Chapter VII: Part 7

"I was born 2nd Sunday in May 1860. I remember seein' de Yankees but I know very little 'bout 'em. Guess mos' all dem Yankees are dead now. De ones dat whupped an' de ones dat got whupped are mos' all dead. I lerned to read an' write since slavery. I remember de Yankees. Dey give us chilluns hardtack. Dey had cans on dere backs an' guns, blue clothes an' brass buttons on dere clothes. Dey had covered wagons in front an' dey was walkin'. I remember seein' dem kill a hog and take part of de hog an' carry it off on dere backs.

"De only time I saw anything in de slave situation dat made a big impression on my mind was when Marster Thomas tied my Aunt Anne Thomas to a peach tree and whupped her. I will never forgit how she cried. Another thing I 'members, my uncle teached me to cuss folks. His name was Needum Thomas. I can remember fore I could walk better than I can remember happenings now.

"Atter de war my daddy took mother an' moved to Dr. Leach's in Wake County, next year we went to Mrs. Betsy Jordan's plantation in Johnston County. The fourth year atter the war they put me to work. We stayed with the Jordans several years then we moved to Mr. Thomas' where my aunt was whupped in slavery time an' de marster dat owned some of our people in slavery time. We stayed there a few years. Then we moved to John Avery's near Smithfield. Father bought a place there an' paid for it.

"Father believed in whuppin like de white folks did. He cut de blood out of me wid a switch an' scarred me up an' I left him. When I was twenty-one, a free man, I went back an' paid father for every day I was away from him from de time I ran away at 16 years old till I was twenty-one. I owed him dat 'cause I was his until I was free. I believes dat is why God has allowed me to live such a long time, 'cause I paid a just debt. Daddy said before he died I had done more for him dan de other chilluns. He whupped me too much but atter all he was my father an' I loved him an' paid him all I owed him for de time I was away.

"I married three times in Raleigh. I married Juliva Smith, she lived one and one half years. We had one child dat lived six days. I have no more chilluns. I married Mahalda Rand. She lived a year and three months and the third an' last time I married Maggie Taylor. I lived with her eleven years an' she died. I am single now.

"Haywood Smith was my first father-in-law. He is 'bout 108 years ole. He lives at de County home.

"I am livin' right in dis world tryin' to be ready when God calls me. Slavery was bad. Workin' the colored people over two hundred years without giving 'em anything but dere food an' clothes. Yes slavery was bad."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 568 Subject: JOSEPHINE SMITH Story teller: Josephine Smith Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

JOSEPHINE SMITH Ex-Slave Story

An interview with Josephine Smith, 94 years old of 1010 Mark Street, Raleigh, N.C.

"I wuz borned in Norfolk, Virginia an' I doan know who we belonged to, but I 'members de day we wuz put on de block at Richmond. I wuz jist todlin' roun' den, but me an' my mammy brought a thousand dollars. My daddy, I reckon, belonged ter somebody else, an' we wuz jist sold away from him jist lak de cow is sold away from de bull.

"A preacher by de name of Maynard bought me an' mammy an' carried us ter Franklinton, whar we lived till his daughter married Doctor John Leach of Johnston County; den I wuz give ter her.

"All my white folkses wuz good ter me, an' I reckon dat I ain't got no cause fer complaint. I ain't had much clothes, an' I ain't had so much ter eat, an' a many a whuppin', but nobody ain't nebber been real bad ter me.

"I 'members seein' a heap o' slave sales, wid de niggers in chains, an' de spec'ulators sellin' an' buyin' dem off. I also 'members seein' a drove of slaves wid nothin' on but a rag 'twixt dere legs bein' galloped roun' 'fore de buyers. 'Bout de wust thing dat eber I seed do' wuz a slave 'oman at Louisburg who had been sold off from her three weeks old baby, an' wuz bein' marched ter New Orleans.

"She had walked till she wuz give out, an' she wuz weak enough ter fall in de middle o' de road. She wuz chained wid twenty or thirty other slaves an' dey stopped ter rest in de shade o' a big oak while de speculators et dere dinner. De slaves ain't havin' no dinner. As I pass by dis 'oman begs me in God's name fer a drink o' water, an' I gives it ter her. I ain't neber be so sorry fer nobody.

"Hit wuz in de mont' of August an' de sun wuz bearin' down hot when de slaves an' dere drivers leave de shade. Dey walk fer a little piece an' dis 'oman fall out. She dies dar side o' de road, an' right dar dey buries her, cussin', dey tells me, 'bout losin' money on her.

"Atter de war I comes ter Raleigh an' wucks fer Major Russ den I cooks a year on Hillsboro Street fer somebody who I can' 'member right now, den I goes ter Louisburg ter cook in Mr. Dedman's hotel, an' hearin' 'bout Melissa I fin's dat she am my sister, so I goes ter Mis' Mitchel's an' I gits her.

"A few years atter de war I marries Alex. Dunson wuz a body slave fer Major Fernie Green an' went through all de war. Me an' him lived tergether sixty years, I reckon, an' he died de night 'fore Thanksgivin' in 1923.

"Slavery wuzn't so good, case it divided famblies an' done a heap o' other things dat wuz bad, but de wuck wuz good fer ever'body. It's a pity dat dese youngins nowadays doan know de value o' wuck lak we did. Why when I wuz ten years old I could do any kind o' house wuck an' spin an' weave ter boot. I hope dat dese chilluns will larn somethin' in school an' church. Dats de only way dey can larn it."

