"I married Fannie Irwin, and God blessed us all the days of her life. My daughter, Maggie, married a Collins and lives in the Harlem section of New York City. My daughter, Sallie, lives also in Harlem, Greenville Village. Malinda, named for my mother, lives and works in Columbia, S. C.

"On the death of my wife, Fannie, I courted and married the widow Lizzie Williams. The house we live in is her own property. She had two children when we married, a boy and a girl. The boy got killed at the schoolhouse two years ago. The girl is working in Columbia, S. C. I am a superannuated minister of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and receive a small sum of money from the denomination, yearly. The amount varies in different years. At no time is it sufficient to keep me in food and clothing and support.

"I have taken nothing to do with politics all my life, but my race has been completely transformed, in that regard, since Mr. Roosevelt has been President. Left to a popular vote of the race, Mr. Roosevelt would get the solid South, against any other man on any ticket he might run on. He is God Almighty's gentleman. By that, I mean he is brave in the presence of the blue-bloods, kind in the presence of the common people, and gentle to the lowly and despised Negro."



Project 1885-1 Folklore Spartanburg, Dist. 4 Dec. 1, 1937 Edited by: Elmer Turnage

[HW: (Dorroh] STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES

"I live wid my daughter in a four-room house which we rents from Doc Hunter. He got it in charge. My husband died several years ago.

"My daddy was Harvey Pratt, and he belonged to Marse Bob Pratt in Newberry. My mammy was Mary Fair, and she belonged in slavery to marse Simeon Fair. When dey married dey had a big wedding. Marse didn't make slave women marry men if dey didn't want to. Befo' my mammy and daddy married, somebody give a note to take to Mrs. Fair, her mistress. Mistress wouldn't tell what was in it, but daddy run every step of de way, he was so glad dey would let 'em marry.

"Col. Simeon Fair had a big fish pond on his place down on de branch behind his house, and he had a milkhouse, too. (This is where the Margaret Hunter Park is).

"My great-grandmother come from Virginia. She was bought by Marse Fair from a speculator's drove. Slaves had good places to live in and everything to eat. Old Marse sho cared for his slaves. He give 'em plenty of clothes and good things to eat. On Sundays dey had to go to de white folks' church and he made dem put on new clean clothes dat he give 'em.

"I was born about two years befo' freedom, and I lost my mammy right atter de war. I remember about de Ku Klux and Red Shirts.

"Everything we had was made at home, or on marster's big plantation in de country. Marse told his son, Billy, befo' he died to take care of his niggers and see dat dey didn't want for nothing.

"Marse made de slaves work all day and sometimes on Saturdays, but he never let 'em work at night. Sometimes on de plantation dey had corn-shuckings and log-rollings; den dey give de hands good dinners and some whiskey to drink.

"One old nigger had a weak back and couldn't work much, so he use to play marbles in de yard wid de kids most every day.

"Slaves couldn't go away from de place unless dey had a pass from de marse to show de patrollers when dey caught dem out.

"My daddy use to cook at de old Newberry Hotel. He was one of de finest cooks in dis part of de country. De hotel was a small wooden frame building wid a long front piazza. In de back was a small wooden two-room house dat servants lived in. Atter de war, de 'little guard house' stood jes' behind where de opera house now is.

"Some of de slaves learned to read and write. Marse didn't keep dem from learning if dey wanted to. Niggers used to sing, 'I am born to die'. Dey learn't it from Marse Ramage's son, 'Jock' Ramage. He learn't 'em to sing it.

"Atter de war, Marse told de niggers dey was free. Most of dem stayed on wid him and took his name. Slaves most always took de name of deir marsters.

"My mother married at Thomas Pope's place, and he had old man Ned Pearson, a nigger who could read and write, to marry 'em. He married lots of niggers den. Atter de war many niggers married over agin, 'cause dey didn't know if de first marriage was good or not.

