Part 1

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SLAVE NARRATIVES

_A Folk History of Slavery in the United States_

_From Interviews with Former Slaves_

TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY

THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT

1936-1938

ASSEMBLED BY

THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT

WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION

FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

_Illustrated with Photographs_

WASHINGTON 1941

VOLUME XIV

SOUTH CAROLINA NARRATIVES--PART 3

Prepared by the Federal Writers' Project of

the Works Progress Administration

for the State of Alabama

[HW:] Handwritten note

[TR:] Transcriber's note

INFORMANTS

- Adeline Jackson

- Cordelia Anderson Jackson

- Agnes James

- Fred James

- Isiah Jeffries

- Thomas Jefferson

- Henry D. Jenkins

- Maria Jenkins

- Paul Jenkins

- Emma Jeter

- Adeline Hall Johnson

- Anna Johnson

- Jack Johnson

- James Johnson

- Rev. James H. Johnson

- Jane Johnson

- Jimmie Johnson

- Mary Johnson

- Miemy Johnson

- Tom Johnson

- Richard (Look-up) Jones

- Wesley Jones

- Sallie Layton Keenan

- Ella Kelly

- Martha Kelly

- Mary Jane Kelley

- Gabe Lance

- Ephriam (Mike) Lawrence

- Ben Leitner

- Mary Ann Lipscomb

- Govan Littlejohn

- Easter Lockhart

- Gable Locklier

- Walter Long

- Gillam Lowden

- Emma Lowran

- Nellie Loyd

- Amie Lumpkin

- Ballam Lyles

- Eison Lyles

- Moses Lyles

- George McAlilley

- Ed McCrorey (Mack)

- Richard Mack

- Jake McLeod

- Bill McNeil

- Andy Marion

- Milton Marshall

- Charlie Meadow

- Albert Means

- Andrew Means

- Jason Miller

- Lucinda Miller

- Cureton Milling

- Abbey Mishow

- Sam Mitchell

- Charity Moore

- Sena Moore

- Silas Nelson

- Susan Nelson

- William Oliver

- Albert Oxner

- Ann Palmer

- George Patterson

- Sallie Paul

- Lina Anne Pendergrass

- Amy Perry

- Rob Perry

- Victoria Perry

- John Petty

- Sarah Poindexter

- Sam Polite

- William Pratt

- Henry Pristell

- Junius Quattlebaum

Adeline Jackson

*Interview with Adeline Jackson, 88 years old* --_W.W. Dixon, Winnsboro, S.C._

"I was born four miles southwest of where I is now, on de other side of Woodward Station. I was a slave of old Marster John Mobley, de richest man, de larges' land owner, and wid more niggers than any other white man in de county. He was de seventh son of de seventh son, so he allowed, and you knows dat's a sign of a big family, lots of cows, mules, horses, money, chillun and everything dat's worth havin'. He had a good wife too; dis de way he got her, he say. She de daughter of old Maj. Andy McLean, who got a body full of bullets in de Revolution; he didn't want Katie to marry Marster John. Marster John git on a mule and ride up in de night. Miss Katie runned out, jump up behin' him, run away and marry Marster John. They had de same birthday, March 27th, but Marster John two years older than Miss Katie. Dat day was looked to, same as Christmas, every year dat come. Big times then, I tell you!

"My mistress had long hair, techin' de floor and could dance, so Marster John said, wid a glass of water on top of her head. Marster John got 'ligion and went all de way lak de jailer in de Bible. All de house jined wid him and mos' of de slaves. It was Baptist and he built a spankin' good church buildin' down de road, all out of his own money, and de cemetery dere yet. He called it 'Fellowship.' Some fine tombstones in dere yet. De finest cost two thousand dollars, dat's his daughter Nancy's tomb. Marster John and my old mistress buried in dere.

"When my younges' mistress, name Marion Rebecca, married her second cousin, Marster Edward P. Mobley, I was give to her and went wid them to de June place. It was called dat because old Doctor June built it and sold it to Marster Ed. I nussed her first chillun: Edward, Moses Hill, John and Katie. It was a large, two-story frame house, with chimneys at each gable end. Marster Edward got to be as rich as old marster; he owned de June place, de Rochelle plantation, de Peay place and de Roebuck place. Yes sir, course us had overseers for so many slaves and plantations. I 'member Mr. Oze Brown, Mr. Neely and Mr. Tim Gladney. In course of time I was took off de nussin' and put to de field. I drapped cotton seed, hoed some, and picked cotton.

