Chapter VII: Part 7

"I go to church wid my white folks, but dey never have no church like dey have dese days. De bush was dey shelter en when it rain, dey meet round from one house to another. Ride to church in de ox cart cause I had to carry de baby everywhe' I go. White folks didn' have no horse den. De peoples sho been blessed wid more religion in dem days den dese days. Didn' never have to lock up nothin den en if you tell a story, you get a whippin. Now de peoples tell me to tell a story. I been cleanin up a lady porch en she tell me to tell anybody what come dere dat she ain' home. A lady come en ax fer her en I tell her she say anybody come here, tell em I ain' home. If you don' believe she here, look in de bedroom. Miss Willcox come out dere en beat me in de back. I tell her don' read de Bible en tell me to tell a story. I ain' gwine tell no story cause my white folks learnt me not to do dat. I knows people was better in dem times den dey is now. Dey teach you how you ought to treat your neighbor en never hear no bad stories nowhe'. Massa en Missus taught me to say a prayer dat go like dis:

"De angels in Heaven love us,
Bless mamma en bless papa,
Bless our Missus,
Bless de man dat feedin us,
For Christ sake."

"De peoples use herb medicines for dey cures in dem days dat dey get out de woods. I make a herb medicine dat good for anything out de roots of three herbs mix together. Couldn' tell you how I make it cause dat would ruin me. Town people try to buy de remedy from me, but Dr. McLeod tell me not to sell it. Dey offer me $1500.00 for it, but I never take it."

"You want my mind, my heart, de truth en I gwine tell you it just like I see it. Since de colored peoples got de law, dey get in all kind of devilment. Dat how-come if I had to go back, I would go back to slavery en stay wid my white folks."

Source: Sylvia Cannon, ex-slave, age 85, Florence. S. C.

Personal interview by H. Grady Davis and Mrs.
Lucile Young, and written up in question and
answer form. Rewritten in story form by Annie Ruth
Davis.

FUNERAL SONG

Star in de east en star in de west,
I wish de star was in my breast.
Mother is home, sweet home,
Mother is home, sweet home,
Want to join de angel here.
What a blessed home, sweet home,
What a blessed home, sweet home,
Want to join de angel here.

(You can sing bout father, brother, sister en all.)

Sylvia Cannon,

Ex-Slave, age 85,
May 21, 1937,
Florence, S. C.

FUNERAL SONG

Come ye dat love de Lord,
En let your joys be known.
Hark from de tomb,
En hear my tender voice.
By de grace of God I'll meet you
On Canaan Happy Shore.
Oh, mother, where will I meet you on Canaan Happy Shore?
En by de grace of God I'll meet you on Canaan Happy Shore.

(Shaking hands, marching around grave. White en Colored marched from church to graveyard. Old people in de ox cart en young people walking. Didn' have coffins like dey do now. Build de coffin en black it wid smut. Blacksmith make de nails. Could see in de box.)

Sylvia Cannon,
Ex-Slave, age 85,
May 21, 1937,
Florence, S. C.

Project No. 1885-(1)
Prepared by Mrs. Genevieve Chandler
Place, Murrells Inlet, S. C.
Date, March 25, 1937
Typed by M. C., N. Y. A.
No Words ----
Reduced from Words ----
Rewritten by ----

[~HW: Georgetown Co~]
[~HW: HEAVEN'S GATE CHURCH~]

(Verbatim conversation by Uncle Albert Carolina.):

When asked about the founding of Heaven's Gate colored Methodist church Rev. Albert Carolina answered:

"In the beginning of Freedom they separate us from whites.
'Sixty one the war begun;
Sixty four the war was o'er."

"Rev. Zacharias Duncan wuz the man. He the one built Heaven Gate church. Brother Henry Smith and Brother David Kidd and old man Jackson Heywood wuz the old ones built it. Some more been there. Can't think of them. Old man Jim Beaty wuz one. Can't remember no more. He wuz Allston man. (That means he was a slave owned by the Allstons) Uncle Dave Kidd, he owned a tract of land in the Savannah.

"Brought us up in Sabbus (Sabbath) school. Sunrise prayer-meeting. Ten o'clock Sunday school. Leven o'clock the service. Three o'clock service again. Eight at night--service again. Raise us taughen (taught) in the church. Steal off Slavery time in they own house and have class meeting. Driver come find'em, whip'em. Th' patrolls come riding down th' road. Four plait whip. Two big black dog. White pat-roller. Ketch without pass, they whip me. Crawling. (I was crawling). But I walk then and walk every since! Bo-cart. Dat's what they call it--'Bo-cart'. (Crude home made baby walker.) Bout seventy seven years since I start. Remember nother thing going on in them time. Mausser gin (give) the women a task. Didn't done it. Next day didn't done it. Saturday come, task time out! Driver! I tell yuh th' truth, you could hear those people, 'Murder! Murder!'

"Judge Kershaw was a fine man. His boy William--I and William born the same day.

"We never has met th' bed yet, without family prayer--and never get up without it. Didn't low them with a book in they hand. The Driver learn you at night if he like you. Try to out-wage (educate) you at night. Didn't have any school.

"Mother's father Indian. Brighter than, who? Who round here bright as my Grand-father? Hannah! Hair was long. Wouldn't stay home. Lives in th' swamp. Wouldn't stay out. Grandmother wuz African. She had a little bowl make out of clay."

Uncle Albert Carolina, age 87 (colored)
Murrells Inlet, S. C.
March 8th, 1937.