"Marse Fair let his niggers have dances and frolics on his plantation, and on Saturdays dey danced till 12 o'clock midnight. Sometimes dey danced jigs, too, in a circle, jumping up and down. In dese times de young folks dance way into Sunday mornings, and nobody to stop 'em, but Marse wouldn't let his slaves dance atter 12 o'clock.

"Everybody believed in ghosts. Nobody would pass by a graveyard on a dark night, and dese days dey go to cemeteries to do deir mischief, at night and not afraid. Doctors used to have home-made medicines. Old Dr. Brown made medicine from a root herb to cure rheumatism. He called it 'rhue'. He lived in what is now called Graveltown. His old house has been torn down. He made hot teas from barks for fevers. He made a liquid salve to rub on for rheumatism.

"When freedom come most of de slaves stayed on. Some man come here to make a speech to de slaves. He spoke in Marse Fair's yard to a big crowd of niggers and told dem to stay on and work for wages. When de Yankees come through here, dey stole everything dey could git deir hands on. Dey went in de house and took food and articles. Marse put guards around his house to keep dem out so dey wouldn't steal all de potatoes and flour he had for his slaves. Ku Klux went around de country and caught niggers and carpetbaggers. De carpetbaggers would hunt up chillun's lands, whose daddys was killed and try to take dem. Dat was when Judge Leheigh was here, and Capt. Bone was postmaster. Dey was Republicans, but when de Democrats got in power dey stopped all dat.

"When I married John Dorroh I had a big wedding. We married at de Harp place in Newberry, jes' behind de big house, in a nigger cottage. White folks and niggers come. I was known amongst de best white families 'cause I served as cook for dem. I was married by Rev. J. K. Walls, a nigger preacher from Charleston.

"I think slavery ended through de work of Almighty God. My mother always said dat was it. My daddy left here and went to Memphis when I was five years old. He sent home $40. He was in de army wid Major James Baxter. He took care of de guns and things of de Major."

Source: Isabella Dorroh (N, 75), Newberry, S. C. Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 11/22/27.



Project 1885-1 Spartanburg, S. C. May 31, 1937 Edited by: Martha Ritter

FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES

"I was born in Newberry County, S. C. below Prosperity on Capt. George De Walt's place. My daddy and mammy was Giles and Lizzie De Walt Downing. My daddy belonged to de Outz family, but changed his name to Downing—his master was Downing Outz. I was born about 1857. My mother had 16 children, some died young.

I was a little chap when the war was here, but I remember de soldiers coming home from de war. De Yankees went through here and stole all the cattle and all the eats. De Ku Klux marched down de road dressed in white sheets. Freedom come and most of the slaves went away, but I stayed on wid Marse De Walt. Daddy worked wid Downing Outz for wages. When I was 15 years old I worked in de fields like grown folks. I never learned to read and write. We had no schools then for colored people. De only church we had after freedom come was a small "brush arbor" church.

"We hunted rabbits, 'possums, squirrels, wild turkeys, doves and partridges there.

"I joined de church when I was 20 years old, 'cause I thought times would be better for me then. Of course, I kind of back-slided little afterwards, but always tried to do right.

Source: Laurence Downing (80), Newberry, S. C. Interviewer: G. Leland Sumer, Newberry, S. C.



Project 1885-(1) Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis Place, Marion, S. C. Date, Jane 23, 1937

WASHINGTON DOZIER Ex-Slave, 90 years

"Dis heah sho' Washington Dozier. Dat is wha' de hard time left uv him. I born en raise dere in Florence County de 18th uv December, 1847. Don' know 'xactly wha' my father name, but my mudder tell me he wuz name Dozier. My mudder wuz Becky en she b'long to ole man Wiles Gregg dere on de Charleston road. I hab two sisters en one brother, but not uv one father. I s'ppose brother Henry wuz me whole brother en Fannie en Ca'oline wuz jes me half sister."