"I don't 'member no poor buckra, outside de overeeers, 'cept a Mr. Reed dat lived down on wateroe, passin' our house sometime. He was a Godforsaken lookin' man dat marster or mistress always give somethin'.

"Our neighbors was de Pearys, de Durhams, de Picketts, de Barbers and Boulwares. Doctor Henry Gibson was our doctor. All dese folks kep' a pack of hounds to run deer and foxes. Yes, I has eat many pieces of deer. Good? I wouldn't fool you, taste it and you'll hunger for it ever afterward.

"Yes sir, at certain times we worked long and hard, and you had to be 'ticular. De only whipping I got was for chopping down a good corn stalk near a stump in a new ground. Marster never sold a slave but swaps were made wid kin people to advantage, slaves' wives and husbands sometimes. I never learned to read or write. I went to White Poplar Springs Church, de Baptist church my mistress 'tended. De preacher was Mr. Cartledge. He allowed Miss Marion was de flower of his flock.

"Slaves lived in quarters, a stretch of small houses off from de White House. Patrollers often come to search for stray slaves; wouldn't take your word for it. They would search de house. If they ketch one widout a pass, they whipped him. We got most our outside news Sunday at church. When farm work was not pressing, we got all of Saturday to clean up 'round de houses, and wash and iron our clothes.

"Everything lively at Christmas time, dances wid fiddles, pattin' and stick rattlin', but when I jined de church, I quit dancin'.

"After de war, a man came along on a red horse; he was dressed in a blue uniform and told us we was free. De Yankees dat I 'members was not gentlefolks. They stole everything they could take and de meanest thing I ever see was shoats they half killed, cut off de hams, and left de other parts quiverin' on de ground.

"I married Mose Jackson, after freedom, and had a boy, Henry. Last I heard, he was at Shelby, North Carolina. We had a daughter, Mary, she married Eph Brown. She had ten chillun, many gran' chillun, they's my great-gran' chillun. My mistress was a good Christian woman, she give me a big supper when I was married. Her house, durin' de war, always had some sick or wounded soldier. I 'member her brother, Zed, come home wid a leg gone. Her cousin, Theodore, was dere wid a part of his jaw gone. My mistress could play de piano and sing de old songs. I 'members Marster Theodore had trouble wid de words. Dere was a song called 'Jaunita', 'bout a fountain. Marster Theodore would try hard, but would say, everytime, 'Jawneeta', and de folks would laugh but mistress never would crack a smile but just go on wid another song. I thinks everybody should jine de church and then live right. Have prayers in de family befo' gitting in de bed. It would have good change, 'specially in de towns I thinks.

"Yes, women in family way worked up to near de time, but guess Doctor Gibson knowed his business. Just befo' de time, they was took out and put in de cardin' and spinnin' rooms.

"Yes, I see folks put irons in de fire and some throw a big chunk of fire into de yard to make de screech owl stop his scary sounds.

"Befo' I forgits, Marster Edward bought a slave in Tennessee just 'cause he could play de fiddle. Named him 'Tennessee Ike' and he played 'long wid Ben Murray, another fiddler. Sometime all of us would be called up into de front yard to play and dance and sing for Miss Marion, de chillun and visitors. I was much happier them days than now. Maybe it won't be so bad when I gits my old age pension."

Cordelia Anderson Jackson

*Interview with Cordelia Anderson Jackson, 78 years old* *157 Kings St. Spartanburg, S.C.* --_Caldwell Sims, Union, S.C._

Cordelia lives in a small shack with some friends. She is quite an actor and a tireless teller of yarns. She still ties her head up in a white rag and has large eyes set far apart and a very flat nose. She is ebony colored. She is a firm believer in her religion and she enjoys shouting on any occasion for joy or for sorrow.

"White folks tells stories 'bout 'ligion. Dey tells stories 'bout it kaise dey's 'fraid of it. I stays independent of what white folks tells me when I shouts. De Spirit moves me every day, dat's how I stays in. White folks don't feel sech as I does; so dey stays out. Can't serve God all de time; allus something getting in de way. Dey tries me and den I suddenly draps back to serving de Holy God. Never does it make no difference how I's tossed about. Jesus, He comes and saves me everytime. I's had a hard time, but I's blessed now--no mo' mountains.

"Ever since I a child I is liked white folks. Dey's good and dey does not know why dey tells stories 'bout Jesus. I got a heap mo' in slavery dan I does now; was sorry when Freedom got here. I 'specks I is nigh to a hundred, but dat's so old. I jest calls myself any whars twixt seventy-five and a hundred. I recollects slavery, though. Ma was Charlotte Anderson and she lived in Union County wid de Tuckers, jest across from de Richards Quarter.

