Part 23

Durin' slavery dey tried to sell daddy. De speculator wus dere an 'daddy suspicion sumpin. His marster tole him to go an' shuck some corn. Dey aimed to git him in de corn crib an' den tie him an' sell him but when he got to the crib he kept on goin'. He went to Mr. Henry Buffaloe's an' stayed two weeks den he went back home. Dere wus nuthin' else said 'bout sellin him. Dey wanted to sell him an buy a 'oman so dey could have a lot of slave chilluns cause de 'oman could multiply. Dey hired men out by the year to contractors to cut cord wood an' build railroads. Father wus hired out dat way. Ole man Rome Harp wus hired out day way. He belonged to John Harp.

Daddy said his marster never did hit him but one blow. Daddy said he wurked hard everyday, an' done as near right as he knowed how to do in everything. His marster got mad ah' hit him wid a long switch. Den daddy tole him he wus workin' bes' he could for him an' dat he wus not goin' to take a whuppin. His marster walked off an' dat wus de last of it, an' he never tried to whup him again.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320225] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 775 Subject: ROBERT HINTON Story Teller: Robert Hinton Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: No Date Stamp]

ROBERT HINTON 420 Smith Street, Raleigh, N. C.

My name is Robert Hinton. I ain't able to work, ain't been able to do any work in five years. My wife, Mary Hinton, supports me by workin' with the WPA. She was cut off las' May. Since she has had no job, we have to live on what she makes with what little washin' she gets from de white folks; an' a little help from charity; dis ain't much. Dey give you for one week, one half peck meal, one pound meat, one pound powdered milk, one half pound o' coffee. Dis is what we git for one week.

I wus borned in 1856 on de Fayetteville Road three miles from Raleigh, south. I belonged to Lawrence Hinton. My missus wus named Jane Hinton. De Hintons had 'bout twenty slaves on de plantation out dere. Dey had four chillun, de boy Ransom an' three girls: Belle, Annie an' Miss Mary. All are dead but one, Miss Mary is livin' yit. My mother wus named Liza Hinton an' my father wus named Bob Hinton. My gran'mother wus named Mary Hinton an' gran'father Harry Hinton.

We had common food in slavery time, but it wus well fixed up, an' we were well clothed. We had a good place to sleep, yes sir, a good place to sleep. We worked from sunrise to sunset under overseers. Dey were good to us. I wus small at dat time. I picked up sticks in de yard an' done some work around de house, but when dey turned deir backs I would be playin' most o' de time. We played shootin' marbles, an' runnin', an' jumpin'. We called de big house de dwelling house an' de slave quarters de slave houses. Some of 'em were in marster's yard and some were outside. Dey give all de families patches and gardens, but dey did not sell anything.

We had prayer meetin' in our houses when we got ready, but dere were no churches for niggers on de plantation. We had dances and other socials durin' Christmas times. Dey give us de Christmas holidays.

No sir, dey did not whup me. I wus mighty young. Dey didn't work chillun much. I have seen 'em whup de grown ones do'. I never saw a slave sold and never saw any in chains. Dey run away from our plantation but dey come back again. William Brickell, Sidney Cook, Willis Hinton all run away. I don't know why dey all run away but some run away to keep from being whupped.

I have lived in North Carolina all my life, right here in Wake County. We used to set gums and catch rabbits, set traps and caught patridges and doves.

Yes sir, I went blindin'. I 'members gittin' a big light an' jumpin' 'round de bresh heaps, an' when a bird come out we frailed him down. We went gigging fish too. We found 'em lying on de bottom o' de creeks an' ponds at night, an' stuck de gig in 'em an' pulled 'em out.

De white folks, ole missus, teached us de catechism, but dey didn't want you to learn to read and write. I can read and write now; learned since de surrender. Sometimes we went to de white folks church. I don't know any songs.

When we got sick our boss man sent for a doctor, Dr. Burke Haywood, Dr. Johnson, or Dr. Hill.

