Chapter III: Part 3

"I belonged to Col. Bun Eden. His plantation wus in Warren County an' he owned 'bout fifty slaves or more. Dere wus so many of 'em dere he did not know all his own slaves. We got mighty bad treatment an' I jest wants to tell you a nigger didn't stan' as much show dere as a dog did. Dey whupped fur mos' any little trifle. Dey whupped me, so dey said, jes to help me git a quicker gait. De patterollers come sneakin' round often an' whupped niggers on marster's place. Dey nearly killed my uncle. Dey broke his collar bone when dey wus beatin him an marster made 'em pay for it 'cause uncle never did git over it.

"Marster would not have any white overseers. He had nigger foremen. Ha! ha! he liked some of de nigger 'omans too good to have any udder white man playin' aroun' 'em.

"We wurked all day an some of de night an' a slave who made a week, even atter doin dat, wus lucky if he got off widout gettin' a beatin. We had poor food an' de young slaves wus fed outen troughs. De food wus put in a trough an de little niggers gathered round an' et. Our cabins wus built of poles an had stick an dirt chimleys one door an one little winder at de back end of de cabin. Some of de houses had dirt floors. Our clothin' was poor an homemade.

"Many of de slaves went bareheaded an barefooted. Some wore rags roun dere heads an some wore bonnets. Marster lived in de great house. He did not do any work but drank a lot of whiskey, went dressed up all de time an had niggers to wash his feet an comb his hair. He made me scratch his head when he lay down so he could go to sleep. When he got to sleep I would slip out. If he waked up when I started to leave I would have to go back an' scratch his head till he went to sleep agin. Sometimes I had to fan de flies way from him while he slept. No prayer-meetings wus allowed, but we sometimes went to de white folks church. Dey tole us to obey our marsters an be obedient at all times. When bad storms come dey let us rest but dey kept us in de fields so long sometimes dat de storm caught us 'fore we could git to de cabins. Niggers watched de wedder in slavery time an de ole ones wus good at prophesyin' de wedder.

"Marster had no chilluns by white women. He had his sweethearts 'mong his slave women. I ain't no man for tellin false stories. I tells de truth an dat is de truth. At dat time it wus a hard job to find a marster dat didn't have women 'mong his slaves. Dat wus a ginerel thing 'mong de slave owners.

"One of de slave girls on a plantation near us went to her missus an tole her 'bout her marster forcing her to let him have sumthin to do wid her an her missus tole her, 'Well go on you belong to him.'

"Another marster named Jimmie Shaw owned a purty slave gal nearly white an he kept her. His wife caught 'im in a cabin in bed wid her. His wife said sumthin to him 'bout it an' he cussed his wife. She tole him she had caught him in de act. She went back to de great house an got a gun. When de marster come in de great house she tole 'im he must let de slave girls alone dat he belonged to her. He cussed her agin an sed she would have to tend to her own dam business an' he would tend to his. Dey had a big fuss an den marster Shaw started towards her. She grabbed de gun an let him have it. She shot 'im dead in de hall. Dey had three chillun, two sons an one married daughter. Missus Shaw took her two sons an' left. De married daughter an her husband took charge of de place. Missus an her sons never come back as I knows of.

"A lot of de slave owners had certain strong healthy slave men to serve de slave women. Ginerally dey give one man four women an' dat man better not have nuthin' to do wid de udder women an' de women better not have nuthin to do wid udder men. De chillun wus looked atter by de ole slave women who were unable to work in de fields while de mothers of de babies worked. De women plowed an done udder work as de men did. No books or larnin' of any kind wus allowed.

"One mornin' de dogs begun to bark an' in a few minutes the plantation wus kivered wid Yankees. Dey tole us we wus free. Dey axed me whur marster's things wus hid. I tole 'em I could not give up marster's things. Dey tole me I had no marster dat dey had fighted four years to free us an' dat marster would not whup me no more. Marster sent to de fields an' had all de slaves to come home. He told me to tell 'em not to run but to fly to de house at once. All plow hands an' women come running home. De Yankees tole all of 'em dey wus free.

"Marster offered some of de Yankees sumtin to eat in his house but dey would not eat cooked food, dey said dey wanted to cook dere own food.

"I saw slaves sold in slavery time. I saw 'em whupped an many ran away. Some never come back. When we wus sick we took lots of erbs an roots. I married Roberta Edwards fifty-one years ago. We had six sons and three daughters. Atter the war I farmed around from one plantation to another. I have never owned a home of my own. When I got too ole to work I come an' lived wid my married daughter in Raleigh. I been here four years. I think slavery wus a mighty bad thing, though it's been no bed of roses since, but den no one could whup me no mo."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 1060 Subject: ROBERTA MANSON Person Interviewed: Roberta Manson Editor: G.L. Andrews

ROBERTA MANSON

317 N. Haywood Street, Raleigh, N.C. Age 74.

"I wus borned de second year of de war an' de mos' I know 'bout slavery wus tole to me by other colored folks. My marster wus Weldon Edwards and my missus wus Missus Lucy. The plantation wus in Warren County near Ridgeway. My father wus named Lanis Edwards and my mother wus named Ellen Edwards. They both 'longed to Weldon Edwards. Father and mother said he wus mighty rough to 'em. I heard my mother say dat marster whupped father so bad dat she had to grease his back to git his shirt off.

