Chapter 10

"One day Marse George an' his Uncle, Mr. John Davenport--now thar was a rich man fer ye, why, he had two carri'ge drivers--dey rid over to Grand Gulf whar dey was a sellin' slabes offen de block an' Mr. John tol' Marse George to pick hisself out a pair of darkies to mate so's he could git hisself a start of darkies fer to chop his cotton an' like. So Marse George pick out my pappy fust. My pappy come frum North Ca'lina. Den he seen my mammy an' she was big an' strengthy an' he wanted her pow'ful bad. But lak I tol' you, he didn' have 'nough money to buy 'em both, so his Uncle John say he'd buy mammy an' den he would loan her over to Marse George fer pappy. An' de fust chile would be Mr. John's, an' de secon' Marse George's, an' likewise. Mammy was a Missourian name Marylin Napier Davenpo't. An' pappy was name Martin Newsome.

"Darkies libed in li'l old log houses wid dirt chimbleys. Dat is, de rest of de darkies did. Dey kep' me up in de Big House, bein' mammyless lak. Mos'ly I slep' in de trun'le bed wid Miss Mary Jane till I got so bad dey had to mek a pallet on de flo' fer me. Dey was Mr. Bryant, Mr. A.D., Miss Martha, Miss Ann, Miss Helen, Miss Mary Jane, an' Mr. George, all b'longin' to Marse George an' Miss Margurite.

"Mammy was a fiel' han'. She could plow an' wuk in de fiel's jes' lak a man, an' my pappy, he done de same. Mammy, she hated house wuk--lak me. I jes natu'lly loves to be out runnin' roun' in de fiel's an' 'bout. I neber lak'd to do wuk roun' de house none t'all.

"We wo' lowell clo'es an' brass toed brogans. Miss Margurite made our dresses an' lak, an' afte' Aunt Harriet died, she done de cookin' too fer all de slabes an' de fambly. She fix up dinner fer de fiel' han's, an' I taken it to 'em. Marse George had old powder horn he blowed mornin's far to git de darkies up 'fo day good, an' dey come in 'bout sundown.

"We growed corn an' taters an' cotton plentiful, an' we had gran' orchids[FN: orchids] an' penders[FN: peanuts]. Den, sheeps an' hogs an' cows an' lak.

"Miss Margurite had a piany, a 'cordian, a flutena, an' a fiddle. She could play a fiddle good as a man. Law, I heerd many as three fiddles goin' in dat house many a time, an' I kin jes see her li'l old fair han's now, playin' jes as fast as lightnin' a chune[FN: tune] 'bout

[HW: Song]

'My father he cried, my mother she cried, I wasn' cut out fer de army. O, Capt'in Gink, my hoss me think, But feed his hoss on co'n an' beans An s'port de gals by any means! 'Cause I'm a Capt'in in de army.'

"All us chullun begged ter play dat an' we all sing an' dance--_great goodness_!

"One song I 'member mammy singin':

[HW: Song]

'Let me nigh, by my cry, Give me Jesus. You may have all dis world, But give me Jesus.'

"Singin' an' shoutin', she had 'ligion all right. She b'longed to Old Farrett back in Missouri.

"We didn' git sick much, but mammy made yeller top tea[FN: dog fennel] fer chills an' fever an' give us. Den iffen it didn' do no good, Miss Margurite called fer Dr. Hunt lak she done when her own chullun got sick.

"None of de darkies on dat place could read an' write. Guess Miss Helen an' Miss Ann would'a learned me, but I was jes so bad an' didn' lak to set still no longer'n I had to.

"I seen plenty of darkies whupped. Marse George buckled my mammy down an' whupped her 'cause she run off. Once when Marse George seen pappy stealin' a bucket of 'lasses an' totin' it to a gal on 'nother place, he whupped him but didn' stake him down. Pappy tol' him to whup him but not to stake him--he'd stan' fer it wid'out de stakin'--so I 'member he looked jes lak he was jumpin' a rope an' hollering', '_Pray Marser_', ever time de strop hit 'im.

"I heered 'bout some people whut nailed de darkies years[FN: ears] to a tree an' beat' em but I neber seen none whupped dat way.

