Part 11

"In December 1855, de family Bible say, I was born on de McNeil Place in York County. De last person who have dat Bible was Captain Conductor True of de Southern Railroad trains. Had dis one name in dat Bible, just 'Bill' is set down on de page. I hear them say de Good Book am now in Tennessee, but I wouldn't swear to dat. I was born 'bout twelve miles from Chester Court House on a creek called Bullock or something lak dat.

"My pappy name Will; my mammy name Leah. I was put down in de Book as their child. When Miss Jane, daughter of old Marster McNeil, (I forgits his first name) marry, then my new marster was Marster Jim True. Miss Jane just up and marry Marster Jim and come wid him to Fairfield. Then old Marster McNeil give me, my mammy, and brother Eli, to Miss Jane.

"My pappy done passed out, ceased to live, befo' us come to Fairfield. Him b'long to de Rainey family of York. Had to git a pass to see his wife and chillun. Dat was one of de hard parts of slavery, I thinks. Does I 'members Conductor True's name? Sho, I does. It was Thurston True. When I git on de train him always slap me on de head and say: 'Well Bill, how your corporosity seem to sagasherate dis morning?' And I say: 'Very galopshous, I thanks you, Captain'. Then us both laugh, and he pass on down de coach and all de people on dat car 'steem me very highly. I feel a little bigger than all de other niggers, all dat day long, I sho does.

"Does you know de Warren Castles' Place? 'Bout two miles from dere is where us lived befo' freedom. Marster Jim True was killed in de war. Us carry on then and make corn for de 'federate army. Our house had a dirt floor and a stick and mud chimney. Us slept on a pallet on de floor. In de summer time I run 'round in my shirt tail.

"De overseer, Tom True, de daddy of Marster Jim was a rough and hard task marster. After freedom I went to de Rembert Place, Wateree Creek, then to de DesPortes' Place five miles from Winnsboro, then to de Jordan Place on de Gum Tree Road, then to de Buchanan Place, then I buy seventy acres from Mr. Jim Curlee and live there every since 1905. My wife was there wid me and my daughter and her four chillun, Willie, Anne, Andy and Henrietta Jackson.

"I got a heap of whippin's in slavery time from old Marster Tom True. I see lots of de Yankees and their doings in war time. They just ride high, burn and take off everything from us, lak they did everywhere else.

"I vote de 'publican ticket, as I try to show my 'preciation, and dat gits me in bad wid de Klu Klux. They scare me, but no touch me. De red shirts try to 'suade me to vote their way. Some of de best white folks was in dat movement, but this time I 'members old Tom True beating me often for little or nothing. I sticks out to de end wid de party dat freed me.

"I find out, and you'll find out, boss, dat only de Lord is pure in de beginning and to de end, in His plans. De works of man and parties lak democrat and 'publican have their day; if they reign long enough de people will mourn so de Bible say.

"My old overseer, Marster Tom was a school teacher. I feel sorry for de chillun he teached, 'cause him whip me just when him git out of sorts. Miss Jane couldn't stop him, she just cry.

"Yas sir, I have knowed good white men. Mr. Warren Castles was a good man, and Manigault here in town is fit to go to heaven, when he die. I sure dat he is, although he is a nigger.

"My house and land worth $590.00, but I been going back'ards every year for last eight years. Can't get labor, can't work myself. Wonder if you white folks will help me get a pension. I's not going to beg. Dats my last word."

Andy Marion

*Interview with Andy Marion, 92 years* --_W.W. Dixon, Winnsboro, S.C._

"Yes, sir, I was born befo' de war 'tween de white folks, on account of us niggers. They was powerful concerned 'bout it and we was not. My mammy always said she found me a babe in de chinkapin bushes, but you can leave dat out if you want to. They say I comed into de world in 1844. I sho' was a good plow-hand when de first gun was fired at some place down near Charleston; I think it was at Sumter. They say I was born where Marster Eugene Mobley lives now, but it b'longed to Marster William Brice, when I was born in 1844, bless God! My father named Aleck and my mother Mary. Us colored folks didn't git names 'til after de war. I took my name, when I went up to de 'lection box first time to vote for Gen. Grant for president. My father was from old Virginia, my mother from South Carolina. Our plantation had seventy-two slaves living about here and yon in log houses wid dirt floors. They bored auger holes in de sides of de room, stuck end of poles in dese holes. De pole reach' out into de room and rested on wooden blocks sort of hollowed out on top; then some slats of pine finish up de contraption bed. Quilts was spread on dis which was all de bed we had.

