Part 10

"Yes'm, I remember Marse Israel Lash, my Pappy's Marster. He was a low, thick-set man, very jolly an' friendly. He was real smart an' good too, 'cause his colored folks all loved 'im. He worked in the bank an' when the Yankees come, 'stead of shuttin' the door 'gainst 'em like the others did, he bid 'em welcome. (Betty's nodding head, expansive smile and wide-spread hands eloquently pantomime the banker's greeting.) So the Yankees done took the bank but give it back to 'im for his very own an' he kep' it but there was lots of bad feelin' 'cause he never give folks the money they put in the old bank. (Possibly this explains the closing of the branch of the Cape Fear Bank in Salem and opening of Israel Lash's own institution, the First National Bank of Salem, 1866.)

"I saw General Robert E. Lee, too. After the war he come with some friends to a meeting at Five Forks Baptist Church. All the white folks gathered 'round an' shook his hand an' I peeked 'tween their legs an' got a good look at' im. But he didn't have no whiskers, he was smooth-face! (Pictures of General Lee all show him with beard and mustache)

"Miss Ella died two years ago. I was sick in the hospital but the doctor come to tell me. I couldn't go to her buryin'. I sure missed her. (Poignant grief moistens Betty's eyes and thickens her voice). There wasn't ever no one like her. Miss Kate an' young Miss Julia still live at 'the house' with their brother, Marse Lucian (all children of the first Beverly Jones and 'old Miss Julia',) but it don't seem right with Miss Ella gone. Life seems dif'rent, some how, 'though there' lots of my young white folks an' my own kin livin' round an' they're real good to me. But Miss Ella's gone!

"Goodday, Ma'am. Come anytime. You're welcome to. I'm right glad to have visitors 'cause I can't get out much." A bobbing little curtsy accompanies Betty's cordial farewell.

Although a freed woman for 71 years, property owner for half of them, and now revered head of a clan of self respecting, self-supporting colored citizens, she is still at heart a "Jones negro," and all the distinguished descendants of her beloved Marse Beverly and Miss Julia will be her "own folks" as long as she lives.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320188] No. Words: 340 Worker: Mary A. Hicks Subject: Ex-slave Story Story Teller: John Coggin Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: No Date Stamp]

JOHN COGGIN. Ex-Slave Story.

An interview with John Coggin 85, of Method, N. C.

When the interviewer first visited Uncle John he was busy cutting hay for a white family nearby, swinging the scythe with the vigor of a young man. In late afternoon he was found sitting on the doorsteps of his granddaughter's house after a supper which certainly had onions on the menu and was followed by something stronger than water.

"I was borned on March 1, 1852 in Orange County. My mammy wuz named Phillis Fenn an' she wuz from Virginia. I ain't neber had no paw an' I ain't wanted none, I ain't had no brothers nar sisters nother."

"We 'longed ter Doctor Jim Leathers, an' de only whuppin' I eber got wuz 'bout fightin' wid young Miss Agnes, who wuz sommers long' bout my age. Hit wuz jist a little whuppin' but I' members hit all right."

"We wucked de fiel's, I totin' water fer de six or seben han's that wucked dar. An' we jist wucked moderate like. We had plenty ter eat an' plenty ter w'ar, do' we did go barefooted most of de year. De marster shore wuz good ter us do'."

"I 'members dat de fust I hyard of de Yankees wuz when young marster come in an' says, 'Lawd pa, de Yankees am in Raleigh.'"

"Dat ebenin' I wuz drawin' water when all of a sudden I looks up de road, an' de air am dark wid Yankees. I neber seed so many mens, hosses an' mules in my life. De band wuz playin' an' de soldiers wuz hollerin' an' de hosses wuz prancin' high. I done what all of de rest o' de slaves done, I run fer de woods."

"Atter de surrender we moved ter a place nigh Dix Hill hyar in Raleigh an' my mammy married a Coggin, dar's whar I gits my name. All of us slaves moved dar an' farmed."

