Chapter 8

"I was 31 years old when I was set free. My Marster didn' tell us' bout bein' free. De way I foun' it out, he started to whup me once an' de young Marster up an' says, 'You aint got no right to whup him now, he's free.' Den Marster turnt me loose.

"It was dem Carpetbaggers dat 'stroyed de country. Dey went an' turned us loose, jus' lak a passel o' cattle, an' didn' show us nothin' or giv' us nothin'. Dey was acres an' acres o' lan' not in use, an' lots o' timber in dis country. Dey should-a give each one o' us a little farm an' let us git out timber an' build houses. Dey ought to put a white Marster over us, to show us an' make us work, only let us be free 'stead o' slaves. I think dat would-a been better 'n turnin' us loose lak dey done.

"I lef' my Marster an' went over to de Jordon River, an' dere I stayed an' worked. I saved my money an' dat giv' me a start. I never touched it' til de year was winded up. To tell da truf, de fac's o' de matter is, it was my Marstars kinfolks I was workin' for.

"I bought me a schooner wid dat money an' carried charcoal to N'awlins. I done dis for 'bout two years an' den I los' my schooner in a storm off o' Bay St. Louis.

"After I los' my schooner, I come here an' got married. Dis was in 1875 an' I was 43 years old. Dat was my firs' time to marry. I'se got dat same wife today. She was born a slave, too. I didn' have no chillun, but my wife did. She had one gal-chil'. She lives at Westonia an' is de mammy o' ten chillun. She done better'n us done. I'se got a lot o' gran'-chillun. What does you call de nex' den? Lemme see, great gran'-chillun, dat's it.

"I never did b'lieve in no ghos' an' hoodoos an' charms.

"I never did look for to git nothin' after I was free. I had dat in my head to git me 80 acres o' lan' an' homestead it. As for de gov'ment making me a present o' anything, I never thought 'bout it. But jus' now I needs it.

"I did git me dis little farm, 40 acres, but I bought it an' paid for it myse'f. I got de money by workin' for it. When I come to dis country I dug wells an' built chimneys on' houses. (Once I dug a well 27 feet an' come to a coal bed. I went through de coal an' foun' water. Dat was on de Jordon River.) Dat clay chimney an' dis here house has been built 52 years. I's still livin' in' em. Dey's mine. One acre, I giv' to de Lawd for a graveyard an' a churchhouse. I wants to be buried dere myse'f.

"A white lady paid my taxes dis year. I raises a garden an' gits de Old Age 'Sistance. It aint 'nough to buy grub an' clo'es for me an' de old woman an' pay taxes, so us jus' has to git 'long de bes' us can wid de white folks he'p.

"It aint none o' my business' bout whether de Niggers is better off free dan slaves. I dont know 'cept 'bout me, I was better off den. I did earn money after I was free, but after all, you know _money is de root o' all evil_. Dat what de Good Book say. When I was a slave I only had to obey my Marster an' he furnish me ever'thing. Once in a while he would whup me, but what was dat? You can't raise nary chile, white or black, widout chastisin'. De law didn' low dem to dominize over us, an' dey didn' try.

"I's gittin' mighty old now, but I used to be pretty spry. I used to go 60 miles out on de Gulf o' Mexico, as 'terpreter on dem big ships dat come from France. Dat was 'fore I done forgot my French talk what I was raised to speak.

"De white folks is mighty good to me. De riches' man in Picayune, he recognizes me an' gives me two bits or fo' bits. I sho' has plenty o' good frien's. If I gits out o' grub, I catches me a ride to town, an' I comes back wid de grub.

"De good Lawd, he don't forgit me."

Mississippi Federal Writers Slave Autobiographies

[REV. JAMES SINGLETON Simpson, Mississippi]

"My name's James Singleton. I'se a Baptist preacher. I was born in 1856, but I doan know zactly what date. My mammy was Harr'et Thompson. Her marster was Marse Daniel Thompson over in Simpson County on Strong River at a place called Westville. My pappy, he come from South Ca'lina--Charleston--an' was give to do old folks' darter. His name was John Black an' he was owned by Mr. Frank Smith over in Simpson. He was brought down frum South Ca'lina in a wagon 'long wid lots mo'.

