did. Yes'm, I had two chilun during de war, a boy, Bob, and a girl,
Mary; and later a girl, Minnie. Married? No'm, I never married. I never was married.
"Well, no'm, I didn't have a very hard time after I was freed. Slaves wasn't hardly ever allowed to look in de door of de school house, so we couldn't learn to read and write. When I was freed Pap tried to learn me evenin's to count my fingers. He made me sit by the fireplace and learn to count and learn about money so's de white folks couldn't cheat me after I was free. After I was free one of Mr. Howard's boys taught me my letters and helped me learn to read some.
"After I was freed I went to St. Joseph and did housework. Den I was a chambermaid. After while I came back to Savannah to work for de Price family. Dey was mighty rich and had a big home. Place is still here. I had a fine time there. I remember Mr. Ed. V. Price. He was just a boy when I went there to work, and he did plague me terrible some times. He'd run into the kitchen, grab a handful of cake dough and run outside laughin'.
"Then I got so I couldn't work no more, and he was a rich man, and he always helped me. And he left me in his will ten dollars every month for de res' of my life. Oh yes'm I'm to get my state pension every month. It's goin' to be twelve dollars. I ain't got it yet, but I will fore long. I ain't skeared. 'Cause de white folks put de fust clothes on me, and fed me; and dey been doin' it ever since."
With a weary, dimming of her eyes, old Sarah settled back in her chair, sighed and murmured:
"I been here a long time. I'm 93 years old."
Minksie (Minksy) Walker
*Interview with Minksie (Minksy) Walker,* *Poplar Bluff, Missouri.*
The following interview pertaining to former slaves and the conditions under which they lived was obtained from Minksie (or Minksy) Walker, seventy-eight years old who lives at the end of Davis Street in a subdivision called New World, Poplar Bluff, Missouri.
"I was one year old when de war broke out and six years old when it closed. I don't remember the day or month I was born, but you can figure out how old I am. My mammy's name was Blanch Walker, de name Walker come from her belonging to Cannon Walker. He had two brothers, Sam and Jimmie, and all their ground run together. I well remembers dem boys and so does every one else. Dey was de best masters in all de south. Put all their slaves together, dey owned about two or three hundred. I don't know how much land dey had but it took a lot to keep all dat many niggers busy.
"I don't know where my parents was born, Old Virginia, I guess, but I was born in seven miles of Dyersburg, Tennessee. My father was Nat Parker and his master was 'Little Dan' Parker. He was kept on de Parker place but mammy got to see him every Sunday morning. Dey lived about five miles from us. Dey didn't get to talk in de evening 'cause de white folks preached for us then. We was called together in de brush arbor by a big bell dey rung. De arbor was as big as a square block here in town, but dey was so many of us dat we filled it up pretty quick. De meeting was about like it is now 'cept we didn't know half de time what dey was talking about, we couldn't read and learn; had to listen to learn.
"I well remember after meeting mammy would stop and talk with women and she said, 'Minksy, dis is your aunt, my sister. You can walk along home with her'. I was little and I would catch hold her dress tail to keep up. She would meet other women and dey would start talking about de meetin'. First thing I would know dey would be jumpin' up and dancin' around and pattin' their hands until all de grass was wore off slick.
"I didn't have no chance to go to school, but I was a little tad and did not have to work very hard either. I wasn't big enough to hitch up de team of oxen but some big person would and then I sure could drive them, drove all day, and I can remember hauling tobacco to de barns all day. We had several barns tall as dat tree, yonder (tree about 75 feet high.) About all we raised was tobacco. Dat sure 'nough was tobacco country, a little corn for de stock and we raised what we eat.
"De only fighting I remember of during the war was on de farm of Dan Parker. De soldiers met right in de middle of his corn and tobacco field and when dey got through de tobacco was tramped in de ground and you couldn't find a double handful of de corn.
"I have always said I was like a shingle, not like a barrel of snakes. You never saw a crooked shingle and you will never see a straight snake. I have always practiced one thing and dat is telling de truth about all things. Dat is why I can say I don't know much about de slavery times, I wasn't old enough. I was just a slave and dat is all. I said when I was a small boy, 'Lord, just give me de power to read de Bible, old blue back speller and the hymn book'. He done dis and I know de Bible by heart. I could preach for six years, and never tell all I know. I can't write a word or read anything but dese books. For a while I did preach. I traveled by mission. Didn't own a church of my own and didn't belong to any special one. I guess I must have preached about five years.