"I neber got no whuppins frum Marse George 'cause he didn' whup de chulluns none. Li'l darky chullun played 'long wid white chullun. Iffen de old house is still thar I 'spec you kin fin' mud cakes up under de house whut we made out'n eggs we stole frum de hen nests. Den we milked jes anybody's cows we could ketch, an' churned it. We's all time in ter some mischief.

"Thar was plenty dancin' 'mong'st darkies on Marse George's place an' on ones nearby. Dey danced reels an' lak in de moonlight:

[HW: Songs]

'Mamma's got de whoopin' cough, Daddy's got de measles, Dat's whar de money goes, Pop goes de weasel.'

'Buffalo gals, can't you come out tonight, Come out tonight, an' dance by de light of de moon?'

'Gennie, put de kettle on, Sallie, boil de water strong, Gennie, put de kittle on An' le's have tea!'

'Run tell Coleman, Run tell everbody Dat de niggers is arisin'!'

'Run nigger run, de patterrollers ketch you-- Run nigger run, fer hits almos' day, De nigger run; de nigger flew; de nigger los' His big old shoe.'

"When de War come, Marse George went to fight back in Virginny. Us all thought de Yankees was some kin' of debils an' we was skeered to death of 'em.

"One day Miss Mary Jane, Helen, an' me was playin' an' we seen mens all dressed in blue coats wid brass buttons on dey bosoms ridin' on big fine hosses, drive right up to our po'ch an' say to Aunt Dalia whar she was sweepin':

"'Good morning, Madam, no men's about?'

"When she tol' 'em wa'nt no mens 'bout, day ax fer de keys to de smokehouse an' went out an' hap'ed deyse'ves an' loaded dey wagons. Den dey went out in de pasture 'mongst de sheeps an' killed off some of dem. Nex' dey went in de buggy house an' all together shuck down de carri'ge so we neber could use hit no mo'. Yessum, dey done right smart of mischief 'roun' thar.

"Some of de darkies went off wid de Yankees. My brudder Howard did, an' we ain't heerd tell of him since. I'll tell you 'bout it. You see, Mr. Davenpo't owned him an' when he heard 'bout da Yankees comin' dis way, he sont his white driver an' Howard in de carri'ge wid all his valuables to de swamp to hide, an' while dey was thar de white driver, he went off to sleep an' Howard was prowlin' 'roun' an' we all jes reckin he went on off wid de Yankees.

[HW: Superstition]

"You mean hoo doo? Dat's whut ma pappy done to my mammy. You see, dey was allus fussin' 'bout fust one thing, den 'nother, an' mammy got mad 'caus'n pappy slipped her clo'es out'n her ches' an' taken over to de other gals fer to dance in, an' when he brung' em back mammy would see finger prints on' em whar he been turnin' 'em 'roun' an' she sho' be mad an' fight him. She could lick him too caus'n she was bigger. One day pappy come in an' say to mammy:

"'Does you want to be bigger an' stronger dan whut you already is?' An' mammy say she did. So nex' day he brung her a li'l bottle of somethin' blood red wid somethin' looked like a gourd seed in de middle of it, an' he tol' her to drink hit iffen she want to be real strong. Frum de fust drink she fell off. Place of walkin' off, she jes stumbled an' got wo'ser an' wo'ser till she plum los' her min'. Fer a long time, dey had to tie her to a tree. Den afte' de War, she lef Mr. Davenpo't's an' jes traveled 'bout over de country. I stayed on wid Miss Margurite he'pin' her jes lak I'd been doin'. One day mammy come afte' me an' I run an' hid under a pile of quilts an' laked to smothered to death waitin' fer her to go on off.

"Nex' time she come, she brung a written letter to Miss Margurite frum de Free Man's Board an' taken me wid her. We jes went frum place to place 'til I got mar'ied an' settled down fer myself. I had three chullun, but ain't none livin' now."

Mississippi Federal Writers Slave Autobiographies

[TOM WILSON near New Zion Church, Mississippi]

"My name is Tom Wilson an' I'se eighty fo' years old. My mammy was name Ca'line an' my pappy was Jeff Wilson. Us lived right out on de old Jim Wilson place, right by New Zion Chu'ch. I lives thar now--owns me a plot of groun' an' farms.