"Biggest sight I ever see'd was dat balloon when it come down on Pea Ridge. De man in it everybody addressed as Professor (Prof. Lowe--1861). He let uncle Jerry git in it. Mr. McKissick helped uncle Jerry up in it. It was de first balloon ever come to Union county, and 'til dis day I don't like no balloons.

"Airplanes jest tickles, I cannot tell you how come, but dey jest does. I went out dar (throwing her arm in the direction of the landing field) and see'd 'em light. Dressed-up white folks hopped down out'n it from a little do' dat a man wid leg'uns and a cap on opened. Thing gwine on wid lots of burring and all like dat. When dem folks got out, some mo' clam'ned in. Dat same man opened de do', shot (shut) it, and de plane tuck off. White folks 'lowed dat it was gwine to 'lanta, Ga.

"Right dar I 'low'd, when I goes up like dat, I sho ain't gwine up wid no man--I'se gwine up wid Jesus.

"Dat white woman [HW: Amelia Earhardt] went up and ain't nobody found her yet and it been two months. Lawd, she looking fer de world's end. God don't mean fer womens to do nothing like dat. Womens is stumbling blocks at times.

"I got a boy dat been through school. He stays off, but he treats me so good and talks to me like white folks does; so I calls him, 'white child'. I 'longs to de church club. He tries to larn me to talk proper when I goes out to dem meetings, but I fergits how befo' I reaches de meeting. Us named it de 'Mothers' Club'. 'White child' pays fer me to 'long dar, and when I is down wid spells, dey nurses me. 'White child' pays fer my 'onsurance' so dat I does not have no worriment to aggravate my soul.

"White child birthed one Sunday morning jest a year atter de big earthquake. It was also Christmas morning, kaise my child drapped a year to de day atter dat earthquake and I feared dat he was not gwinter have no sense. But My God, how he can read!

"One night, Aug. 30th, our house started rocking. We thought a panther was a-rocking it, kaise my old man had see'd one. He run out wid a gun and went to de wood pile; den he hollered to me and said, 'Delia, come out here, de whole world is shaking'. God sho showed his power dat night. Ever since dat I been fixed wid God. It won't long atter dat, us heard a noise in our other room. Old man went in dar and see'd a panther climbing up fer our rations. He grabbed his gun from over de do' and shot dat panther in de corner.

"I used to think dat niggers was fools dat called me a nigger. I go and tell Miss Nellie Tucker. She 'low, 'No, you ain't no nigger when other niggers calls you one.' Marse William whistle like a partridge; den Miss Nellie play her pianny. I dance and Marse send fer me a sugar and butter biscuit. Marse git his banjo and he pick it fer me to sing 'Oh, Bob white, is your wheat ripe? No, no, not quite.' Dat when I lived as a little gal on Marse William's home tract, called Musgrove Tract.

VISION: "Was traveling in a gold chariot to Heaven. De overseer had come to bleed me, but I went up. Something say to look back and see whar you been. I looked back and said, 'Lawd, take me whar no rent won't bother me!' Lawd answer, 'Do not pray dat way. Pray fer Him to do His will'. Den I axed de Lawd whar is I. He say, 'Did you look down on dem chimneys?' Den I see'd dat I was in de chariot wid water all under me. It looked like de sky.

"To-day, I am so glad to walk about in Jesus' care. I wish people could see my faith. I am a Christian."

Agnes James

*Interview with Mom Agnes James, 80 years old* *Claussens, S.C.* --_Annie Ruth Davis_

"Yes'um, I used to live in slavery time, but de Lord above know, I sho don' really recollect nothin much to tell you 'bout slavery time. I don' know exactly how old I is. Think I 'bout 80 some odd. Think dat 'bout de age Bubba Gregg say I is. I tell you, I was so chillunfied in slavery time, I ain' had no time to study 'bout no age. I say, I was so chillunfied. Yes'um, dat it. Dat somethin dat I ought to had ax my grandmammy 'bout how old I is, so den I might could call it up to you right sharp. Oh, I wishes now I had ax my grandmammy dat word fore she die.

"Us belong to Mr. Hector Cameron fore freedom come here. Right down dere to Salem Church, dat whe' I was born. You hear talk of Miss Janie Little over dere to Marion, ain' you? Dat who used to be my mittie in dem days. Yes, mam, boss had pick me out to tend to Miss Janie. You see, he give all his daughters one of us to have a care for dem.