"Marster allowed de overseers to whup de slaves. De overseers wus named Caesar Norfeir, Jim Trissel, and David Porter.

"Dere wus a ole man dere by de name of Harris Edwards who fed up the hogs an' things. He wus sick an' he kept him sick. Well after awhile de ole marster tried to make him work. De overseers den took him out way down in the plum orchard. Dey pulled his tongue out an whupped him. He died an' wus found by de buzzards. De overseers wus named Jim Trissel an David Porter dat did dat. Dis ole slave 'longed to missus; and when she found it out dere wus a awful fuss. One of de white overseers tried to put it off on de udder. It finally fell on Jim Trissel and dey soon got rid of him. Missus tole him, 'you have killed my poor ole sick servant.' Mr. Jim Trissel killed several slaves an dey wus shore 'fraid of him. He knocked my father down wid a stick an when he fell my father knocked his hip out of place. Dey whupped father 'cause he looked at a slave dey killed an cried.

"Dey didn't allow no prayermeetings or parties in de houses. No books in de houses. No books or papers, no edication.

"Some of de owners when dey knowed freedom wus commin' dey treated de slaves wusser den ever before. De ole men an women dat wus unable to work wus neglected till dey died or was killed by beatin' or burnin'. Col. Skipper did dat thing. He lived near Clarksville, Va. He put a lot of ole men an women on a island in the Roanoke River. De river rose an stayed up eighteen days an dey parished to death. Dey were sent dere when sick and dey died. Mr. Skipper had over two hundred slaves. He wus one of the richest men in the south and Mr. Nick Long wus another rich man. Nick Long owned de plantation now known as the Caledonia State's Prison Farm. Gen. Ransom's plantation wus a part of de land 'longing to the Caledonia State Prison Farm now. It joined Nick Long's plantation.

"Father and mother had bad fare, poor food, clothes an shoes. Dey didn't sift slave meal. Dey had no sifters. Sometimes de collards and peas was not cleaned 'fore cookin'. Dey said de more slaves a man had de wusser he wus to slaves. Marster had dirt floors in de cabins. Dey slept on straw bunks made outen baggin' and straw. Some slept on wheat, straw an' shucks an' covered wid baggin.

"Ole man Mat Bullock, a negro slave, an' his mother Ella an' grandmother Susan, also slaves, froze to death. Mat Bullock the son of Ole man Mat Bullock tole me this. Dese slaves 'longed to Jim Bullock who's plantation wus near Townsville, N.C.

"Weldon Edwards who owned father and mother had a whuppin post an dey said dey whupped ole man Jack Edwards to death 'cause he went to see his sick wife. He crawled from de whuppin post to de house atter bein whupped and died. Dey tole him 'fore dey whupped him dat dey wus goin to stop him from runnin' away. Families wus broken up by sellin'. Dey couldn't sell a slave dat wus skinned up. Aunt Millie, Agie, Gracy and Lima wus sold from the Edwards family. Aunt Millie cried so much cause she had to leave her young baby dat dey talked of whuppin her, ut den dey say 'we cannot sell her if we whup her an' so dey carried her on. Mother sed Marster Weldon Edwards sole four women away from dere young chilluns at one time.

"We lived in log cabins with dirt floors, one door, and one small winder at de back. De cabins had stick an dirt chimbleys.

"When freedom come mother and father stayed on wid marster cause dey didn't have nuthin. Dey couldn't leave. Dey farmed for shares. Next year the overseer who had beat father so bad come atter him to go an work with him. It wus Mr. David Porter. I axed pa ain't dat de man who beat you so when you wus a slave? An pa say, 'you shet your mouth.' He stayed with Mr. Porter two years den we went to Mr. William Paschal's. We stayed there four years. Endurin' the next fifteen years we moved a good many times. We farmed round and round an' finally went to Mr. Peter Wyms' place near where I wus borned.

"I wus married there to Jack Manson, 52 years ago in January. I had eight chilluns five girls an' three boys. Three are living now. One boy and two girls. Two of the chilluns are in N.C. and one, a girl, is in Virginia.

"I think slavery wus a bad thing but when freedom come there wus nuthin' else we could do but stay on wid some of de white folks 'cause we had nuthin to farm wid an nuthin to eat an wear.

"De men who owned de plantations had to have somebody to farm dere lan' an' de slaves had to have somewhur to stay. Dats de way it wus, so if dere wus a lot of movin' about de exslaves kept doin de wurk cause dat's de only way dey had to keep from perishin'. De marsters needed 'em to farm dere lan' an' de exslaves just had to have somewhur to live so both parties kept stayin' an' wurkin together.

"De nigger made mos' dey has out of workin' fer white folks since de war 'cause dey didn't have nuthin' when set free an dat is all dere is to it."

N.C. District: 2 Worker: Travis Jordan No. Words: 700 Subject: MILLIE MARKHAM'S STORY Interviewed: Millie Markham 615 St. Joseph St., Durham, N.C.

[TR: Date stamp: JUN 1 1937]

EX-SLAVE STORY AS TOLD BY MILLIE MARKHAM OF 615 ST. JOSEPH ST., DURHAM, N.C.

"I was never a slave. Although I was born somewhere about 1855, I was not born in slavery, but my father was. I'm afraid this story will be more about my father and mother than it will be about myself.

