

BY: SARAH H. HALL ATHENS, GA. [Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]

[TR: This first half of this interview was edited by hand to change many 'er' sounds to 'uh', for example, 'der' to 'duh', 'ter' to 'tuh'; as a single word, 'er' was also changed to 'a'.]

"Does Ah 'member 'bout war time, en dem days fo' de war? Yassum, Ah sho' does. Ah blong ter Marse Ned Carter in Walton county."

"Whut Ah 'members mos' is duh onliest beatin' Ah ebber got fum de overseer on Marse Ned's place. De hawgs wuz dyin' moughty bad wid cholry, en Marse Ned hed 'is mens drag evvy dead hawg off in de woods 'en bun 'em up ter keep de cholry fum spreadin' mongst de udder hawgs. De mens wuz keerless 'bout de fire, en fo' long de woods wuz on fire, en de way dat fire spread in dem dry grape vines in de woods mek it 'peer lak jedgment day tuh us chilluns. Us run 'bout de woods lookin' at de mens fight de fire, en evvy time we see uh new place a-blaze we run dis way en dat way, twel fus' thing us knows, we is plum off Marse Ned's plantation, en us doan rightly know whar us is. Us play 'roun' in de woods en arter while Marse Ned's overseer cum fine us, en he druv us back tuh de big house yahd en give evvy one uv us uh good beaten'. Ah sho' wuz black en blue, en Ah nebber did fuhgit en run offen Marse Ned's lan' no mo' lessen I hed uh pass."

"Mah mammy, she wuz cook at duh big house, en Ah wuz raised dah in de kitchen en de back yahd at de big house. Ah wuz tuh be uh maid fer de ladies in de big house. De house servants hold that dey is uh step better den de field niggers. House servants wuz niggah quality folks."

Ah mus' not a been mo' en thee uh fo' yeahs ole when Miss Millie cum out in de kitchen one day, en 'gin tuh scold my mammy 'bout de sorry way mammy done clean de chitlins. Ah ain' nebber heard nobuddy fuss et my mammy befo'. Little ez Ah wuz, Ah swell up en rar' back, en I sez tuh Miss Millie, "Doan you no' Mammy is boss uh dis hyar kitchen. You cyan' cum a fussin' in hyar." "Miss Millie, she jus laff, but Mammy grab a switch en 'gin ticklin' my laigs, but Miss Millie mek her quit it." "Who wuz Miss Millie? Why, she wuz Marse Ned's wife."

"Whilst Marse Ned wuz 'way at de war, bad sojer mens cum thoo de country. Miss Millie done hyar tell dey wuz on de way, an she had de mens haul all Marse Ned's cotton off in de woods en hide it. De waggins wuz piled up high wid cotton, en de groun' wuz soft atter de rain. De waggins leff deep ruts in de groun', but none us folks on de plantation pay no heed ter dem ruts. When de sojer mens cum, dey see dem ruts en trail 'em right out dar in de woods ter de cotton. Den dey sot fire ter de cotton en bun it all up. Dey cum back ter de big house en take all de sweet milk in de dairy house, en help 'emselfs ter evvy thing in de smoke houses. Den dey pick out de stronges' er Marse Ned's slave mens en take 'em 'way wid 'em. Dey take evvy good horse Marse Ned had on de plantation. No Ma'am, dey diden' bun nuffin ceppen' de cotton."

"Us wuz mo' skeered er patter-rollers den any thing else. Patter-rollers diden' bodder folks much, lessen dey caught 'em offen dar marsters plantations en dey diden' hab no pass. One night en durin' de war, de patter-rollers cum ter our cabin, en I scrooge down under de kiver in de bed. De patter-roller man tho' de kiver offen mah face, en he see me blong dar, en he let me be, but Ah wuz skeered plumb ter death. Courtin' folks got ketched en beat up by de patter-rollers mo' den enny buddy else, kazen dey wuz allus slippen' out fer ter meet one er nudder at night."

"When folks dat lived on diffunt plantations, en blonged ter diffunt marsters wanted ter git married, dey hed ter ax both dar marsters fus'. Den effen dar marsters 'gree on it, dey let 'em marry. De mans marster 'ud give de man er pass so he cud go see his wife et night, but he sho' better be back on his own marsters farm when de bell ring evvy morning. De chilluns 'ud blong ter de marster dat own de 'oman."

"Black folks wuz heap smarter den dey is now. Dem days de 'omans knowed how ter cyard, en spin, en weave de cloff, en dey made de close. De mens know how ter mek shoes ter wear den. Black folks diden' hev ter go cole er hongry den, kaze dey marsters made 'em wuk en grow good crops, en den der marsters fed 'em plenty en tuk keer uv 'em."

"Black folks wuz better folks den dey is now. Dey knowed dey hed ter be good er dey got beat. De gals dey diden't sho' dare laigs lak dey do now. Cloff hed ter be made den, en hit wuz er heap mo' trouble ter mek er yahd er cloff, den it is ter buy it now, but 'omans en gals, dey stayed kivvered up better den. Why, Ah 'member one time my mammy seed me cummin' crost de yahd en she say mah dress too short. She tuk it offen me, en rip out de hem, en ravel at de aig' er little, en den fus' thing I knows, she got dat dress tail on ter de loom, en weave more cloff on hit, twel it long enuf, lak she want it."