"My white folks, dey had a right smart of colored people dey own en far as I can reckon, dey been spend mighty good treatment to dem all de time. I know 'bout old Miss used to love to feed us, my mercy! White folks would send for all us chillun to go up to de big house en get somethin to eat twixt meals. Yes'um, dey had a colored people quarter dat been settin way back up on de hill. Had to have a quarter 'cause dat whe' us been stay all de time old Miss won' stuffin' somethin down we mouth. I remember, dere used to was de most pretty flowers in de lane gwine through dem woods from us house right up to old Massa's yard en my Lord, honey, I did love to be de first one long dere on a mornin to see could I find a blossom to fetch to old Miss. Look like old Miss would be so please to see my granny marchin all we chillun up dat path 'cause when we would go dere on a mornin, she would set right down on de steps en talk wid us. Would set dere in listen to see could all us say dat prayin blessin she had learned us to speak fore she would hand us anything to eat. Den she would give us everyone a spoonful of dis here worm cure. Great Jerusalem! Miss would make dat herself out dese black lookin seed mixed up in molasses. I remember, she would bring a big bowl of dat out dere en would make Pickle tote it round for her while she put it in us mouth. Yes, mam, Miss would give us all a spoonful of dat every mornin en den she would ax us de next mornin if any us had any worms. No, mam, she never didn' give us any other kind of medicine as I can remember. Just give us dat en den feed us some milk en bread. Dat all she give us, but I tell you, I was as proud of dat milk en bread as I is of de rations I get dese days 'cause I never know no different den. No'um, didn' nobody eat den like dey do now. All de people would make dey own gardens in dem days en would fix soup en fry meat. I used to been so glad to get me a 'tatoe en a piece of bread. I thought I was eatin cake.

"I never didn' work in no field or nothin like dat no time. When I was a little small girl, I would stay dere home en play 'bout de yard en nurse my mammy's baby while she was workin in de field. Yes'um, old Massa would give her task to pick cotton en hoe cotton en pick peas or somethin another like dat 'bout all de time. Don' know whe' she work all day or no, but I know she would always let up at 12 o'clock en come to de house to get her somethin to eat. Can remember dat good as anything. Oh, she would have to cook herself when she come home bein' dere wasn' none of we chillun big enough to cook nothin. I recollects, I used to get chips en pile dem up for her 'cause she always been tell me, if de baby go to sleep, to get up some chips en put dem on de steps for her to hurry en start fire wid. She would cook us meat en bread like corn hoecake en fry meat de most of de time. Den another time, she would bake a big round loaf like dat en break it in two en give me half en my brother Charlie de other part. Would lay a piece of meat on de top of it. No'um, I reckon 'bout all de people used to cook in de chimney. I know my mammy used to cook in de chimney en I don' think she thought nothin 'bout no stove in dem days. Cose if she did, I know we chillun didn' get it.

"Yes, Lord, I been married 'bout 16 years fore my husband died. Yes'um, I had a tolerable good size weddin over dere to Mr. Elija Gregg's house. Been married in a white dress trimmed wid blue ribbon. You is hear talk of a cream of tartar dress, ain' you? Oh, my Lord of mercy, dere was a crowd of people dere dat night to get dey eye full en deyself full, too, I say. Yes'um, I had four waiters in my ceremony. En had cake en rice en 'tatoe custard en a yearlin pig wid a red apple stuck in he mouth, so dey tell me. Dat what was for de refreshments. De old man Charles Reynolds, he was de preacher dere dat night en, say, he eat so much pig till you could see pig in he face, so dey tell me. Cose I never had no mind to know nothin 'bout it. Oh, yes Lord, I got seven chillun dat come here fore my old man die, but dey all done gone en get married en left me by myself. Dat how-come I stays over here wid Miss Bertie 'cause she ain' have nobody to stay wid her neither en I tries to help her out somehow. Yes'um, me en Miss Bertie does rest right well together, I say.

"Oh, great jumpin mercy, de shake! I sho knows all 'bout dat 'cause I was stayin right up dere to old man Elija Gregg's place den. I tellin you, it was a time, honey. I was gwine down side de road to prayer meetin dat night wid my baby in my arms en dere come such a roarin' en a rockin' in de elements till I thought my baby had got out my arms en I was just a hollerin for somebody to come en help me get my baby back. Been so crazy dat I was lookin in all de ditches for my baby. My husband, he come a runnin to see what ailed me en say, 'Agnes, what de matter wid you?' I say, 'My baby lost. Do Lord, whe' my baby gone?' He say, 'Agnes, you must be ailin in de head. Dere de baby on your arm.' Yes'um, I was crazy 'cause I had my baby in my arms en didn' know it. Oh, de people done a piece of hollerin dat night. Everybody was a hollerin en a prayin. I hear talk three or four of dem got converted in de spirit dat night. I tellin you, it been a long time fore I got over dat thing, too, 'cause I was scared most to death.