"I have been married twice, both my wives are dead. I don't know how old I was when I first married but I had been free many a day. I went to Dyersburg and bought de license. I got drunk and didn' get to Newbern, Tennessee, where my girl lived until de next day. We had two children, a boy and a girl. Dere names was George Earl and George Ella. Dere mother lived nine years and when she died I give them to their grandmother. I told her she could have dem and I would never bother around and I have never seen dem since. Guess they are grown by dis time if dey lived and are still alive, dey are the only kinfolks I have.
"I went to Clinton, Kentucky, and married again. Dat wife just lived a short time and then I moved to Arkansas and lived until thirty years ago when I moved to Butler County and Poplar Bluff. I have lived on dis hill all dat time and sometimes it gets lonesome but when it does I just gets my Bible and reads. I spend lots of time since my mule died, under the shade of dis tree, because I haven't anything to do anymore. I was just thinking de other day in slave times you never seed an old nigger man or woman allowed to rest in the shade. There was some work for dem. De old women took care of de kids and de old men kept clean around the master's door and barn yard.
"Where I was we fared extra fine during slave times. Our master, Cannon Walker, was a Union man. We had plenty pork meat to eat and fared fine. He bought us good clothes and paid all the doctor bills when we got sick. We had good houses too. We had to get up preety soon in de morning but we didn't know nothing then. Our old mistress wanted me to call her boy dat was de same age as me, Marster Tillie. I said, 'No, Mam, when he call me Marster Minksy then I call him Marster Tillie'. Master Cannon Walker did not allow any patrollers to boss his slaves when any of dem was stopped on de pike and ask who dey belonged to all dey had to say was Cannon, Sam or Jim Walker and dey never bothered them.
"My father and oldest brother run away with de Yankees during de war and we never heard of dem anymore. Our master give all de older men a place to raise chickens. He give others poplar trees to make charcoal and dey was allowed to make a little money on de side dis way. I remember hearing mammy tell dat one year he give all his men twenty bushels of corn a piece and dey took it to de still and had whiskey made out of it. They put de barrel in de field and she said there wasn't very much raised that year.
"De slaves did not have to fight in de war but sometimes one would go in to look after his young master. After de war and we was free, mammy hired out to our old master and we stayed on there two years. Den she married and we started moving from place to place. My step-father was a mean man. I couldn't have been more den ten years old when he started hiring me out by de day. I was hungry all de time because I had been used to plenty of pork meat and all he would let me eat was parched corn. One day I was working for Archie Dickerson, I was sick and he ask me what the matter with me. I told him I had been used to meat and my step-father would not let me have any. He called his wife and told her to feed me meat every day, I never will forget him.
"I didn't get any education but I don't care. Lawsy, dis is a free country now, you can either wear shoes or go barefooted. Slave times was alright before de war because we didn't know nothin' better, but I sho' wouldn't like it now. I am an old man now and I get de old age pension, so all I have to do is rest here under the tree and read my Bible."
James Wilson
*Interview with James Wilson,* *St. Louis, Missouri.*
_James Lives Alone At 87_
Living alone at the age of 87 probably is not a mode of existence that would appeal to many. However, James Wilson, a former slave living in a single room in the rear of 917 O'Fallon Street seemingly takes this little matter of a lonely existence in his stride. James stands quite erect, considering his years and his eyesight is good. His hair is white and he is about six feet tall.
When the writer called to interview him, both he and his room were spotlessly clean. Sitting outside the door of his quarters James' mind wandered back and forth through the years he has lived since he was born on Christmas day, 1850, and, piecing together the bits of information that he could recall, he told the following story:
"I was born in Charleston, South Carolina, December 25, 1850. John Wilson was my owner. He owned more than 700 slaves and a terrible big plantation where he raised cotton, rice, corn, and cattle. Bless your soul, daughter, he was a hard task master, yes he was. He owned big ships, both kinds, for freight and passengers. He kept me running on dem boats from de time I was 10 years old till I was 16. We sailed everywhere. From New York to Rome, Jerusalem, Sweden, France and everywhere under de sun transporting passengers, clothing, cotton, and everything from one country to another. I handled de sails. It certainly was hard work for me because I was so young, but I was an expert wid dem sails just de same. Yes, I was.
"But old President Abraham Lincoln taken me off dat boat, and I fought in de Civil War. I lacked two months of fighting five years. I never even married until 15 years ago, I married a woman 45 years old. After we was married, she decided I was too old for her, so she just went on off with a younger man. I never been de father of a child in my whole life. I git a $13 a month old age pension to live on. Since I been free, I made my living railroading, brakesman and steamboating.