(A description followed of how his grand-parents built a kiln of clay pots and baked them.)

Project #-1655
Phoebe Faucette
Hampton County

SILVIA CHISOLM
Ex-Slave 88 Years Old

"Aunt Silvie", sitting out in the sunshine in the yard of a small negro cabin, on a warm day in January, seemed very old and feeble. Her answers to questions were rather short and she appeared to be preoccupied.

"I been fifteen year old when de Yankee come--fifteen de sixth of June. I saw 'em burn down me Massa's home, an' everythin'. I 'members dat. Ole man Joe Bostick was me Massa. An' I knows de Missus an' de Massa used to work us. Had de overseer to drive us! Work us till de Yankees come! When Yankee come dey had to run! Dat how de buildin' burn! Atter dey didn't find no one in it, dey burn! De Marshall house had a poor white woman in it! Dat why it didn't burn! My Massa's Pineland place at Garnett was burn, too. Dey never did build dis un (one) back. Atter dey come back, dey build deir house at de Pineland place.

"I wus mindin' de overseer's chillun. Mr. Beestinger was his name! An' his wife, Miss Carrie! I been eight year old when dey took me. Took me from me mother an' father here on de Pipe Creek place down to Black Swamp. Went down forty-two mile to de overseer! I never see my mother or my father anymore. Not 'til atter freedom! An' when I come back den I been married. But when I move back here, I stay right on dis Pipe Creek place from den on. I been right here all de time.

"Atter I work for Mr. Beestinger, I wait on Mr. Blunt. You know Mr. Blunt, ain't you? His place out dere now.

"Mr. Bostick was a good ole man. He been deaf. His chillun tend to his business--his sons. He was a preacher. His father was ole man Ben Bostick. De Pipe Creek Church was ole Missus Bostick's Mammy's church. When de big church burn down by de Yankees, dey give de place to de colored folks. Stephen Drayton was de first pastor de colored folks had. Dey named de church, Canaan Baptist Church. Start from a bush arbor. De white folks church was paint white, inside an' out. It was ceiled inside. Dis church didn't have no gallery for de colored folks. Didn't make no graveyard at Pipe Creek! Bury at Black Swamp! An' at Lawtonville! De people leave dat church an' go to Lawtonville to worship. Dey been worshipping at Lawtonville ever since before I could wake up to know. De Pipe Creek Church jes' stood dere, wid no service in it, 'til de Yankee burn it. De church at Lawtonville been a fine church. Didn't burn it! Use it for a hospital durin' de war!

"I'se 88 year old now an' can't remember so much. An' I'se blind! Blind in both eye!"

Source: Silvia Chisolm, R. F. D. Estill, S. C.

Project #1655
Stiles M. Scruggs
Columbia, S. C.

AN EX-SLAVE WHO CLIMBED UP
WITH WHITE FOLKS.

Tom Chisolm, a sixty-two year old bricklayer, 11 Railroad Street, Columbia, S. C., is a son of Caesar Chisolm, who represented Colleton County in the South Carolina House of Representatives for ten years. Caesar was one of the few leading Negroes, who voted and spoke for the Democratic Party and was friendly to the leaders of white supremacy until he died in 1897. Tom relates the following story:

"My daddy was born in slavery and he was always treated good by his master, de late Jimeson Chisolm, of Colleton County. He could read and figure up 'most anything, when he was set free, and he had notions of his own, too. For instance, he marry my mammy. She die soon after I was born, and daddy say to me: 'Son, your mammy is gone, but you need not fear dat any other woman will ever boss you. I's through with wives.' And he never marry again.

"I come to Columbia with him, when he serve in de Legislature. When he tell de niggers and white folks, back in Colleton, dat he was not aimin' to run for de Legislature no more, they was sad. One time I go with him to Smoak's, where Congressman George D. Tillman was to speak on one of his campaigns. I felt pretty big, when Congressman Tillman smile and grasp de hand of my daddy and say: 'You's goin' to say a few words for me befo' I starts, eh, Chisolm?' 'I sho' will, if you laks,' say my daddy. Soon he mount de platform, and befo' he say a word, both de white and de niggers clap deir hands and stamp deir feets and smile. My daddy bow, smile, and say: 'Ladies and gentlemen: We, us, and company sent George Tillman to Congress long ago and knows what he has done. Now we's gwine to send him back, and I is a little in doubt as to whether he is gwine to take us to Washington, or bring Washington down here!' He say, he jus' git started. But de crowd was laughin', dancin', and huggin' de Congressman, and daddy laugh and set down.

"He introduce Master Duncan Clinch Heyward at Walterboro in 1902, when Master Heyward was making his first race for governor. He raise such laughter and pay so many witty compliments to Master Heyward, dat Governor Heyward, when he was 'lected, appoint my daddy to an office in Columbia, and we come to Columbia to live in 1903. My daddy retire at de same time dat Governor Heyward quit office, in 1907. He later wrote insurance on de lives of niggers, and he prosper.

"'Bout 1885, my daddy happen to be walkin' near de corner of Gervais and Pulaski streets, and two niggers meet dere at de time and begin to quarrel. My daddy stop and watch them awhile. One of them niggers kill de other, and some time afterward a nigger lawyer come to see my daddy and ask him: 'Wasn't you dere?' 'I sho' was,' say my daddy. De nigger lawyer laugh and slap daddy on de back and say: 'Come on.' Daddy come back in a few hours pretty tipsy. 'Dat lawyer spend a lot on me,' say daddy, 'but de fool never let me tell him jus' what I knows.'