"Well, dey ne'er hab so mucha sumptin, but I recollect dey make dey own produce den. Oh, dey lib very well. We call it good libin' at dat time. Coase de bedding de colored peoples hab wasn't much cause dey jes hab some kind uv home-made stuff den. We raise in a t'ree room house wha' hab floor on two uv de room. Hab house right dere on de Gregg plantation. Family went from age to age in dat day en time wid dey own Massa name. I 'member my gra'mudder was name Fannie Gregg. Now, I tell yuh how I 'count fa me hab de name Dozier, I jes s'ppose dat come from me father."

"Hadder do some sorta work in dem days lak hoe corn en replant en so on lak dat, but ne'er didn't do no man work. Wuz jes uh half hand, dat is 'bout so. Dey gi'e us plenty sumptin to eat den, but ne'er pay us no money. Coase dey didn't 'low us no choice uv wha' we eat at dat time. Hab plenty meat en corn bread en molasses mos' aw de time. Den dey le' us hab uh garden uv we own en we hunt possum many uh time en ketch fish too. Meat was de t'ing dat I lak mostly."

"Dey gi'e us good clothes to put on us back wha' dey hab make on de plantation en in de winter, dey gi'e us good warm clothes. Jes wear wha'e'er de white folks gi'e us. Didn't take no 'ffect tall 'bout Sunday clothes."

"Fust time I marry I hab uh very good wedding. Marry ole man Gurley daughter o'er in Florence County. Don' know 'xactly how ole I was den, but I c'n tell yah dis much, I wasn't in no herry to marry. Aw colored peoples hadder do to marry den wuz to go to dey Massa en ge' uh permit en consider demselves man en wife. I recollect dat we hab a very good wedding supper dere. I marry Georgeanna de second time en I hab four head uv chillun by me fust wife en four head uv chillun by me second wife. Ne'er couldn't tell how many gran'chillun I got."

My Massa en Missus wuz mighty pious good people. Dey go to preachin' dere to Hopewell Presbyterian Chu'ch aw de time. De man wha' wuz de preacher dere den wuz name Frierson. De colored peoples go dere to dat same chu'ch en sot en de gallery. Yuh know dere spirituals hymns en dere reels. I c'n sing one uv dem dat I use'er sing in my slumberin' hours. It go lak dis:

Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'? Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'? Oh Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin' When ole Gable go down on de seashore?

He gwinna place one foot in de sea En de udder on de land, En declare tha' time would be no more, Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do?

Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'? Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'? Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do When ole Gable go down on de seashore?

He gwinna place one foot in de sea En de udder on de land, En declare tha' time would be no more, Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?

"Now de angels sing dat to me in my slumberin' hour en dey sing it dat I might gi'e it to de libin' heah on dis earth. Well, I know right smart uv dem song cause accordin' to my 'sperience, de hymn book wha' to fence de human family in. I got ah good set uv lungs en I wuz de one wha' lead de flock den. Dere jes one grand reason why I can' sing right well dis a'ternoon, yuh is take me on de surprise lak."

"I was jes uh chap in slavery time en I hadder stay dere home aw de time whey dere didn't no harm come 'bout me. Dey le' we chillun play marbles en ball aw we wanna den. Jes chunk de ball to one annuder o'er de house. Dat how we play ball in dem times. My white folks didn't do nuthin but stay home en go to chu'ch meetin's. Dey ne'er didn't punish none uv dey colored peoples en didn' 'low no udder people to do it neither. I couldn't tell yah how many slave dey own but dey hab more slave by de increase uv dey families. Dey hab so many dat some uv de time dey'ud hire some uv dem out to annuder plantation. Ne'er didn't see em sell none uv dey colored peoples. I know dis much, dat wuz uh right good place to lib."

"I heared tell uv trouble 'tween de whites en de colored peoples, but dere wuzn't none uv dat 'round whey I stay. Dey say some uv de slave run 'way fa bad treatment en stay in de woods. Didn't hab no jails den en when dey'd ketch em, dey'ud buff em en gag em en hoss whip em. Now, I ne'er see none uv dat but I heared tell uv it."