"My mother was a white woman. Her name was Tempie James. She lived on her father's big plantation on the Roanoke River at Rich Square, North Carolina. Her father owned acres of land and many slaves. His stables were the best anywhere around; they were filled with horses, and the head coachman was named Squire James. Squire was a good looking, well behaved Negro who had a white father. He was tall and light colored. Tempie James fell in love with this Negro coachman. Nobody knows how long they had been in love before Tempie's father found it out, but when he did he locked Tempie in her room. For days he and Miss Charlottie, his wife, raved, begged and pleaded, but Tempie just said she loved Squire. 'Why will you act so?' Miss Charlottie was crying. 'Haven't we done everything for you and given you everything you wanted?'

"Tempie shook her head and said: 'You haven't given me Squire. He's all I do want.'

"Then it was that in the dark of the night Mr. James sent Squire away; he sent him to another state and sold him.

"But Tempie found it out. She took what money she could find and ran away. She went to the owner of Squire and bought him, then she set him free and changed his name to Walden Squire Walden. But then it was against the law for a white woman to marry a Negro unless they had a strain of Negro blood, so Tempie cut Squire's finger and drained out some blood. She mixed this with some whiskey and drank it, then she got on the stand and swore she had Negro blood in her, so they were married. She never went back home and her people disowned her.

"Tempie James Walden, my mother, was a beautiful woman. She was tall and fair with long light hair. She had fifteen children, seven boys and eight girls, and all of them lived to be old enough to see their great-grandchildren. I am the youngest and only one living now. Most of us came back to North Carolina. Two of my sisters married and came back to Rich Square to live. They lived not far from the James plantation on Roanoke River. Once when we were children my sister and I were visiting in Rich Square. One day we went out to pick huckleberries. A woman came riding down the road on a horse. She was a tall woman in a long grey riding habit. She had grey hair and grey eyes. She stopped and looked at us. 'My,' she said, 'whose pretty little girls are you?'

"'We're Squire Walden's children,' I said.

"She looked at me so long and hard that I thought she was going to hit me with her whip, but she didn't, she hit the horse. He jumped and ran so fast I thought she was going to fall off, but she went around the curve and I never saw her again. I never knew until later that she was Mis' Charlottie James, my grandmother.

"I don't know anything about slavery times, for I was born free of free parents and raised on my father's own plantation. I've been living in Durham over sixty-five years."

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 680 Subject: A SLAVERY STORY Story teller: MAGGIE MIALS Editor: George L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: SEP 10 1937]

MAGGIE MIALS 73 years old, of 202 Maple Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.

"I'll never forgit de day when de Yankees come through Johnston County.

"I belonged to Tom Demaye an' ole missus in slavery time wus named Liza.

"De Demayes lived in Raleigh when I wus born, so mother tole me, but dey moved to a place near Smithfield. He had 'bout a dozen slaves. We had little cabins to live in, but marster had a big house to live in that set in a grove. De food I got wus good because I was a pet in de family. My mother was a cook an' a pet. My marster wus good to all of us an' I fared better den dan I do now. Ole marster thought de world of me and I loved him. Marster allowed his slaves to visit, have prayer meetings, hunt, fish, an' sing and have a good time when de work wus done. Some of de slave owners did not like marster cause he wus so good to his slaves. They called us 'Ole Man Demayes damn free niggers.' I don't know my age zackly but I was a big gal, big enough to drag a youngin roun' when de Yankees come through. I wus six years old if no older.

"When de Yankees come dey called us to de wagons an' tole us we wus free. Dey give each of us a cap full of hard-tack. Dey took clothes an' provisions an' give us nothin'. One crowd of Yankees would come on an' give us something an' another would come along an' take it away from us. Dey tole us to call marster an' missus Johnny Rebs, that we wus free an' had no marsters. Dat wus a day for me. Some of de Yankees wus ridin', some walkin', an' some runnin'. Dey took de feather beds in marsters house to de windows, cut dem open an' let de feathers blow away. It wus a sad time to me 'cause dey destroyed so much of marster's stuff.

"After de Yankees left we stayed right on with marster a long time, den we moved away to other members of de family. Mother would not give up de family an' she an' daddy stayed wid dem as long as dey lived. I love de family now an' I rather be livin' wid 'em den like I is. Dere is only a few of de younger set of de Demayes livin'. Ole marster an' missus' had three boys, Sye, Lee, Zoa; girls, Vick, Correna and Phidelia, six chilluns in all. Dey is all dead but I can't never forgit 'em if I live to be a hundred years ole.

"I tries to live right before God an' man cause I knows I haint got much longer on dis earth. I knows I got to lay down sometime to rise no more till Judgment Day, den I wants to meet ole marster, missus an' de family in dat country where dere'll be no more goodbyes.

"I was married at twenty years ole to Theodore Miles at de ole Mack Powell place near de Neuse River, in Wake County. I wus hired as a house girl at dis place wid Mr. Alango Miles family. Dey wus some of de Demaye family. I had ten chillun, four boys an' six girls. Six of my chillun are livin' now. Two boys an' four girls. My husband been dead 'bout 16 years. He died in Oct. 1921. Buried on de third Sunday in October.

"I have farmed most of my life an' have raised a big family. Sometimes we wus hongry an' sometimes we had plenty. None of my chilluns wus never arrested an' none ever went to prison. I thinks dats something to knock on wood about.

