Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves | Page 6

old fields of wheat, rye, oats,
and corn, 'cause he 'lowed dat stock had to eat same as folkses. Dere
was lots of chickens, turkeys, cows, hogs, sheep, and some goats on dat
plantation so as dere would allus be plenty of meat for evvybody.
"Our Marster evermore did raise de cotton--lots of it to sell, and plenty
for clothes for all de folkses, white and black, what lived on his place.
All de cloth was home-made 'cept de calico for de best Sunday dresses.
Chillun had to spin de thread and deir mammies wove de cloth. 'Fore de

end of de war, whilst I was still so little I had to stand on a box to reach
de spinnin' wheel good, I could spin six reels a day.
"Chillun was happy when hog-killin' time come. Us warn't 'lowed to
help none, 'cept to fetch in de wood to keep de pot bilin' whar de lard
was cookin'. Our Mist'ess allus had de lard rendered in de bigges'
washpot, what dey sot on rocks in de fireplace. Us didn't mind gittin' de
wood for dat, 'cause when dem cracklin's got done, dey let us have all
us could eat and, jus' let me tell you, Missy, you ain't never had nothin'
good 'less you has et a warm skin cracklin' wid a little salt. One time
when dey was renderin' lard, all us chillun was crowdin' 'round close as
us could git to see which one could git a cracklin' fust. Mist'ess told us
to stand back 'fore somebody got burnt; den Mammy said she was
gwine to take de hides off our backs 'bout gittin' so close to dat fire, and
'bout dat time somebody 'hind me gimme a quick push; and in de fire I
went. Marster grabbed me 'most time I hit dem red coals, but one hand
and arm was burnt so bad I had to wear it in a sling for a long time.
Den Marster laid down de law and told us what he would do if he cotch
us chillun hangin' 'round de fire whar dey was cookin' lard again.
"Folkses said our Marster must have a powerful sweet tooth on account
of he kept so many bee hives. When bees swarmed folkses rung bells
and beat on tin pans to git 'em settled. Veils was tied over deir haids to
keep de bees from gittin' to deir faces when dey went to rob de hives.
Chillun warn't never 'lowed to be nowhar nigh durin' dat job. One day I
sneaked out and got up close to see how dey done it, and dem bees got
all over me. Dey stung me so bad I couldn't see for days and days.
Marster, he jus' fussed and said dat gal, Cordelia, she was allus whar
she didn't b'long. Missy, I ain't never wanted to fool wid no more bees,
and I don't even lak honey no more.
"Slaves all went to church wid deir white folkses 'cause dere warn't no
Nigger churches dem days. All de preachin' was done by white
preachers. Churches warn't nigh and convenient dem days lak dey is
now and dey was such a fur piece from de plantations dat most of de
folkses stayed all day, and dem meetin' days was big days den. De
cooks was told to fix de bestes' dinners dey could git up, and chillun

was made to know dey had better mind what dey was 'bout when dey
was in de meetin' house or it was gwine to be made mighty hot for 'em
when dey got back home. Dat was one thing our Marster didn't 'low no
foolin' 'bout. His Niggers had to be-have deyselfs at de meetin' house.
'Long 'bout August when craps was laid by, dey had brush arbor
meetin's. White folks brought deir slaves and all of 'em listened to a
white preacher from Watkinsville named Mr. Calvin Johnson. Dere was
lots of prayin' and shoutin' at dem old brush arbor 'vival meetin's.
"Dey had campmeetin's too. De old Freeman place was whar dey had
some of dem fust campmeetin's, and Hillsboro, Mars Hill, and
Bethabara was some of de other places whar Marster tuk us to
campmeetin's. Missy, you jus' don't know nothin' 'bout 'citement if you
ain't never been to one of dem old-time campmeetin's. When folkses
would git 'ligion dey would holler and shout a-testifyin' for de Lord.
Atter de meetin' dey dammed up de crick and let it git deep enough for
de baptizin'. Dey dipped de white folkses fust, and den de Niggers. You
could hear 'em singin' a mile away dem old songs lak: On Jordan's
Stormy Banks I Stand,--Roll, Jordan Roll,--All God's Chilluns is a-goin'
Home, and--Whar de Livin' Waters Flow. I jus' can't 'member