AC

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 631 Subject: NELLIE SMITH Person Interviewed: Nellie Smith Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

NELLIE SMITH

Main St. Dunn, North Carolina Route 6

"My name is Nellie Smith. I wus born on a plantation in Harnett County in 1856, near where Linden now stands. I belonged to ole man Jack Williams. His wife wus dead when I wus borned. There were many acres in the plantation; it wus a large one. I don't know exactly how many acres. There were 'bout fifty slaves on the place. The slave houses were on a hill. Marster lived in the big house; and it wus a big one too.

"I do not remember ever goin' hongry when I wus a slave. Father wus the butler and mother wus a house woman, and we got plenty to eat. My mother wus named Rosetta Williams and father wus named Atlas Williams. I do not remember my grandmother and grandfather, but I remember my great grandmother.

"We had good home made clothes and good beds. Jack Williams wus good to his slaves. He wus good to me and my mother and father, I have heard 'em say that he wus always good to 'em. Our livin' with him wus good and we loved him. He thought a lot o' his niggers. He had six children of his own 4 boys and 2 girls; the boys Dr. Jack Williams, Dr. Jim Williams, William Williams, Jim Williams; the girls Mary and Martha.

"I did little work in slavery time. Sometimes I fanned flies off the table at meal times and did other light work. They made children do very little work in slavery time. We children played base, an' hide the switch.

"I saw a jail for slaves in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but I never saw a slave sold. I saw an overseer whup a man once but he certainly didn't hurt him much. He done more talkin' dan whuppin.

"We went to the white folks' church but they would not allow any of us any books. No one taught us to read an' write. My father ran away once because he would not take a whuppin'. When he came back they did not do or say anything to 'im. Jack Williams would not allow a patteroller to whup a nigger on his land. If they could git on his land dey were safe. He had overseers at the plantation. I remember one whose name wus Buck Buckannon. When we got sick Dr. Jack Williams looked after us. When Marster Jim Williams got to be a doctor he looked after us.

"Yes, I remember de Yankees. Dey went to our house one Sunday mornin'. Dey did not fight on our side of the river; dey fought on de other side o' de river near de Smith House. It wus the battle of Averysboro. De Smith House wus a hospital. Dey came into the house, my sister Irene wus house girl. The Yankees put deir pistols to her head and said, 'You better tell me where dem things are hid. Tell us where de money and silver is hid at.' Sister did not tell. Boss had started off wid de silver dat mornin'. De Yankees caught him, took it, an' his boots, horse and all he had. He come back home barefooted. Dey got mos' everthing at Marster's house. Dey took my mother's shawl, an' a lot of things belongin' to de slaves.

"I have heard o' de Ku Klux Klan, ha! ha! Yes, I have. I heard tell of dey beatin' up people, but I never got into any tangle wid 'em. I just don't know bout all dem old folks Lincoln, Davis, Booker Washington. I think slavery wus a bad thing cause dey sold families apart, fathers from their wives and children, and mothers away from their children. Two of my sisters were fixed up to be sold when the war ended."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 465 Subject: SARAH ANN SMITH Person Interviewed: Sarah Ann Smith Editor: G.L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: AUG ? 1937]

SARAH ANN SMITH

An interview with Sarah Ann Smith of 623 West Lenoir Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.

"I wus borned January 22, 1858 ter Martha an' Green Womble in Chatham County, near Lockville. My father 'longed ter Mr. John Womble an' mammy 'longed ter Captain Elias Bryant. Dey had six chilluns, I bein' nex' ter de oldes'.

"Father wus a carpenter an' by his havin' a trade he got along better before an' atter de war dan de other niggers. Mammy wus housekeeper an' cook an' she always wus neat as a pin an' as quick as lightnin'. Both families wus good ter dere slaves, givin' dem plenty ter eat an' enough ter wear.

"I stayed wid mammy on Captain Bryant's plantation, an' I doan 'member doin' any wurk at all 'cept lookin' atter de babies onct in a long while.

"When de Yankees come Marse wus off ter de war so dey tuck de place wid out any trouble at all. Dey wusn't as good ter us as our white folkses wus an' somehow we doan feel right 'bout 'em takin' Marse's stuff, but we knows hit ain't no use ter say nothin' 'bout hit.

"At last de war wus ober, de Captain wus too busted ter hire us ter stay on, so we moved over ter Mr. Womble's place den.

"Life wus a heap different from what hit wus 'fore de surrender. We ain't had no fun now case when we has time we is too tired an' when we do have time is soldom. No mo' dances an' parties fer us. We ain't eben got de 'lasses ter have a candy pullin'. We ain't got de 'ligion we had 'fore de war, so prayer meetin' am not hilt often. De Yankees gived us a school but dey ain't give us nothin' ter eat so we's got ter wurk, we ain't got no time fer edgercation.

"I growed up in dis han' mouth way an' when I wus thirteen I seed Henry Smith who wus rentin' a little farm dar near us. He wus young an' slim an' yaller. My folks wanted me ter marry Bill Bunn but he wus thirty-odd, black an' heavy, an' I ain't laked him.

"Me an' Henry we cou'ted jist as we pleased case dey warn't strict on us an' when I tol' him dat I reckin dat I is got ter marry Bill Bunn he gits mad an' he sez dat I ain't nother, case I is gwine ter marry him. Well I did an' I ain't never been sorry yet.