"Slavery was a good thing by all niggers who happened to have good marsters. De owners wus to blame for slavery gettin' such a bad reputation. Some of 'em jus' done a little too much an' sich caused de war an' give de niggers freedom. Slavery wus good for some an' bad for others."

EH

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary Hicks No. Words: 344 Subject: Ex-Slave Story Teller: Anna Mitchel Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

ANNA MITCHEL Ex-slave story.

An interview with Anna Mitchel, 76 of 712 S. Person Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.

"I wus borned in Vance County an' I 'longed ter Mr. Joseph Hargrove, de same man what owned Emily an' Rufus Hargrove, my mammy an' pappy. He also owned Joseph an' Cora, my bruder an' sister. My mammy uster 'long ter 'nother man what lived in Virginia, but Mr. Hargrove buyed her when she wus sold on de choppin' block at Richmon'. He already had my pappy so dey got married dar on his plantation.

"Marster ain't neber whup nobody, case he am too much de gentleman, but de oberseer done nuff fer 'em all.

"Dar wasn't no Sadday evenin's off 'cept fer de wimen what had eight or ten chilluns an' dey got off ter wash 'em up. In de rush time, dat is, when de fodder wus burnin' up in de fiel's or de grass wus eatin' up de cotton dey had ter wuck on Sunday same as on Monday.

"My mammy wus a seamstress, an' I'se knowed her ter wuck all night an' half de day ter make clothes fer de slaves.

"We ain't had but two meals a day an' dey wus scant. We had a few frolicks, dances an' sich lak onct in a while an' onct a year we all went ter a show, sorter lak a circus.

"I 'members dat we sung 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot,' 'De Promised Lan',' 'Ole Time Religion,' an' one dat goes:

"'Dark wus de night an' col' de groun'
On which my Saviour lay,
An' sweat lak drops of blood run down
While ter de God he pray.'

"Dar wus a few mo' but I done fergit.

"Does you know dat I can't 'member much 'bout de slave days? I doan recoleck when de Yankees comed, mebbe dey ain't come ter our part o' de country. I 'members when Marse Joseph comed out ter de slave cabins an' tells us dat we can leave case we am free. I think dat dat wus de las' of August, case de fodder wus in.

"I still knows a lady an' gentleman do'. A lady or gentleman speaks nice ter you, case dey wus borned wid a silver spoon in dey mouth, but de other kin' what talks biggety shows plain dat de spoons which dey am borned wid am brass."

EH

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 1,474 Subject: A SLAVE STORY Reference: Patsy Mitchner Editor: George L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: JUL 24 1937]

PATSY MITCHNER 84 years old, of 432 McKee Street, Raleigh, N.C.

"Come right in, honey, I been expectin' some of you white folks a long time from what I dreampt an' I wants to tell you my story. You see I is umble an' perlite 'cause my white folks teached me dat way.

"Come right in, I'm not feelin' well. My husban' has been dead a long time. I cannot stan' up to talk to you so have a seat.

"I belonged to Alex Gorman, a paper man. He printed the 'Spirit of the Age,' a newspaper. I reckon you can find it in the Museum. I reckons dey keeps all way back yonder things in dere jest to remember by. He had a lot of printers both black an' white. De slaves turned de wheels de most of de time, an' de white mens done de printin'. Dere wus a big place dug out at each side of de machine. One man pulled it to him an' de other pulled it to him. Dey wurked it wid de han's. It wus a big wheel. Dey didn't have no printers den like dey got now.

"De ole printin' place is standin' now. It stands in front of de laundry on Dawson Street, where a lot of red wagons stan's goin' up towards the bus station. De ole buildin' wid stairsteps to go up. Dey sot de type upstairs an' de machine wus on de groun' floor.

"Marster married Gormans twice an' dey wus both named Mary. Don't know whether dey wus sisters or not, but dey wus both Virginia women. So my missus name wus Mary Gorman.

"I do not know my age, but I wus 'bout 12 years old when Wheeler's cavalry come through. Dey skeered me so much I squatted like a rat. Dey pulled clothes off de line an' stole clothes from stores an' went down to de depot an' changed clothes. Dey stole de womens drawers an' filled 'em wid things. Dey stole meat, corn an' other things an' put 'em in womens drawers, throwed 'em across dere horses backs an' went on. You know women den wore long drawers open in front, ha! ha!

"Wheeler's cavalry tied up de legs an' front of 'em an' filled de legs an' seat full of things dey stole. Dey jest grabbed everything an' went on. Dey had a reason for leavin'; de Yankees wus at dere heels.

"Jest as soon as dey lef' de Yankees come. You know, dere wus a man here by de name of Governor Holden an' de flag wus a red an' white flag, an' when de Yankees come dere wus another flag run up.

"I want to try to tell de truth 'cause I wus teached dat way by marster an' missus.

"De flag brought peace 'cause de Yankees did not tear up de town. Dey had guards out around de houses an' dey marched back an' forth day an' night to keep everybody from robbin' de houses.