I 'members when de North folks and de Southern folks wus fightin'. De Northern soldiers come in here on de Fayetteville Road. I saw 'em by de hundreds. Dey had colored folks soldiers in blue clothes too. In de mornin' white soldiers, in de evenin' colored soldiers; dats de way dey come to town.

I married first Almeta Harris. I had six children by her. Second, I married Mary Jones. She is my wife now. We had six children. My wife is now 65 years old and she has to support me. I am done give out too much to work any more.

Yes sir, that I have seen de patterollers, but my old boss didn't 'low 'em to whup his niggers. Marster give his men passes.

I know when de Ku Klux was here, but I don't know much about 'em.

I thought slavery wus a bad thing' cause all slaves did not fare alike. It wus all right for some, but bad for some, so it wus a bad thing.

I joined the church because I got religion and thought the church might help me keep it.

I think Abraham Lincoln wus a good man, but I likes Mr. Roosevelt; he is a good man, a good man.

AC

N. C. District: No. 2 [320048] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 922 Subject: WILLIAM GEORGE HINTON Person Interviewed: William George Hinton Editor: G. L. Andrews

[TR: HW Date: "8/31/37"]

WILLIAM GEORGE HINTON Star Street, R. F. D. #2, Box 171

I was born in Wake County in de year 1859. August 28th. I 'members seeing de Yankees, it seems like a dream. One come along ridin' a mule. Dey sed he wus a Yankee bummer, a man dat went out raging on peoples things. He found out whur the things wus located an' carried the rest there. The bummers stole for de army, chickens, hogs, an' anything they could take. Atter de bummer come along in a few minutes de whole place wus crowded wid Yankees. De blue coats wus everywhere I could look.

Marster didn't have but five slaves, an' when de Yankees come dere wus only me an' my oldest sister dere. All de white folks had left except missus and her chillun. Her baby wus only three weeks ole then.

A Yankee come to my oldest sister an' said, 'Whur is dem horses?' He pulled out a large pistol an' sed, 'Tell me whur dem horses is or I will take your damn sweet life.' Marster hid de horses an' sister didn't know, she stuck to it she didn't know an' de Yankees didn't shoot.

Dey come back, de whole crowd, de next day an' made marster bring in his horses. Bey took de horses an' bought some chickens an' paid for 'em, den dey killed an' took de rest. Ha! ha! dey shore done dat. Paid for some an' took de rest.

I seed de Yankees atter de surrender. Dey wus staying at de ole Soldiers Home on New Bern Avenue. One day mother carried me there to sell to 'em. One time she went there an' she had a rooster who wus a game. His eyes wus out from fighting another game rooster belonging to another person near our home, Mr. Emory Sewell. She carried de rooster in where dere wus a sick Yankee. De Yankee took him in his hands an' de rooster crowed. He give mother thirty-five cents for him. De Yankee said if he could crow an' his eyes out he wanted him. He said, he called dat spunk.

Dere wus a man who wus a slave dat belonged to Mr. Kerney Upchurch come along riding a mule. My oldest sister, de one de Yankees threatened, tole him de Yankees are up yonder. He said, 'Dad lim de Yankees.' He went on, when he got near de Yankees dey tole him to halt.' Instead of haltin' he sold out runnin' the mule fur de ole field. Der wus a gang of young fox hounds dere. When he lit out on de mule, dey thought he wus goin' huntin' so dey took out atter him, jest like dey wus atter a fox. Some of de Yankees shot at him, de others just almost died a laughin'.

We didn't git much to eat. Mother said it wus missus fault, she was so stingy.

We had homemade clothes an' wooden bottom shoes for de grown folks, but chillun did not wear shoes den, dey went barefooted.

All de slaves lived in one house built about one hundred yards from the great house, marsters house wus called the great house.