"Henry has been dead now fo'teen years an' de five chilluns what we had am dead too an' I is hopin' ter git my pension soon. I does need hit, bein' all alone in de worl'."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 394 Subject: WILLIAM SMITH Story teller: William Smith Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

WILLIAM SMITH 920 Oberlin Road

"My full name is William Smith. I was born August 17, eighty years ago, near Neuse River at a place called Wilder's Grove. I belonged to Gaston E. Wiley and my missus was Sarah. Don't remember how many children they had but one or two o' 'em are living in Raleigh now, some place on North Street. I had good food and clothing and a good place to sleep. I was not big enough to work much but they were good to me. I jest done little things aroun' the house.

"I remember seein' the Yankees. I seen 'em take things. Yes, I wus big enough to see 'em shoot hogs, an' cows, an' kill the chickens. They went through the house and took what they wanted. After the war we moved over about the Asylum on the Haywood Place. We went to Bryant Green's from the Haywood place. We lived in Raleigh a long time, then I went to Arkansas. My mother and father died in Raleigh.

"I stayed in Arkansas 40 years, and then came back to Raleigh. I am partly paralyzed. I have had a stroke. I married Anna Regan of Wake County. She went from Wake County to Arkansas and I married her there. Her mother's father and the family all went to Arkansas. She is 71 years old the 8th of last April. She has had two strokes and can't talk any more. We have no boys but two girls, Matilda and Emma Maye Smith. Matilda Parker my daughter lives in Pittsburg, Pa. Emma Maye works to support us. She works as nurse for Mrs. J.H. Hunter but right now is out of work. Charity helps us a little. One half peck meal, 1 pound powdered milk, two cans grape fruit juice, one half pound coffee per week. This amounts to about eighty cents worth rations per week. The charity don't have much to give.

"I have been back from Arkansas nine years the seventh of last April. I was never teached no books. I never saw a patteroller, but daddy told me about 'em. I do not remember much about churches before the surrender. I cannot read and write.

"I don't remember the overseers, and I know nuthin' 'bout dem men Lincoln and the rest of 'em you have asked me bout. Reckon they were all right."

BN

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 797 Subject: THE BOUND GIRL Person Interviewed: Laura Sorrell Editor: G.L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: JUL 24 1937]

THE BOUND GIRL

An interview with Laura Sorrell, 72 years old, of 207 Battle Street, Raleigh. The story is her mother's.

"My mammy, Virginia Burns, wus borned in Fayetteville, Cumberland County. She never knowed her parents an' frum de fust she can 'member she is a bound girl.

"Frum de fust she could 'member she wus bound out ter a Mis' Frizelle what beat her, give her scraps lak a dog, an' make her wuck lak a man. Dey eben makes her git on de well sweep an' go down in de well an' clean hit out. She said dat she wus skeerd nigh ter death.

"She wus a grown woman when she 'cided dat she can't stand de treatment no mo'. She has cut wood since she wus big enough ter pick up de axe an' she makes up her min' ter quit.

"Dey wus a-fixin' ter chain her up an' beat her lak dey usually done when she 'cides ter go away. She has ter go den or take de whuppin' an' she ain't got time ter make no plans.

"Fust she runs ter de Marster's bedroom an' slips on a pair of his ole shoes, den she goes out ter de big chicken house back of de barn. She hyars de Marster a-callin' fer her 'fore she gits ter de woods so she runs back an' hides in de chicken house.

"Dey calls an' dey calls, an' de chickens comes ter de roost but she lays low an' doan make no fuss, so dey goes on ter sleep. She hyars de folkses a-callin' her but she lays still, den she sees de torches what dey am usein' ter find her an' she thanks God dat she ain't in de woods. Atter awhile she thinks dat she can sneak out, but she hyars de bayin' of de bloodhoun's in de swamp so she lays still.

"Hit am four o'clock 'fore all gits quiet. She knows dat hit am safe ter go now, case she has done hyard Mister Frizelle an' one of de patterollers a-talkin' as dey goes back ter de house. Dey 'cides ter go home an' start out ag'in de nex' mornin' bright an' early.

"Mammy am skeerd pink but she knows dat unless she am keerful dey am gwine ter ketch her. She lays still till daybreak den she flies fer de woods.

"I'se hyard mammy say dat dem nights she slept in de woods wus awful. She'd find a cave sometimes an' den ag'in she'd sleep in a holler log, but she said dat ever'time de hoot owls holler or de shiverin' owls shiver dat she'd cower down an' bite her tongue ter keep frum screamin'.

"She said dat de woods wus full of snakes an' hit wus near 'bout two weeks 'fore she got ter Guilford County. She had stold what she et on de way dar, an' dat hadn't been much so she wus weak.

"One day she crept outen de woods an' look roun' her an' hit bein' in July, she spies a watermillion patch. She looks roun' an' den flies out dar an' picks up a big million, den she shakes a leg back ter de woods.

"While she wus settin' dar eatin' de watermillion a young white man comes up an' axes her her business an' she, seein' dat he am kind-lookin', tells him her story.

"She fully 'specks him ter turn her ober ter de sheriff but 'stid of dat he tells her dat his name am Daniel Green, an' dat he am a Union sympathizer, an' den he takes her ter some colored folkses house.

"Dese colored folkses am named Berry an' my mammy am stayin' dar when she falls in love wid my paw, Jake Sorrell, an' marries him.