"De Yankees wid dere blue uniforms on jest kivered de town. Dey wus jest like ants. Dey played purty music on de ban' an' I liked dat. I wus fraid of 'em dough 'cause marster an' missus said dey were goin' to give us to 'em when dey come. I stayed hid mos' of de time right after de surrender 'cause I didn't want de Yankees to ketch me. When de others lef' after de surrender I run away an' went to Rev. Louis Edwards, a nigger preacher. He sent me to my aunt at Rolesville. My Aunt wus named Patsy Lewis. I stayed dere bout three weeks when my uncle rented whur Cameron Park is now an' tended it dat year. We all come to Raleigh an' I have lived here all my life, but the three weeks I stayed at Rolesville.

"I have wurked for white folks, washin', cookin', an' wurkin' at a laundry ever since freedom come.

"I never seed my father in my life. My mother wus named Tempe Gorman. Dey would not talk to me 'bout who my father wus nor where he wus at. Mother would laf sometime when I axed her 'bout him.

"Marster treated his niggers mean sometimes. He beat my mother till de scars wus on her back, so I could see 'em.

"Dey sold my mother, sister an' brother to ole man Askew, a slave speculator, an' dey were shipped to de Mississippi bottoms in a box-car. I never heard from mother anymore. I neber seed my brother agin, but my sister come back to Charlotte. She come to see me. She married an' lived dere till she died.

"In slavery time de food wus bad at marsters. It wus cooked one day for de nex', dat is de corn bread wus baked an' de meat wus biled an' you et it col' fer breakfas'. De meat wus as fat as butter an' you got one rashen an' a hunk of corn bread fer a meal. No biscuit wus seen in de slave houses. No sir, dat dey wus not. No biscuit for niggers at marsters.

"Our clothes wus bad an' our sleepin' places wus jest bunks. Our shoes had wooden bottoms on 'em.

"I heard 'em talk about patterollers so much I wus skeered so I could hardly sleep at night sometimes. I wus 'fraid dey would come an' catch me but I neber seed one in my life.

"I neber seed any slaves sold, in chains, or a jail for slaves. I neber seed a slave whupped. Marster took 'em in de back shed room to whup 'em.

"We was not teached to read an' write. You better not be caught wid no paper in yore han' if you was, you got de cowhide. I darsent to talk back to 'em no matter what happen'd dey would git you if you talked back to 'em.

"I married Tom Mitchner after de war. I went by de name of Patsy Gorman till I wus married. Now I goes by de name of Patsy Mitchner. My husban', Tom Mitchner, was born a slave. My marster lived whar de bus station now is on de corner of Martin an' McDowell Streets in dat ole house dat stan's near dere now. I wus born an' bred in Raleigh an' have neber libed out of Wake County.

"Ole Dr. Jim McKee, who is dead an' gone, looked atter us when we wus sick. He give us medicine an' kep us clean out better en people is clean out now. Dr. John McKee at de City Hall is his son. Dey pays no 'tention to me now; guess dey has forgotten me.

"Did you say ghosts, Lawsy, no I neber seed one but our spirits is always wonderin' aroun' eben before we dies. Spirits is wonderin' eberywhere an' you has to look out for 'em.

"Witches is folks. I neber had a spell put on me by one, but I knowed a woman once who had a spell put on 'er, an' it hurt her feet, but a ole white man witch doctor helped take de spell off, but I think it wus de Lord who took it off. I is a Christain an' I believes eberythin' is in His han's.

"De people is worser now den dey was in slavery time. We need patterollers right now. 'Twould stop some uv dis stealin' an' keep a lot of folks out of de penetentiary. We need 'em right now.

"Slavery wus better for us den things is now in some cases. Niggers den didn't have no responsibility, jest wurk, obey an' eat. Now dey got to shuffle around an' live on jest what de white folks min' to give 'em.

"Slaves prayed for freedom. Den dey got it dey didn't know what to do wid it. Dey wus turned out wid nowhere to go an' nothin' to live on. Dey had no 'sperence in lookin' out for demselves an' nothin' to wurk wid an' no lan'.

"Dey made me think of de crowd onetime who prayed for rain when it wus dry in crap time. De rain fell in torrents an' kept fallin' till it was 'bout a flood. De rain frogs 'gin to holler an' callin' mo' rain an' it rained an' rained. Den de raincrow got up in a high tree an' he holler an' axed de Lord for rain. It rained till ebery little rack of cloud dat come ober brought a big shower of large drops. De fiel's wus so wet an' miry you could not go in 'em an' water wus standin' in de fiel's middle of ebery row, while de ditches in de fiel's looked like little rivers, dey wus so full of water. It begun to thunder agin in de southwest, right whar we call de 'Chub hole' of de sky, whar so much rain comes from an' de clouds growed blacker an' blacker back dere.

"Den one of de mens who had been prayin' for rain up an' said, 'I tell you brothers if it don't quit rainin' eberything goin' to be washed away.' Dey all looked at de black rain cloud in de west wid sor'ful faces as if dey felt dey didn't know what use dey had for rain after dey got it. Den one of de brothers said to de other brothers kinder easy an' shameful like, 'Brothers don't you think we overdone dis thing?' Dats what many a slave thought 'bout prayin' for freedom.

"Before two years had passed after de surrender dere wus two out of every three slaves who wushed dey wus back wid dere marsters.

"De marsters kindness to de niggers after de war is de cause of de nigger havin' things today. Dere wus a lot of love between marster an' slave en dar is few of us dat don't love de white folks today.

