I wus borned five miles north of Raleigh on de Wendell Road, 83 years ago. My mammy wus Nancy an' my pappy wus Louis. I had one sister, Mary, an' one bruder, Louis.
We 'longed ter Mr. Jake Mordecai, an' we lived on his six hundert acres plantation 'bout a mile from Millbrook. Right atter de war he sold dis lan' ter Doctor Miller an' bought de Betsy Hinton tract at Milburnie. Mr. Jake had four or five hundert niggers hyar an' I doan know how many at de Edgecombe County place.
De wuck wus hard den, I knows case I'se seed my little mammy dig ditches wid de best of 'em. I'se seed her split 350 rails a day many's de time. Dat wus her po'tion you knows, an' de mens had ter split 500. I wus too little ter do much but min' de chickens outen de gyarden, an' so I fared better dan most of 'em. You see Miss Tempie 'ud see me out at de gate mornin's as dey wus eatin' breakfas' on de ferander, an' she'ud call me ter her an' give me butter toasted lightbread or biscuits. She'd give me a heap in dat way, an' do de rest of de slaves got hungry, I doan think dat I eber did. I know dat Miss Jenny Perry, on a neighborin' plantation, 'ud give my mammy food, fer us chilluns.
Mo'nin's we sometimes ain't had nothin' ter eat. At dinner time de cook at de big house cooked nuff turnip salet, beans, 'taters, er peas fer all de han's an' long wid a little piece of meat an' a little hunk of co'nbread de dinner wus sont ter de slaves out in de fiel' on a cart.
De slaves 'ud set roun' under de trees an' eat an' laugh an' talk till de oberseer, Bob Gravie, yells at 'em ter git back ter wuck. Iffen dey doan git back right den he starts ter frailin' lef' an' right.
Dar wus a few spirited slaves what won't be whupped an' my uncle wus one. He wus finally sold fer dis.
Hit wus different wid my gran'mother do'. De oberseer tried ter whup her an' he can't, so he hollers fer Mr. Jake. Mr. Jake comes an' he can't, so he hauls off an' kicks granny, mashin' her stomick in. He has her carried ter her cabin an' three days atterward she dies wid nothin' done fer her an' nobody wid her.
Mr. Jake orders de coffinmaker ter make de pine box, an' den he fergits hit. De slaves puts de coffin on de cyart hin' de two black hosses an' wid six or maybe seben hundert niggers follerin' dey goes ter de Simms' graveyard an' buries her. All de way ter de graveyard dey sings, 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot,' 'De Promised Lan', 'De Road ter Jordan,' an' 'Ole Time Religion.'
Hit's a good thing dat none of de white folkses ain't went to de funerals case iffen dey had de niggers can't sing deir hymns. Does you know dat dey warn't no 'ligion 'lowed on dat plantation. Ole lady Betsy Holmes wus whupped time an' ag'in fer talkin' 'ligion er fer singin' hymns. We sometimes had prayermeetin' anyhow in de cabins but we'd turn down de big pot front o' de door ter ketch de noise.
Dey won't gib us no pass hardly, an' iffen we runs 'way de patterollers will git us. Dey did let us have some dances do' now an' den, but not offen. Dey let us go possum huntin' too case dat wus gittin' something ter eat widout Mr. Jake payin' fer hit.