"She ain't never been ter dances an' sich before but now she goes some, an' hit wus at one of dese dances whar she met my paw. When she gits engaged ter him she won't let him kiss her till she axes Marster Daniel iffen she can marry him. Yo' see she wus wuckin' fer Marse Dan.

"Well he give his consent an' dey wus married. Dey had me soon, case I wus eight months old when de Yankees come, an' we wus freed by de law.

"My mammy an' paw had a hard time do' dey ain't had but us two chilluns, but dey manages ter feed us all right. Dey wus superstitious an' paid de witch doctor a right smart ter keep off de witches but jist de same we got along well as most folks eben do' we did have ter eat hard tack an' black molasses fer seberal years atter de war."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 1414 Subject: RIA SORRELL Person Interviewed: Ria Sorrell Editor: G.L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: AUG 23 1937]

RIA SORRELL

97 years old. 536 E. Edenton Street, Raleigh, N.C.

"I jist lak three years of bein' one hundred years old. I belonged to Jacob Sorrell. His wife wus named Elizabeth. My age wus give to me by Mr. Bob Sorrell, the only one of ole marster's chilluns dat is livin' now.

"Dey had four boys, Marcillers, Bob, Adolphus and Dr. Patrick Sorrell. Dey had three girls, Averada an' two udder ones dat died 'fore dey wus named. I wus born on marster's plantation near Leesville, in Wake County. Dats been a long time ago. I can't git around now lak I could when I wus on de plantation.

"Dere wus 'bout twenty-five slaves on de place an' marster jist wouldn't sell a slave. When he whupped one he didn't whup much, he wus a good man. He seemed to be sorry everytime he had to whup any of de slaves. His wife wus de pure debil, she jist joyed whuppin' Negroes. She wus tall an' spare-made wid black hair an' eyes. Over both her eyes wus a bulge place in her forehead. Her eyes set way back in her head. Her jaws were large lak a man's an' her chin stuck up. Her mouth wus large an' her lips thin an' seemed to be closed lak she had sumptin' in her mouth most all de time.

"When marster come ter town she raised ole scratch wid de slaves. She whupped all she could while marster wus gone. She tried to boss marster but he wouldn't allow dat. He kept her from whuppin' many a slave. She jist wouldn't feed a slave an' when she had her way our food wus bad. She said underleaves of collards wus good enough for slaves. Marster took feedin' in his hands an' fed us plenty at times. He said people couldn't work widout eatin'.

"Our houses wus good houses, 'case marster seed to it dey wus fixed right. We had good beds an' plenty of kiver. De houses wus called de nigger houses. Dey wus 'bout two hundred yards from de big house. Our houses had two rooms an' marster's had seven rooms.

"We didn't have any overseers, marster said he didn't believe in 'em an' he didn't want any. De oldest slaves on the place woke us up in the morning, an' acted as foreman. Marster hardly ever went to de field. He tole Squire Holman an' Sam Sorrell, two ole slaves, what he wanted done an' dey tole us an' we done it. I worked at de house as nurse an' house girl most of de time.

"Mother an' father worked in de field. Mother wus named Judy an' father wus named Sam. You sees father wus a slave foreman. Marster bought Squire Holman from de Holmans an' let him keep his name. Dats why he wus called dat.

"We worked from sunup till sunset wid a rest spell at 12 o'clock of two hours. He give us holidays to rest in. Dat was Christmas, a week off den, den a day every month, an' all Sundays. He said he wus a Christian an' he believed in givin' us a chance. Marster died of consumption. He give us patches an' all dey made on it. He give slaves days off to work dere patches.

"I shore believes marster went to Heaven, but missus, well I don't know. Don' know 'bout her, she wus so bad. She would hide her baby's cap an' tell me to find it. If I couldn't fin' it, she whupped me. She would call marster, an' I doin' de best I could to please her, an' say come here Jacob an' whup dis nigger, but marster paid no attention to her. He took our part. Many wus de meals he give us unbeknown to his wife. Dere wus no mixin' white an' black on marster's place, no sir, nothin' lak dat. He wus lak a father to us. Sometimes he brought hog haslets an' good things to de nigger house an' tole us to cook it. When it wus done he come an' et all he wanted, got up an' said, 'I'm goin' now,' an' you didn't see him no more till next day.

"We had prayer meetin' anytime an' we went to the white folks church. Dere wus no whiskey on de place, no, no, honey, no whiskey. Now at corn shuckin's dey had a big supper an' all et all dey wanted. I'll tell you Jake Sorrell wus all right. We didn't have any dances no time. Some nights marster would come to our cabins, call us all into one of 'em an pray wid us. He stood up in de floor an' tole us all to be good an pray. I saw him die. I saw him when de breath went out of him. De last word he said wus, 'Lord do your will, not mine.' Den he breathed twice an' wus no mo'.

"Missus died since de surrender, when she got sick she sent for me to go an' wait on her. I went an' cleaned her lak a baby, waited on her till de evenin' she died dat night. I went off dat evenin' late to spend de night an' next mornin' when I got dere she wus dead. I jist couldn't refuse missus when she sent for me even if she had treated me bad.

"My grandmother wus as white as you is. She wus Lottie Sorrell. Marster bought my grandmother. I do not know my grandfather's name. Grandmother wus a cook an' she tole me the reason she was so white wus 'cause she stood over de fire so much. Ha, ha, dats what she tole me. She had long straight hair. I 'members her well.

