"Marse Robert done his own whippin' of his slaves and, let me tell you, they didn't have to do much for him to whip 'em; he whipped 'em for most anything. They was tied, hand and foots, to a certain tree, and he beat 'em with a heavy leather strop. I'se seed him whip 'em heaps of times, and it was 'most allus in the mornin's 'fore they went to wuk. Thar warn't no jailhouse nigh whar us lived and Marse Robert never had no place to lock slaves up when they got too bad, so he just beat the meanness out of 'em. Thar was one slave he never tetched; that was his foreman and his name was Robert too, lak I done told you.
"I never seed no slaves sold on the block or auctioned off, and if any droves of slaves for sale passed our plantation I'se done forgot about it. No, mam, a slave warn't 'lowed to take no book in his hand to larn nothin'; it was agin' the law to permit slaves to do that sort of thing. If us went to any churches at all it had to be our white folks' churches, 'cause thar warn't no churches for Negroes 'til the war was over. Not a slave on our place could read a word from the Bible, but some few could repeat a verse or two they had cotch from the white folks and them that was smart enough made up a heap of verses that went 'long with the ones larned by heart. Us went to Poplar Springs Baptist church with Marse Robert's fambly; that church was 'bout 3 miles from whar us lived. Miss Betsey, she tuk Grandma Ca'line with her to the Hardshell Baptist church about 10 miles further down the road. Sometimes Grandma Ca'line would go by herself when Marse Robert's ma didn't go. Us just had church once a month.
"When a slave died evvybody on our plantation quit wuk 'til atter the buryin'. The home-made coffins was made of unpainted planks and they was lined with white cloth. White folks' coffins was made the same way, only theirs was stained, but they never tuk time to stain the ones they buried slaves in. Graves was dug wide at the top and at the bottom they was just wide enough to fit the coffin. They laid planks 'crost the coffins and they shovelled in the dirt. They never had larnt to read the songs they sung at funerals and at meetin'. Them songs was handed down from one generation to another and, far as they knowed, never was writ down. A song they sung at the house 'fore they left for the graveyard begun:
'Why do we mourn departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarm.'"
At the grave they sung, Am I Born to Die, To Lay this Body Down?
"Slaves on our plantation never thought about runnin' off to no North. Marse Robert allus treated 'em fair and square, and thar warn't no need for 'em to run nowhar. That foreman of his, Robert Scott, did go off and stay a few days once. Marse Robert had started to whip his wife and he had jumped 'twixt 'em; that made Marse Robert so mad he run to the house to git his gun, so the foreman he got out of the way a day or two to keep from gittin' shot. When he come back, Marse Robert was so glad to git him back he never said a word to him 'bout leavin'.
"On Saddays the women wuked in the field 'til dinnertime, but the menfolks wuked on 'til a hour 'fore sundown. The women spent that time washin', cleanin' up the cabins, patchin', and gittin' ready for the next week. Oh! How they did frolic 'round Sadday night when they could git passes. Sundays they went to church but not without a pass for, if they ever was cotch out without one, them paterollers would beat 'em up something terrible.
"Sho, Christmastime was when slaves had their own fun. Thar warn't nothin' extra or diffunt give 'em, only plenty to eat and drink; Marse Robert allus made lots of whiskey and brandy. He give his slaves six days holiday and 'lowed 'em to have passes. They frolicked, danced, and visited 'round and called it havin' a good time. Wuk begun again on New Year's Day and thar warn't no more holidays 'til the next Christmas. No, mam, not many slave chillun knowed what Santa Claus was or what Christmas was meant to celebrate 'til they got some schoolin' atter the war was over.
"Sho, sho, us had cornshuckin's, all right enough. Sometimes Marse Robert raised so much corn us had to have more than one cornshuckin' to git it all shucked. The neighbors was 'vited and such a time as us did have atter the wuk was done. I was too little to do so much eatin', drinkin', and cuttin' the buck as the older ones done. 'Cuttin' the buck' is what I calls the kind of frolics they had atter they got full of liquor.
"Yes, mam, they had dances all right. That's how they got mixed up with the paterollers. Negroes would go off to dances and stay out all night; it would be wuk time when they got back, and they went to the field and tried to keep right on gwine, but the Good Lord soon cut 'em down. You couldn't talk to folks that tried to git by with things lak that; they warn't gwine to do no diffunt, nohow. When they ain't 'cepted at St. Peter's gate, I'se sho they's gwine to wish they had heeded folks that talked to 'em and tried to holp 'em.