"I voted many times in my life and just can't feel right to vote nothin' but a Republican ticket whether they ever get back in power again. I never did have a political job nor had no friends had any that I know of. I just can't explain how I feel 'bout this generation. Dey jes' ain't doing right, dat's all. Dey jes' doing everything dey is big enough to do. Don't regard nobody, don't care what dey say nor how dey act to their own parents nor nobody else's folks. Dey just sets me to worrying terrible sometimes, wonderin' what on dis earth gonna become of dis here sin-racked generation.
"Dem old Ku Klux was a bad lot of mongrels. Dey catch you out widout a pass dey cut you 100 lashes, and you feel like you ain't able to go nowhere again wid a pass or widout one. After de war was fought, I do know some of dem old slave owners to be nice enough to start der slaves off in freedom wid somethin' to live on till dey get on der feet, but dey wasn't in droves, I tell you dat now, just a mighty precious few. Den der was some others dat kept der slaves in bondage after de war, just like before de war and de slaves, never know till der dying day dat dey was free folks. Far as dat goes, down dere just below Sunflower, Mississippi, and lots of other countryside places in de deep South, dey got slavery right now. De only song I can think of we use to sing so much was: 'O, Lord Remember Me'.
"I can't remember none de other songs. I been all over de world, seen how different races are in dere own lands, and I often sits and wonder if maybe dese little fellows here now running about will see de equal rights dat gits talked about now and den. But, daughter, you and me will never see it. No we won't. I am a member of the Paradise Baptist Church."
Mintie Gilbert Wood
*Interview with Mintie Wood,* *St. Louis, Missouri.*
_Ex-slave Blind But Happy_
The subject of this sketch is Mintie Gilbert Wood, 90 years old. She lives at 4321 West Belle Avenue, St. Louis, Missouri, with her widowed daughter, Emma Swift, 69 years old.
In the living room of a 10 room brick residence located in the better class section of the Negro district of the city, Mintie lives with her oldest daughter and two granddaughters. The old woman has been blind for 8 years. She is quite bent and shows the burden of her years. She is hard of hearing and her mind is no longer keen and alert. Her daughter claims a recent illness has caused the latter trouble. However, the ex-slave very feebly tells the following story.
"I was born down in Bethel, Giles County, Tennessee, September 9, 1847. Marse Carey Gilbert was my owner and I lived on his farm until 1892, when I moved to little Rock, Arkansas. Marse Carey was mighty nice to his slaves and he had a host of 'em. Can't begin to say how many. My old uncle was de overseer of us younguns, about 50 young darkies, and he trained us up till we get a certain age, then they turn us over to the grown up lot, where the white overseer took charge of us. I don't 'member every thing so good, but I do de best I can. I 'member when Marse Gilbert's daughter Miss Rebecca married Marse Maples, they lived 'bout 8 or 10 miles from her daddy's farm, and she use to come home ever so often to visit. She looked so fine de slaves working in de field see her coming dey all stop and rest on der hoe to look at her pass by on her way to see her mamma, and she would tell 'em, you niggers better pray my father never die. Cause if he died, I wouldn't 'low none you niggers to lift your heads from de time you go to work till you quit. My niggers work and never stop. Marse Gilbert gave her 4 slaves as a wedding present, and they had a hard time, but her parents was mighty fine.
"Dey owned so much land, cattle, corn, sorghum, tobacco, millet, barley and everything the very finest kind and the wealth was handed down from one generation of the Gilberts to the other. Dey was so rich dey didn't know how much dey was worth themselves, but dey was altogether different than most of dem slave owners. Dey was prosperous 'cause dey was better folks. When peace was declared everyone of Marse Gilbert's slaves dat had sense enough and did stay wid him, got half of everything they earned turned in on land and stock to be independent right der on de same spot where we had been a slave. And he had so many of his family and darkies, too, he has his own graveyard where everyone of us black or white dat ever been in de Gilbert family can be buried without costing us a penny.
"He owned so much I can't begin to tell it, and nobody else I don't expect. Right now a gang of his old slaves' children is livin' right there owning and working property their parents slaved on, de old Gilbert estate and his folks der wid' em, yes mam. None of us never cared for Miss Rebecca. She made her slaves eat wid de hogs, even poured der milk in the hog trough and de hogs and slaves ate and drink together. She was worse dan de whole family of Gilberts. I get a blind pension.