"Slavery wus a bad thing an' freedom, of de kin' we got wid nothin' to live on wus bad. Two snakes full of pisen. One lyin' wid his head pintin' north, de other wid his head pintin' south. Dere names wus slavery an' freedom. De snake called slavery lay wid his head pinted south an' de snake called freedom lay wid his head pinted north. Both bit de nigger, an' dey wus both bad."

EH.

N.C. District: II Worker: Mrs. W.N. Harriss No. Words: 396 Subject: Emeline Moore, Ex-slave. Interviewed: Emeline Moore. 707 Hanover Street, Wilmington, N.C. Edited: Mrs. W.N. Harriss

EMELINE MOORE, EX-SLAVE

707 Hanover Street, Wilmington, N.C.

"I don' exac'ly know how ole I is, but dey say I mus' be eighty. No mam, I ain' got nothin' in no fam'ly Bible. Where'd I git a fam'ly Bible? My mammy (with a chuckle) had too many chillun to look after to be puttin' 'em down in no Bible, she did'n have time, an' she did'n have no learnin' nohow. But I reckon I is eighty because I 'members so much I's jes' about forgotten it all.

"My folks belonged to Colonel Taylor. He an' Mis' Kitty lived in that big place on Market Street where the soldiers lives now, (The W.L.I. Armory) but we was on the plantation across the river mos' of the time.

"Of co'se I was born in slavery, but I don' remember nothin' much excep' feedin' chickens. An' up on Market Street Mis' Kitty had chickens an' things, an' a cow. The house had more lan' around it than it got now. I do remember when they thought eve'ybody 'roun' here was goin' to die an' I got skeered. No'm t'want no war it was the yaller fever. We was kept on the plantation but we knowed folks jes died an' died an' died. We thought t'would'nt be nobody left. I don't remember nothin' about Lincoln travelin' aroun'. I always heard he was President of the Lunited States, an' lived in Washington, an' gave us freedom, an' got shot. Of co'se I knows all about Booker Washington, a lot of our folks went to his school, an' he been here in Wilmington. I'd know a lot about slave times only I was so little. I have heard my mammy say she had a heap easier time in slavery than after she was turn' loose with a pa'cel of chilluns to feed. I married as soon as I could an' that's how I got this house. But I can't work, an' I disremembers so much. The Welfare gives me regerlar pay, an' now an' then my friends give me a nickel or a dime.

"I lives alone now, until I can git a decent 'ooman to live with me. I tells you Missus these womens an' young girls today are sumpin else. After you had 'em aroun' awhile you wish you never knowed 'em.

"Sometimes when I jes sets alone an rocks I wonder if my mammy didn't have it lots easier than I does."

N.C. District: Asheville Worker: Marjorie Jones No. Words: 2,300 Subject: Interview with Fannie Moore, Ex-slave. Story teller: Fannie Moore Editor: Marjorie Jones Date: September 27, 1937

[TR: Cover page is in a format labeled "STATE EDITORIAL IDENTIFICATION FORM".]

Interviewer: Marjorie Jones, Date: Sept. 21, 1937. Interview With: Fannie Moore, Ex-slave, 151 Valley Street, Asheville, N.C.

"Nowadays when I heah folks a'growlin an' a'grumblin bout not habbin this an' that I jes think what would they done effen they be brought up on de Moore plantation. De Moore plantation b'long to Marse Jim Moore, in Moore, South Carolina. De Moores had own de same plantation and de same niggers and dey children for yeahs back. When Marse Jim's pappy die he leave de whole thing to Marse Jim, effen he take care of his mammy. She shore was a rip-jack. She say niggers didn't need nothin' to eat. Dey jes like animals, not like other folks. She whip me, many time wif a cow hide, til I was black and blue.

"Marse Jim's wife war Mary Anderson. She war the sweetest woman I ebber saw. She was allus good to evah nigger on de plantation. Her mother was Harriet Anderson and she visit de Missus for long time on de farm. All de little niggers like to work fo' her. She nebber talk mean. Jes smile dat sweet smile and talk in de soffes' tone. An when she laugh, she soun' jes like de little stream back ob de spring house gurglin' past de rocks. An' her hair all white and curly, I can 'member her always.

"Marse Jim own de bigges' plantation in de whole country. Jes thousands acres ob lan'. An de ole Tiger Ribber a runnin' right through de middle ob de plantation. On one side ob de ribber stood de big house, whar de white folks lib and on the other side stood de quarters. De big house was a purty thing all painted white, a standin' in a patch o' oak trees. I can't remember how many rooms in dat house but powerful many. O'corse it was built when de Moores had sech large families. Marse Jim he only hab five children, not twelve like his mammy had. Dey was Andrew and Tom, den Harriet, Nan, and Nettie Sue. Harriett was jes like her granny Anderson. She was good to ebberbody. She git de little niggers down an' teach em dey Sunday School lesson. Effen ole Marse Jim's mammy ketch her she sho' raise torment. She make life jes as hard for de niggers as she can.

"De quarters jes long row o' cabins daubed wif dirt. Ever one in de family lib in one big room. In one end was a big fireplace. Dis had to heat de cabin and do de cookin too. We cooked in a big pot hung on a rod over de fire and bake de co'n pone in de ashes or else put it in de skillet and cover de lid wif coals. We allus hab plenty wood to keep us warm. Dat is ef we hab time to get it outen de woods.