"A day or two afterward he was in de witness box. De nigger lawyer say: 'Now, Mister Chisolm, tell your tale in your own way.' Daddy say: 'I saw de defendant and de man, now dead, as they meet. They glare at each other and begin to talk harsh and cuss each other. Then, one strike at de other and they back 'way and begin to reach in deir hind pockets.' Daddy stop, and de nigger lawyer fairly scream: 'Yes, yes, go on!' 'That all I saw,' say my daddy, 'cause I run to cover. I made it to de next corner in nothin' flat and pick up speed afterward. So I was two blocks 'way, when I hear de shootin'!' De nigger lawyer nearly faint. He say: 'Who bought you off?' Daddy say he would have told him at de start, if he'd had de chance.

"At another time, we was down on de 700 block of Wayne Street, at a nigger gatherin'. We often spend days down dere collectin' weekly insurance dues, and we knowed most of de people. Dere happen to be a young nigger dere, back from de West for a visit, and he was a great bragger. He was tellin' 'bout corn in Texas. 'Dere,' he said, 'corn grow twenty feet high, with stalks as big as the arm of John L. Sullivan, when he whupped Kilrain, and half a dozen big ears on each stalk.' De crowd was thunderstruck.

"My daddy cleared his throat and say: 'Dat am nothin' in de way of corn. One day I was walkin' past a forty-acre patch of corn, on de Governor Heyward plantation by de Combahee River and de corn was so high and thick, I decide to ramble through it. 'Bout halfway over, I hears a commotion. I walks on and peeps. Dere stands a four-ox wagon backed up to de edge of de field, and two niggers was sawin' down a stalk. Finally they drag it on de wagon and drive off. I seen one of them, in a day or two, and asks 'bout it. He say: 'We shelled 366 bushels of corn from dat one ear, and then we saw 800 feet of lumber from de cob.'

"Dat young man soon slip out from de crowd and has never been seen here since. I thinks daddy was outdone with me, 'cause I was not quickwitted and smart, lak him. He tell me once: 'You must learn two good trades, and I think carpenterin' and brick-layin' safest.' I done that, and I has never been sorry, 'cause I's made a good livin'. Governor Heyward was always a good friend of daddy, and he was proud to see us makin' good in de insurance business."

Project 1885-1
FOLKLORE
Spartanburg Dist. 4
May 24, 1937
Edited by:
Elmer Turnage

STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES

"I was born near old Bush River Baptist Church, in Newberry County, S. C. I was the slave of John Satterwhite. My mother lived with them. I was a small girl when the war was on. My brother went to war with Marse Satterwhite. When de Ku Klux and paddrollers traveled around in that section, they made Mr. Satterwhite hold the niggers when they was whipped, but he most all the time let them loose, exclaiming, 'they got loose'--he did not want many of them whipped.

"My mother had a kitchen way off from the house, wid a wide fireplace where she cooked victuals. There was holes in back of de chimney with iron rods sticking out of them to hold de pans, pots, kettles or boilers.

"People there did not believe much in ghosts. They were not much superstitious, but one time some of the negroes thought they heard the benches in Bush River Baptist Church turn over when nobody was in the church.

"Negroes most always shouted at their religious meetings. Before de negroes had their own church meetings, the slaves went to the white folks' Bush River Baptist church and set up in the gallery. I moved to Newberry when I was young, after I got married."

Source: Maria Cleland, Newberry, S. C. (80 years old).
Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/17/37)

Project #1655
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.

PETER CLIFTON
EX-SLAVE, 89 YEARS OLD.

"You want me to start wid my fust memory and touch de high spots 'til dis very day? Dat'll take a long time but I glad to find someone to tell dat to; I is! I 'members when I was a boy, drivin' de calves to de pasture, a highland moccasin snake rise up in de path. I see dat forked tongue and them bright eyes right now. I so scared I couldn't move out my tracks. De mercy of de Lord cover me wid His wings. Dat snake uncoil, drop his head, and silently crawl away. Dat was on de Biggers Mobley place 'tween Kershaw and Camden, where I was born, in 1848.

"My pappy name Ned; my mammy name Jane. My brudders and sisters was Tom, Lizzie, Mary, and Gill. Us live in a log house wid a plank floor and a wooden chimney, dat was always ketchin' afire and de wind comin' through and fillin' de room wid smoke and cinders. It was just one of many others, just lak it, dat made up de quarters. Us had peg beds for de old folks and just pallets on de floor for de chillun. Mattresses was made of wheat straw but de pillows on de bed was cotton. I does 'member dat mammy had a chicken feather pillow she made from de feathers she saved at de kitchen.

"My grandpappy name Warren and grandmammy name Maria. De rule on de place was: 'Wake up de slaves at daylight, begin work when they can see, and quit work when they can't see'. But they was careful of de rule dat say: 'You mustn't work a child, under twelve years old, in de field'.

"My master's fust wife, I heard him say, was Mistress Gilmore. Dere was two chillun by her. Master Ed, dat live in a palace dat last time I visit Rock Hill and go to 'member myself to him; then dere was Miss Mary dat marry her cousin, Dr. Jim Mobley. They had one child, Captain Fred, dat took de Catawba rifles to Cuba and whip Spain for blowin' up de Maine. You say you rather I talk 'bout old master and de high spots? Well, Master Biggers had a big plantation and a big mansion four miles southeast of Chester. He buy my mammy and her chillun in front of de court house door in Chester, at de sale of de Clifton Estate. Then he turn 'round and buy my pappy dere, 'cause my mammy and sister Lizzie was cryin' 'bout him have to leave them. Mind you I wasn't born then. Marster Biggers was a widower then and went down and courted de widow Gibson, who had a plantation and fifty slaves 'tween Kershaw and Camden. Dere is where I was born.

