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

More documents

Recommendations

Info

Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery by Various 74Marse Jim was a cavalry. He rode a big hoss, an' my Uncle Dave went wid him to de fiel' as his body guard.He had a hoss too so if Marse Jim's hoss got shot dare would be another one for him to ride. Mis' Polly hadanother son but he was too drunk to hold a gun. He stayed drunk.De first cannon I heard skeered me near 'bout to death. We could hear dem goin' boom, boom. I thought it wasthunder, den Mis Polly say, 'Lissen, Sarah, hear dem cannons? Dey's killin' our mens.' Den she 'gun to cry.I run in de kitchen whare Aunt Charity was cookin an' tole her Mis' Polly was cryin. She said: 'She ain't cryin'kaze de Yankees killin' de mens; she's doin' all dat cryin' kaze she skeered we's goin' to be sot free.' Den I gotmad an' tole her Mis' Polly wuzn' like dat.I 'members when Wheelers Cavalry come through. Dey was 'Federates but dey was mean as de Yankees. Deystold everything dey could find an' killed a pile of niggers. Dey come 'roun' checkin'. Dey ax de niggahs if deywanted to be free. If dey say yes, den dey shot dem down, but if dey say no, dey let dem alone. Dey took threeof my uncles out in de woods an' shot dey faces off.I 'members de first time de Yankees come. Dey come gallupin' down de road, jumpin' over de palin's,tromplin' down de rose bushes an' messin' up de flower beds. Dey stomped all over de house, in de kitchen,pantries, smoke house, an' everywhare, but dey didn' find much, kaze near 'bout everything done been hid. Iwas settin' on de steps when a big Yankee come up. He had on a cap an' his eyes was mean.'Whare did dey hide do gol' an silver, Nigger?' he yelled at me.I was skeered an my hands was ashy, but I tole him I didn' nothin' 'bout nothin; dat if anybody done hid thingsdey hid it while I was sleep.'Go ax dat ole white headed devil,' he said to me.I got mad den kaze he was tawkin' 'bout Mis' Polly, so I didn' say nothin'. I jus' set. Den he pushed me off destep an' say if I didn' dance he gwine shoot my toes off. Skeered as I was, I sho done some shufflin'. Den hegive me five dollers an' tole me to go buy jim cracks, but dat piece of paper won't no good. 'Twuzn nothin' buta shin plaster like all dat war money, you couldn' spend it.Dat Yankee kept callin' Mis' Polly a white headed devil an' said she done ramshacked 'til dey wuzn' nothin'left, but he made his mens tote off meat, flour, pigs, an' chickens. After dat Mis' Polly got mighty stingy widde vittles an' de didn' have no more ham.When de war was over de Yankees was all 'roun' de place tellin' de niggers what to do. Dey tole dem dey wasfree, dat dey didn' have to slave for de white folks no more. My folks all left Marse Cain an' went to live inhouses dat de Yankees built. Dey wuz like poor white folks houses, little shacks made out of sticks an' mudwid stick an' mud chimneys. Dey wuzn' like Marse Cain's cabins, planked up an' warm, dey was full of cracks,an' dey wuzn' no lamps an' oil. All de light come from de lightwood knots burnin' in de fireplace.One day my mammy come to de big house after me. I didn' want to go, I wanted to stay wid Mis' Polly. I 'gunto cry an' Mammy caught hold of me. I grabbed Mis' Polly an' held so tight dat I tore her skirt bindin' loose an'her skirt fell down 'bout her feets.'Let her stay wid me,' Mis' Polly said to Mammy.But Mammy shook her head. 'You took her away from me an' didn' pay no mind to my cryin', so now I'setakin' her back home. We's free now, Mis' Polly, we ain't gwine be slaves no more to nobody.' She draggedme away. I can see how Mis' Polly looked now. She didn' say nothin' but she looked hard at Mammy an' her
Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery by Various 75face was white.Mammy took me to de stick an' mud house de Yankees done give her. It was smoky an' dark kaze dey wuzn'no windows. We didn' have no sheets an' no towels, so when I cried an' said I didn' want to live on no Yankeehouse, Mammy beat me an' made me go to bed. I laid on de straw tick lookin' up through de cracks in de roof.I could see de stars, an' de sky shinin' through de cracks looked like long blue splinters stretched 'cross derafters. I lay dare an' cried kaze I wanted to go back to Mis' Polly.I was never hungry til we waz free an' de Yankees fed us. We didn' have nothin to eat 'cept hard tack an'middlin' meat. I never saw such meat. It was thin an' tough wid a thick skin. You could boil it allday an' allnight an' it wouldn' cook dome, I wouldn' eat it. I thought 'twuz mule meat; mules dat done been shot on debattle field den dried. I still believe 'twuz mule meat.One day me an' my brother was lookin' for acorns in de woods. We foun' sumpin' like a grave in de woods. Itole Dave dey wuz sumpin' buried in dat moun'. We got de grubbin hoe an' dug. Dey wuz a box wid elevenhams in dat grave. Somebody done hid it from de Yankees an' forgot whare dey buried it. We covered it backup kaze if we took it home in de day time de Yankees an' niggers would take it away from us. So when nightcome we slipped out an' toted dem hams to de house an' hid dem in de loft.Dem was bad days. I'd rather been a slave den to been hired out like I was, kaze I wuzn' no fiel' hand, I was ahand maid, trained to wait on de ladies. Den too, I was hungry most of de time an' had to keep fightin' off demYankee mens. Dem Yankees was mean folks.We's come a long way since dem times. I'se lived near 'bout ninety years an' I'se seen an' heard much. Myfolks don't want me to talk 'bout slavery, day's shame niggers ever was slaves. But, while for most coloredfolks freedom is de bes, dey's still some niggers dat out to be slaves now. Dese niggers dat's done clean forgotde Lawd; dose dat's always cuttin' an' fightin' an' gwine in white folks houses at night, dey ought to be slaves.Dey ought to have an' Ole Marse wid a whip to make dem come when he say come, an' go when he say go, 'tildey learn to live right.I looks back now an' thinks. I ain't never forgot dem slavery days, an' I ain't never forgot Mis' Polly an' mywhite starched aprons.N. C. District: No. 2 [320147] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 805 Subject: CHARLES W. DICKENSStory Teller: Charles W. Dickens Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt[HW note: 26][TR: Date Stamp "JUN 11 1937"]CHARLES W. DICKENS 1115 East Lenoir StreetMy name is Charles W. Dickens. I lives at 1115 East Lenoir Street, Raleigh, North Carolina, Wake County. Iwuz born August 16, 1861, de year de war started. My mother wuz named Ferebee Dickens. My father wuznamed John Dickens. I had nine sisters and brothers. My brothers were named Allen, Douglas, my name[HW: question mark above "my name"], Jake, Johnnie and Jonas. The girls Katie, Matilda Francis, and EmilyDickens.My grandmother wuz named Charity Dickens. My grandfather wuz Dudley T. Dickens. I do not know wheredey came from. No, I don't think I do. My mother belonged to Washington Scarborough, and so did wechilluns. My father he belonged to Obediah Dickens and missus wuz named Silvia Dickens. Dey lowedmother to go by the name of my father after dey wuz married.
Page 1 and 2:
Slave Narratives: a Folk History of
Page 3 and 4:
Page 5 and 6:
Page 7 and 8:
Page 9 and 10:
Page 11 and 12:
Page 13 and 14:
Page 15 and 16:
Page 17 and 18:
Page 19 and 20:
Page 21 and 22:
Page 23 and 24: Slave Narratives: a Folk History of
Page 73: Slave Narratives: a Folk History of
Page 125 and 126:
Page 127 and 128:
Page 129 and 130:
Page 131 and 132:
Page 133 and 134:
Page 135 and 136:
Page 137 and 138:
show all

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

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?