"My Massa ne'er didn't work us hard lak. Coase uz de day' ud come, de hands hadder go up to de big house en go 'bout dey business, but dey al'ays knock offen early on uh Saturday evenin' en le' everbody do jes wha' dey wanna dere on de plantation. Ne'er didn't use no horn to wake dey colored peoples up en didn't wake em work en de big Christmus day en New Years' neither. Ne'er hab no udder holidays but dem two. My Massa gi'e aw his colored peoples uh big Christmus dinner to de white folks house. Jes hab plenty uv fresh meat en rice en biscuit en cake fa eve'ybody dat day."

"Dey hab funeral fa de colored peoples den jes lak dey hab dese days 'cept dey ne'er hab no preacher 'bout. Aw de slaves stop workin' fa de funeral en dey'ud jes carry de body en permit it to de ground uz wuz de usual t'ing dey do. Coase dey hab plenty singin' dere."

"Dem t'ing wha' people call ghostes, dey is evil walks. I know dis much, de sperit uv de body travels en dat de truth sho' uz I libin' heah. Coase I ain' ne'er see none uv dem t'ing en I ain' scared uv nuthin neither. Don' ne'er pay no 'ttention to no black cat en t'ing lak dat. Ain' bother wid none uv dem charm neither. De peoples use'er hab dey own doc'or book en dey search dat en use wha' it say do. Dey ne'er use no me'icine tall den but calomel en castor oil en turpentine."

"I sho' 'member when de fust gun shoot dere to Fort Sumter. Us fer uz I c'n recollect, it wuz in June. De Yankees come t'rough dere en to my knowin', dey 'haved very well. Jes ax my Massa fa sumptin to eat en dat wuz aw dey done. Dere sho' wuz uh rejoicing 'mongest some uv de colored peoples when dey tell em dey wuz free uz de white folks wuz. Some uv dem leab dey Massa plantation jes uz soon uz dey know'd dey wuz free, but we ne'er do dat. Jes stayed right on dere wid Mr. Gregg en work fa one-third uv wha' dey make. Coase de white folks furnish aw de wear en tear uv eve't'ing."

"Dey ain' ne'er hab no schools fa de colored peoples no whey 'bout whey I stay 'fore freedom come heah. Won' long a'ter de war dat free schools wuz open up dere. It jes lak dis, I ain' bother wid dem schools mucha den, but I c'n read right smart. Jes ketch it uz I come 'long en wha' I kotch, I put dat to work. I is went to one uv dese night schools dey hab 'bout heah not long gone."

"Mr. Abraham Lincoln, I ain' ne'er see him, but I know he wuz de President uv de United States. Ain' ne'er see Mr. Jefferson Davis neither. Dey wus oppositionalist den, I sho' know dat."

"It jes lak dis, I t'ink dis uh better day we lib in dese times. When we b'long to de white folks, we lib, en a'ter we wuz free we lib right on. I t'ink being free de best time to lib. Better to be loose den tied cause don' care how good yo' owner, yuh hadder be under dey jurisdiction. Ain' dat right?"

Source: Washington Dozier, age 90, colored, Pee Dee, Marion Co. (Personal interview, June 1937).



Project 1885-1 Spartanburg Dist. 4 Sept. 22, 1937 Edited by: Elmer Turnage

STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES [HW: Duk]

"Vinie Wilkins is my daughter's name dat live wid me. My son owns dis house and he keeps it up fer me and his sister. I's born on de bank of Cherokee Creek, but I jest 'members how many years I stayed dar. Atter Freedom had been a long time, we moved to Mr. Chesterfield Scruggs' plantation whar we share cropped. It was on de old Spartanburg road from here to Spartanburg.

"I was purtty good-size chile when de Ku Klux come and tried to git my daddy. Dey whipped him; den he run off and stayed off fer over seven years. Dem Ku Klux was in all kinds of shapes, wid horns and things on dere heads. Dey was so scary looking dat I ain't never fergot dem. Dem's de awfulest 'boogers' I is ever see'd befo' or since. I was in de bed and so was Pa, but dey broke in our do' and got him. I kivvered up my head and did not make narry a sound. Dat's all dat I can recollect now."