"I been married four times since de war and I'm here to tell you dat a nigger had a hell of a time gittin' a wife durin' slavery. If you didn't see one on de place to suit you and chances was you didn't suit them, why what could you do? Couldn't spring up, grab a mule and ride to de next plantation widout a written pass. S'pose you gits your marster's consent to go? Look here, de gal's marster got to consent, de gal got to consent, de gal's daddy got to consent, de gal's mammy got to consent. It was a hell of a way!

"I helped my marster 'mong de bullets out along de Mississippi River, but I's glad we didn't whip them 'cause I's had four wives and dere is de las' one settin' right over dere, a fixin' you some strawberries and a shakin' her belly at me laughin' lak Sarah in de Bible and thinkin' of namin' de child of her old age, 'Isaac'.

"What kind of work I do in slavery? I was de carriage driver. Us had a fine carriage and two high-steppin' horses, Frank and Charlie. I used to hear lots of things from behin' me, while drivin' de folks and saying nothin'. Money, did you say? We had no use for money. Kind words from de white folks was money 'nough for me. We just worked hard, eat more and slep' well. We got meat, hominy, and corn meal on Mondays and wheat bread, lard and 'lasses on Saturdays. No time for fishin' or huntin'. Married slaves was encouraged to have their own gardens. Our clothes was of wool in de winter from our own sheep, and cotton in de summer from our own fields. Had many spinnin' wheels and cards. Miss Mary, de mistress, saw to dis part.

"Our white folks was Psalm-singin', old style Presbyterians. You daresn't whistle a hymn on Sunday which they called Sabbath. Just as soon as I got free, I jined de Baptist church, hard shell. Brother Wright is my preacher at Blackstock now. My marster, William Brice, his wife, Miss Mary, his son, Christie, and his daughters, Miss Lizzie, Miss Kitty and Miss Mary, was de ones I drove de carriage to Hopewell church on Sunday for. Dat church is flourishin' now. De pastor of dat church, Rev. John White, befo' he died I waited on him sixteen years, and in his will, he give me dis house and forty acres around it for my life. Dat's what I calls religion. My mistress was a angel, good, and big hearted. I lay my head in her lap many a time. Marster had a overseer twice. They was poor white trash, not as good as de niggers. Miss Mary run them both off and told marster what she couldn't see to when he was away, she'd pick out one of de slaves to see after. All de overseer done was to wake us up, see to feeding stock and act biggity. Us slaves worked from sun up to sun down.

"Sometime befo' de war, my marster sold out and bought a big place in Mississippi. On de way dere, de slaves (grown) was chained together. Yes sir, de chain was 'round de necks. We went by wagons and steamboats sometimes. We stayed in Mississippi 'til durin' de war we refugeed back to South Carolina. Dat's when de Yankees got possession of de river. We settled near New Hope church. It was in dis church dat I saw sprinkling wid a kind a brush when baptizin' de chillun. Over at Hopewell, you had to have a brass trinket (token) to show befo' you could take Communion of de Saints. We was always compelled to go to church. Boss like for de slaves to sing while workin'. We had a jack-leg slave preacher who'd hist de tunes. Some was spirituals; my wife and me will sing you one now, 'Got to Fight de Devil when You Come Up out de Water'." (This was well rendered by the old man and his wife). "Nothing stopped for slave funerals. De truth is, I can't 'member any dyin' on our places. None of our slaves ever run away.

"A pass was lak dis, on it was yo' name, what house you goin' to and de hour expected back. If you was cotched any other house, pataroller whip you sho'. Always give us Chris'mus Day. Dere was a number of dances dis time of de year. Got passes to different plantations. Dere would be corn shuckin' different places. Not much games or playin' in our set. Wife, let's sing another spiritual. Come on Janie, let's sing 'You Got to Lay Your Burden 'pon de Lord'.

"Sickness of slaves was quickly 'tended to by de doctor. 'Member gallopin' for old Doctor Douglas many a time.