"Me, I was sol' to Marse Harrison Hogg over in Simpson when I was 'bout six years old, and Marse Hogg, he turn right 'roun', and sol' me an' sister Harr'et an' brother John nex' day for fo' thousan'. Two thousan' fo' John, 'cause he's older an' bigger, an' a thousan' fo' Harr'et an' me. Miss Annie an' Marse Elbert Bell bought us.

"Marse Elbert had three mo' sides us--makin' six. Us slep' on pallets on de flo', an' all lived in one long room made out of logs, an' had a dirt flo' an' dirt chimbly. There was a big old iron pot hangin' over de hearth, an' us had 'possum, greens, taters, and de lak cooked in it. Had coon sometimes, too.

"Marse Elbert, he lived in jes a plain wood house made Califo'nia style, wid a front room an' a shed room where de boys slep'. Dey had two boys, Jettie an' William.

"I reckin dere was 'bout a hun'erd an' sixty acres planted in taters an' corn, an' dey made whiskey too. Yessum, dey had a 'stillery[FN: distillery] hid down in de woods where dey made it.

"My mammy an' pappy was fiel' han's, an' I was mighty little to do so much. I jes minded de cow pen, made fires in de Big House, an' swep' de house. When I made de fires, iffen dere wa'nt any live coale lef', we had to use a flint rock to git it sta'ted.

"Dere was a bell ringin' every mornin' 'bout fo' 'clock, fer to call de slaves tar git up an' go to de fiel's. Day wuked 'til sundown. Dey was fed in de white folks' kitchen, and Cook cooked fer us jes lak she done fer de whites. De kitchen was built off a piece frum de hous', y'know.

"Marse never did whup any of us li'l chullun. Miss Annie, she tried once to whup me 'cause I chunked rocks at her li'l chickens, but mighty little whuppin' she done. Dere wa'nt no overseer.

"Chris'mas time, we had two or three days to play, an' had extry food.

"I seen 'pattyrollers' ridin' 'bout to keep de darkies from runnin' 'roun' widout passes. I never seen 'em whup none but dey tol' us we'd git twen'y-nine licks iffen we got caught by 'em. I seen darkies git whuppin's on other plantations--whup 'em half a day sometimes, gen'ly when dey tried to run away.

"We didn' have no dancin' dat I 'member, but had plen'y log rollin's. Had fiddlin', an' all would jine in singin' songs, lak, "Run nigger run, pattyrollers ketch you, run nigger run, it's breakin' days." I still fiddle dat chune[FN: tune]. Well, you see, dey jes rolled up all de old dead logs an' trees in a big pile, and burned it at night.

"I seen de Yankee sojers when dey passed our house but dey didn' bother us none. None didn' even stop in. Dey was wearin' blue jackets an' had gold buttons on caps an' jackets. But when de Confed'rate sojers come along, dey stopped an' killed a fat cow er two, an' taken de fat hoss an' lef' a lean one, an' taken ever'thing else dey seen dey wanted.

"No'm, didn' none of de slaves run off wid dem dat I knows of, an' de Yankees didn' try to bother us none. Well, afte' de War, Marse Elbert tol' us dat we was free now, an' pappy come an' got us an' taken us to live wid de cook on Mr. Elisha Bishop's place, an' he paid Mr. Barren Bishop to teach us. He taught us out of Webster's Blue Back Spellin' Book.

"My pappy, he had a stolen ejucation--'at was cause his mistress back in South Ca'Line hoped him to learn to read an' write 'fo he lef' there. You see, in dem days, it was ag'inst de law fer slaves to read.

"I was glad to be free 'cause I don't b'lieve sellin' an' whuppin' peoples is right. I certainly does think religion is a good thing, 'cause I'se a Baptist preacher right now, and I live 'bout six miles from Crystal Springs. I farm too."

