Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States

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Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery by Various 68dyah by de Presbyterian graveyard whah now is de Gyartuh factry. An' Jane Richardson wuz de leader.Yess'm I got so no count, I had to cum live with mah son, Frank Dalton. Frank married Mattie Cardwell. Youremembuh Mary Mann? She married Anderson Cardwell. Day's bofe dade long time. Days berried jess uphyuh at Mayodan whah Mr. Bollin's house is on and dem new bungyloes is on top um, too. Uh whole lots uhcullud people berried in dah with de slaves of Ole Miss Nancy (Watkins) Webster on till de Mayo Mills gotstarted and day built Mayhodan at de Mayo Falls. An' dat's whah my daughter-in-law's folks is berried.My leben chillun--Frank, one died in West Virginia; Cora married Henry Cardwell; Hattie married RoyCurrent and bafe ob dem in Winston; Della married Arthur Adkins, an' Joe, an' George an' Perry an' NathanielDalton, an'.Yes'm mah daughter-in-law has de writings about de brick chuch, dem whut started hit, an' she'll put it outwhah she can git hit fuh you easy, when you coun back fuh hit.Nome, up at Marse Lee Dalton's fob de s'renduh us slaves didn't nevuh go tuh chuch. But young Miss'ud readde Bible to us sometimes.Here in the five room, white painted cottage of his son, Frank, Unka Challilie is kindly cared for by hisdaughter-in-law, Mattie. A front porch faces the Mayodan hard road a few doors from the "coppubration line."A well made arch accents the entrance to the front walk. A climbing rose flourishes on the arch. Well keptgrass with flowers on the edges show Mattie's love. At the right side is the vegetable garden, invaded byseveral big domineckuh chickens. A kudzu vine keeps out the hot west sun. Unka Challilie sits on the frontporch and nods to his friends [HW: , or] else back in the kitchen, he sits and watches Mattie iron after he haseaten his breakfast. Several hens come on the back porch and lay in boxes there. One is "uh settin" fuh friedchicken later! A walnut tree, "uh white wawnut", waves its long dangly green blooms as the leaves are halfgrown in the early May. Well dressed, clean, polite, comforted with his religion, but very "trimbly" even onhis stout walking stick, Unka Challilie often dozes away his "no countness" with "uh napuh sleepin" while themad rush of traffic and tourist wheels stir the rose climbing over the entrance arch. An ex-slave who startedwiff nuffin de Yankees gave him, who lived on his old Marse's place ontil he wuz forty-eight, who cleaned theMayo Mills ontill he wuz too trimbly to get amongst de machinery, who raised eleven children on an acre ofred Rockingham county hillside, faces the next move with plenty to eat, wear, plenty time to take a nap uhsleepin.N. C. District: No. 2 [320281] Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 386 Subject: JOHN DANIELS StoryTeller: John Daniels Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt[TR: No Date Stamp]JOHN DANIELS Ex-Slave Story [HW: (?)]I'se named fer my pappy's ole massa down in Spartanburg, South Carolina, course I doan know nothin' 'boutno war, case I warn't borned. I does 'member seein' de ole 'big house' do', maybe you want me ter tell you howhit looked?It wuz a big white two-story house at de end uv a magnolia lane an' a-settin' in a big level fiel'. Back o' de bighouse wuz de ole slave cabins whar my folks uster live.Dey said dat de massa wuz good ter 'em, but dat sometimes in de mo'nin' dey jist has lasses an' co'nbread ferbreakfas'.I started ter tell you 'bout de Joe Moe do'.
Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery by Various 69You mebbe doan know hit, but de prisoners hyar doan git de blues so bad if de company comes on visitin'days, an' de mail comes reg'lar. We's always gittin' up somepin' ter have a little fun, so somebody gits up deJoe Moe.Yo' sees dat when a new nigger comes in he am skeerd an' has got de blues. Somebody goes ter cheer him upan' dey axes him hadn't he ruther be hyar dan daid. Yo' see he am moughty blue den, so mebbe he says dathe'd ruther be daid; den dis feller what am tryin' ter cheer him tells him dat all right he sho' will die dat [HWcorrection: 'cause] he's got de Joe Moe put on him.Seberal days atter dis de new nigger fin's a little rag full of somepin twix de bed an' mattress an' he axes whathit am. Somebody tells him dat hit am de Joe Moe, an' dey tells him dat de only way he can git de spell off amter git de bag off on somebody else. Ever'body but him knows' bout hit so de Joe Moe keeps comin' back till anew one comes in an' he l'arns de joke.Talkin' 'bout ghostes I wants ter tell you dat de air am full of 'em. Dar's a strip from de groun' 'bout four feethigh which am light on de darkes' night, case hit can't git dark down dar. Git down an' crawl an' yo'll see amillion laigs of eber' kin' an' if'en you lis'ens you'll hyar a little groanin' an' den you has gone through a warmspot.B. N.N. C. District: No. 2 [320186] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 725 Subject: HARRIET ANN DAVESStory Teller: Harriet Ann Daves Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt[TR: No Date Stamp]HARRIET ANN DAVES 601 E. Cabarrus StreetMy full name is Harriet Ann Daves, I like to be called Harriet Ann. If my mother called me when she wasliving, I didn't want to answer her unless she called me Harriet Ann. I was born June 6, 1856. Milton Waddell,my mother's marster was my father, and he never denied me to anybody.My mother was a slave but she was white. I do not know who my mother's father was. My mother was MaryCollins. She said that her father was an Indian. My mother's mother was Mary Jane Collins, and she waswhite--maybe part Indian. My grandfather was old man William D. Waddell, a white man. I was born inVirginia near Orange Courthouse. The Waddells moved to Lexington, Missouri, after I was born. I guesssome of the family would not like it if they knew I was telling this. We had good food and a nice place to live.I was nothing but a child, but I know, and remember that I was treated kindly. I remember the surrender verywell. When the surrender came my grandfather came to mother and told her: 'Well, you are as free as I am.'That was William D. Waddell. He was one of the big shots among the white folks.My white grandmother wanted mother to give me to her entirely. She said she had more right to me than myIndian grandmother that she had plenty to educate and care for me. My mother would not give me to her, andshe cried. My mother gave me to my Indian grandmother. I later went back to my mother.While we were in Missouri some of my father's people, a white girl, sent for me to come up to the great house.I had long curls and was considered pretty. The girl remarked, 'Such a pretty child' and kissed me. Sheafterwards made a remark to which my father who was there, my white father, took exception telling her I washis child and that I was as good as she was. I remember this incident very distinctly.My mother had two children by the same white man, my father. The other was a girl. She died in California.My father never married. He loved my mother, and he said if he could not marry Mary he did not want to
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Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States

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