"Way long time atter dat ole Marster Jim come ter visit his niggers, an' we had a big supper in his honor. Dat night he died, an' 'fore he died his min' sorta wanders an' he thinks dat hit am back in de slave days an' dat atter a long journey he am comin' back home. Hit shore wuz pitiful an' we shore did hate it."

"Yes 'um honey, we got 'long all right atter de war. You knows dat niggers ain't had no sense den, now dey has. Look at dese hyar seben chilluns, dey am my great gran'chillun an' dey got a heap mo' sense dan I has right now."

EH

N. C. District: No. 2 [320150] Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 433 Subject: MANDY COVERSON Story Teller: Mandy Coverson Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 7 1937"]

MANDY COVERSON Ex-Slave Story

An interview with Mandy Coverson, 78, of 103 South Wilmington Street, Raleigh.

I wuz borned in Union County to Sarah an' Henderson Tomberlin. My mother belonged to Mr. Moses Coverson, an' my pappy belonged to Mr. Jackie Tom Tomberlin. I stayed wid my mammy, of course, an' Marster Moses wuz good ter me. Dey warn't so good ter my mammy, case dey makes her wuck frum sunup till sundown in de hot summertime, an' she ain't had no fun at all. She plowed two oxes, an' if'en yo' has eber been around a steer yo' knows what aggravatin' things dey is.

De oberseer, whose name I'se plumb forget, wuz pore white trash an' he wuz meaner dan de meanest nigger. Anyhow I wuz too little ter do much wuck so I played a heap an' I had a big time.

My mammy, died 'fore I wuz very old an' missus kept me in de house. I wuz petted by her, an' I reckon spoiled. Yo' knows dat den de niggers ain't neber eat no biscuits but missus always gimmie one eber meal an' in dat way she got me interested in waitin' on de table.

I wuzn't old enough ter know much, but I does 'member how de fambly hid all de valuables 'fore de Yankees come, an' dat Marster Moses in pickin' up de big brass andirons hurt his back an' dey said dat dat wuz de cause of his death a little while atterwards. Anyhow de andirons wuz saved an' dar warn't no trouble wid de Yankees who comed our way, an' dey ain't hurt nobody dar.

Dey did kill all de things dat dey could eat an' dey stold de rest of de feed stuff. Dey make one nigger boy draw water fer dere hosses fer a day an' night. De Yankees wuz mean 'bout cussin', but de southern soldiers wuz jist as bad. Wheeler's Cavalry wuz de meanest in de whole bunch, I thinks.

De Ku Kluxes wuz pretty mean, but dey picked dere spite on de Free Issues. I doan know why dey done dis 'cept dat dey ain't wantin' no niggers a-favorin' dem nigh by, now dat slavery am ober. Dey done a heap of beatin' an' chasin' folkses out'n de country but I 'specks dat de Carpet Bagger's rule wuz mostly de cause of it.

I married Daniel Coverson, a slave on de same plantation I wuz on, an' forty years ago we moved ter Raleigh. We had a hard time but I'se glad dat he an' me am free an' doan belong ter two diff'ent famblies.

AC

N. C. District: No. 2 [320212] Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 914 Subject: Ex-Slave Story Story Teller: Willie Cozart Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: No Date Stamp]

EX-SLAVE STORY

An Interview by Mary A. Hicks with Willis Cozart of Zebulon, (Wake Co. N. C.) Age 92. May 12, 1937.

No mam, Mistress, I doan want ter ride in no automobile, thank you, I'se done walked these three miles frum Zebulon an' walkin' is what has kept me goin' all dese years.

Yes'm I'se a bachelor an' I wuz borned on June 11, 1845 in Person County. My papa wuz named Ed an' my maw wuz named Sally. Dar wuz ten of us youngins, Morris, Dallas, Stephen, Jerry, Florence, Polly, Lena, Phillis, Caroline, an' me. Mr. Starling Oakley of Person County, near Roxboro wuz my master an' as long as him an' ole mistress lived I went back ter see dem.