"Yes I 'members de Yankees. De Southern, our folks, wus in front. Dey come along a road right by our house. Our folks wus goin' on an' de Yankees right behind. You could hear 'em shootin'. Dey called it skirmishin'. It wus rainin' an our folks wus goin' through de mud an' slush. Dey had wagins an' some would say, 'Drive up, drive up, Goddamn it, drive up, de damn Yankees right behind us.' Dey had turkeys an' chickens' on de wagins an' on dere hosses. Dey got things out of de houses an' took de stock. Dey searched de houses an' took de quilts an' sheets an' things.

"De Yankees wus soon dere an' dey done de same thing. Dat wus a time. Dey took all dey could find an' dere want much left when all got through. De Yankees poured out lasses an' stomped down things dey could not carry off. I wus afraid of de Yankees. Dey come up an' said, 'Haint you got some money round here?' I tole 'em I knowed nothin' about money. Dey called me auntie an' said 'Auntie tell us whar de money is, you knows.' I says, 'Dey don't let me see everything around here, no dat dey don't.'

"When dey tole us we wus free we stayed right on wid marster. We got crackers an' meat from de Yankees an' when de crop wus housed in de fall marster give us part of all we made. We come to Raleigh on a ole steer cart to git our crackers an' meat dat wus our 'Lowance. We stayed at marster's till father died. I married there. We finally moved to the Page place 'bout eleven miles north of Raleigh. We been farmin' wid de white folks eber since, till we got so we couldn't work.

"I married Buck Sorrell since de surrender. We had four boys an' two girls, six children in all. Dey are all dead, 'cept one, her name is Bettie. She works at Dr. Rogers'.

"Dr Young looked after us when we wus sick.

"Dere wus one thing dey wouldn't allow, dat wus books an' papers. I can't read an' write. I heard talk of Abraham Lincoln comin' through when talk of de war come 'bout. Dey met, him an' Jeff Davis, in South Carolina. Lincoln said, 'Jeff Davis, let dem niggers go free.' Jeff Davis tole him you can't make us give up our property.' Den de war started.

"A lot of de niggers in slavery time wurked so hard dey said dey hated to see de sun rise in de mornin'. Slavery wus a bad thing, 'cause some white folks didn't treat dere niggers right."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary Hicks No. Words: 320 Subject: A SLAVERY STORY Story Teller: CHANEY SPELL Editor: George L. Andrews

CHANEY SPELL

An interview with Chaney Spell, 101 years old, Contena Heights, Wilson, North Carolina.

"I really doan know who my first marster wus, case I has been sold an' hired so much since den. I reckin dat I wus borned in New Hanover er Beaufort County an' I wus sold fust time in my mammy's arms. We wus sold ter a man in Carteret County and from dar de speculators took me ter Franklin County. I wus sold ter a Mr. McKee an' dat's de fust thing dat I 'members.

"I doan 'member anything 'bout maw 'cept dat dey called her Sal an' dat she died years an' years ago. I reckin dat I once had a pappy, but I ain't neber seed him.

"Marster McKee wus mean to us, an' we ain't had nothin' to eat nor wear half of de time. We wus beat fer ever' little thing. He owned I reckin two er three hundret slaves an' he had four overseers. De overseers wus mean an' dey often beat slaves ter death.

"I worked in de house, sometime 'round de table, but I ain't got so much to eat.

"When word come dat we wus to be sold I wus glad as I could be. Dey tol' me dat de marster has gambled away his money an' lost ever'thing but a few slaves. Later I learned dat he had lost me to a Mr. Hartman in Nash County.

"Marse Sid Hartman wus good as he could be, sometimes his overseers wusn't but when he foun' it out he let dem go. Marse Sid ain't got but one weakness an' dat am pretty yaller gals. He just can't desist dem at all. Finally Mis' Mary found it out an' it pretty near broke her heart. De ole marster, Marster Sid's daddy, said dat long as he could ride a hoss he could look out fer de plantation so Marse Sid took Mis' Mary to de mountains.

"Soon atter dey went away de war broke an' ole marster wus right busy, not dat de slaves ain't stuck to him but de Yankees won't let dem stick. When Marse Sid an' Mis' Mary come home de war wus closin' an' dey has lost dere slaves. De slaves still loves 'em do' an' dey goes over an' cleans house an' fixes fer de young folks.

"Atter de war I married Lugg Spell an' we had five chilluns. He's been dead dese many years an' I'se worked, worked an' worked to raise de chilluns. I has been on charity a long time now, a long time."

EH

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary Hicks No. Words: 432 Subject: A SLAVERY FAMILY Reference: Tanner Spikes Editor: George L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: AUG 4 1937]

A SLAVERY FAMILY

An interview with Tanner Spikes, 77 years of age, of 43 Bragg Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.

"My mammy had fifteen chilluns which wus all borned on Doctor Fab Haywood's plantation here in Wake County. My mammy 'longed ter him, but my daddy 'longed ter a Mr. Wiggins in Pasquotank County. I think that Dr. Haywood bought him just 'fore de war. Anyhow, we took de name of Wiggins.

"Mammy's name wus Lucinda an' pappy's name wus Osburn. I doan 'member seein' many Yankees on Dr. Haywood's place. I doan reckon many comed dar. Anyhow, we had a gyard.

"I 'members a corn shuckin' what happened 'fore de war wus over, an' what a time dem niggers did have. Dey kisses when dey fin' a red year an' atter dat dey pops some popcorn an' dey dances ter de music of de banjo which Uncle Jed am a-playin'. Dey dances all night de best I can 'member.