"Marster had one child, a boy, by my mistress, Miss Sallie. They call him Black George. Him live long enough to marry a angel, Miss Kate McCrorey. They had four chillun. Dere got to be ninety slaves on de place befo' war come on. One time I go wid pappy to de Chester place. Seem lak more slaves dere than on de Gibson place. Us was fed up to de neck all de time, though us never had a change of clothes. Us smell pretty rancid maybe, in de winter time, but in de summer us no wear very much. Girls had a slip on and de boys happy in their shirt tails.

"Kept fox hounds on both places. Old Butler was de squirrel and 'possum dog. What I like best to eat? Marster, dere is nothin' better than 'possum and yallow sweet 'taters. Right now, I wouldn't turn dat down for pound cake and Delaware grape wine, lak my mistress use to eat and sip while she watch my mammy and old Aunt Tilda run de spinnin' wheels.

"De overseer on de place was name Mr. Mike Melton. No sir, he poor man but him come from good folks, not poor white trash. But they was cussed by marster, when after de war they took up wid de 'publican party. Sad day for old marster when him didn't hold his mouth, but I'll get to dat later.

"Marster Biggers believe in whippin' and workin' his slaves long and hard; then a man was scared all de time of being sold away from his wife and chillun. His bark was worse then his bite tho', for I never knowed him to do a wicked thing lak dat.

"How long was they whipped? Well, they put de foots in a stock and clamp them together, then they have a cross-piece go right across de breast high as de shoulder. Dat cross-piece long enough to bind de hands of a slave to it at each end. They always strip them naked and some time they lay on de lashes wid a whip, a switch or a strap. Does I believe dat was a great sin? No sir. Our race was just lak school chillun is now. De marster had to put de fear of God in them sometime, somehow, and de Bible don't object to it.

"I see marster buy a many a slave. I never saw him sell but one and he sold dat one to a drover for $450.00, cash down on de table, and he did dat at de request of de overseer and de mistress. They was uneasy 'bout him.

"They give us Christmas Day. Every woman got a handkerchief to tie up her hair. Every girl got a ribbon, every boy a barlow knife, and every man a shin plaster. De neighbors call de place, de shin plaster, Barlow, Bandanna place. Us always have a dance in de Christmas.

"After freedom when us was told us had to have names, pappy say he love his old Marster Ben Clifton de best and him took dat titlement, and I's been a Clifton ever since.

"Go way, white folks! What everthing mate for? De birds, de corn tassle and de silk, man and woman, white folks and colored folks mates. You ask me what for I seek out Christina for to marry. Dere was sumpin' 'bout dat gal, dat day I meets her, though her hair had 'bout a pound of cotton thread in it, dat just 'tracted me to her lak a fly will sail 'round and light on a 'lasses pitcher. I kept de Ashford Ferry road hot 'til I got her. I had to ask her old folks for her befo' she consent. Dis took 'bout six months. Everything had to be regular. At last I got de preacher, Rev. Ray Shelby to go down dere and marry us. Her have been a blessin' to me every day since.

"Us have seven chillun. They's scattered east, west, north, and south. De only one left is just David, our baby, and him is a baby six foot high and fifty-one years old.

"Yes sir, us had a bold, drivin', pushin', marster but not a hard-hearted one. I sorry when military come and arrest him. It was dis a way, him try to carry on wid free labor, 'bout lak him did in slavery. Chester was in military district no. 2. De whole state was under dat military government. Old marster went to de field and cuss a nigger woman for de way she was workin', choppin' cotton. She turnt on him wid de hoe and gashed him 'bout de head wid it. Him pull out his pistol and shot her. Dr. Babcock say de wound in de woman not serious. They swore out a warrant for Marster Biggers, arrest him wid a squad, and take him to Charleston, where him had nigger jailors, and was kicked and cuffed 'bout lak a dog. They say de only thing he had to eat was corn-meal-mush brought 'round to him and other nice white folks in a tub and it was ladeled out to them thru de iron railin' into de palms of dere hands. Mistress stuck by him, went and stayed down dere. The filthy prison and hard treatments broke him down, and when he did get out and come home, him passed over de river of Jordan, where I hopes and prays his soul finds rest. Mistress say one time they threatened her down dere, dat if she didn't get up $10,000 they would send him where she would never see him again.

"Well, I must be goin'. Some day when de crops is laid by and us get de boll weevil whipped off de field, I'll get David to bring me and dat gal, Christina, you so curious 'bout, to Winnsboro to see you. Oh, how her gonna laugh and shake her sides when I get home and tell her all 'bout what's down on dat paper! You say it's to be sent to Washington? Why, de President and his wife will be tickled at some of them things. I's sure they will. Dat'll make Christina have a great excitement when I tell her we is to be talked 'bout way up dere. I 'spect it will keep her wake and she'll be hunchin' me and asking me all thru de night, what I give in.

"Oh, well, I's thankful for dis hour in which I's been brought very near to de days of de long long ago. Maybe I'll get a pension and maybe I won't. Just so de Lord and de President take notice of us, is enough for me."