"Well, us b'longed to Marse Jim an' Miss Nancy Wilson. I was born right out thar, but my mammy was brung down frum Ten'see. She come by heir to Marse Jim but 'fo that her was sol' for ten hun'erd dollars. My mammy was a big sportly woman an' brung a lot er money an' my pappy, he brung nine hun'erd. Marse Jim bought him offen de block, but I don't know jes whar frum. I jes 'members 'bout hearin' him tell 'bout bein' sol'.

"Bofe of dem was fiel' han's. Law, mammy could plow jes lak a man all day long; den milk twen'y head er cows afte' she quit de fiel' at night.

"De Big House was made out'n logs an' reckin hit had 'bout seben er eight rooms in hit, an' de kitchen sot a piece frum de mainest house. Thar was one brick chimbly an' one dirt one to hit, an' a great big wide po'ch 'cross de front of de house. I 'member Mis Nancy an' white folks 'ud set out thar of an evenin' an' mek us li'l cullud chullun dance an' sing an' cut capers fer to 'muse 'em. Den dey had a trough, built 'bout lak a pig trough, an' dey would mek de cook bake a gre't big slab er co'n bread an' put hit in de trough an' po' milk or lasses over hit, an' tu'n us li'l cullud chullun loose on hit. An' I'se tell'n y' as much of hit went in our hair an' eyes an' years[FN: ears] as went in our moufs[FN: mouths].

"I reckin thar was' bout two er three hun'erd acres in Marse Jim's place. Us raised cotton, taters, an' hogs. No'm, slaves didn' have no plots er dey own. Marse Jim give us our rashins' every week. Well, mos' er de cullud people 'ud cook dey victuals over de fire place in dey own houses. Us sho' did have 'possum an' taters.

"My mammy wuked in de loom room at night by light of a pine knot. In de Big House dey had taller[FN: tallow] can'les 'cause I 'member my mammy moulded 'em. No'm, de spinnin' wheels was kep' in de kitchen of de Big House. Hit had a dirt flo'. Us jes wo' li'l old suits made out'n lowell cloth whut mammy wove on de loom. I doan 'member wearin' no shoes.

"I jes played roun' 'bout de place an' he'ped wid de cleanin' up an' dish washin'. Kinder house boy, I was.

[HW: Medicine]

"When us got sick, mammy made us pills out'n herbs. She taken May apple roots an' boiled hit down to a syrup; den she let dat, dry out an' rolled hit inter pills. Day sho' was fin' fo' mos' anything we might have.

"Chris'mus was a mighty glad time fo' us. Yessum, us got extra rashins' an' had time off ter play an' kick our heels. Gen'ly[FN: generally] had 'bout a week off. Tell you what Marse Jim 'ud do when Chris'mus come 'roun'. He'd sen' one of da cullud mans out to git a log an' say, 'Now long as dis log burn, y'all kin have off'n wuk'. Co'se us'd hunt de bigges' gum log an' den soak hit in de stream so hit wud burn on a long time. Dey'd put hit on back er de fire an' hit wud las' mos' a week.

"Couldn' none of us read or write, an' us wa'nt neber learned 'til afte' us was set free. Den some went to li'l schools fer da cullud people.

"I sho' has seen m' mammy an' lots mo' git whuppins. Marse Jim, he had a strop er leather stuck in de slit end of a staff, an' he sho' did whup 'em layed 'cross a barrel. Once' m' pappy run away an' Marse Jim got de blood houn's afte' him, an' catched him up 'fo he could git fur, an' dat day he lay him 'cross de barrel, an' whupped him frum sun up til sun down. When he quit off, m' pappy couldn' talk no more'n a whisper sca'cely.

"Pattyrollers, I heard of 'em allright 'cause dey sho' would git you iffen y' went abroad widout a pass frum Marse Jim.

"One day us li'l cullud chullun was frollicin' out in de front yard an' Mis' Nancy an' some mo' was settin' on de po'ch an' all of a sudden I see somebuddy comin' down de road an' I says 'Look, whut's dat?'

"An' white folks run to de woods an' hid out caze dey seen hit was Calv'ry 'bout a mile long comin' down de road. Sojer rid right up to me an' stuck his bay'net at me an' says, 'Boy, whar de tater house?' An' I sho' did show him whar 'twas. Dem sojers sho' was starved. Dey take thirty tater punks, fifteen er twenty chickens, and five hams. Den dey went in de smoke house an' grabbed off five er ten poun's er sausage, middlln's, and sides. Dey take 'nough grub to load three wagons an' take hit over to New Zion Church 'bout er mile frum us. An' right thar dey camped that night.