"I seed a few Yankees, but dey wus just lookin' fer something ter eat. We ain't knowed nothin' 'bout freedom, but de Yankees tol' us dat we ort ter be free, dey also said dat we ort ter have meat an' stuff in de smokehouse. My mammy sez dat dey ain't got good sense an' she tells marse what dey said.

"De Yankees has done tuck all de rations so dar ain't nothin' lef' fer de niggers ter take but mammy tells Marse Haywood what dey sez anyhow. Marse Haywood sez dat iffen he ketch any niggers in his smokehouse dat he'll skin 'em alive. He also sez dat we ain't free an' dat we ain't never gwine ter be free.

"De nex' year, atter de war, wus a hard year. We ain't had nothin' ter eat but hardtack an' 'lasses an' sometimes not half enough of dat. My pappy still farmed fer Marse Haywood, but hit ain't as good as it is in slavery days.

"Seberal years atter dat, while we wus livin' on Davie Street, I met Frank Spikes an' I married him. I can't tell yo' much 'bout our love-makin' case hit warn't much, but he always called me 'honey gal' an' he axed me ter marry him in de kitchen while I was washin' dishes. He jist puts his arms 'round me an' he sez, 'I wants ter marry yo', honey gal.'

"Well we gits married by de Baptist preacher in Raleigh fifty odd years ago an' we lives tergether till dis past March, when he dies.

"Other boys comed ter see me but I ain't loved none of dem but Frank. He ain't never whupped me but onct an' dat wus fer sassin' him, an' I reckin dat I needed dat.

"We had five chilluns an' I'se stayin' wid my daughter since he died, but I misses him, yes mam, I misses him purty awful."

EH

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 817 Subject: ANNIE STEPHENSON Person Interviewed: Annie Stephenson Editor: G.L. Andrews

[TR: Date stamp: AUG 6 1937]

ANNIE STEPHENSON 80 years old 1813 Rosewood Ave. Richmond, Va.

Now at 717 Saunder's Street Raleigh, N.C.

"I wus born in Hillsboro, N.C. I 'longed to Charles Holman and my missus wus named Rachel. He owned a plantation near Hillsboro. It wus a mighty big plantation in Orange County, an' he had a good many slaves on dat place. We had tolerable good food an' log cabins and clothes dat you wove in de loom. Home-wove cloth. We had no feather bed. We did not know nuthin' 'bout feather beds. Slaves like dat had bunks an' some slept on de floor. We went barefooted most of the time. Slave shoes had wooden bottoms on 'em. Chilluns wus not give shoes at our place till dey wus big enough to work.

"I 'member seein' de Yankees. Dey wore blue clothes an had brass buttons on 'em. De only work I done wus to sweep yards an' nurse small chilluns. I done very little heavy work. My mother wus named Nicy Oldman an' she worked in de field. My father wus named Billy Briggs, cause he 'longed to the Briggs family. I do not 'member seein' my father but one time. I never seen a slave sold or whupped, but I heard tell of it. My mother tole me 'bout marster whuppin' so severe. We had a rough boss. He had two colored foremen. Dey were slaves who 'longed to marster.

"Dere wus no patches allowed to any of the slaves, an' none of 'em had any money.

"We wus not allowed to have any prayer meetin's. Mother said she never knowed one on de plantation.

"Dere wus a lot of talk 'bout de patterollers but marster done his own sneakin' around. He done a lot of eavesdroppin'. My mother said when dey tho't he wus asleep he wus awake. He wus strict on his slaves an' I didn't know what church wus. No books of any kind wus allowed to slaves an' I can't read an' write.

"They give two days Christmas. Mother said dat had always been marster's rule.

"I 'member de cornshuckin's. Dey lasted two or three days. Dere wus enough slaves to shuck de corn. Dey had plenty of cider at corn shuckin's an' a lot better things to eat den at other times. Marster made corn, peas, an' tobacco on de farm, mostly corn. Dey had plenty hogs an' dat wus a time when dey killed 'em. Dryin' up de fat for lard, trimmin' an' saltin' de meat an' chitlins. De hog guts wus called chitlins. Slaves wus allowed to eat meats as soon as de hogs wus gutted. Dey wus allowed to boil some lean parts of de meat an' eat it at de killin's.

"We played base an' hide an' jumpin' when I wus a chile.

"When we got right smart an' sick we had a doctor. When we wus not mighty sick, we took tea made of catnip, sassafras, an' roots.

"Yes, I 'member when dey tole us we wus free. Mother got up de chilluns to leave. She got just a few clothes. I 'member seein' my uncle come to de house an' put up de horse. He put 'im in de stable an' we all lef' together. We went to my uncle 'bout five miles away on his marster's plantation. His marster wus named Harvey Roundtree. We stayed there three weeks, den we went to a white man's place, Bill Gates. We stayed there several years. Mother had six chilluns. Three wus boun' out for dere victuals an' clothes an' three wus with her.

"We come to Wake County when I wus fully grown. We come in a covered wagon. I saw father one time to 'member him. He died before de war closed, an' mother never married again. We went to Mr. Jeff Upchurch of Wake County an' worked on his farm. We stayed there ten or twelve years an' I married while we wus there. I married Albert Stephenson. We stayed right on there about six years after we married. We then went to Mr. Lonnie Stephen's place, the man who onct owned my husband's father. We stayed there two years workin' as day hands, then we rented a farm from Mr. Joe Smith. Dis wus de fust time any of us had ever farmed for ourselves. We kept it up until old age made us unable to farm an' all de chilluns had got grown an' lef' us.