"I never did learn to read or write, but my husband was a school teacher and he never was a slave. He was a soldier in the Rebel army. I had 6 children, 6 grandchildren, 3 great grand children and 3 great, great grandchildren. I liked to sew, knit and make quilts fore I was blind. I never used snuff or tobacco in my whole life. I have 2 sisters living, one 82 years old, one 84 years old and a brother 87 years old. Dey all live in Prospect Tennessee, where they were born and raised. My husband died in 1914. Den I went back to Tennessee to live with my father until 1916 when I came to St. Louis to live with my younger daughter Lydia King Davidson until 1920.
"Den I was called back home on account of the death of my father. After the funeral I went to Lonoke, Arkansas, to live with my oldest daughter, Emma Swift and been with her often and on ever since. I only eat 2 meals a day, that's breakfast around 7 o'clock and dinner between 1 and 2 o'clock, the rest of the time I drink plenty water all day and all through the night.
"We moved to St. Louis in the year 1922. I just can't get used to this younger generation. Dey sure is a reckless lot. Cause my life had plenty work 'tached to it. When I was coming along I split rails, hauled wood, raised de white folks family den turned right around and raised my own family.
"I believe in regular hours doing things, work, rest and everything else it takes to make up life. I worked as hard after freedom as I did in slavery. After all we got to work for a livin'. I don't believe in all dis gallivantin' around at night. You ain't fit for no work in de day when you don't rest at night. And I always believe in helping de fellow who needs help and can't help hisself, much as I can. I even ask my neighbors to save me all the old rags and bottles, anything they don't want no more so as I can sell it and git hol' of a little somethin' to help somebody, what ain't got some help like I got. I don't lose nothin' for that, and I get joy out of it. I always keeps my little old pocket book pinned in my pocket to put that little extra change in, and I got it here right now and some change in it, too. I never did vote, and never lived in Virginia nor know nothing about it. I do know de slaves 'spected a salary for der work when dey got free. Some of 'em got part of de promise, but most of 'em got nothin' but de promise. My owners was exceptions. Dere might of been some more like 'em but not many. At least I never heard of em. All my old favorite songs us slaves use to sing, I can't separate 'em anymore. I try to think of 'em, so I can sing 'em, but I jest find myself mixin' 'em up, and can't tell one from the other. Just singing. But the songs I like best dis day and time is 'Life Is Like A Mountain Railroad', 'God Will Take Care Of You', and 'I maybe blind, and I can not see, I may be crippled and I can not walk, But I'll meet you at the Station when the train comes along."
Ellaine Wright
*Interview with Ellaine Wright,* *Springfield, Missouri.*
Ellaine Wright was born March 1, 1840 and is 97 years of age. Was born of slave parents just outside of Springfield, Missouri, and lived there at the beginning of the Civil War.
Her father and mother's name was Evanson taken after "Marse Tom" Evanson who owned both Ellaine's mother and father and sixty other slaves. Tom Evanson was a wealthy farmer and ran a big hog and cattle stock ranch.
Ellaine Wright, whose name was Evanson in slavery was married after the war in 1866 to Pete Wright. She remembers the "Wilson's Creek" fight between the Union and Confederacy and only a short time after that she, with all the other Evanson slaves, was hurriedly taken south. The Evanson slaves with many other of the district were shipped as far south as possible to hide them from the Unionists. Ellaine Wright told of a heartbreaking meeting between she and her slave mother when Ellaine was just four years of age. Her mother had been sold to a slave trader and was to be taken to another state.
They permitted the slaves to say good-bye to their children and Ellaine said she would never forget the few words her mother spoke to her just before they were separated. "Ellaine, honey mamma's gwan way off and ain't never goin to see her baby agin". "An I can see myself holdin onto my mamma and both of us crying--and then, she was gone and I never seed her since. I hopes I goin to see my good mamma some day, I do. Yes' I'se goin to do it son, I sure is, yes indeed."
Ellaine doesn't seem to remember anything concerning the Civil War. Just this one important thing clings to her memory--her parting with her mammy.
Sim Younger
*Interview with Sim Younger,* *Sedalia, Missouri.* *Geo. K. Bartlett, Kansas City, Mo.* *Reference: FC by Kathleen Williams.*
The two-story frame house, very plain in appearance, almost square in shape, located at 400 North Moniteau Street, Sedalia, is the home of Sim Younger, an interesting product of Negro slavery. He was born May 17, 1850, at Independence, Missouri; at the dawn of the "Golden Age of Steamboating on the Missouri River" and is a pensioned soldier of the Civil War.
Traditions and customs of the Old South have stamped their influence on the modest home. A porch extends across the front of the house and steps lead to the front door, but neither the porch nor front door are used much. They are for formal occasions.