"I went to de war from Mississippi as body guard for my marstar. I was close to de fightin' and see it. If it was hell then, it must be tarnation now wid all dese air-planes flyin' roun' droppin' booms on old people lak Janie and me, over dere fixin' them strawberries. De good Lord, save us from a war over Blackstock and my garden out dere!

"I was free three years befo' I knowed it. Worked along just de same. One day we was in de field on Mr. Chris Brice's place. Men come along on big, black horse, tail platted and tied wid a red ribbon. Stopped, waved his hands and shouted 'You is free, all of you. Go anywhere you wants to'. Us quit right then and acted de fool. We ought to have gone to de white folks 'bout it. What did de Yankees do when they come? They tied me up by my two thumbs, try to make me tell where I hided de money and gold watch and silver, but I swore I didn't know. Did I hide it? Yes, so good it was two years befo' I could find it again. I put everything in a keg, went into de woods, spaded the dirt by a pine stump, put de keg in, covered it up wid leaves and left it. Sometime after, we looked for it, but couldn't find it. Two years later, I had a mule and cart in de woods. De mule's foot sunk down into de old stump hole and dere was de keg, de money, de silver and de watch. Marster was mighty glad dat I was a faithful servant, and not a liar and a thief lak he thought I was. My marstar was not a Ku Klux. They killed some obstreppary (obstreperous) niggers in them times.

"I first married Sara Halsey in 1875, she had three chillun. She died. Ten months after, I took Harriett Daniels; she had three chillun, then she died. Eight months after, I married Millie Gladden, no chillun. She lived seventeen years, died, and ten years ago I fooled dat good-lookin' Jane a-settin' over dere. She was a widow then, she was de widow Arthur. She was a Caldwell, when she was born. We have no chillun but she is still lookin' for a blessin'." (Here the nonagenarian broke forth in a quiet chuckle).

"There wasn't as much sin in slavery time, not as much sufferin', not as much sickness and eye-sore poverty. Dere was no peniten'try and chain gangs 'cause dere was no need for them. Cuttin' out de brutishness on some places, it was a good thing for de race."

Milton Marshall

*Interview with Milton Marshall, (82)* *Newberry, S.C. RFD* --_G.L. Summer, Newberry, S.C._

"I live in Newberry County, a few miles from town on Mr. Alan Johnstone's place. I rent and make a fair living. I have ten children now living and two dead. Dey is all on a farm. I was born in Union County, jes' across de Newberry line, near de Goshen Hill section. I was young when we moved to Newberry and I have lived dar nearly all my life. My father, Ned Worthy, was a slave of Frank Bynum's mother. My mother was Maria Worthy who was a slave of Mr. Burton Maybin. She cooked for a long time for de Maybin family.

"I was small in slavery time, and played wid de white chaps. We used to go wid Mr. Burt Maybin to see dem muster at de old Goshen Hill muster ground.

"Marse Burt Maybin owned 88 slaves, and I was one, and is de only one now living. We had no money in slavery time, jes' got food and clothes for our work; but my marster was a good feeder, always had enough to eat. Some of de marsters didn't give niggers much to eat, and dey had to slip off and steal. We had plenty of what was de rule for eating in dem days. We had home-made molasses, peas, cornbread and home raised meat sometimes. We killed rabbits and 'possums to eat, and sometimes went fishing and hunting. Marse wouldn't allow fishing and hunting on Sundays, but de chaps would slip off on Sundays sometimes and catch lots of fish.

"Our clothes was made at home, spun and wove by de women folks and made by dem. Copper straw and white cloth was used. Our shoes was made by a shoe-maker in de neighborhood who was named Liles. Dey was made wid wooden soles or bottoms. Dey tanned de leather or had it tanned in de neighborhood. It was tacked around de soles. It was raw-hide leather, and de shoes had to be soaked in warm water and greased wid tallow or meat skin so de shoes would slip on de feet.

"I married Missouri Rice at her own house. We had a big wedding and she wore a white dress wid two frills on it. I wore a dove-colored suit and a high brim hat wid a small crown. I bought de hat for $7.00 jes' to marry in, but used it for Sundays.

"We had good white neighbors in slavery time. My marster and mistress was all right. All of us had to go to work at daylight and work till dark. Dey whipped us a little and dey was strict about some things.