"We had thirteen chilluns, an' six is livin' yet. My husband died two years ago dis comin' August.

"Slavery from what I knows an' whats been tole me wus a mighty bad thing. Don' see how some of de slaves stood it. I never did min' work but I is unable to work now. I has got a good will but I is worn out. De only way I lives is by goin' 'round 'mong my people. I have no home of my own."

LE

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 1519 Subject: SAM T. STEWART, EX-SLAVE Person Interviewed: Sam T. Stewart Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: Date stamp: JUN 1 1937]

SAM T. STEWART [HW: 84 years.]

"My name is Sam T. Stewart. I was born in Wake County, North Carolina Dec. 11, 1853. My father was a slave, A.H. Stewart, belonging to James Arch Stewart, a slave owner, whose plantation was in Wake County near what is now the Harnett County line of Southern Wake. Tiresa was my mother's name. James Arch Stewart, a preacher, raised my father, but my mother was raised by Lorenzo Franks, a Quaker in Wake County. When I was two years old James Arch Stewart sold my father to speculators, and he was shipped to Mississippi. I was too young to know my father.

"The names of the speculators were--Carter Harrison, and--, and a man named Roulhac. I never saw my father again, but I heard from him the second year of the surrender, through his brother and my aunt. My father died in Mississippi.

"The speculators bought up Negroes as a drover would buy up mules. They would get them together by 'Negro drivers', as the white men employed by the speculators were called. Their names were,----Jim Harris of Raleigh, and----yes, Dred Thomas, who lived near Holly Springs in Wake County. Wagon trains carried the rations on the trip to Mississippi. The drivers would not start until they had a large drove. Then the slaves were fastened together with chains. The chain was run between them, when they had been lined up like soldiers in double file. A small chain was attached to a Negro on the left and one to the Negro on the right and fastened to the main chain in the center. Billy Askew was another speculator. He lived on the corner of Salisbury and Carbarrus Street in Raleigh. Sometimes as many as thirty slaves were carried in a drove. They walked to Mississippi.

"My brothers and sisters are dead. Down on the plantations our houses were built of poles daubed with mud, with a rived board (split board). I had good beds, good clothes, and plenty to eat. We made it and we ate it. When a slave owner treated his slaves unusually good some other slave owner would tell him that he was raising slaves who would rise against him. Lorenzo Franks, who owned me and my mother, was a Quaker. He treated his slaves unusually well. He would not sell any of them. His brother was an Iron Side Baptist preacher, and he would tell his brother he was raising slaves who would rise against him. Franks owned seventeen slaves, I don't know how many Stewart owned."

[HW: m p. 6] [TR: Editor indicated three paragraphs on page 6 (page 322 of the volume) should have been moved here.]

"I did farm work in slavery time. I earned no money except what we made on patches. These patches were given to my mother by my master. We caught birds and game, sent it to town, and sold it for money. We caught birds and partridges in traps. Our master would bring them to town, sell them for us, and give us the money. We had a lot of possums and other game to eat. We got our food out of the big garden planted for the whole shebang. My master overseered his plantation.

"We didn't think much of the poor white man. He was down on us. He was driven to it, by the rich slave owner. The rich slave owner wouldn' let his Negroes sociate with poor white folks. Some of the slave owners, when a poor white man's land joined theirs and they wanted his place would have their Negroes steal things and carry them to the poor white man, and sell them to him. Then the slave owner, knowing where the stuff was, (Of course the slave had to do what his master told him.) would go and find his things at the poor white man's house. Then he would claim it, and take out a writ for him, but he would give him a chance. He would tell him to sell out to him, and leave, or take the consequences. That's the way some of the slave owners got such large tracks of lands.

"The free Negro was a child by a white man and a colored woman, or a white woman and a Negro slave. A child by a white man and a Negro woman was set free when the man got ready. Sometimes he gave the free Negro slaves. Oscar Austin, an issue, was set free and given slaves by his master and daddy. Old man Oscar Austin lived by the depot in Raleigh. He is dead now.

"When a child by a Negro man slave and a white woman arrived he could not be made a slave, but he was bound out until he was 21 years old. The man, who ever wanted him, had him bound to him by the courts and was his gardeen until he was 21 years old. He could not be made a slave if he was born of a free woman. There were jails for slaves called dungeons; the windows were small. Slaves were put into jail for misdemeanors until court was held, but a white man could not be kept there over 30 days without giving bond. Whites and slaves were kept in the same jail house, but in separate rooms.

"They never taught me to read and write; and most slaves who got any reading and writing certainly stole it. There were rules against slaves having books. If the patterollers caught us with books they would whip us. There were whipping posts on the plantation but patterollers tied Negroes across fences to whip them. There was no church on the plantation. We had prayer meetings in the cabins. We had big times at corn shuckings and dances. We all had plenty of apple and peach brandy but very few got drunk. I never saw a nigger drunk until after the surrender. We went to the white folks' church. We were partitioned off in the church.

"The patterollers visited our house every Saturday night, generally. We set traps to catch the patterollers. The patterollers were poor white men. We stretched grape vines across the roads, then we would run from them. They would follow, and get knocked off their horses. I knew many of the patterollers. They are mostly dead. Their children, who are living now in Wake County and Raleigh, are my best friends, and I will therefore not tell who they were. I was caught by the patterollers in Raleigh.