Berry Smith, Ex-slave, Scott County FEC W.B. Allison Rewrite, Pauline Loveless Edited, Clara E. Stokes

BERRY SMITH Forest, Mississippi

"Uncle Berry" Smith is five feet two or three inches tall. He is scrupulously neat. He is very independent for his age, which is calculated at one hundred and sixteen years. He believes the figure to be correct. His mind is amazingly clear.

"I was born an' bred in Sumpter County, Alabama, in de prairie lan', six miles from Gainesville. Dat's where I hauled cotton. It was close to Livingston, Alabama, where we lived.

"I was twelve years old when de stars fell. Dey fell late in de night an' dey lighted up de whole earth. All de chaps was a-runnin' 'roun' grabbin' for 'em, but none of us ever kotched[FN: caught] one. It's a wonder some of' em didn' hit us, but dey didn'. Dey never hit de groun' atall.

"When dey runned de Injuns out de country, me an' another chap kotched one o' dem Injun's ponies an hung him up[FN: tied him up] in de grape vines. He said it was his pony an' I said it was mine.

"Marse Bob's boy tol' us his daddy was gwine a-whup us for stealin' dat pony, so we hid out in de cane for two nights. Marse Bob an' his brother whupped us' til we didn' want to see no more Injuns or dey ponies, neither.

"I was born a slave to Old Marse Jim Harper an' I fell to Marse Bob. Marse Jim bought my pa an' ma from a man by de name o' Smith, an' Pa kep' de name. Dat's how come I is Berry Smith.

"Dey didn' have no schools for us an' didn' teach us nothin' but work. De bull-whip an' de paddle was all de teachin' we got. De white preachers used to preach to de Niggers sometimes in de white folks' church, but I didn' go much.

"We had fun in dem days in spite o' ever'thing. De pranks we used to play on dem paterollers! Sometimes we tied ropes 'crost de bridge an' de paterollers'd hit it an' go in de creek. Maybe we'd be fiddlin' an' dancin' on de bridge (dat was de grown folks, but de chaps 'ud come, too) an' dey'd say, 'Here come de paterollers!' Den we'd put out. If we could git to de marster's house, we was all right. Marse Bob wouldn' let no pateroller come on his place. Marse Alf wouldn', neither. Dey said it was all right if we could git home widout bein' kotched, but we have to take dat chance.

"At de Big House dey had spinnin' wheels an' a loom. Dey made all de clo'es[FN: clothes] on de place. Homespun was what dey called de goods. My ma used to spin an' weave in de loom room at de Big House.

"Dey was two plantations in de marster's lan' an' dey worked a heap o' Niggers. I was a house boy an' didn' go to de fiel' much.

"We had overseers on de place, but dey was jus' hired men. Dey was po' white folks an' only got paid 'bout three or fo' hund'ed dollars a year.

"When we lef' Alabama we come to Mississippi. We went to de Denham place near Garlandsville. We brought eighteen Niggers. We walked a hund'ed miles an' it took five days an' nights. De women an' little chaps rid[FN: rode] on de wagons (dey had five mules to de wagon) an' de men an' de big chaps walked. My pa an' ma come along.

"We stayed on de Denham place 'bout three years. Den we moved to Homewood an' stayed five years. I hung de boards for Marse Bob's house in Homewood.

"Den we come to Forest. Dey brought all de fam'ly over here--all my brothers an' sisters. Dey was five of' em--Wash an' East is de two I 'members. All o' us b'longed to de Harper fam'ly. Marse Bob owned us. My ma an' pa both died here in Forest.

"I he'ped to build dis house for Marse Bob. I cleaned de lan' an' lef de trees where he tol' me. He lived in a little old shack whilst we built de Big House.

"Mr. M.D. Graham put up de firs' store here an' de secon' was put up by my marster.

"I worked in de fiel' some, but mos'ly I was a house servant. I used to go all over de country a-huntin' eggs an' chickens for de fam'ly on' count dey was so much comp'ny at de house.

"A heap o' white folks was good to dey Niggers, jus' as good as dey could be, but a heap of' em was mean, too. My mistis was good to us an' so was Marse Jim Harper. He wouldn' let de boys 'buse us while he lived, but when he died dey was wild an' cruel. Dey was hard taskmasters. We was fed good three times a day, but we was whupped too much. Dat got me. I couldn' stan' it. De old marster give us good dinners at Chris'mus, but de young ones stopped all dat.