He wuz right good to de good niggers an' kinder strick wid de bad ones. Pusonly he ain't never have me whupped but two or three times. You's hyard 'bout dese set down strikes lately, well dey ain't de fust ones. Onct when I wuz four or five years old, too little to wuck in de fiel's, my master sot me an' some more little chilluns ter wuck pullin' up weeds roun' de house. Well, I makes a speech and I tells dem le's doan wuck none so out we sprawls on de grass under de apple tree. Atter awhile ole master found us dar, an' when he fin's dat I wuz de ring-leader he gives me a little whuppin'.

Hit wuz a big plantation, round 1,200 acres o' land, I reckon, an' he had 'bout seventy or eighty slaves to wuck de cotton, corn, tobacco an' de wheat an' vege'bles. De big house wuz sumpin to look at, but de slave cabins wuz jist log huts wid sand floors, and stick an' dirt chimneys. We wuz 'lowed ter have a little patch o' garden stuff at de back but no chickens ner pigs. De only way we had er' makin' money wuz by pickin' berries an' sellin' 'em. We ain't had much time to do dat, case we wucked frum sunup till sundown six days a week.

De master fed us as good as he knowed how, but it wuz mostly on bread, meat, an' vege'bles.

I 'members seberal slave sales whar dey sold de pappy or de mammy 'way frum de chillums an' dat wuz a sad time. Dey led dem up one at de time an' axed dem questions an' dey warn't many what wuz chained, only de bad ones, an' sometime when dey wuz travelin' it wuz necessary to chain a new gang.

I'se seed niggers beat till da blood run, an' I'se seed plenty more wid big scars, frum whuppin's but dey wuz de bad ones. You wuz whupped 'cordin ter de deed yo' done in dem days. A moderate whuppin' wuz thirty-nine or forty lashes an' a real whuppin' wuz a even hundred; most folks can't stand a real whuppin'.

Frum all dis you might think dat we ain't had no good times, but we had our co'n shuckin's, candy pullin's an' sich like. We ain't felt like huntin' much, but I did go on a few fox hunts wid de master. I uster go fishin' too, but I ain't been now since 1873, I reckon. We sometimes went ter de neighborhood affairs if'n we wuz good, but if we wuzn't an' didn't git a pass de patter-rollers would shore git us. When dey got through whuppin' a nigger he knowed he wuz whupped too.

De slave weddin's in dat country wuz sorta dis way: de man axed de master fer de 'oman an' he jist told dem ter step over de broom an' dat wuz de way dey got married dem days; de pore white folks done de same way.

Atter de war started de white folks tried ter keep us niggers frum knowin' 'bout it, but de news got aroun' somehow, an' dar wuz some talk of gittin' shet of de master's family an' gittin' rich. De plans didn't 'mout to nothin' an' so de Yankees come down.

I 'members moughty well when de Yankees come through our country. Dey stold ever'thing dey could find an' I 'members what ole master said. He says, 'Ever' one dat wants ter wuck fer me git in de patch ter pullin' dat forty acres of fodder an' all dat don't git up de road wid dem d---- Yankees.' Well we all went away.

Dat winter wuz tough, all de niggers near 'bout starved ter death, an' we ain't seed nothin' of de forty acres of land an' de mule what de Yankees done promise us nother. Atter awhile we had ter go ter our ole masters an' ax 'em fer bread ter keep us alive.

De Klu Klux Klan sprung right up out of de earth, but de Yankees put a stop ter dat by puttin' so many of dem in jail. Dey do say dat dat's what de State Prison wus built fer.

I never believed in witches an' I ain't put much stock in hain'ts but I'se seed a few things durin' my life dat I can't 'splain, like de thing wid de red eyes dat mocked me one night; but shucks I ain't believin' in dem things much. I'se plowed my lan', tended it year atter year, lived by myself an' all, an' I ain't got hurted yet, but I ain't never rid in a automobile yet, an' I got one tooth left.