"No'um, I never didn' believe in nothin like dat. Never didn' believe in no conjurin. Don' care what dey say 'bout it, I never didn' believe in it. Yes'um, I hear people talk 'bout somebody had hurt dem, but dey make a wrong mistake to say somebody do somethin to dem. Ain' nobody but de Lord do nothin, I say. I know dere ain' nobody never do nothin to me. Hear people say dey wear money round dey ankle to keep folks from hurtin dem, but ain' nobody never bother me, I tell dem. If dey live right, ain' nobody gwine trouble dem neither. No, Lord, ain' nobody never speak no harm word to me en I ain' got no mind to harness up myself.

"Well, it just seems like de world growin wilder for de young folks. Dey don' never think 'bout nothin 'cept gwine right head first all de time. I know when I been comin up, I never see no such livin like de people makin dese days. Dey just gwine head over heels to de worser. Don' never think near a day dey got to stop some of dese days.

"I tell de truth, it ain' make no difference which time I think de best time to live in. Everything went well en good wid me in de old days en everything still gwine dat way, Thank de Lord, too."

Fred James

*Interview with Fred James (81)* *Newberry, S.C. RFD* --_G.L. Summer, Newberry, S.C._

"Yes, I 'member slavery time and de war. I was about 7 or 8 years old. I belonged to Marse Tom Price. My father, John James, belonged to Madison Brooks and my mammy belonged to Tom Price. When dey married dey lived wid Madison Brooks awhile, but dey was wid Tom Price when I was a boy.

"Of cose I 'member de war. Us chaps, both niggers and white, was made to go up-stairs in de big house and look out de window to see de soldiers when dey come. We heard de Yankees marching befo' dey got dar, but dey come from de other side of de house, facing south towards Caldwells, and we didn't see dem marching in. Dey stopped at our house and looked around and asked if marster was at home. We told him dat he wasn't dar. We was eating apples, and dey asked us whar we got 'em. We told dem dat we got de apples on de place, and dey asked us for some. We give dem some apples; den dey left. Marse had carried his fine stock about a mile off in de woods so de soldiers couldn't find dem; but we didn't tell de soldiers.

"We lived in a little log cabin made wid mud between de logs, dat was de kind of houses Marse had for his slaves. We slept on wood beds wid ropes stretched tight across in place of slats. Dis held our straw mattress.

"My father's daddy come from Africa. His name was Emmanuel James. Atter freedom come he give me a little yearling. We wasn't allowed to have anything befo' freedom come; and we wasn't allowed to learn to read and write. Dey whipped us if dey caught us wid a book trying to read or write. Ma said dey cut off a hand if dey caught you.

"We raised hogs, sheep, goats, cows and plenty chickens; raised everything at home, and had a good garden with plenty vegetables. Dem cows and hogs and other cattle were branded and allowed to graze around in bottoms of de lowlands whar dar was no fence.

"My clothes was made from yarn spun by my mammy, and she made my clothes, too. Marse had my mammy to spin and weave for all de slaves on de place. But marse and mistress was good to us. He had a nigger overseer who sometimes brought a nigger to marse when he misbehaved; den marse would have de nigger overseer to whip him. He had 8 to 10 slaves all de time.

"Some slaves dat lived on places close to us would run off sometimes and hide in de woods, and live dar in a den which dey dug. At night they would go out and hunt food, like hogs; den kill 'em at night and dress 'em. Most of de day dey would stay in de den.

"I 'member when freedom come, old marse said, 'You is all free, but you can work on and make dis crop of corn and cotton; den I will divide up wid you when Christmas comes.' Dey all worked, and when Christmas come, marse told us we could get on and shuffle for ourselves, and he didn't give us anything. We had to steal corn out of de crib. We prized de ears out between de cracks and took dem home and parched dem. We would have to eat on dese for several days.

"We had to work, all day, sun up to dark, and never had Saturday afternoons off anytime. My mammy had to wash clothes on Saturday nights for us to wear on Sundays.

"We chaps played marbles most all de time. Marse used to try to scare us by telling us dar was spooks. Some of de old folks did believe in spooks, but I don't know much about dem. We never used much medicine den but quinine. Folks had lots of chills den, but dey never had any kind of strokes or things like dat as dey do dese days.

"We had to get a pass from marse if we went out. If de patrollers caught us widout a pass dey would whip us.