Source: Alice Duke (72), 401 Woods St., Gaffney, S. C. Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 9/16/37



Project, 1885-(1) Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis Place, Marion, S. C. Date, June 9, 1937

AUNT SILVA DURANT Ex-Slave

"I don' know 'xactly when I wuz born but I hear my white folks say dat I wuz born de fust (first) year uv freedom. I I c'n tell yuh dis much dat I wuz uh grown 'oman when de shake wuz. Aw de older peoples wuz at de chu'ch en ha' left us home to take care uv aw dem little chillun. Fust t'ing we is know de house 'gin to quiver lak. We ne'er know wha' been to matter en den de house 'gin to rock en rock en rock. We wuz so scare we run outer in de yard en eve't'ing outer dere wuz jes uh shaking jes lak de house wuz. We ne'er know wha' to do. Den we heared de peoples comin' from de chu'ch jes uh runnin' en uh hollerin'. Didn't nobody know wha' make dat. I tellin yuh jes lak dat wuz, de jedgment ain' ne'er been no closer come heah den when dat shake was."

"My mudder wuz name Clorrie en she b'long to Miss Millie Gasque up de road dere. I born in Miss Millie yard en I stay dere till I wuz six year old. My pa say I wuz six year old. He been ole man Vidger Hanes en b'long to Mr. Wesley White o'er dere 'bout laughin 'fore freedom 'clare. A'ter dat we move on de hill en my pa hire me dere to Colonel Durant to wash dishes en help 'bout de kitchen. Den dey put me to do de washin' en I been uh washin' en uh washin' mos' e'er since. Dats de way I done till I ge' so I ne'er couldn't make it en den I hadder quit offen. Dat how come I hab aw dese pretty flowers. Miss Durant gi'e me aw dem dahlia wha' yuh see in dat yard right dere. Dat how I ge' wha' little bit uv money I hab dese day en time. Dem white folks up dere in town comes down heah en begs em from me."

"Dey tell me some uv de peoples ge' 'long good en den some uv dem ge' 'long bad back dere in slavery day. Don' care how good peoples is dere sho' be uh odd'un de crowd some uv de time. Dey say some uv de colored peoples'ud run 'way from dey Massa en hide in de woods. Den dey slip back to de plantation in de night en ge' green corn outer de white folks field en carry em back in de woods en cook em dere. I hear Tom Bostick tell 'bout when he run 'way one time. Say he use'er run 'way en hide in de woods aw de time. Den de o'erseer ketch him one time when he been come back en wuz grabblin' 'bout de tatoe patch. Say he gwinna make Tom Bostick stay outer de woods ur kill him 'fore sun up dat day. Tom say dey take him down 'side de woods en strip he clothes offen him. (I hear em say dere plenty people bury down 'side dem woods dat dere ain' nobody know 'bout). Den he say dey tie him to uh tree en take uh fat light'ud torch en le' de juice drap outer it right on he naked body. He say he holler en he beg en he ax em hab mercy but dat ne'er didn't do no good. He mock how de tar make uh racket when it drap on he skin. Yuh know it gwinna make uh racke't. Dat t'ing gwinna make uh racket when it drap on anyt'ing wha' fresh. Ain' yuh ne'er hear no hot grease sizzle lak? Yas'um, hear Tom Bostick tell dat more times den I got fingers en toe."

"Den dey'ud hab sale en sell some uv de colored peoples offen to annuder plantation hundred mile 'way some uv de time. 'Vide man en he wife. Dey sho' done it. I hear pa tell 'bout dat. Make em stand up on uh stump en bid em offen dere jes lak dey wuz hoss. Pa say dey sell he brother Elic wife 'way wid de onlyest child dey hab. Ne'er didn't see dat wife en child no more."