However, home life begins with the smaller porch on the south side where bright flowered morning glory vines climb twine strings, their large green leaves bringing sheltering shadows to Sim's favorite resting place. Here is placed an old-fashioned hickory chair with woven cane seat which is his haven of peace and comfort.
The yard on this side of the house affords plenty of space for exercise and a large catalpa tree spreads grateful shade. It was here, under the catalpa tree that Sim Younger wanted his picture taken while seated in his favorite chair. There is a quiet, soldierly dignity about the old Negro that is striking and impressive. He is well preserved for all of his 87 years and his keen eyes require no glasses. The impress of his college education and soldierly training are evidenced by his conversation, bearing and the lack of Negro dialect in his speech.
He courteously expressed pleasure at the request for an interview on slavery and invited me into the house. The living room where we talked is large, the floor is covered with linoleum and a leather covered couch stands against the wall. In the center of the room is a large oak table. Other furniture consists of two plain oak chairs, but no rocking chairs.
Sim lives alone, and while we were talking a Negro brought in his breakfast; a pint of milk, an egg and two slices of toast. Although urged, Sim would not violate his code by eating in my presence.
"My father," he replied in answer to my question, "was Charles Younger, the originator of the Younger family in Missouri, and grand father of Cole, Bob, and Jim Younger. My father was my mother's master. She was a Simpson. I knew Cole Younger well."
Cole, Bob, and Jim Younger, known as "The Younger Brothers", were notorious outlaws. It is recorded that Sim's father was the Younger who operated a canoe ferry across the Missouri River from Randolph Bluffs, in 1821, to what is now Kansas City, then known as Chouteau's Landing.
"My father died when I was five years old, and left mother a farm on which my brothers and sisters are still living. Father arranged for my education and by the terms of his will I was sent to Oberlin, Ohio, where I was reared by Delia Sheppard, in whose care I was placed."
Sim Younger related that he attended Oberlin College, and graduated from there in 1870. He did not see his mother from the time he was five years old until he was the age of 21. When comment was made that he did not use Negro dialect, Sim explained, saying:
"That is due to my early training. Delia Sheppard gave me excellent training, and I remember everything she told me, even when I was a very little boy.
"I will always remember one thing she told me," he continued, fondly reminiscent. "I was just a little boy and she said, 'Sim, if, when visiting, you find a pin on the floor, put it up and call attention to it. It does not belong to you.'
"Yes, ma'am," he continued, "I was born in slavery and I enlisted in the Union Army, January 1, 1864, at Oberlin, Ohio, and according to the National Tribune, I was one of the youngest soldiers in the ranks.
"I was present at the battle of Petersburg, Virginia, July 30, 1864; one of the disasters to the Northern forces of the war, and present on June 15, 1864, at the initiatory battle of Deep Bottom, and also at Cold Harbor.
"I was in the Ninth Army Corps, under Burnside, and was transferred around, in front of Richmond, Virginia.
"General Butler went down to Fort Fisher and failed, which was the last open port of the Confederacy. Another expedition was organized and General Terry given command. We embarked on the night of December 31, 1864; landed the morning of January 13, 1865, on the peninsula. On the night of January 15, 1865, we captured Fort Fisher.
"We had a terrible, terrible time landing! There was an awful storm! I was told to jump overboard, and oh my! I swallowed a good deal of the Atlantic!"
He sat still a moment, living over in memory the thrilling events of that night at Fort Fisher, then, saddened by the pageant of the past evoked from memory's storehouse, he said:
"I want to tell you of one of the tragic things that happened during the war, and I was there and saw it.
"It was at the Southside railroad, at Petersburg, on September 27, 1865. I was put on picket duty. The 'Rebs' had built a fire and the wind was driving it toward us. They began to holler and cheer, very happy over the fact.
"All at once we could hear someone coming toward us. The pickets opened fire on what they thought were 'Rebs', and found out to their distress that it was a bunch of recruits from our own lines. Many were killed."
The shadow of this past grief faded from his countenance and in a brighter mood he exclaimed:
"If I could choose my weapons for the next war, I would choose doughnuts, to be thrown at each other across the Atlantic."[4]
[4] Bibliography: E. Miller, W.H., "History of Jackson County, Mo.", Kansas City, Mo., Union Hist. Co., 1881. 1006 pp., illus., map. Consultant: Pearly Smith English, Service Officer, American Legion, (colored), Nineteenth and Missouri Street, Sedalia, Mo.]
Transcriber's Note
Original spelling has been maintained; e.g. "_stob_--a short straight piece of wood, such as a stake" (American Heritage Dictionary).--The Works Progress Administration was renamed during 1939 as the Work Projects Administration (WPA).