"De firs' train I ever seen was in Brandon. I went dere to carry some horses for my marster. It sho' was a fine lookin' engine. I was lookin' at it out of a upstairs window an' when it whistled I'd a-jumped out dat window if Captain Harper hadn' a-grabbed me.

"I didn' see no fightin' in de war. When Gen'l Sherman come th'ough here, he come by Hillsboro. Marse Bob didn' go to de war. He 'listed[FN: enlisted], but he come right back an' went to gittin' out cross ties for de railroad. He warnt no sojer. Colonel Harper, dat was Marse Alf, _he_ was de sojer. He warnt scared o' nothin' or nobody.

"De Yankees ask me to go to de war, but I tol' 'em, 'I aint no rabbit to live in de woods. My marster gives me three good meals a day an' a good house an' I aint a-goin'.' Marse Bob used to feed us fine an' he was good to us. He wouldn' let no overseer touch his Niggers, but he whupped us, hisse'f.

"Den de Yankees tol' me I was free, same as dey was. I come an' tol' Marse Bob I was a-goin'. He say, 'If you don't go to work, Nigger, you gwine a-git whupped.' So I run away an' hid out in de woods. De nex' day I went to Meridian. I cooked for de sojers two months, den I come back to Forest an' worked spikin' ties for de railroad.

"I hear'd a heap of talk 'bout Jeff Davis an' Abe Lincoln, but didn' know nothin' 'bout 'em. We hear'd 'bout de Yankees fightin' to free us, but we didn' b'lieve it 'til we hear'd 'bout de fightin' at Vicksburg.

"I voted de 'publican ticket after de surrender, but I didn' bother wid no politics. I didn' want none of 'em.

"De Kloo Kluxers[FN: Ku Klux's] was bad up above here, but I never seen any. I hear'd tell of 'em whuppin' folks, but I don't know nothin' 'bout it, much.

"Mos' all de Niggers dat had good owners stayed wid 'em, but de others lef'. Some of 'em come back an' some didn'.

"I hear'd a heap o' talk 'bout ever' Nigger gittin forty acres an' a mule. Dey had us fooled up 'bout it, but I never seen nobody git nothin'.

"I hope dey won't be no more war in my time. Dat one was turrible. Dey can all go dat wants to, but I aint a-goin'.

"I seen Gen'l Grant at Vicksburg after de war. (He was a little short man.) All de Niggers went dere for somethin'--me 'mongst 'em. I don't know what we went for.

"I took to steamboatin' at Vicksburg 'cause I could cut[FN: place for storage or shipment] cotton so good. (I could cut cotton now wid a cotton hook if I warnt so old.)

"I steamboated twixt New Orleans an' St. Louis on de 'Commonwealth,' a freight packet, way up yonder in St. Louis. I don't know what country dat was in. But de rousters had a big fight one night in New Orleans, shootin' an' cuttin', so I lef'. When I got back to Vicksburg, I quit.

"I picked cotton in de Delta awhile, but de folks, white an' black, is too hard. Dey don't care 'bout nothin! I was in Greenville when de water come. I hear'd a noise like de wind an' I asked dem Niggers, 'Is dat a storm?' Dey said, 'No, dat's de river comin' th'ough an' you better come back 'fore de water ketch[FN: catch] you.' I say, 'If it ketch me it gwine a-ketch me on my way home.' I aint been back since.

"Den I come back here an' went to farmin' an' I been here ever since. I bought forty-seven acres an' a nice little house. De house burnt down, but de white folks built me a better one. Dey's good an' kin' to me. Dey say I's a good man.

"My wife was six year old at de surrender. She b'longed to Marse Alf, but we was free when we married. We had sixteen chillun. Mos' of 'em lives 'roun 'here. Some in Newton, some in Scott, an' some in Texas. My wife died two years ago las' March.

"Marse Bob died right here in dis here house. He died a po' man. If my old mistis had a-been here she wouldn' a-let' em treat him like dey done. If I'd a-been here I wouldn' a-let' em done like dat, neither.