B. N.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320159] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 1453 Subject: HANNAH CRASSON Story Teller: Hannah Crasson Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: HW notes at bottom of page illegible]

HANNAH CRASSON

My name is Hannah Crasson. I wuz born on John William Walton's plantation 4 miles from Garner and 13 miles from Raleigh, N. C. in the County of Wake. I am 84 years ole the 2nd day uv dis las' gone March. I belonged to Mr. John William Walton in slavery time. My missus wuz named Miss Martha.

My father wuz named Frank Walton. My mother wuz named Flora Walton. Grandma wuz 104 years when she died. She died down at de old plantation. My brothers were named Johnnie and Lang. My sisters were Adeline, Violet, Mary, Sarah, Ellen, and Annie. Four of us are livin', Ellen, Mary, Sarah and me.

De old boss man wuz good to us. I wuz talkin' about him the udder night. He didn't whup us and he said, he didn't want nobody else to whup us. It is jis like I tell you; he wuz never cruel to us. One uv his sons wuz cruel to us. We had a plenty to eat, we shore did, plenty to eat. We had nice houses to live in too. Grandma had a large room to live in, and we had one to live in. Daddy stayed at home with mother. They worked their patches by moonlight; and worked for the white folks in the day time.

They sold what they made. Marster bought it and paid for it. He made a barrel o' rice every year, my daddy did.

Mr. Bell Allen owned slaves too. He had a plenty o' niggers. His plantation wuz 5 miles from ourn. We went to church at the white folks church. When Mr. Bell Allen seed us cummin' he would say, 'Yonder comes John Walton's free niggers.'

Our marster would not sell his slaves. He give dem to his children when they married off do'. I swept yards, churned, fed the chickens. In de ebening I would go with my missus a fishin'. We eat collards, peas, corn bread, milk, and rice. We got biskit and butter twice a week. I thought dat de best things I ever et wuz butter spread on biskit. We had a corn mill and a flour mill on the plantation. There wuz about 24 slaves on de place. Dey had brandy made on de plantation, and de marster gib all his slaves some for dere own uses.

My grandmother and mother wove our clothes. Dey were called homespun. Dey made de shoes on de plantation too. I wuz not married til atter de surrender. I did not dress de finest in the world; but I had nice clothes. My wedding dress wuz made of cream silk, made princess with pink and cream bows. I wore a pair of morocco store bought shoes. My husband was dressed in a store bought suit of clothes, the coat wuz made pigen [HW correction: pigeon] tail. He had on a velvet vest and a white collar and tie. Somebody stole de ves' atter dat.

One of our master's daughters wuz cruel. Sometimes she would go out and rare on us, but old marster didn't want us whupped.

Our great grand mother wuz named granny Flora. Dey stole her frum Africa wid a red pocket handkerchief. Old man John William got my great grandmother. De people in New England got scured of we niggers. Dey were afrid me would rise aginst em and dey pushed us on down South. Lawd, why didn't dey let us stay whur we wuz, dey nebber wouldn't a been so menny half white niggers, but the old marster wuz to blame for that.

We never saw any slaves sold. They carried them off to sell 'em. The slaves travelled in droves. Fathers and mothers were sold from their chilluns. Chilluns wuz sold from their parents on de plantations close to us. Where we went to church, we sat in a place away from de white folks. The slaves never did run away from marster, because he wuz good to 'em; but they run away from other plantations.

Yes, we seed the patterollers, we called 'em pore white trash, we also called patterollers pore white pecks. They had ropes around their necks. They came to our house one night when we were singin' and prayin'. It wuz jist before the surrender. Dey were hired by de slave owner. My daddy told us to show 'em de brandy our marster gib us, den dey went on a way, kase dey knowed John Walton wuz a funny man about his slaves. Dey gave us Christmas and other holidays. Den dey, de men, would go to see dere wives. Some of the men's wives belong to other marsters on other plantations. We had corn shuckin's at night, and candy pullin's. Sometimes we had quiltings and dances.

One of the slaves, my aint, she wuz a royal slave. She could dance all over de place wid a tumbler of water on her head, widout spilling it. She sho could tote herself. I always luved to see her come to church. She sho could tote herself.

