Interview with Fil Hancock,
Rolla, Missouri.
"Uncle" Fil Hancock
The following interview, bristling with facts and vivid recollections covering more than three quarters of a century was obtained recently by a worker employed by the Federal Writers' Project in Missouri from "Uncle" Fil Hancock, eighty-six year old Negro, living at Rolla, Missouri. The old man's story, told as nearly as possible in his own dialect runs thus:
"I was born 1851, de 28th day of February. My granny come here with her missus-Hancock—when dey brung de Cherokee Indian tribe here from middlin' Tennessee, de time dey moved de Missouri Indians back to Oklahoma, what dey called Indian Territory way back 'bout 135 or 140 years ago. Our old missus maiden name was Riggs. My old master was Scotch-Irish. A big, red faced man wid sandy hair, mostly baldheaded. Us little niggers was scairt of him and run and hid when we see him coming. He weren't 'lowed to whip us, 'cause he didn't own us. Our old missus had eleven of us and he had twenty-one niggers of his own. And our old missus wouldn't let him tech us.
"We had to mind him though. But she done de whipping. My own mammy whipped us good and proper—She used a razor strop, and shore poured it on us. She was puny and sick most all de time. Dey said she had consumption, now-days dey calls it T.B. But it was plain old consumption in dem days. I 'member, she were so sick dat she were not able to hold us an' whip us, and she made one of us little niggers push de other one up to her bed while she whipped us. We took our turns in gittin' a whipping. Poor old mammy, she loved us and wanted us to do right. We never got a whipping 'ceptin' we needed it. Old granny, my mammy's mother and old missus whipped us a little, an only wid buckbresh, jes' a little 'roun' de ankles. All us little niggers was jes' like stairsteps, one after de other. I got whipped plenty, but I needed it.
"My ol' missus Hancock named me herself—called me Filmore Taylor Hancock, after two presidents who took der seats in 1850. Ol' Colonel Hancock was our master an' he was de richest man in Greene County, Missouri, and owned more slaves than any man in Missouri. His wife, old missus was born in 1804. My own granny on my mammy's side was born in 1805. My granny was given to missus, as her own de day she was born. 'Course old missus was only a year old den. Der was thirty-two of us slaves on our old missus place, and eleven of us sprung from old granny.
"We had five young missus. My young missus names were Winnie, Elizabeth, Lucinda, Luella, and Tennessee. Dey was so rich and proud, dey wouldn't look at any body to marry. Only two of 'em ever married. Dey was fine ladies, but dey shore had me plumb spilt. Some of dem whipped me three or four times, but I 'member how dey jes' breshed me a little roun' de legs, and turn away and laugh a little. I can see now I needed more'n I got. If I told a lie I got whipped for it, and old missus poured it on if we lied.
"I and de other two gals, my sisters and a brudder of mine—well, when our mammy died, old missus took us down to her house, away from our cabin, so she could look after us. Our old granny was de white folk's cook. She helped look after us. We got to eat what de white folk did. Up to de cabins where de other niggers was, had salt meat, cabbage, 'taters, and shortnin' bread three times a day. We all had plenty vegetables we raised ourselves. Every Sunday mornin' our missus sent us up a big tray 'bout three feet long, made of sycamore—and it full of flour. Once a week we had hot biscuits. But me and Squire, my brudder and my sisses, Mary and Margot had it a little better, we had what our old missus had. I was ten years an' six months old when de war come up.
"In '61, I see General Lyons, when he passed right by our house. All de Union sojers had to pass by our house time of de war. We lived on the main wagon road from Rolla to Springfield. Well child, Lordy me! dat's funny for me to tell you how General Lyon look. It was a sight to see him with them 'purties'! And we asked old missus what dat was, them 'purties' he had on his shoulders. She says to us chillun: 'He is de general. All dem odder men got to mind him'. He was killed in dat battle of Wilson Creek. Dey kept him in an icehouse in a spring, owned by a man named Phelps. He lived west of Springfield. Dey keep General Lyon two weeks, 'fore they brung him down dis-a-way. Dey shipped him out of Rolla to Connecticut—dat's what I hear de ol folks says. Dat man Phelps was our neighbor and later he got to be governor of Missouri in 1876. Crittenden was first de Democratic governor in '73.
"Old missus called us little darkies all up—and carried us down to de wagon General Lyon's body was in, when dey was bringin' him back here. And we looked at him and asked what was de matter. Old missus said 'He was killed.' He was packed in ice in de wagon and de wagon had four mules hitched to it. I wanted to know if he was de man who had dem 'purties' on his shoulders. She said 'Yes'.
"I said, 'Did marse Bill and marse George and marse Jeff Hancock hep kill him?' She said: 'Yes'. Marse Bill, marse George an' marse Jeff was my young bosses, my old master's sons. Old missus didn't seem glad or anything, jes' looked kinda sad. We asked her would he ever fight again. She said, 'No'. I won't ever forget how General Lyon looked. He rode a kinda gray-white horse when I first see him and looked so tall and proud like.