Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States | Page 4

put out the fires as our clothing would blaze up under the
flying brands that fell upon our bodies."
"The burning boat was docked at Hickman. The passengers were put
ashore but none of the freight was saved, and from a nearby willow
thicket my matey and I watched the Gold Dust burn to the water's

edge."
"Always heed the warnings of nature," said Uncle George, "If you see
rats leaving a ship or a house prepare for a fire."
George W. Arnold said that Evansville was quite a nice place and a
steamboat port even in the early days of his boating experiences and he
decided to make his home here. He located in the town in 1880. "The
Court House was located at Third and Main streets. Street cars were
mule drawn and people thought it great fun to ride them." He recalls the
first shovel full of dirt being lifted when the new Courthouse was being
erected, and when it was finished two white men finishing the slate
roof, fell to their death in the Court House yard.
George W. Arnold procured a job as porter in a wholesale feed store on
May 10, 1880. John Hubbard and Company did business at the place, at
this place he worked thirty seven years. F.W. Griese, former mayor of
Evansville has often befriended the negro man and is ready to speak a
kindly word in his praise. But the face of John Sims still presents itself
when George Arnold is alone. "Never do anything to hurt any other
person," says he, "The hurt always comes back to you."
George Arnold was married to an Evansville Woman, but two years
ago he became a widower when death claimed his mate. He is now
lonely, but were it not for a keg of Holland gin his old age would be
spent in peace and happiness. "Beware of strong drink," said Uncle
George, "It causes trouble."

Emery Turner District #5 Lawrence County Bedford, Indiana
REMINISCENCES OF TWO EX-SLAVES THOMAS ASH, Mitchell,
Ind. MRS. MARY CRANE, Warren St., Mitchell, Ind.
[Thomas Ash]
I have no way of knowing exactly how old I am, as the old Bible
containing a record of my birth was destroyed by fire, many years ago,
but I believe I am about eighty-one years old. If so, I must have been
born sometime during the year, 1856, four years before the outbreak of
the War Between The States. My mother was a slave on the plantation,
or farm of Charles Ash, in Anderson county, Kentucky, and it was there
that I grew up.
I remember playing with Ol' Massa's (as he was called) boys, Charley,
Jim and Bill. I also have an unpleasant memory of having seen other

slaves on the place, tied up to the whipping post and flogged for
disobeying some order although I have no recollection of ever having
been whipped myself as I was only a boy. I can also remember how the
grown-up negroes on the place left to join the Union Army as soon as
they learned of Lincoln's proclamation making them free men.
Ed. Note--Mr. Ash was sick when interviewed and was not able to do
much talking. He had no picture of himself but agreed to pose for one
later on. [TR: no photograph found.]
[Mrs. Mary Crane]
[Illustration: Mrs. Mary Crane]
I was born on the farm of Wattie Williams, in 1855 and am eighty-two
years old. I came to Mitchell, Indiana, about fifty years ago with my
husband, who is now dead and four children and have lived here ever
since. I was only a girl, about five or six years old when the Civil War
broke out but I can remember very well, happenings of that time.
My mother was owned by Wattie Williams, who had a large farm,
located in Larue county, Kentucky. My father was a slave on the farm
of a Mr. Duret, nearby.
In those days, slave owners, whenever one of their daughters would get
married, would give her and her husband a slave as a wedding present,
usually allowing the girl to pick the one she wished to accompany her
to her new home. When Mr. Duret's eldest daughter married Zeke
Samples, she choose my father to accompany them to their home.
Zeke Samples proved to be a man who loved his toddies far better than
his bride and before long he was "broke". Everything he had or owned,
including my father, was to be sold at auction to pay off his debts.
In those days, there were men who made a business of buying up
negroes at auction sales and shipping them down to New Orleans to be
sold to owners of cotton and sugar cane plantations, just as men today,
buy and