"Coase de le' de colored peoples visit 'round from one plantation to annuder but dey hadder hab uh ticke' wid em. Effen dey meet em in de road en dey ne'er hab dat ticke' somewhey 'bout on em, dey hadder take wha' follow. Ne'er 'low em to hab no udder paper 'bout em no whey. Effen dey see em wid uh paper, dey ax em 'bout it en effen it ne'er been uh ticke', dey mighty apt to gi'e em uh good t'rashin'."

"Dey tell me some uv de colored peoples use'er take t'ing from dey Massa, but I ain' ne'er see em do none uv dat on my white folks plantation. Ne'er hadder take nuthin dere. Ge' 'nough meal en meat dere to de big house eve'y Friday to las' em aw t'rough de week. Reckon de ration wuz more wholesome den in dat day en time cause dey take time en cook dey t'ing done. Hadder cook in de fireplace. Dat how dey done. I 'member wha' good t'ings my ole mammy use'er cook in dat spider. Jes set it on de coals en keep uh turnin' it 'bout wid de handle. Dere ain' ne'er nuthin eat no better den dat ash cake she use'er make fa we chillun. Yuh ain' ne'er hear tell 'bout dat. Jes ster (stir) up uh nice hoecake en wrap it up in oak leaves wha' right sorta wet. Den yuh rake uh heap uv ash togedder en lay yuh hoecake on dat en kiver it up wid some more ash. Yuh le' it cook right done en den yuh take it up en wash it offen en it ready to eat. Us chillun lub dat den."

"Annuder t'ing dat eat right smart in dem days wuz dat t'ing call big hominy. Dey jes ge' some whole grain corn en put it in de pot en boil it long time. Den dey take it offen de fire en pour lye water aw o'er it. Dey do dat to ge' de husk offen it. Soak ash outer de fire en ge' dat lye water. Den dey hadder take it to de well outer in de yard en wash it uh heap uv time to ge' dat lye outer it. A'ter dat dey season it wid salt en pepper en cook it annuder time. No 'mam, dey ne'er eat it wid no butter. Jes drap it in de grease wha' left in de pan a'ter dey fry de meat en make it right brown lak. Dat de way dey cook dey big hominy."

"Folks don' hab time to do t'ings in de right way lak dey use'er cause de world gwine too fas' dese day en time. Dese people comin' up 'bout heah dese days ain' gwinna ne'er quit habin' so mucha belly ache long uz dey ain' stop eatin' aw dem half done ration dey is eat. Coase de peoples wiser now but dey weaker. De peoples wuz more humble in dem days. When dey didn't hab no rain, dey ge' togedder en pray fa rain en dey ge' it too. I tellin' yuh peoples gotta work effen dey gwinna ge' to de right place when dey leab heah. Effen de peoples ne'er didn't go to chu'ch in dem days, dey stay home. Ne'er see chillun in de road on Sunday eve'y which uh way lak yunnah see em dese days. My pa say yuh mus' train up uh child in de way he oughta go en den effen dey stray 'way, dey sho' come back a'ter while. I tellin' yuh de peoples ain' lak dey use'er wuz. Dey sho' wickeder en worser in dis day en time den when I raise up. Dey wuz more friendly den en do more favor fa peoples. It jes lak dis, I ain' gwinna do nobody no harm. Effen I can' do em no good, ain' gwinna do no harm en ain' gwinna 'buse em neither."

Source: Aunt Silva Durant, colored, Marion, S. C. Personal interview, May 1937.



Project, 1885-(1) Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis Place, Marion, S. C. Date, October 21, 1937

SYLVIA DURANT Ex-Slave, 72 Years

"Well, I tell you just like it been. Dat was an unexpectin trip when you come here dat day en I wasn' thinkin bout much dat I had know to tell you. It been kind o' put me on a wonder."

"You see, child, I never didn' see my grandfather cause when I was born, dey had done sold him away. I hear tell dat sometimes dey would take de wife from dey husband en another time dey would take de husband from dey wife en sell dem off yonder somewhe' en never didn' see dem no more neither. Yes, I sho know dat cause I hear my father speak bout dat plenty times. Yes, mam, dey sold my uncle's wife away en he never didn' see her no more till after freedom come en he done been married again den. Speculators carried my mother's first husband off en den she married again. Cose I was born of de second husband en dat ain' been yesterday."