"My granny she cook for us chillens while our mammy away in de fiel. Dey wasn't much cookin to do. Jes make co'n pone and bring in de milk. She hab big wooden bowl wif enough wooden spoons to go 'roun'. She put de milk in de bowl and break it up. Den she put de bowl in de middle of de flo' an' all de chillun grab a spoon.

"My mammy she work in de fiel' all day and piece and quilt all night. Den she hab to spin enough thread to make four cuts for de white fo'ks ebber night. Why sometime I nebber go to bed. Hab to hold de light for her to see by. She hab to piece quilts for de white folks too. Why dey is a scar on my arm yet where my brother let de pine drip on me. Rich pine war all de light we ebber hab. My brother was a holdin' de pine so's I can help mammy tack de quilt and he go to sleep and let it drop.

"I never see how my mammy stan' sech ha'd work. She stan' up fo' her chillun tho'. De ol' overseeah he hate my mammy, case she fight him for beatin' her chillun. Why she git more whuppins for dat den anythin' else. She hab twelve chillun. I member I see de three oldes' stan' in de snow up to dey knees to split rails, while de overseeah stan off an' grin.

"My mammy she trouble in her heart bout de way they treated. Ever night she pray for de Lawd to git her an' her chillun out ob de place. One day she plowin' in de cotton fiel. All sudden like she let out big yell. Den she sta't singin' an' a shoutin', an' a whoopin' an' a hollowin'. Den it seem she plow all de harder. When she come home, Marse Jim's mammy say: 'What all dat goin' on in de fiel? Yo' think we sen' you out there jes to whoop and yell? No siree, we put you out there to work and you sho' bettah work, else we git de overseeah to cowhide you ole black back.' My mammy jes grin all over her black wrinkled face and say: 'I's saved. De Lawd done tell me I's saved. Now I know de Lawd will show me de way, I ain't gwine a grieve no more. No matter how much yo' all done beat me an' my chillun de Lawd will show me de way. An' some day we nevah be slaves.' Ole granny Moore grab de cowhide and slash mammy cross de back but mammy nebber yell. She jes go back to de fiel a singin'.

"My mammy grieve lots over brothah George, who die wif de fever. Granny she doctah him as bes' she could, evah time she git way from de white folks kitchen. My mammy nevah git chance to see him, 'cept when she git home in de evenin'. George he jes lie. One day I look at him an' he had sech a peaceful look on his face, I think he sleep and jes let him lone. Long in de evenin I think I try to wake him. I touch him on de face, but he was dead. Mammy nebber know til she come at night. Pore mammy she kneel by de bed an' cry her heart out. Ol' uncle Allen, he make pine box for him an' carry him to de graveyard over on de hill. My mammy jes plow and cry as she watch em' put George in de groun'.

"My pappy he was a blacksmith. He shoe all de horses on de plantation. He wo'k so hard he hab no time to go to de fiel'. His name war Stephen Moore. Mars Jim call him Stephen Andrew. He was sold to de Moores, and his mammy too. She war brought over from Africa. She never could speak plain. All her life she been a slave. White folks never recognize 'em any more than effen dey was a dog.

"It was a tubble sight to see de speculators come to de plantation. Dey would go through de fields and buy de slaves dey wanted. Marse Jim nebber sell pappy or mammy or any ob dey chillun. He allus like pappy. When de speculator come all de slaves start a shakin'. No one know who is a goin'. Den sometime dey take 'em an' sell 'em on de block. De 'breed woman' always bring mo' money den de res', ebben de men. When dey put her on de block dey put all her chillun aroun her to show folks how fas she can hab chillun. When she sold her family nebber see her agin. She nebber know [HW: how] many chillun she hab. Some time she hab colored children an' sometime white. Taint no use to say anything case effen she do she jes git whipped. Why on de Moore plantation Aunt Cheney, everbody call her Aunt Cheney, have two chillun by de overseeah. De overseeah name war Hill. He war as mean as de devil. When Aunt Cheney not do what he ask he tell granny Moore. Ole Granny call Aunt Cheney to de kitchen and make her take her clothes off den she beat her til she jest black an' blue. Many boys and girls marry dey own brothers and sisters an' nebber know de difference lest they get to talkin' bout dey parents and where dey uster lib.

"De niggers allus hab to get pass to go anywhere offen de plantation. Dey git de pass from de massa or de missus. Den when de paddyrollers come dey had to show de pass to dem, if you had no pass dey strip you an' beat you.

"I remember one time dey was a dance at one ob de houses in de quarters. All de niggers was a laughin an' a pattin' dey feet an' a singin', but dey was a few dat didn't. De paddyrollers shove de do' open and sta't grabbin' us. Uncle Joe's son he decide dey was one time to die and he sta't to fight. He say he tired standin' so many beatin's, he jes can't stan' no mo. De paddyrollers start beatin' him an' he sta't fightin'. Oh, Lawdy it war tubble. Dey whip him wif a cowhide for a long time den one of dem take a stick an' hit him over de head, an' jes bus his head wide open. De pore boy fell on de flo' jes a moanin' an' a groanin. De paddyrollers jes whip bout half dozen other niggers an' sen' em home and leve us wif de dead boy.