Project 1885-1
From Field Notes.
Spartanburg, Dist. 4
April 29, 1937
Edited by:
Elmer Turnage

FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro)

"I wuz born in Fairfield, dat is over yonder across Broad River, you knos what dat is, don't you? Yes sir, it wuz on Marse Johnson D. Coleman's plantation. And he had a plantation! Dese niggers here in Carlisle--and niggers is all dey is too--dey don't know what no plantation is. When I got big enough fer to step around, from de very fus, my maw took me in de big house. It still dat, cep it done bout fell down now, to what it wuz then. But some of Marse's folks, dey libs down dar still. Den you see, dey is like dese white folks up 'round here now. Dey ain't got no big money like dey had when I wuz a runnin' up. Time I got big enough fer to run aroun' in my shirt tail, my maw, she lowed one night to my paw, when he wuz settin by de fire, dat black little nigger over dar, he got to git hissef some pants kaise I'se gwine to put him up over de white fokes table. In dem times de doos and winders, dey nebber had no screen wire up to dem like dey is now. Fokes didn't know nothin bout no such as dat den. My Marster and all de other big white fokes, dey raised pea fowls. Is yu ebber seed any? Well, ev'y spring us little niggers, we coch dem wild things at night. Dey could fly like a buzzard. Dey roosted up in de pine trees, right up in de tip top. So de Missus, she hab us young uns clam up dar and git 'em when dey first took roost. Us would clam down and my maw, she would pull de long feathers out'n de tails. Fer weeks de cocks, dey wouldn't let nobody see 'em if dey could help it. Dem birds is sho proud. When dey is got de feathers, dey jus struts on de fences, and de fences wuz rail in dem days. If'n dey could see dereself in a puddle o' water after a rain, dey would stay dar all day a struttin' and carring on like nobody's business. Yes sir, dem wuz purty birds. After us got de feathers, de Missus, she'ud low dat all de nigger gals gwine to come down in de wash house and make fly brushes. Sometime de Missus 'ud gib some of de gals some short feathers to put in dere Sunday hats. When dem gals got dem hats on, I used to git so disgusted wid 'em I'd leave 'em at church and walk home by my sef. Anyway, by dat time all de new fly brushes wuz made and de Missus, she hab fans make from de short feathers for de white fokes to fan de air wid on hot days. Lawdy, I'se strayed fur from what I had started out fer to tell you. But I knowed dat you young fokes didn't know nothin' bout all dat. In dem days de dining room wuz big and had de windows open all de summer long, and all de doos stayed streched too. Quick as de mess of victuals began to come on de table, a little nigger boy was put up in de swing, I calls it, over de table to fan de flies and gnats off'en de Missus' victuals. Dis swing wuz just off'n de end of de long table. Some of de white fokes had steps a leadin' up to it. Some of 'em jus had de little boys maws to fech de young'uns up dar till dey got fru; den dey wuz fetched down again.

"Well, when I got my pants, my maw fetched me in and I clumb up de steps dat Marse Johnson had, to git up in his swing wid. At fus, dey had to show me jus how to hole de brush, kaise dem peacock feathers wuz so long, iffen you didn't mind your bizness, de ends of dem feathers would splash in de gravy er sumpin nother, and den de Missus table be all spattered up. Some o' de Marsters would whorp de nigger chilluns fer dat carelessness, but Marse Johnson, he always good to his niggers. Mos de white fokes good to de niggers round bout whar I comes from.

"It twad'nt long for I got used to it and I nebber did splash de feathers in no rations. But iffen I got used to it, I took to agoin to sleep up thar. Marse Johnson, he would jus git up and wake me up. All de white fokes at de table joke me so bout bein' so lazy, I soon stop dat foolishness. My maw, she roll her eyes at me when I come down atter de marster had to wake me up. Dat change like ever thing else. When I got bigger, I got to be house boy. Dey took down de swing and got a little gal to stand jus 'hind de Missus' chair and fan dem flies. De Missus low to Marse Johnson dat de style done change when he want to know how come she took de swing down. So dat is de way it is now wid de wimmen, dey changes de whole house wid de style; but I tells my chilluns, ain't no days like de ole days when I wuz a shaver.

"Atter de war, I come up to Shelton and got to de 'P' Hamilton place. I wuz grown den. I seed a young girl dar what dey called 'Evvie'. Her paw, he had b'longed to de Chicks, so dats who she wuz, Evvie Chick. Dar she sets in dat room by de fire. Now us got 'leven chilluns. Dey is scattered all about. Dey is good to us in our ole age. Us riz 'em to obey de Lawd and mine us. Dats all dey knows, and iffen fokes would do dat now, dey wouldn't have no sassy chilluns like I sees here in Carlisle.