"I hear talk bout dat didn' none of de colored people have nothin in slavery time en heap of dem wasn' allowed to pick up a paper or nothin no time. Often hear dem talk dat some of de niggers was freed long time fore dey know bout it. Hear dem say some white folks hold dem long time till dey could make out to get somethin for demselves. Don' think so. Don' think so. No, mam, don' think so. Dey might been intended for dem to get somethin when dey was freed, but I never learn of nobody gettin nothin. Cose I often heard my father say some white folks thought more bout dey colored people den others en hope dem out more. Hear tell dat didn' none of dem have no clothes much den. No, mam, colored people won' bless wid no clothes much in dem days. I remember dey had to wear dese old big shoes, call brogans, wid brass all cross de toes here. Nobody don' wear nothin like dat now. Dey was coarse shoes. Some say plenty of de people had to go barefooted all de time in dem days. Reckon dat would kill de people in dis day en time. Couldn' stand nothin like dat. Yes, mam, see Tom Bostick walk right cross dat field many a day just as barefooted as he come in de world en all de ground would be covered over wid ice en snow. De people get after him en he say, 'Well, I had worser den dis to go through wid in slavery time.' Say he come up dat way en he never know no difference den dat he had thick shoe on his foot."

"Well, you see, some of de white folks would spare dey colored people so much ration when dey knock off work on a Saturday to last dem till de next Saturday come. Hear tell dey give dem a peck of meal en a little molasses en a hog jowl en dat had to last dem all de week. Dem what use a little tobacco, give dem a plug of dat en give dem a little flour for Sunday. Didn' nobody have to work on Sunday en den dey would allow dem two days off for Christmas too. I tellin you bout how my white folks would do, but dem what had a rough Massa, dey just got one day. I hear dem say dey always had a little flour on Christmas. Don' know what else dey give dem, but won' nothin much. I know dat. Sho know dat."

"I hear say two intelligent people didn' live so far apart en one never treat dey colored people right en being as dey wasn' allowed to go from one place to another widout dey had a ticket wid dem, dey would steal somethin en run away. Say de just man tell dat other man dat if he would feed his niggers right, dey wouldn' have no need to be stealin so much things. No'um, I does hate to tell dat. Cose dey say dey done it. Say de overseer would beat dem up dat never do what he tell dem to do mighty bad en wouldn' be particular bout whe' dey was buried neither. Hear talk dat dey bury heap of dem in a big hole down side de woods somewhe'. Cose I don' know whe' dat word true or not, but dat what dey tell me."

"Oo—oo—yes, mam, dey sho whip de colored women in dem days. Yes, mam, de overseer done it cause I hear dem say dat myself. Tell dat dey take de wives en whip de blood out dem en de husband never didn' dare to say nothin. Hear dey whip some so bad dey had to grease dem. If de colored people didn' do to suit de white folks, dey sho whip dem. No, mam, if dey put you out to work, ain' nobody think dey gwine lay down under de bresh (brush) en stay dere widout doin dey portion of work. Yes, child, hear bout dat more times, den I got fingers en toes."

"Oh, de times be worser in a way dese days. Yes, mam, dey sho worser in a way. De people be wiser now den what dey used to be, but dere so much gwine on, dey ain' thinkin bout dey welfare no time en dat'll shorten anybody days. Oh, honey, we livin in a fast world dese days. Peoples used to help one another out more en didn' somebody be tryin to pull you down all de time. When you is found a wicked one in dat day en time, it been a wicked one. Cose de people be more intelligent in learnin dese days, but I'm tellin you dere a lot of other things got to build you up 'sides learnin. Dere one can get up to make a speech what ain' got no learnin en dey can just preach de finest kind of speech. Say dey ain' know one thing dey gwine say fore dey get up dere. Folks claim dem kind of people been bless wid plenty good mother wit. Den another time one dat have de learnin widout de mother wit can get up en seem like dey just don' know whe' to place de next word. Yes, mam, I hear dat often."