"I been a-livin' by myse'f since my wife died. My son, Oscar, lives on de lan' an' rents it from me.

"I don't know what's gwine a-happen to de young folks now-a-days. Dey know better, but dey's wild an' don't care 'bout nothin'. I aint got no time to fool wid 'em. Looks like dey don't care 'bout workin' at nothin'.

"I been a-workin' all my life, an' I'se seen good times an' bad times. I loves to work yet. I's gwine out now soon's I git my dinner an' he'p finish pickin' dat patch o' cotton. I can pick two hund'ed pounds a day an' I's one hund'ed an' sixteen year old. I picks wid both han's an' don't have to stoop much. My back don't never ache me atall. My mammy teached me to pick cotton. She took a pole to me if I didn' do it right. I been a-pickin ever since. I'd ruther pick cotton dan eat, any day.

"But I'se seen enough. I's jus' a-waitin' for de call to meet all my folks in Heaven. Dey's a better place dan dis an' I's a-tryin' to treat ever'body right so's I can git to go to it.

"I's listenin' hard for dat call an' I know it won't be long a-comin'."

Susan Snow, Ex-slave, Lauderdale County FEC W.B. Allison Rewrite, Pauline Loveless Edited, Clara E. Stokes

SUSAN SNOW Meridian, Mississippi

"Aunt Sue" Snow, a rather small and profusely wrinkled 87-year-old ex-slave, lives in the Negro quarters of the South Side in Meridian.

In spite of her wild escapades, her reputation for honesty and reliability is high and she carries and exhibits with pride numerous letters attesting that fact.

She often finds it necessary to stand and act the story she is telling. Her memory is amazing and she turns with equal readiness to copious quotations from the Scripture and other pious observations to amusing but wholly unprintable anecdotes of her somewhat lurid past.

"I was born in Wilcox County, Alabama, in 1850. W.J. Snow was my old marster. He bought my ma from a man named Jerry Casey. Venus was her name, but dey mos'ly called her 'Venie.'

"I's workin' now for one o' my old folks. I can't work much--jus' carries things to 'er an' such. She's my old mistis' own daughter an' she's got gran'chillun grown an' married. All de chillun dat's livin' is older'n me.

"When her pa bought my mammy, I was a baby. Her pa owned a heap o' Niggers. I's de only one still hangin' aroun'.

"My ma was a black African an' she sho' was wild an' mean. She was so mean to me I couldn' b'lieve she was my mammy. Dey couldn' whup her widout tyin' her up firs'. Sometimes my marster would wait 'til de nex' day to git somebody to he'p tie her up, den he'd forgit to whup 'er. Dey used to say she was a cunger an' dey was all scared of 'er. But my ma was scared o' cungers, too.

"All de Niggers on de place was born in de fam'ly an' was kin, 'cept my ma. She tol' me how dey brought her from Africa. You know, like we say 'President' in dis country, well dey call him 'Chief' in Africa. Seem like de Chief made 'rangements wid some men an' dey had a big goober grabbin' for de young folks. Dey stole my ma an' some more an' brung 'em to dis country.

"I don't 'member nothin' 'bout havin' no pa. You know, honey, in dem days husbands an' wives didn' b'long to de same folks. My ma say her husband was so mean dat after us lef' Alabama she didn' want to marry no more.

"A man didn' git to see his wife 'cept twict a week. Dat was Wednesday an' Satu'd'y night.

"De women had to walk a chalk line. I never hear'd tell o' wives runnin' 'roun' wid other men in dem days.

"I was raised in Jasper County. Marster bought lan' from ever'body 'roun' 'til he had a big plantation. He had Niggers, horses, mules, cows, hogs, an' chickens. He was a rich man, den.

"Ever' Nigger had a house o' his own. My ma never would have no board floor like de res' of' em, on' count she was a African--only dirt. (Dey say she was 108 year old when she died.)

