Cornelia's husband was a Methodist preacher, and she lived with him to celebrate their Golden Wedding. During the last years of his life they lived in Augusta. For sixteen years she washed all the blankets for the Fire Department, and did some of the washing for the firemen. Cornelia is now 82 years of age, but her memory is good and her mind active; and she is extremely loquacious. She is quite heavy, and crippled, having to use a crutch when she walks. Her room was clean, but over-crowded with furniture, every piece of which has recently been painted. Of the wardrobe in her room Cornelia told the following story. "All the planks eny of our family was laid out on, my father kep'. When he came to Augusta he brought all these planks and made this here wardrobe. When the fire burnt me out, this here wardrobe was the only thing in my house that was saved."

During the past summer she put up quantities of preserves, pickles and canned fruits. These she sells in a little shop-room adjoining her house, and when the weather permits, on the steps of the Post Office.

Cornelia can read, and spends much of time reading the Bible but she learned to read after "Freedom." She is greatly interested to tell of the "best families" she has worked for and the gifts she has received from them.

[HW: Dist. 5
Ex-Slave #117]
E. Driskell
Whitley
1-20-37
GEORGE WOMBLE
EX-SLAVE
[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]

One of the relics of Slavery is George Womble. From all appearances Mr. Womble looks to be fifty-three years of age instead of the ripe old age of ninety-three that he claims. He is about five and one-half or six feet in height, weighs one-hundred and seventy-five pounds or more, and has good sight and hearing in addition to a skin that is almost devoid of any wrinkle. Besides all of this he is a clear thinker and has a good sense of humor. Following is an account of the experiences of Mr. Womble as a slave and of the conditions in general on the plantations where he lived:

"I was born in the year of 1843 near the present site of what is now known as Clinton, Georgia. The names of my parents were Patsy and Raleigh Ridley. I never saw my father as he was sold before I was old enough to recognize him as being my father. I was still quite young when my mother was sold to a plantation owner who lived in New Orleans, La. As she was being put on the wagon to be taken away I heard her say: "Let me see my poor child one more time because I know I'll never see him again". That was the last I ever saw or heard of her. As I had no brothers or sisters or any other relatives to care for me my master, who was Mr. Robert Ridley, had me placed in his house where I was taught to wait tables and to do all kinds of house work. Mr. Ridley had a very large plantation and he raised cotton, corn, oats, wheat, peas, and live stock. Horses and mules were his specialty—I remember that he had one little boy whose job was to break these animals so that they could be easily sold. My job was to wait tables, help with the house cleaning, and to act as nurse maid to three young children belonging to the master. At other times I drove the cows to and from the pasture and I often helped with the planting in the fields when the field hands were rushed. Out of the forty-odd slaves that were held by the Ridleys all worked in the field with the exception of myself and the cook whose name was Harriet Ridley." Continuing, Mr. Womble says: "I believe that Mr. Ridley was one of the meanest men that ever lived. Sometimes he whipped us, especially us boys, just to give himself a little fun. He would tie us in such a way as to cause our bodies to form an angle and then he preceeded to use the whip. When he had finished he would ask: "Who do you belong to?" and we had to answer; "Marse Robert". At other times he would throw us in a large tank that held about two-thousand gallons of water. He then stood back and laughed while we struggled to keep from drowning."

"When Marse Robert died I was still a small boy. Several months after his death Mrs. Ridley gave the plantation up and took her share of the slaves (ten in number) of which I was one, and moved to Tolbert County, Georgia near the present location of Talbottom, Georgia. The other slaves and the plantation were turned over to Marse Robert's relatives. After a few months stay in this place I was sold to Mrs. Ridley's brother, Enoch Womble. On the day that I was sold three doctors examined me and I heard one of them say: "This is a thoroughbred boy. His teeth are good and he has good muscles and eyes. He'll live a long time." Then Mr. Womble said: "He looks intelligent too. I think I'll take him and make a blacksmith out of him." And so to close the deal he paid his sister five-hundred dollars for me."