My father wus named Robin Hinton an' my mother wus named Dafney Hinton. My father belonged to Betsy Ransom Hinton an' mother belonged first to Reddin Cromb in Lenoir County an' then to James Thompson of Wake County. I wus borned after mother wus brought to Wake County. Marster had one boy named Beuregard, four girls, Caroline, Alice, Lena and Nellie. I do not remember my grandparents.

I saw a slave named Lucinda, sold to ole man Askew, a speculator, by Kerney Upchurch. I seed 'em carry her off.

One of de slave men who belonged to ole man Burl Temples wus sent to wurk for Mr. Temples' son who had married. His missus put him to totin' water before goin' to wurk in de mornin'. Three other slaves toted water also. He refused to tote water an' ran. She set de blood hounds atter him an' caught him near his home, which wus his ole marster's house. Ole marster's son come out, an' wouldn't let 'em whup him, an' they wouldn't make him go back.

Missus Harriet Temples wus a terrible 'oman, a slave jest couldn't suit her. De slave dat run away from young marster wus finally sent back. His marster give him a shoulder of meat before he left. He hung it in a tree. Missus tole him to put it in the smoke house. He refused, sayin' he would see it no more.

A slave by the name of Sallie Temples run away 'cause her missus, Mary Temples, wus so mean to her. She stuck hot irons to her. Made 'em drink milk an' things for punishment is what my mother an' father said. Sallie never did come back. Nobody never did know what become of her.

Soon as de war wus over father an' mother left dere marsters. Dey went to Mr. Tom Bridgers. We lived on de farm atter dis. Mother cooked, sister an' I worked on de farm. Sister plowed like a man. De first help my mammy got wus from de Yankees, it wus pickle meat an' hardtack. I wus wid her an' dey took me in an' give me some clothes. Mother drawed from 'em a long time. We have farmed most our lives. Sometimes we worked as hirelings and den as share croppers. I think slavery wus a bad thing.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320116] Worker: Mary A. Hicks No. Words: 465 Subject: Eustace Hodges Story Teller: Eustace Hodges Editor: Geo. L. Andrews

[TR: Date Stamp "AUG 6 1937"]

EUSTACE HODGES

An interview with Eustace Hodges, 76 years old, of 625 W. Lenoir Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.

I doan know when I wus borned, ner where but at fust my mammy an' me 'longed ter a McGee here in Wake County. My mammy wurked in de fiel's den, ditchin' an' such, even plowin' while we 'longed ter McGee, but he sold us ter Mr. Rufus Jones. My daddy still 'longed ter him but at de close of de war he comed ter Mr. Jones' plantation an' he tuck de name of Jones 'long wid us.

Marse Rufus wus gooder dan Marse McGee, dey said. He give us more ter eat an' wear an' he ain't make us wurk so hard nother. We had our wurk ter do, of course, but mammy ain't had ter ditch ner plow no mo'. She wurked in de house den, an' none of de wimmen done men's wurk. Course she can't wurk so hard an' have 'leben chilluns too. She had a baby one day an' went ter wurk de nex' while she 'longed ter McGee, but at Marse Rufus' she stayed in de bed seberal days an' had a doctor.

Marse Rufus uster let us take Sadday evenin' off an' go swimmin' er fishin' er go ter Raleigh. I 'members dat somebody in town had a fuss wid Marse Rufus 'bout lettin' his niggers run loose in town. Marse Rufus atter dat had a oberseer in town ter see 'bout his niggers.

I got a whuppin' once fer punchin' out a frog's eyes. Miss Sally giv' hit ter me long wid a lecture 'bout bein' kin' ter dumb brutes, but I ain't neber seed whar a frog am a brute yit.

Yes'um I heard a heap 'bout de Yankees but I ain't prepared fer dere takin' eben our bread. Miss Sally ain't prepared nother an' she tells' em whar ter go, den she goes ter bed sick. I wus sorry fer Miss Sally, dat I wus.