"None o' the niggers have any learnin', warn't never 'lowed to as much as pick up a piece o' paper. My daddy slip an' get a Webster book and den he take it outen de fiel and he larn to read. De white folks 'fraid to let de children learn anythin'. They fraid dey get too sma't and be harder to manage. Dey nebber let em know anything about anythin'. Never have any church. Effen you go you set in de back of de white folks chu'ch. But de niggers slip off an' pray an' hold prayer-meetin' in de woods den dey tu'n down a big wash pot and prop it up wif a stick to drown out de soun' ob de singin'. I 'member some of de songs we uster sing. One of dem went somethin' like dis:

"'Hark from de tomb a doleful soun'
My ears hear a tender cry.
A livin' man come through the groun'
Whar we may shortly lie.
Heah in dis clay may be you bed
In spite ob all you toil
Let all de wise bow revrant head
Mus' lie as low as ours.'

"Then dey sing one I can hardly remember but dis is some of de words:

"'Jesus can make you die in bed
He sof' as downs in pillow there
On my bres' I'll lean my head
Grieve my life sweetly there.
In dis life of heaby load
Let us share de weary traveler
Along de heabenly road.'

"Back in dose time dey wasn't no way to put away fruit and things fo' winter like dey is today. In de fall of de yeah it certainly was a busy time. We peel bushels of apples and peaches to dry. Dey put up lots o' brandied peaches too. De way dey done dey peel de peaches and cut em up. Then dey put a layer ob peaches in a crock den a layer ob sugar den another layer ob peaches until de crock was full. Den dey seel de jar by puttin' a cloth over de top then a layer o' paste then another cloth then another layer ob paste. Dey keep dey meat bout de same way foks do today 'cept dey had to smoke it more since salt was so sca'ce back in dat day. Dey can mos' ob de other fruit and put it in de same kin' o' jars dat dey put de peaches in. Dey string up long strings o' beans an' let 'em dry and cook em wif fat back in de winter.

"Folks back den never heah tell of all de ailments de folks hab now. Dey war no doctahs. Jes use roots and bark for teas of all kinds. My ole granny uster make tea out o' dogwood bark an' give it to us chillun when we have a cold, else she make a tea outen wild cherry bark, pennyroil, or hoarhound. My goodness but dey was bitter. We do mos' enythin' to git out a takin' de tea, but twarnt no use granny jes git you by de collar hol' yo' nose and you jes swallow it or get strangled. When de baby hab de colic she git rats vein and make a syrup an' put a little sugar in it an' boil it. Den soon [HW: as] it cold she give it to de baby. For stomach ache she give us snake root. Sometime she make tea, other time she jes cut it up in little pieces an' make you eat one or two ob dem. When you hab fever she wrap you up in cabbage leaves or ginsang leaves, dis made de fever go. When de fever got too bad she take the hoofs offen de hog dat had been killed and parch em' in de ashes and den she beat em' up and make a tea. Dis was de most tubble of all.

"De yeah fore de war started Marse Jim died. He war out in de pasture pickin' up cow loads a throwin' em in de garden an' he jes drop over. I hate to see Marse Jim go, he not sech a bad man. Ater he die his boys, Tom an' Andrew take cha'ge of de plantation. Dey think dey run things diffe'nt from dey daddy, but dey jes git sta'ted when de war come. Marse Tom and Marse Andrew both hab to go. My pappy he go long wif dem to do der cookin. My pappy he say dat some day he run four or five miles wif de Yankees ahind him afore he can stop to do any cookin. Den when he stop he cook wif de bullets a fallin all roun de kettles. He say he walk on ded men jes like he walkin on de groun'. Some of de men be dead, some moanin' an' some a groanin', but nobody pay no tention, case de Yankees keep a comin. One day de Yankees come awful close Marse Andrew hab de Confed'rate flag in his han'. He raise it high in de air. Pappy say he yell for him to put de flag down case de Yankees was a comin' closer an' was agoin' to capture him anyway. But Marse Andrew jes hol' de flag up an run 'hind a tree. De Yankee sojers jes take one shot at him an' dat was de las' of him. My pappy bring him home. De fambly put him in alcohol. One day I went to see him and there he was a swimmin' round in de water. Mos' ob his hair done come off tho. He buried at Nazereth. I could go right back to de graveyard effen I was there. Den my pappy go back to [HW: stay] with Marse Tom. Marse Tom was jes wounded. Effen he hadn't had a Bible in his pocket de bullet go clear through his heart. But yo' all kno' no bullet ain't goin' through de Bible. No, you can't shoot through God's word. Pappy he bring Marse Tom home an' take care of him til he well. Marse Tom give pappy a horse an' wagon case he say he save his life.

"Many time de sojers come through de plantation an' dey load up dey wagons wif ebberthing dey fin', lasses, hams, chickens. Sometime dey gib part of it to de niggers but de white folks take it way when dey git gone. De white folks hide all de silverware from de soldiers. Dey fraid dey take it when dey come. Some time dey make us tell effen dey think we know.

"After de war pappy go back to work on de plantation. He make his own crop, on de plantation. But de money was no good den. I played wif many a Confed'rate dollar. He sho was happy dat he was free. Mammy she shout fo' joy an' say her prayers war answered. Pappy git pretty feeble, but he work til jest fore he die. He made patch of cotton wif a hoe. Dey was enough cotton in de patch to make a bale. Pappy die when he 104 years old. Mammy she live to be 105.