"I say, 'Miss, I et it 'cause I's so hungry.' Den she grab dat broom and start to beatin' me over de head wid it and callin' me low down nigger and I guess I jes' clean lost my head 'cause I know'd better den to fight her if I knowed anything 'tall, but I start to fight her and de driver, he comes in and he grabs me and starts beatin' me wid dat cat-o'-nine-tails,[1] and he beats me 'til I fall to de floor nearly dead. He cut my back all to pieces, den dey rubs salt in de cuts for mo' punishment. Lawd, Lawd, honey! Dem was awful days. When ole marster come to de house he say, 'What you beat dat nigger like dat for?' And de driver tells him why, and he say, 'She can't work now for a week, she pay for several biscuits in dat time.' He sho' was mad and he tell ole miss she start de whole mess. I still got dem scars on my ole back right now, jes' like my grandmother have when she die and I's a-carryin' mine right on to de grave jes' like she did.
| [1] | A big leather whip, branching into nine tails. |
"Our marster, he wouldn' 'low us to go fishing, he say dat too easy on a nigger and wouldn' 'low us to hunt none either, but some time we slips off at night and ketch 'possums and when ole marster smells dem 'possums cookin' way in de night he wraps up in a white sheet and gits in de chimney corner and scratch on de wall and when de man in de cabin goes to de door and say, 'Who's dat?' He say, 'It's me, what's ye cookin' in dere?' and de man say, 'I's cookin' 'possum.' He say, 'Cook him and bring me de hind quarters and you and de wife and de chillun eat de rest.' We nev'r had no chance ter git any rabbits 'cept when we was a-clearin' and grubbin' de new grounds, den we ketch some rabbits and if dey looks good to de white folks dey takes dem and if dey no good de niggers git dem. We nev'r had no gardens. Some times de slaves git vegetables from de white folks' garden and sometimes dey didn'.
"Money? Umph um! We nev'r seen no money. Guess we'd a bought sumpin' to eat wid it if we ev'r seen any. Fact is, we wouldn' a knowed hardly how to bought anything, 'cause we didn' know nothin' 'bout goin' to town.
"Dey spinned de cloth what our clothes was made of and we had straight dresses or slips made of lowel. Sometimes dey dye 'em wid sumac berries or sweet gum bark and sometimes dey didn'. On Sunday dey make all de chillun change, and what we wears 'til we gits our clothes washed was gunny sacks wid holes cut for our head and arms. We didn' have no shoes 'ceptin' some home made moccasins and we didn' have dem 'til we was big chillun. De little chillun dey goes naked 'til dey was big enough to work. Dey was soon big enough though, 'cordin' to our marster. We had red flannel for winter under clothes. Ole miss she say a sick nigger cost more den de flannel.
"Weddin's? Ugh um! We jes' steps over de broom and we's married. Ha! Ha! Ha!
"Ole marster he had a good house. De logs was all hewed off smooth like and de cracks all fixed wid nice chinkin', plum 'spectable lookin' even to de plank floors, dat was sumpin'. He didn' have no big plantation but he keeps 'bout 300 slaves in dem little huts wid dirt floors. I thinks he calls it four farms what he had.
"Sometimes he would sell some of de slaves off of dat big auction block to de highest bidder when he could git enough fer one.
"When he go to sell a slave he feed dat one good for a few days, den when he goes to put 'em up on de auction block he takes a meat skin and greases all 'round dat nigger's mouth and makes 'em look like dey been eatin' plenty meat and sich like and was good and strong and able to work. Sometimes he sell de babes from de breas' and den again he sell de mothers from de babes and de husbands and de wives, and so on. He wouldn' let 'em holler much when de folks be sold away. He say, 'I have you whooped if you don't hush.' Dey sho' loved dere six chillun though. Dey wouldn' want no body buyin' dem.
"We might a done very well if de ole driver hadn' been so mean, but de least little thing we do he beat us for it, and put big chains 'round our ankles and make us work wid dem on 'til de blood be cut out all around our ankles. Some of de marsters have what dey call stockades and puts dere heads and feet and arms through holes in a big board out in de hot sun, but our old driver he had a bull pen, dats only thing like a jail he had. When a slave do anything he didn' like he takes 'em in dat bull pen and chains 'em down, face up to de sun and leaves 'em dere 'til dey nearly dies.