"Us chaps did not learn to read and write, dat is why I can't read and write today. Marse wouldn't allow us to learn. Once he saw me and some other chaps, white chaps, under a tree playing wid letter blocks. Dey had de ABC's on dem. Marse got awful mad and got off his horse and whipped me good.

"De niggers didn't have a church on de plantation but was made to go to de white folks church and set in back of de church. Dey had to git a pass to go to church same as any other place, or de patrollers would catch 'em and beat 'em.

"Atter de war was over de niggers built brush arbors for to hold meetings in. I sho' remember de old brush arbor and de glorious times den, and how de niggers used to sing and pray and shout. I am a Baptist and we baptised in de creek atter we dammed it up to hold water deep enough. Sometimes we used a waterhole in de woods. I remember one old Baptist song, it went:

Down to de water I be baptised, for my Savior die; Down to de water, de River of Jordan, Where my Savior baptised.

"Some of de slaves was whipped while dey was tied to a stock. My marster was all right, but awful strict about two things, stealing and telling a lie. He sho' whipped dem if dey was caught in dem things. Some marsters didn't feed de slaves much, but my marster always had enough. Every Sunday he would give each nigger a quart of flour extra for breakfast.

"We had to work all day Saturdays, but Marse wouldn't let anybody work on Sunday. Sometimes he would give de women part of Saturday afternoons so dey could wash. He wouldn't allow fishing and hunting on Sundays either, unless it looked like rain and de fodder in de field had to be brought in. He always give us Christmas Day off, and we had lots of good eats den.

"I remember de old corn-shuckings, cotton-pickings and log-rollings. He would ask all de neighbors' hands in and dey would come by crowds. I can remember dem good. I remember de grain was put in drains and de horses was made to tramp on it to git de seed out. Den it was put in a house and poured in a big wooden fan machine which fanned out de chaff. De machine was turned by two men. Dey made molasses by taking de cane and squeezing out de juice in a big wooden machine. De machines now is different. Dey is made of cast.

"A stage dat was drawn by two horses went past our place. It carried mail and people. When Marse wanted to send word to any people in de neighborhood he sent it by somebody on a horse.

"Many of de slaves, and some old white people, too, thought dar was witches in dem days. Dey believed a witch could ride you and stop blood circulation.

"Dar was many dogs on de farms, mostly hounds and bird dogs.

"My grandfather was called 'Jack', and he was a nigger-driver. Dat was a nigger dat had to oversee de slaves when de marster was away from home. He would call de cows like dis, 'Su--wee, Su-wee' or 'Sook, Sook'. He called his dogs by whistling. He had several dogs. When grandpa died and was buried, his dogs would git out and bark and trail jes' like trailing a rabbit, and de trail always led to de graveyard. Dar dey would stand by his grave and howl for a long time, wid deir heads up in de air.

"De old folks made medicines from root herbs and tree barks. Herb tea was made to keep away fevers. Marse always called his big chaps up to de house in de mornings and made dem drink chinaberry tea to keep worms from gitting in dem.

"When freedom come, de slaves was notified dat a white man by de name Ban White would come to de plantation and make a speech to dem. He said, 'Now dat you is free, you will be wid your marster, and he is willing to give you 1/3 of what you make. You is free, and dar will be no more whippings.' Den Marse said, while he was crying, 'You stay on wid me and I'll give you food and clothes and 1/3 of what you make.

"Atter de war, de Ku Klux did bad in our neighborhood. Dey killed five or six niggers. I guess it was 'cause dey was Republicans and had trouble at voting times.

"I never did think slavery was right. I was jes' a chap den and never thought much about it till long since it was over. De carpetbaggers dat come to our place tried to make me believe dat de white man was our enemy, but I found out better. I am a Democrat and always was one. I was 40 years old when I repented of my sins and jined de church. I wanted to jine and be baptized and be saved."

Charlie Meadow

*Interview with Charlie Meadow (83)* *Rt. 2, Union, S.C.* --_Caldwell Sims, Union, S.C._

"It bees so hot today dat I jes' setting here on de bank steps a-waiting fer Aaron to come. Aaron work out on de road yonder in front of Dr. S'ratt's house. De heat, it still come up out'n dis granite rock like dar was a fire under it somewhars. It feel good to me kaise my blood thin and I has on de thinnest clothes dat I's got, today. Sho' did git dis hot in slavery, but us never had to tramp 'round on no pavement and rock steps like dese. Us tromped on de ground and it take up a lot of heat.

