Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina, Part 2 | Page 3

his
grandfather was, and two sweet daughters. Alice, the older one, is a
teacher in the public schools of Columbia and Annie is a student. Our
home life has always been pleasant and unusually sunny.
"I had one very humorous experience three years ago when I was
invited to deliver an address near Mount Olive, N.C., to a convention of
young people. Arriving about 10 o'clock that day, I was met by a
citizen who told me he was assigned to introduce me that evening. As
we rode along, I cautioned him not to boost me too highly. He said
little.
"When the big, and, I may say, expectant audience was seated that
night, he arose and seemed much embarrassed, ultimately saying:
'Ladies and gentlemen, I have an unpleasant duty to perform this
evening.' Then, pointing at me, he went on: 'I don't know this man,
much. Fact is, I only know two things about him. One is, he has never
been in jail; and the other is, I never could figure why.'
"No, I am not related to the late Robert Bruce Elliott by ties of
consanguinity. He was successively twice a member of Congress from
South Carolina, and a member and Speaker of the South Carolina
House of Representatives in 1876. Perhaps these honors came to him
because he had a good education before he met the opportunity for
service.
"When I think of the '60's-'70's period, I am surprised that recent slaves,
suddenly placed in administrative positions of honor and trust, did as
well as they did.

"In the seventy-two years since slavery, I have noted much
improvement along the road, and I am sure that our nation has far less
discord now, than it had when I was a small lad. And, when one can
note progress in our march toward the light, I guess that ought to be
sufficient for my optimism."

Project 1885-1 Folklore Spartanburg, Dist. 4 Dec. 23, 1937
Edited by: Elmer Turnage
EX-SLAVE STORIES
EMANUEL ELMORE.
"I was born on June 20th and I remember when the war broke out, for I
was about five years old. We lived in Spartanburg County not far from
old Cherokee ford. My father was Emanuel Elmore, and he lived to be
about 90 years old.
"My marster was called by everybody, Col. Elmore, and that is all that I
can remember about his name. When he went to the war I wanted to go
with him, but I was too little. He joined the Spartanburg Sharp Shooters.
They had a drill ground near the Falls. My pa took me to see them drill,
and they were calling him Col. Elmore then. When I got home I tried to
do like him and everybody laughed at me. That is about all that I
remember about the war. In those days, children did not know things
like thay do now, and grown folks did not know as much either.
"I used to go and watch my father work. He was a moulder in the
Cherokee Iron Works, way back there when everything was done by
hand. He moulded everything from knives and forks to skillets and
wash pots. If you could have seen pa's hammer, you would have seen
something worth looking at. It was so big that it jarred the whole earth
when it struck a lick. Of course it was a forge hammer, driven by water
power. They called the hammer 'Big Henry'. The butt end was as big as
an ordinary telephone pole.

"The water wheel had fifteen or twenty spokes in it, but when it was
running it looked like it was solid. I used to like to sit and watch that
old wheel. The water ran over it and the more water came over, the
more power the wheel gave out.
"At the Iron Works they made everything by hand that was used in a
hardware store, like nails, horse shoes and rims for all kinds of wheels,
like wagon and buggy wheels. There were moulds for everything no
matter how large or small the thing to be made was. Pa could almost
pick up the right mould in the dark, he was so used to doing it. The
patterns for the pots and kettles of different sizes were all in rows, each
row being a different size. In my mind I can still see them.
"Hot molten iron from the vats was dipped with spoons which were
handled by two men. Both spoons had long handles, with a man at each
handle. The spoons would hold from four to five gallons of hot iron
that poured just like water does. As quick as the men poured the hot
iron in the mould, another man came along behind them and closed the
mould.