"Evvie, what year wuz it we got married? Yes, dat's right. It wuz de year of de 'shake'. Is you heerd bout de 'shake'? Come out here Evvie and les tell him dat, kaise dese young fokes doan know nothin'. It wuz dark, and we wuz eatin' supper, when sumpin started to makin' de dishes fall out'n de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz somebody a jumpin' up and down on de flo. Den we knowed dat it wuz sumpin else er makin' dem dishes fall out o' de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz Judgment day, kaise ev'ry thing started fallin' worser and worser. De dishes fell so fast you couldn't pick'em up. Some of us went down to de spring. De white fokes, dey come along wid us and dey make us fetch things from de big house, like fine china dat de Missus didn't want to git broke up. She tole us dat it wuz er earthquake and it wasn't no day o' Judgment. Anyway, we lowed de white fokes might be wrong, so us niggers started to a prayin', and den all de niggers on de plantation dat heerd us, well de come along and jined wid us in de prayin' and singin'. Us wuz all a shakin' mos as bad as de earth wuz, kaise dat wuz a awful time dat we libbed through fer bout twenty minutes--de white fokes lowed it lasted only ten, but I ain't sho about dat. When we got back to de big house, de cupboard in de kitchen had done fell plum' down. In de nigger houses, de chimneys mos all fell in, and de chicken houses ev'rywhar wuz shuck down. While we wuz a lookin' aroun, and de wimmen fokes, dey wuz a takin' on mightily another shake come up. Us all took fer de spring agin; dis one lasted bout long as de first one. Us prayed and sung and shouted dis time. It sho stopped de earth a shakin' and a quiverin' some, kaise dat thing went on fer a whole week; ceptin de furs two wuz de heaviest. All de other ones wuz lighter. Iffen it hadn't been fur us all a beggin' de Lawd fer to sho us his mercy, it ain't no tellin' how bad dem shakes would er been. Miss Becky Levister, you know her, she live up yander in your uncle John's house now, she wuz wid us. She wuz jus a little girl den. Her paw wuz Mr. Kelly. He died for ever you wuz born. Not long ago I seed her. She lowed to me, 'uncle Henry, do you recollect in de time o' de shake? Lacken she think I'd fergit such as dat. It wuz in de time o' de worsest things dis ole nigger is ebber seed hisself, and I is gwine on 82 now. Miss Becky, she wuz a settin' in her car wid some one drivin' her, but she ain't fergot dis ole nigger. If I is up town and Miss Becky, she ride by, she look out and lows' 'Howdy uncle Henry', and I allus looks up and raises my hat. I likes mannerable white fokes, mysef, and den, I likes mannerable niggers fer as dat goes. Some of dese fokes, now both white--I hates to say it--and niggers, dey trys to act like dey ain't got no sense er sumpin'. But you know one thing I knos real fokes when I sees dem and dey can't fool me."

Aunt Evvie tells the following story about her father, Rufus Chick. The story is known by all of the reliable white folks of the surrounding neighborhood also: "My paw, Rufus Chick, lived on the Union side of Broad River, the latter days of his life. Maj. James B. Steadman had goats over on Henderson Island that my paw used to care for. He went over to the Island in a batteau. One afternoon, he and four other darkies were going over there when the batteau turned over. The four other men caught to a willow bush and were rescued. My paw could not swim, and he got drowned. For three weeks they searched for his body, but they never did find it. Some years after, a body of a darky was found at the mouth of the canal, down near Columbia. The body was perfectly petrified. This was my paw's body. The canal authorities sent the body to a museum in Detroit. It was January 11, 1877 when my father got drowned.

"When I wuz a young fellow I used to race wid de horses. I wuz de swifes runner on de plantation. A nigger, Peter Feaster, had a white horse of his own, and de white fokes used to bet amongst de selves as much as $20.00 dat I could outrun dat horse. De way us did, wuz to run a hundred yards one way, turn around and den run back de hundred yards. Somebody would hold de horse, and another man would pop de whip fer us to start. Quick as de whip popped, I wuz off. I would git sometimes ten feet ahead of de horse 'fore dey could git him started. Den when I had got de hundred yards, I could turn around quicker dan de horse would, and I would git a little mo' ahead. Corse wid dat, you had to be a swift man on yer feets to stay head of a fas horse. Peter used to git so mad when I would beat his ole horse, and den all de niggers would laf at him kaise de white fokes give me some of de bettin money. Sometimes dey would bet only $10.00, sometimes, $15 or $20. Den I would race wid de white fokes horses too. Dey nebber got mad when I come out ahead. After I got through, my legs used to jus shake like a leaf. So now, I is gib plum out in dem and I tributes it to dat. Evvie, she lowed when I used to do dat after we wuz married, dat I wuz gwine to give out in my legs, and sho nuf I is."

"Uncle" Henry says that his legs have given out in the bone.

Source: Henry Coleman and his wife, Evvie, of Carlisle, S. C.
Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.

Project 1885-1
District #4
Spartanburg, S. C.
May 31, 1937

FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES

"I was born about 1857 and my wife about 1859. I lived on Squire Keller's farm, near the Parr place, and after the squire died I belonged to Mrs. Elizabeth (Wright) Keller. My mother died when I was a boy and my father was bought and carried to Alabama. My father was Gilliam Coleman and my mother, Emoline Wright. My master and mistress was good to me. The old Squire was as fine a man as ever lived on earth. He took me in his home and took care of me. After the war the mistress stayed on the place and worked the slaves right on, giving them wages or shares.

"The slaves were not whipped much; I 'member one man was whipped pretty bad on Maj. Kinard's place. He had a colored man to do whipping for him--his name was Eph. There was no whiskey on the place, never made any. Us did cooking in the kitchen wid wide fireplaces.

"When the Yankees came through at the end of the war, they took all the stock we had. The mistress had a fine horse, its tail touching the ground, and we all cried when it was taken; but we got it back, as some men went after it.

"I married in 1874 to Ellen T. Williams. She belonged to Bill Reagan. After I married I worked in the railroad shops at "Helena", and sometimes I fired the engine on the road, for about eight years. Then I went into the ministry. I was called by the Spirit of the Lord, gradually, and I preached 51 years. I have been superannuated two years.