"That was afte' de Siege er Vicksburg. Marse Jim didn' keer, but he sent us ober nex' mo'nin' to git de leavin's, an' thar was a wagon load er jes de leavin's.

"I 'members when us was sot free allright. 'Twas in de middle of da winter y' know, an' Marse Jim was so mad 'bout hit he went off down to a li'l stream or water an' broke de ice an' jumped in, an' he died 'bout two weeks afte' of de pewmonia[FN: pneumonia].

"I was glad to git m' freedom 'cause I got out'n frum under dem whuppins.

"Afte' dat us bought lan' frum de Wilsons whut was lef' an' I been a fa'min' thar ever since."

Mississippi Federal Writers Slave Autobiographies

CLARA C. YOUNG Monroe County, Mississippi

Clara G. Young, ex-slave, Monroe County, is approximately 95 years old, about five feet two inches tall, and weighs 105 pounds. She is a frail, dark skinned Negro, with the typical broad nose and the large mouth of the southern Negro. Her physical condition is especially good for a woman of her age. She is very talkative at times, but her memory appears to come and go, so that she has to be prompted at intervals in her story-telling by her daughter or granddaughter, with whom she lives. Familiarly known as "Aunt Classie," she is very proud of her age and more especially of her long line of descendants.

"Law, Miss, I doan know when I was born, but I do know dat I'se sebenteen years old when I was fust sol'. Dey put me an' my brudder up on de auction block at de same time. He brung $1400 but I dis'members zactly what dey paid far me. Wa'nt dat much, tho', fer big strong mans brung mo' dan wimmens an' gals."

Long pauses accentuated the quavery voice of the old Negro, whose head resembled a nappy patch of cotton, and who was so enthusiastic over reminiscing about the days when she was young and carefree.

"I was born in Huntsville, Alabamy, an' my mammy an' pappy was name Silby an' Sharper Conley. Dey tuk de las' name frum de old marster dat owned 'em. I lived dar wid 'em 'til de chullun drew dey parts an' us was 'vided out. While I was wid old marster, he let Miss Rachel--dat was his wife--have me fer de house. She larned me how to cook an' wait on de table, an' I declar', she call me her ver' smartest gal! Sometimes, tho', I wouldn' come right quick lak when she ring de bell fer me, an' she'd start ringin' it harder an' harder. I knowed den she was mad. When I'd get dar, she'd fuss at me an' tu'n my dress up an' whup me--not hard 'cause she wa'nt so strong--_but I'd holler some_!

"Dey had a nigger woman to teach all de house darkies how to read an' write an' I larned how to sign my name an' got as fur as b-a-k-e-r in de Blue Back Speller.

"Marse Conley an' Miss Rachel had fo' chullun, Miss Mary, Miss Alice, Miss Willie, an' Marse Andrew, an' when de time come, dey give me to Marse Andrew. He car'ied me an' de rest out to Texas whar he thought he would go an' git rich. We neber stayed long, tho', fer lots of de niggers runned 'way to de Free State an' Marse Andrew didn' lak dat.

[HW: Pre-War Days]

"It was when he brought us back to Huntsville dat I was sol'. All de white folks was a gittin' scared dey was gwineter lose dey slaves an' dere was a pow'ful lot er nigger sellin' goin' on den. Marse Ewing bought me frum him an' car'ied me to his plantation near Aberdeen, Mississippi. Den I started to workin' in de fiel' wid de rest of de hands. De oberseer dat we had was right mean to us when we didn' work our rows as fas' as de others, an' sometime he whup us, wimmen an' all. When he did dat some of us most nigh allus tell de marster an' he would jump on de oberseer an' tell him to lay off de wimmen an' chullun. Dey was allus sort of thoughtful of us an' we loved old marster.

"I heerd tell one time, tho', of de hired man (he was a nigger) an' de oberseer whuppin' one of my cousins 'til she bled; she was jes' sebenteen years old an' was in de fambly way fer de fust time, an' couldn' work as hard as de rest. Nex' mawnin' afte' dat she died. De hired man tol' de rest if dey said anything 'bout it to de marster, he'd beat dem to death, too, so ever'body kep' quiet an' de marster neber knowed.