"Us went to church wid de white folks if us wanted to. Dey didn' make us. I didn' go much, 'cause I didn' have 'ligion, den. Us didn' have no schoolin'. Us could go to school wid de white chillun if us wanted to, but didn' nobody teach us. I's educated, but I aint educated in de books. I's educated by de licks an' bumps I got.

"My white folks was good people an' didn' whup nobody, 'less dey needed it. Some o' de Niggers was sho' 'nough bad. Dey used to take de marster's horses out at night an' ride 'em down. One Nigger, Sam, got dat mad at a mule for grabbin' at cotton he cut his tongue out. Course, Marster whupped him, but when he went to look for 'im 'bout a hour after, he foun' 'im soun' asleep. Said he ought to kill 'im, but he didn'.

"When we was sick dey had a doctor for us jus' like dey done for deyse'ves. Dey called 'im in to 'scribe for us. I was snake-bit when I was eight year old. Dey used to be a medicine named 'lobelia.' De doctor give me dat an' whiskey. My ma carried me up to de Big House ever' mornin' an' lef' me, an' carried me home at night. Old Mis' 'ud watch over me in de day time.

"My young marster tol' me dat when I got to be ten year old, I'd have a snake coiled up on my liver. Dat scared me mos' to death 'til I was past ten year old.

"Dey made all de Niggers' clo'es[FN: clothes] on de place. Homespun, dey called it. Dey had spinnin' wheels an' cards an' looms at de Big House. All de women spinned in de winter time.

"I never knowed what it was to wear more dan one garment, 'til I was mos' grown. I never had a pair o' shoes o' my own. Old Mis' let me wear her'n sometimes. Dey had shoes for de old folks, but not for de chillun.

"I got more whuppin's dan any other Nigger on de place, 'cause I was mean like my mammy. Always a-fightin' an' scratchin' wid white an' black. I was so bad Marster made me go look at de Niggers dey hung to see what dey done to a Nigger dat harm a white man.

"I's gwine tell dis story on myse'f. De white chillun was a-singin' dis song:

'Jeff Davis, long an' slim, Whupped old Abe wid a hick'ry limb.

Jeff Davis is a wise man, Lincoln is a fool, Jeff Davis rides a gray, an' Lincoln rides a mule.'

I was mad anyway, so I hopped up an' sung dis one:

'Old Gen'l Pope had a shot gun, Filled it full o' gum, Killed 'em as dey come.

Called a Union band, Make de Rebels un'erstan' To leave de lan', Submit to Abraham.'

"Old Mis' was a-standin' right b'hin' me. She grabbed up de broom an' laid it on me. She made _me_ submit. I caught de feathers, don't you forgit it.

"I didn' know it was wrong. I'd hear'd de Niggers sing it an' I didn' know dey was a-singin' in dey sleeves. I didn' know nothin' 'bout Abe Lincoln, but I hear'd he was a-tryin' to free de Niggers an' my mammy say she want to be free.

"De young folks used to make up a heap o' songs, den. Dey'd decompose[FN: compose] dey own songs an' sing' em. I never will forgit one song dey sung when dey buried anybody. It made Old Marster, Mistis, an' all of' em cry. Us chillun cried, too. It went like dis:

'My mother prayed in de wilderness, In de wilderness, In de wilderness. My mother prayed in de wilderness. An' den I'm a-goin' home.

Chorus:

Den I'm a-goin' home, Den I'm a-goin' home.

We'll all make ready, Lawd, An' den I'm a-goin' home.

She plead her cause in de wilderness, In de wilderness, In de wilderness. She plead her cause in de wilderness. An' den I'm a-goin' home.'

(Repeat chorus)

"Old Aunt Hannah fell to my marster from his daddy. She had twelve chillun a-workin' on de place. De oldes' was named Adam an' de littlest was named Eve. She had two twins what was named Rachel an' Leah. Dey nussed my mistis' two twins. Dey kep' one a-nussin' mos' all de time.

"My ma was de cause o' my marster a-firin' all de overseers. (Dey blamed ever'thing on her 'cause she was de only bought Nigger.) Marster say she was a valuable Nigger, but she was so mean he was afraid dey'd kill her. He say, 'She'll work widout no watchin' an' overseers aint nothin', nohow.'