"In dem days, Union had trees along dis Main street like dem dat grows on de forest now, (Forest Creek). Mister, dey never called dis street Main when I was little, dey called it Virgin. It was real narrow and de trees recht plumb over de street in de middle 'till de limbs touched over your head. Here whar we's setting was de opera house. Right dar whar I's a pinting my finger was a stone hitching post, and along dis side de street was whar de surreys driv up fer de folks to git out and go in de do' to de Opera.

"I don't want to see no picture shows; ain't never seed none of dem things afo' dey got to talking. It's de devil hisself and dat's all it is. Now dey says dat dey talks in de pictures. Well, dem dat wants to can go and pay dere hard earned money to see sech as dat, but Charlie ain't gwine narry a step. No, if you is got any money to give me, I take it; but I ain't gwine to no picture whar de devil hisself bees in de dark. Dat's how come dey has it dark, and dat's what I 'lows to my grandchilluns but dey is ig'nant and laughs at me. It ain't no good to all sech as dat anyway. I likes to go to picnics and barbecues fer my enjoyment. Befo' my legs give out, I cotch fish and killed birds and went to log rollings and corn-shuckings. Dem things give you something to recall. Dese chilluns comes from de picture show and den dey does not have nothing to recall, kaise dey has to go agin de very next Sad'day. Tain't no merits to no sech as dey does.

"Slavery, us wore thin home-made clothes and dey sho' was better dan what I has now, kaise us made dem on de home looms and spinning wheel, and dey was good. Cloth ain't no count, kaise it ain't made good in no mills like dat what us made at home in de time of slavery. 'Course I was too little to make dem, myself, but it was done at home 'till atter I got big enough to card and spin. Ain't never seed no garments as strong as dem we wore back dar. Every thing was made out of plaited cotton and it lasted fer years and years. Winter time, we wore all wool clothes, and when you furs' changed in de fall, how dey did scratch! Make a feller feel like he had de itch. Marster had enough sheep to give his folks wool, and den some fer all de darkies. I's 'bout ten years old when I could card and spin good, and dat was atter de war.

"I live down dar on de Forest (creek) in 'Patterac'. My house ain't fer from McBeth School. De mail box in Mr. Charlie Ray's yard, 'bout fo' miles from Patterac. I walks fer dat mail, dat ain't fer. Not long ago I walked to Union and dat twelve miles. At dat you see I doesn't consider fo' miles fer.

"And Marse Johnny Meadow was my Marse when I was five years old. From den on, I 'members fer myself and I does not have to take what old folks say, but as you knows, from dar back it is as I is heard it.

"Yankee Carpetbagger or something come 'round and 'lowed to our overseers dat us have to come to Union Courthouse on a certain day. Us went in all de wagons. From de winding stairs, a man say, 'you is free; you is free; you is free as your marsters is.' Grandma Julie grab me and say, 'Boy, you is free; you is free; clap your hands.' Dat never meant much to me and atter us got in de wagon to go home, grandma 'low dat she sorry she so free and footloose. Next day us went to work as usual. Some strange folks and trashy niggers and po' white folks dat ain't never had nothing, would come to see us and tell us to stop work, but dat never meant nothing to us. Us all stayed on and gathered de crops.

"Next year maw and her maw went to de Mabry Thomas plantation in Santuc to work fer a fourth. My pa stayed at de Meadow plantation. I went wid my maw, but I also stayed wid my pa and his ma some. Atter dat, when ma's maw died she went back to pa and dey worked fer a fourth; and de older boys hired to de big house fer wages. I come up to manhood and I been down dar on de Patterac ever since. I live near Charlie Giles, and dey done tuck his picture kaise he so old and wise.

"Paw name in full, Griffin George Meadow, and ma's is Alice Brice Meadow. She brought from de state of Delaware, and pa was brought from de state of Virginny. I's heard both say dat dere parents was brung all de way from Africa. Mr. Bonny Trippling fetched both my ma and pa to South Carolina atter dey was married. I 'member my grand-daddy, my ma's daddy. He was furs' George Brice; then Marse Meadow bought him and he was George Meadow.