"I would have been whipped to pieces if it hadn't been for a white boy about my age by the name of Thomas Wilson. He told them I was his nigger, and they let me go. We had brought a load of lightwood splints in bundles to town on a steer cart. This was near the close of the war. We had sold out one load of splints had had been paid for them in Confederate money. We had several bills. We went into a bar and bought a drink, each paying one dollar a drink, or two dollars for two small drinks. The bar was in the house where the Globe Clothing Store is now located on the corner of Wilmington and Exchange Streets. Just as I swallowed my drink a constable grabbed me by the back of the neck, and started with me to the guard house, where they done their whippin'. Down at the guard house Nick Denton, the bar tender, told Thomas Wilson 'Go, tell the constable that is your nigger'. Thomas came running up crying, and told the constable I was his nigger. The constable told him to take me and carry me on home or he would whip both of us. We then hitched our ox to the cart and went home."

[TR: The editor indicated with lines that the following three paragraphs should be moved to page 2 of this interview (page 318 of the volume).]

"When I was a child I played marbles, 'Hail over', and bandy, a game played like golf. In striking the ball we knocked it at each other. Before we hit the ball we would cry, 'Shins, I cry', then we would knock the ball at our playmates. Sometime we used rocks for balls.

"We got Christmas holidays from Christmas to New Years day. This was also a time when slaves were hired out or sold. You were often put on the auction block at Christmas. There was a whipping post, an auction block, and jail located on Court House Square where the news stand is now located on Fayetteville Street. There was a well in the yard.

"We were treated by doctors when sick. We were given lots of herbs.

"I do not believe in ghosts.

"I did not feel much elated over hearing I was free, I was afraid of Yankee soldiers. Our mistress told us we were free. I farmed first year after the war. We had no horses, the Yankees had taken the horses, and some of us made a crap with grubbing hoes.

"I think Abraham Lincoln was a man who aimed to do good, but a man who never got to it. I cannot say anymore than that his intentions were good, and if he had lived he would have done more good."

[HW: ---- Insert from p. 6.]

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 326 Subject: Ex-slave recollections Person Interviewed: Emma Stone Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: Date stamp: JUN 7 1937]

Ex-Slave Recollections

An interview with Emma Stone, 77 of Heck's-Town, Durham, Durham County. May 21, 1937.

"My mammy wuz a Free Issue an' my pappy belonged ter de Bells in Chatham County. Pappy wuz named Edmund Bell, mammy wuz named Polly Mitchel. My sisters wuz Fanny, Jane, Ann, Josephine, Narcissus, and Cressie. My brothers wuz Lizah, Hilliard an' another one, but I doan 'member his name.

"Yo' knows dat I doan 'member much, but I does know dat days on de plantation wuz happy. When my mammy married pappy she moved ter de Bell's plantation so we chilluns, long wid her, wuz lak de udder slaves.

"De missus gib us her old hoop skirts ter play in an' we played nigh 'bout all de time. We wuz doin' dis when de Yankees comed by. Dey drives dere hosses up ter de gate an' dey says dat dey is lookin' fer Wheeler's Cavalry. We knows dat it done pass dar de day 'fore, but we is too skeered ter say a thing.

"De Yankees stays 'round dar fer a little while, an' dey gathers rations, den dey goes on atter Wheeler. We uster sing a song 'bout Wheeler's Cavalry but I only 'members dat it went lak dis:

"'Wheeler's Wheeler's Cav--al--ry,
Marchin' on de battlefield
Wheeler's Wheeler's Cav--al--ry
Marchin' on de battlefield.'

"It wuz really a game we played, while we marched an' pranced an' beat on tin pans. De missus ain't carin' case we is bein' true ter de south she thinks. Shucks we doan care nothin' 'bout Wheeler 'cept what we hyar, an dat ain't so good. We doan keer 'bout de Yankees nother, case we is skeered of dem.

"I hyard grown folkses praisen' Lincoln but I doan know much 'bout him. I doan know nothin' much 'bout none of it, but I does know dat it wuz on a Sunday dat de picket wuz lookin' fer Wheeler an' dat we wuz playin' hide an' seek."

N.C. District: No. 2 Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 848 Subject: WILLIAM SYKES Person Interviewed: William Sykes Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

WILLIAM SYKES

Ex-Slave Story

An interview with William Sykes 78, of State prison, Raleigh, N.C.

"My mammy Martha an' me we 'longed ter Mister Joshua Long in Martin County, an' my paw, Henry 'longed ter Squire Ben Sykes in Tyrell County. Squire Sykes lived in what wus called Gum Neck, an' he owned a hundert slaves or more an' a whole passel of lan'.

"I lived wid my mammy in Martin County from de fust dat I could 'member, me an' my brothers, Henry, Benjamin an' Columbus, an' my sisters Hester, Margaret, Lucy an' Susan.

"I doan 'member so much what happen 'fore de war, of course, but I does 'member a heap of little things. I knows dat Mister Long an' Mis' Catherine wus good ter us an' I 'members dat de food an' de clothes wus good an' dat dar wus a heap o' fun on holidays.

"Most o' de holidays wus celebrated by eatin' candy, drinkin' wine an 'brandy. Dar wus a heap o' dancin' ter de music of banjoes an' han' slappin'.

"We had co'n shuckin's, an' prayer meetin's, an' sociables an' singin's. I went swimmin' in de crick, went wid ole Joe Brown, a-possum huntin', an' coon huntin', an' I sometimes went a-fishin'.