Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves | Page 5

gimme a sack o' flour and
some other bundles what I ain't opened up yit, but I knows dey's got

somepin in 'em to holp me, 'cause dem folks is sho' been mighty good
to me since my rheumatiz is been so bad I couldn't wuk enough to
make a livin'. De doctor, he say I got de blood presser. I don't rightly
know jus' what dat is, but it looks lak somepin's a-pressin' right down in
my haid 'til I feels right foolish, so I reckon he's right 'bout it a-bein de
blood presser. When I gits down on my knees it takes a long time for
me to git straight up on my feet again. De Lord, He's done been wid me
all dese years, and old Cordelia's goin' to keep right on kneelin' 'fore
Him and praisin' Him often 'til He 'cides de time has come for her to go
home to Heben.
"I was borned on Marse Andrew Jackson's plantation down in 'Conee
(Oconee) County, twixt here and High Shoals. Marse Andy, he owned
my Mammy, and she was named Em'ly Jackson. Bob Lowe was my
Daddy, and he b'longed to Marse Ike Lowe. The Lowe plantation was
nigh whar Marse Andy's was, down der in 'Conee County. 'Cause
neither one of deir marsters wouldn't sell one of 'em to de other marster,
Mammy had to stay on de Jackson plantation and Daddy was kept right
on wukin' on de Lowe place atter dey had done got married. Marse Bob,
he give Daddy a ticket what let him go to see Mammy evvy
Wednesday and Sadday night, and dem patterollers couldn't bother him
long as he kept dat ticket. When dey did find a slave off his marster's
plantation widout no ticket, it was jus' too bad, for dat meant a beatin'
what most kilt him. Mammy said dey didn't never git my Daddy, 'cause
he allus had his ticket to show.
"I don't ricollect much 'bout days 'fore de big war ended 'cause I was so
little den, but many's de time I heared Mammy and Daddy and de other
old folks tell 'bout dem times. Us chillun had de bestes' time of
anybody dem days, 'cause dey didn't 'low us to do nothin' but jus' eat all
us could and play de rest of de time. I don't know how it was on other
places, but dat was de way us was raised on our old marster's
plantation.
"De cracks of de log cabins whar de slaves lived was chinked wid red
mud to keep out de cold and rain. Dere warn't no glass in de windows,
dey jus' had plank shutters what dey fastened shut at night. Thin slide

blocks kivvered de peepholes in de rough plank doors. Dey had to have
dem peepholes so as dey could see who was at de door 'fore dey opened
up. Dem old stack chimblies what was made out of sticks and red clay,
was all time gittin' on fire. Dem old home-made beds had high posties
and us called 'em 'teesters.' To take de place of springs, what hadn't
never been seen 'round dar in dem days, dey wove heavy cords
lengthways and crostways. Over dem cords dey laid a flat mat wove out
of white oak splints and on dat dey put de homespun bed ticks stuffed
wid wheat straw. Dey could have right good pillows if dey was a mind
to pick de scrap cotton and fix it up, but dere warn't many of 'em keered
dat much 'bout no pillows.
"Slaves didn't do no cookin' on our place 'cause Marster fed evvybody
up at de big house. Missy, I ain't never gwine to forgit dat big old
fireplace up dar. Dey piled whole sticks of cord wood on it at one time,
wid little sticks crossways under 'em and, let me tell you, dat was a fire
what would cook anything and evvything. De pots hung on swingin'
racks, and dere was big ovens, little ovens, long-handled fryin' pans,
and heavy iron skillets wid tight, thick lids. It sho' was a sight de way
us chillun used to make 'way wid dem ash-roasted 'taters and dat good,
fresh butter. Us chillun had to eat supper early 'cause all chillun had to
be in bed 'fore dark. It warn't lak dese days. Why Missy, chilluns now
stays up 'most all night runnin' 'round dese parts.
"Marster was sho' good 'bout seein' dat his Niggers had plenty to eat
and wear. For supper us et our bread and milk wid wooden spoons out
of wooden bowls, but for dinner dey give us veg'ables, corn pone, and
'taters. Marster raised all de sorts of veg'ables what dey knowed
anything 'bout in dem days, and he had big