My oldest sister Violet died in slavery time. She wuz ten years old when she died. Her uncles were her pall bearers. Uncle Hyman and Uncle Handy carried her to the grave yard. If I makes no mistake my daddy made her coffin. Dere wuz no singin'. There were seven of the family dere, dat wuz all. Dey had no funeral. Dere were no white folks dere.

Dey baptized people in creeks and ponds.

We rode corn stalks, bent down small pine trees and rode' em for horses. We also played prison base. Colored and white played, yes sir, whites and colored. We played at night but we had a certain time to go to bed. Dat wuz nine o'clock. [HW: New paragraph indicated]

De boss man looked atter us when we wuz sick. He got doctors. I had the typhoid fever. All my hair came out. Dey called it de "mittent fever." Dr. Thomas Banks doctored me. He been dead a long time. Oh! I don't know how long he been dead. Near all my white folks were found dead. Mr. John died outside.

Walton died in bed. Marster Joe Walton died sitting under a tree side de path. Miss Hancey died in bed.

I 'member the day de war commenced. My marster called my father and my two uncles Handy and Hyman, our marster called 'em. Dey had started back to the field to work in the afternoon. He said, 'Cum here boys,' that wuz our young marster, Ben Walton, says 'cum here boys. I got sumptin' to tell you.' Uncle Hyman said, 'I can't. I got to go to work.' He said 'Come here and set down, I got sumptin' to tell you.'

The niggers went to him and set down. He told them; 'There is a war commenced between the North and the South. If the North whups you will be as free a man as I is. If the South whups you will be a slave all your days.'

Mr. Joe Walton said when he went to war dat dey could eat breakfast at home, go and whup the North, and be back far dinner. He went away, and it wuz four long years before he cum back to dinner. De table wuz shore set a long time for him. A lot of de white folks said dey wouldn't be much war, dey could whup dem so easy. Many of dem never did come back to dinner. I wuz afraid of the Yankees because Missus had told us the Yankees were going to kill every nigger in the South. I hung to my mammy when dey come through.

I thought Abraham Lincoln wuz the Medicine man, with grip in his han', cause he said every borned man must be free.

I did not think anything of Jeff Davis. I thank de will of God for setting us free. He got into Abraham Lincoln and the Yankees. We are thankful to the Great Marster dat got into Lincoln and the Yankees. Dey say Booker Washington wuz fine, I don't know.

The white folks did not allow us to have nuthing to do wid books. You better not be found, tryin' to learn to read. Our marster wuz harder down on dat den anything else. You better not be ketched wid a book. Day read the Bible and told us to obey our marster for de Bible said obey your marster.

The first band of music I ever herd play the Yankees wuz playin' it. They were playin' a song. 'I am tired of seeing de homespun dresses the southern women wear'.

I thinks Mr. Roosevelt is a fine man. Jus' what we need.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320169] Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 130 Subject: EX-SLAVE STORY Story Teller: Julia Crenshaw Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: HW circled "I"]

[TR: No Date Stamp]

EX-SLAVE STORY

As Julia Crenshaw recalled her mother's story.

My mammy wuz named Jane an' my pappy wuz named Richard. Dey belonged ter Lawyer R. J. Lewis in Raleigh, dar whar Peace Institute am ter day. Mammy said dat de white folkses wuz good ter dem an' gib 'em good food an' clothes. She wuz de cook, an' fer thirty years atter de war she cooked at Peace.

Before de Yankees come Mr. Lewis said, dat he dreamed dat de yard wuz full uv dem an' he wuz deef. When dey comed he played deef so dat he won't have ter talk ter 'em. Him he am dat proud.

Mammy said dat she ain't cared 'bout been' free case she had a good home, but atter all slavery wusn't de thing fer America.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320239] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 1,414 Subject: ZEB CROWDER Story Teller: Zeb Crowder Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 30 1937"]

ZEB CROWDER 323 E. Cabarrus Street