"I have one child, a son, who is in the pullman service at Washington, D. C.

"I owned my little house and several acres and am still living on it."

Source: Rev. Tuff Coleman and wife (80 and 78), Newberry, S. C.
Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.

Code No.
Project, 1885-(1)
Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
Place, Marion, S. C.
Date, May 27, 1937
No. Words ----
Reduced from ---- words
Rewritten by ----

MOM LOUISA COLLIER
Ex-Slave, 78 years.

"I born en raise up dere in Colonel Durant yard en I in my 78th year now. Dat seem lak I ole, don' it? Coase Colonel Durant hab plenty udder colored peoples 'sides us, but dey ne'er lib dere in de yard lak we. Dey lib up in de quarters on de plantation. My pappy name Ben Thompson en he hadder stay dere close to de big house cause he wus de Colonel driver. De Colonel hab uh big ole carriage wha' to ride in den. It hab uh little seat in de front fa my pappy to set in en den it hab two seat 'hind de driver whey de Colonel en he family is ride. I kin see dat carriage jes uz good right now dat my white folks hab to carry em whey dey is wanna go."

"Den my mammy come from de udder side uv Pee Dee en she name, Lidia Bass. She was de servant 'round de yard dere en dat count fa we to ne'er stay in de quarters wid de udder colored peoples 'fore freedom declare. I ne'er hadder do no work long uz I lib dere in de yard cause I ain' been but five year ole when freedom declare. My grandmammy lib right dere close us en Colonel Durant hab she jes to look a'ter aw de plantation chillun when dey parents wuz workin'. Aw uv de plantation peoples 'ud take dey chillun dere fa my grandmammy to nu'se."

"I 'member one day dere come uh crowd uv peoples dere dat dey tell us chillun wuz de Yankees. Dey come right dere t'rough de Colonel yard en when I see em, I wuz 'fraid uv em. I run en hide under my grandmammy bed. Don' know wha' dey say cause I ain' ge' close 'nough to hear nuthin wha' dey talk 'bout. De white folks hadder herry (hurry) en put t'ings in pots en bury em or hide em somewhey when dey hear dat de Yankees wus comin' cause dey scare dem Yankees might take dey t'ings lak dey is carry 'way udder folks t'ings. I hear em say dey ne'er take nuthin from de Colonel but some uv he wood."

"My white folks was well-off peoples en dey ain' ne'er use no harsh treatment on dey plantation peoples. De Colonel own aw dis land 'bout here den en he see dat he overseer on de plantation provide plenty uv eve't'ing us need aw de time. I hear tell 'bout some uv de white folks 'ud beat dey colored peoples mos' to death, but I ain' ne'er see none uv dat no whey. I is 'member when dey'ud sell some uv de colored peoples way offen to annuder plantation somewhey. Jes been bid em offen jes lak dey wuz cattle. Some uv de time dey'ud sell uh man wife 'way en den he hadder ge' annuder wife."

"A'ter freedom declare, we ne'er lib dere at de big house no more. Move in de colored settlement en den we ain' eat at de big house no more neither. Dey le' us hab uh garden uv we own den en raise us own chicken en aw dat. I 'member de Colonel gi'e us so mucha t'ing eve'y week en it hadder las' us from one Saturday to de next. My mammy 'ud go to de Colonel barn eve'y week en ge' she portion uv meal en meat. Dat de way dey pay de hand fa dey work den. Ne'er gi'e em no money den."

"Peoples wha' lib on Colonel Durant plantation ain' know nuthin but to lib on de fat uv de land. Dey hab plenty cows den en dey gi'e us plenty uv milk eve'y day. I 'member we chillun use'er take we tin cup en go up to de big house en ge' us milk to drink en den some uv de cows 'ud be so gentle lak dat we chillun is follow em right down side de path. Den when dere ne'er wuz nobody lak de Colonel overseer 'bout to see us, we is ketch de cow en ge' some more milk. I al'ays'ud lub to drink me milk dat way. We is eat plenty green peas en 'tatoes en fish in dem days too en dey is use 'tatoe pie right smart den."

"Aw de colored peoples on Colonel Durant plantation hab good bed wha' to sleep on en good clothes to put on dey back. Coase we ne'er hab no bought fu'niture in dem days, but we hab bedstead wha' dey make right dere en benches en some uv de time dey is make wha' dey call 'way back chair. Den we is make us own bed outer hay cause de white folks ne'er spare de colored peoples no cotton den. Hadder cut de hay in de fall uv de year en dry it jes lak dey dries it fa to feed de cattle on. Den dey hadder take sack en sew em up togedder en put de hay in dese. Dey sleep right smart in dem days. Don' mucha people sleep on straw bed dese day en time en dey don' dress lak dey use'er neither. I 'member de long dress dey is wear den. Hadder hold em up when dey walk so dey won' tetch de floor 'bout em. Den some uv dem is wear wha' dey call leggens. Dey'ud gather em 'round de knee en le' em show 'bout de ankle. Dey wuz pretty, dat dey wuz. De white folks'ud make de plantation clothes outer calico en jeanes cloth en dat time. De jeanes cloth be wha' dey make de boy clothes outer. Dey is weave aw dey cloth right dere on de plantation en den dey use'er dye de thread en weave aw sorta check outer de different color thread. Wha' dey make de dye outer? Dey ge' bark outer de woods en boil de color outer it en den dey boil de thread in dat. Dat how dey is make dey dye. Ne'er see de peoples hab no hat lak dey hab now neither. Aw de colored peoples wear wha' dey call shuck hat den cause dey been make outer shuck. Dat aw de kinder hat we is hab."