"We worked hard in de fiel' all day, but when dark come we would all go to de Quarters an' afte' supper we would set 'roun' an' sing an' talk. Mos' of de time we had good food to eat 'cause mos' of us had our gardens, an' de Quarters cook would fix what we wanted if we brung it to her. Durin' de last years 'fo de surrender, we didn' have much to eat tho'; an' made out de best we could.

[HW: Religion]

"De mos' fun we had was at our meetin's. We had dem mos' ever' Sunday an' dey lasted way into de night. De preacher I laked de bes' was name Mathew Ewing. He was a comely nigger, black as night, an' he sho' could read out of his han'. He neber larned no real readin' an' writin' but he sho' knowed his Bible an' would hol' his han' out an' mek lak he was readin' an' preach de purtiest preachin' you ever heered. De meetin's last frum early in de mawnin' 'til late at night. When dark come, de men folks would hang up a wash pot, bottom up'ards, in de little brush church-house us had, so's it would catch de noise an' de oberseer wouldn' hear us singin' an' shoutin'. Dey didn' min' us meetin' in de day time, but dey thought iffen we stayed up ha'f de night we wouldn' work so hard de nex' day--an' dat was de truf.

"You should'a seen some of de niggers get 'ligion. De best way was to carry 'em to de cemetery an' let 'em stand ober a grave. Dey would start singin' an' shoutin' 'bout sein' fire an' brimstone; den dey would sing some mo' an' look plum sanctified.

"When us had our big meetin's, dere would allus be some darkies frum de plantations aroun' to come. Dey would have to slip off 'cause dey marsters was afraid dey would git hitched up wid some other black boy er gal on de other plantation an' den dey would either have to buy er sell a nigger 'fo you could git any work out of him.

"We neber knowed much bout de War, 'cept dat we didn' have as much to eat er wear, an' de white men folks was all gone. Den, too, Old Miss cried a lot of de time.

[HW: Reconstruction]

"De Yankees come 'roun' afte' de War an' tol' us we's frea an' we shouted an' sang, an' had a big celebration fer a few days. Den we got to wonderin' 'bout what good it did us. It didn' feel no diffrunt; we all loved our marster an' missus an' stayed on wid 'em jes' lak nothin' had happened. De Yankees tried to git some of de men to vote, too, but not many did 'cause dey was scared of de Ku Kluxers. Dey would come at night all dressed up lak ghosts an' scare us all. We didn' lak de Yankees anyway. Dey wa'nt good to us; when dey lef' we would allus sing dat leetle song what go lak dis:

[HW: Song]

'Old Mister Yankee, think he is so grand, Wid his blue coat tail a draggin' on de ground!'

"I stayed on wid Old Marster afte' de surrender, wid de res', 'til I met Joshua. Joshua Young was his name an' he b'longed to de Youngs whut lived out at Waverly. I moved out dar wid him afte' we mar'ied. We didn' have no big weddin' 'cause dere wa'nt much money den. We had a preacher tho', an' den went along jes' lak we had allus been mar'ied.

"Josh, he's been daid fer a long time now but we had a good life out at Waverly an' many a night stood outside de parlor do' an' watch de white folks at dey big dances an' parties. De folks was pow'ful nice to us an' we raised a passel er chullun out dar. All of 'em 'ceptin' three be daid now. George is de oldes' of those lef'. He's a bricklayer, carpenter, preacher, an' mos anything else he 'cides to call hisse'f. He's got 19 or 20 chullun, I dis'members which. Edith ain't got so many. She live up North. I lives wid my other darter an' her gal. I named her afte' my sisters. Her name is Anna Luvenia Hulda Larissa Jane Bell Young McMillan. Dere may be more'n dat now, but anyways dere is five generations livin'.

"What I think 'bout slav'ry? Well, leetle Miss, I tell you, I wish it was back. Us was a lot better off in dem days dan we is now. If dem Yankees had lef us 'lone we'd been a lot happier. We wouldn' been on 'lief an' old age pension fer de las' three years. An' Janie May, here, I b'lieve, sure as goodness, would'a been de Missus' very smartes' gal, an' would'a stayed wid her in de Big House lak I did."

Note: This autobiography is exactly as related by the Negro to the field worker with exception of a few changes in spelling. Phraseology is the same.

B.Y.