"Once during de war de soldiers was around me very thick. I was coming back from carryin' de dinner out in de woods to Sam Hildebrand. I took him a table cloth, napkins and everything first class. I went down to de house and hid de basket in a hollow log and crossed de creek and dey hollered, 'Halt!' De soldiers was cussin' me like a bay steer. Dey said, 'I'll kill you right here and blow your brains out if you don't tell.' I told dem I had been up dere to water de calves so dey give me my pass and let me go on to de house. I would not tell dem nothin' 'bout Sam Hildebrand nor where he was hiding. While Sam et his meal I would stand 'round and watch in de woods. I was de oldest one on de place and I was de only one what had to carry his meals to him.
"I would get up many mornings and hear the bugler blowin'. Das when dey was callin' the pickets in. You would see de pickets come in just a-flyin' and out sent de fresh pickets on duty. I was not scared of dem. Sometimes de soldiers stayed 'round our place for two weeks and camped. Dey was about 500 and de men laid out on de ground under a government wagon and in some houses around about. Dese soldiers would go out with sabers and whack de heads off of de sheep, hogs, and calves and in about five minutes would have dat yearlin' skinned and dash it into de boilin' kettle. Den dey would take a long knife and cut off a big piece of meat with the blood runnin' out. Dey did not cook de meat done and did not put much salt on it. It sure was funny, seein' dem soldiers eatin' a big hunk of meat with de blood runnin' out. Dey always had bread but don't know where dey got it. They was so tired and wore out and their feet was sore and de infantry was almost barefooted. Dey was always dressed in blue. Sometimes we would have 30 or 40 yards of goods on de loom and dey would tear it off and send it home to their family. We was glad enough to get dem to take dis and get out. There would not be a man on de place when these 500 soldiers come. We always managed to bury dat gentleman (money). I can remember the boss took out of his chest his money, enough to fill the table, and put it in a buck skin bag and he went off with another man. I don't know what become of de money and dey was killed and there was no one left to tell de tale.
"I sure had it rough and tumble since de war. Of course I don't have a boss now. I've worked on de farm, as a dining room girl, washin', ironing, and hiring out. I would get about $9 to $10 a week. I was workin' for de railroad people den when de road was runnin' strong here. My husband he died 40 years ago and he done left me with about 15 cents, and the mortgage on dis house was about $130. I had a wagon worth about $40 and old Dr. Newberry took dat for his bill. Den I would do two or three washings before I come home and would come by de undertaker's and leave him some money on de funeral. My daughter is a grass widow and she lives here. Her ex-husband shines shoes down town, but he don't help us none. My daughter has got three children.
"I don't go to church lately. It's embarrassing to go in this hot weather. I know where I want dem to bury me. All the old folks buried out at de old colored cemetery.
"I goes down here to de store and if I can't get de money dey waits till I can, I can get it on a credit. Dey think Aunt Rhody is one of the leadin' persons of de town. Of course I don't run all over town but go to one store. Dey have got used to me and dey know it sometimes takes an hour for me to make up my mind what I want to buy. When I go to de store they kid me and say: 'Why, Aunt Rhody, ain't you dead yet? You is goin' to outlive us all.'
"Slavery learnt me how to work and I wasn't feared of no kind of work. Most of de people around here don't know nothin' 'bout work. A little slavery would do dis young age some good and dey is goin' to get it. Dis young generation is slaughtering our people up, down in de south. Our people don't know what freedom is down there. Better not go down there and talk about freedom. My brother went down there in the south and got back so far from de river dat he never got out. I guess de exposure and the beatin' killed him. Lots of places dey votes down there, but de votes is thrown in de waste basket and dey don't count. These people can't beat up us people and jump up on a bed and close their eyes and die and expect to go to heaven.
"I ain't never heard de Bible read till I was free in Fredericktown. When we was slaves we did not have much time to get out and sin much. Dis generation is goin' to destruction. It's all on account of not minding their parents. Dey is just hard-headed. It's caused by de way de old folks acted and is bein' put on dis present generation. I tell 'em, you don't think dat you can walk these streets and fall dead and never said nothin' to God to move this gulf of sin and den expect to go to Heaven. I'm tryin' to serve God and fightin' all de time against de devil to keep him from knockin' me over. I'm not a person to go on with a lot of nonsense. I talk to de young people all de time around de stores and tell 'em dey is got to get up from there to make it across de river. Dey all talk about me preachin' a sermon around de stores. But de devil's already got de 'bill of sale' on dem. I'm talkin' to de Lord all de time cause my stay is going to be mighty short now."
"Aunt Rhody" Holsell,
Fredericktown, Missouri.
Interviewed by J. Tom Miles.
"I've lived in Fredericktown ever since de war and only two or three times I've been out of hollering distance of town. I was seventeen years old when de war was over. My boss was Thos. McGee in Wayne County. My mother and father were slaves. My great-grandmother was a Indian squaw. My mother was dead four years 'fore de war and my father was dead three years.
"I sure can 'member 'bout de war. De funniest thing was some soldiers camped at our house. Man, I would pull weeds in de cotton patch, and when I got a little older I was a-carding and spinning and dat wheel was a-singing. I spun all de chain all through de Civil War and I spun all de warp. De boss treated us very good. De boss would know every row of corn we would hoe; sometimes we would break de corn off and den we got a whipping with a weed.