"Peoples use'er ge' aw kinder useful t'ing outer de woods in dem days 'way back dere. Ne'er hadder buy no me'icine tall den. Ain' ne'er been no better cough cure no whey den de one my ole mammy use'er make fa we chillun. She larnt 'bout how it made when she stay 'round de Missus en dat how come I know wha' in it. Jes hadder go in de woods en ge' some cherry, call dat wild cherry, en cut some uv de wild cherry bark fust (first) t'ing. A'ter dat yuh hadder find some uv dese long-leaf pine en ge' de bud outer dat. Den yuh hadder go to whey dere some sweet gum grow en ge' de top outer dem en ge' some mullen to put wid it. Ain' ne'er no cough stand aw dat mix up togedder in no day en time. Dey gi'e dat to de peoples fa dat t'ing wha' dey use'er call de grip cough. Den dey use'er make uh t'ing dat dey call "bone set" tea. I forge' how dey make it but dey gi'e it to de peoples when dey hab de fevers. It been so bitter dat it'ud lift yuh up 'fore yuh is ge' it aw down de t'roat. Ain' see no fever me'icine lak dat nowadays."

"Yas'um, I 'members when dey hab plenty uv dem cornshucking to one annuder barn. De peoples'ud come from aw de plantation 'bout dere. Dem corn-shuckings wuz big times, dat dey wuz. Gi'e eve'body aw de "hopping-john" dey kin eat. Jes cook it aw in uh big pot dere in de yard to de big house. Ain' nuthin ne'er eat no better den dat "hopping-john" is eat."

"Den de peoples use'er come from aw de plantation 'bout en hab big dancing dere. Dat when I lub to be 'bout. Dey hab uh big fire build up outer in de yard en dat wha' dey dance 'round 'bout. Call dat uh torch fire. Dey'ud hab fiddle en dey dance wha' dey call de reel dance den. I 'member I use'er lub to watch dey feet when dat fiddle 'ud ge' to playing. I jes crawl right down on me knees dere whey I'ud see dey feet jes uh going."

"I ne'er hab mucha schooling 'fore freedom declare cause I been raise up on de plantation. Dis child (her daughter) pappy wuz de house boy to de big house en he ge' more schooling den I is. De Missus larnt he how to read en write she self. A'ter freedom declare, I go to school to uh white man up dere to de ole Academy en den I is go to annuder school down dere to uh blacksmith shop. I go to uh white man dere too. Ne'er hab no colored teacher den cause dey ain' hab 'nough schooling den. Dese chillun don' know nuthin 'bout dem times. I tell dese chillun I don' know wha' dey wanna run 'bout so mucha cause dere plenty t'ing to see dat pass right dere by us house eve'y day. I t'ink dis uh better day en time to lib en cause dis uh brighter day now dat we hab."

Source: Mom Louisa Collier, age 78, colored, Marion, S. C
Personal interview, May 1937.

Project #1655
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.

JOHN COLLINS
EX-SLAVE, 85 YEARS OLD.

John Collins lives in a two-room frame cottage by the side of US 21, just one mile north of the town of Winnsboro, S. C. on the right side of the highway and a few hundred yards from the intersection of US 21 and US 22. The house is owned by Mr. John Ameen. His son, John, who lives with him, is a farm hand in the employ of Mr. John Ameen, and is his father's only support.

"They tells me dat I was born in Chester County, just above de line dat separates Chester and Fairfield Counties. You know where de 'dark corner' is, don't you? Well, part is in Fairfield County and part is in Chester County. In dat corner I first see de light of day; 'twas on de 29th of February, 1852. Though I is eighty-five years old, I's had only twenty-one birthdays. I ketches a heap of folks wid dat riddle. They ask me: 'How old is you Uncle John?' I say: 'I is had twenty-one birthdays and won't have another till 1940. Now figure it out yourself, sir, if you is so curious to know my age!' One time a smart aleck, jack-leg, Methodist preacher, of my race, come to my house and figured all day on dat riddle and never did git de correct answer. He scribbled on all de paper in de house and on de back of de calendar leaves. I sure laughed at dat preacher. I fears he lacked some of dat good old time 'ligion, de way he sweated and scribbled and fussed.

"My daddy was name Steve Chandler. My mammy was called Nancy. I don't know whether they was married or not. My daddy was sent to Virginia, while de war was gwine on, to build forts and breastworks around Petersburg, so they say, and him never come back. I 'members him well. He was a tall black man, over six feet high, wid broad shoulders. My son, John, look just lak him. Daddy used to play wid mammy just lak she was a child. He'd ketch her under de armpits and jump her up mighty nigh to de rafters in de little house us lived in.

"My mammy and me was slaves of old Marse Nick Collins. His wife, my mistress, was name Miss Nannie. Miss Nannie was just an angel; all de slaves loved her. But marster was hard to please, and he used de lash often. De slaves whisper his name in fear and terror to de chillun, when they want to hush them up. They just say to a crying child: 'Shet up or old Nick will ketch you!' Dat child sniffle but shet up pretty quick.

"Marster didn't have many slaves. Best I 'member, dere was about twenty men, women, and chillun to work in de field and five house slaves. Dere was no good feelin's 'twixt field hands and house servants. De house servants put on more airs than de white folks. They got better things to eat, too, than de field hands and wore better and cleaner clothes.