"What I meant by what I say bout de wicked one? I meant when you found a wild one, it been a wild one for true. I mean you better not meddle wid one like dat cause dey don' never care what dey do. People look like dey used to care more for dey lives den dey do dese days. Dat what I meant, but you can weigh dat like you want to. You see, dere be different ways for people to hurt demselves."

"Oh, my soul, hear talk bout dere be ghosts en hants, but I never didn' experience nothin like dat. Yes, mam, I hear too much of dat. Been hearin bout dat ever since I been in a manner grown, you may say. I hear people say dey see dem, but I ain' take up no time wid nothin like dat. I have a mind like dis, if such a thing be true, it ain' intended for everybody to see dem. I gwine tell you far as I know bout it. I hear dese old people say when anybody child born wid a caul over dey face, dey can always see dem things en dem what ain' born dat way, dey don' see dem. Cose I don' know nothin bout what dat is en I is hate to tell it, but I hear lot of people say dey can see hants en ghosts all time of a night. Yes'um, I hear de older people say dat, but I don' know whe' it true or no. I know I don' see nothin myself, but de wind. Don' see dat, but I feels it."

"Oh, my God, some people believe in dat thing call conjurin, but I didn' never believe in nothin like dat. Never didn' understand nothin like dat. Hear say people could make you leave home en all dat, but I never couldn' see into it. Never didn' believe in it."

"Yes, mam, I see plenty people wear dem dimes round dey ankle en all kind of things on dey body, but never didn' see my mother do nothin like dat. I gwine tell you it just like I got it. Hear talk dat some would wear dem for luck en some tote dem to keep people from hurtin dem. I got a silver dime in de house dere in my trunk right to dis same day dat I used to wear on a string of beads, but I took it off. No, mam, couldn' stand nothin like dat. Den some peoples keeps a bag of asafetida tied round dey neck to keep off sickness. Folks put it on dey chillun to keep dem from havin worms. I never didn' wear none in my life, but I know it been a good thing for people, especially chillun. Let me see, dere a heap of other things dat I learn bout been good for people to wear for sickness. Dere been nutmeg dat some people make a hole in en wear it round dey neck. I forget whether it been good for neuralgia or some of dem other body ailments, but I know it won' for no conjurin."

"Honey, pa always say dat you couldn' expect no more from a child den you puts in dey raisin. Pa say, 'Sylvia, raise up your chillun in de right way en dey'll smile on you in your old age.' Honey, I don' see what dese people gwine expect dey chillun to turn out to be nohow dese days cause dey ain' got no raisin en dey ain' got no manners. I say, I got a feelin for de chillun cause dey parents ain' stay home enough of time to learn dem nothin en dey ain' been know no better. Remember when my parents went off en tell us to stay home, we never didn' darsen to go off de place. Den when dey would send us off, we know we had to be back in de yard fore sunup in de evenin. Yes, child, we all had to be obedient to our parents in dat day en time. I always was sub-obedient myself en I never had no trouble nowhe'. Yes, mam, when we went off anywhe', we ax to go en we been back de hour dey expect to see us. Yes, mam, chillun was more obedient den. None of us didn' sass us parents. Won' raise dat way. I remember when I was young, I used to tote water en make fire to de pot for my mother to wash plenty times. Den dey learn me how to use a hoe en when I was married en left home, won' nothin strange to me."

"No, mam, I didn' have no weddin when I was married, but everything was pleasant en turned out all right. Yes, mam, everybody don' feel so good leavin home, but I felt all right, I was married over dere in Bethel M. E. Church en served a little cake en wine dere home afterwards en dat ain' no weddin. Didn' have nothin but pound cake en wine. Had three plain cakes. Two was cut up dere home en I remember I carried one wid me over Catfish dere to de Reaves place."

Source: Sylvia Durant, ex-slave, age about 72, Marion, S. C. Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Oct., 1937.

THE END