De day dat news of de surrender come Miss Sally cried some more an' she ain't wanted mammy ter go, so Marse Rufus said dat we can stay on. Dey said dat Mister McGee runned his niggers offen his place wid a bresh broom dat day.

Atter de war we stayed on Marse Rufus' place till 1898 when pa died. I had married a feller by de name of Charlie Hodges, what lived on a nearby plantation an' we wus livin' on Marse Rufus' place wid pa an' ma. We moved ter Raleigh den an' atter seberal years mammy moved hear too. You can fin' her on Cannon Street, but I'll tell you dat she's pretty puny now, since her stroke.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320195] Worker: Mrs. Edith S. Hibbs and Mrs. W. N. Harriss No. Words: 795 Subject: Alex Huggins' Story Interviewed: Alex Huggins, 920 Dawson St, Wilmington, N. C. Edited: Mrs. W. N. Harriss

[TR: No Date Stamp]

STORY OF ALEX HUGGINS, EX-SLAVE

920 Dawson Street, Wilmington, N. C.

I was born in New Bern on July 9, 1850. My father and mother belonged to Mr. L. B. Huggins. My father was a carpenter and ship builder an' the first things I remember was down on Myrtle Grove Sound, where Mr. Huggins had a place. I was a sort of bad boy an' liked to roam 'round. When I was about twelve years old I ran away. It was in 1863 when the war was goin' on.

Nobody was bein' mean to me. No, I was'nt bein' whipped. Don't you know all that story 'bout slaves bein' whipped is all _Bunk_, (with scornful emphasis). What pusson with any sense is goin' to take his horse or his cow an' beat it up. It's prope'ty. We was prope'ty. Val'able prope'ty. No, indeed, Mr. Luke give the bes' of attention to his colored people, an' Mis' Huggins was like a mother to my mother. Twa'nt anythin' wrong about home that made me run away. I'd heard so much talk 'bout freedom I reckon I jus' wanted to try it, an' I thought I had to get away from home to have it.

Well, I coaxed two other boys to go with me, an' a grown man he got the boat an' we slipped off to the beach an' put out to sea. Yes'm, we sho' was after adventure. But, we did'n get very far out from sho', an' I saw the lan' get dimmer an' dimmer, when I got skeered, an' then I got seasick, an' we was havin' more kinds of adventure than we wanted, an' then we saw some ships. There was two of 'em, an' they took us on board.

They was the North Star an' the Eastern Star of the Aspinwal Line, a mail an' freighter runnin' between Aspinwal near the Isthmus of Panama and New York. We used to put in off Charleston.

Then, in 1864 I joined the Union Navy. Went on board our convoy, the Nereus. We convoyed to keep the Alabama, a Confederate privateer, away. The Commander of the Nereus asked me how's I like to be his cabin boy. So I was 2nd class cabin boy an' waited on the Captain. He was Five Stripe Commander J. C. Howell. He was Commander of the whole fleet off Fort Fisher. When the Captain wanted somethin' good to eat he used to send me ashore for provisions. He liked me. He was an old man. He didn't take much stock in fun, but he was a real man. I was young an' was'nt serious. I jus' wanted a good time. I don't know much about the war, but I do know two men of our boat was killed on shore while we was at Fort Fisher.

After the battle of Fort Fisher, we was on our way to Aspinwal. Layin' off one day at Navassa Island, the Mast Head reported a strange sail. 'Where away?' 'Just ahead'. 'She seems to be a three mast steamer!' 'Which way headed?' We decided it was the Alabama going to St. Nicholas Mole, West Indies.

Our Captain called the officers together an' held a meetin'. Says he: 'We'll go under one bell (slow). Lieutenant will go ashore an' get some information.' When we got there she had a coal schooner alongside taking on coal. Our Captain prepared to capture her when she came out. But she did'n come out 'til night. She dodged. Good thing too. She'd a knocked hells pete out o' us. She was close to the water and could have fought us so much better than we could her. We didn't want to fight 'cause we knowed enough to jest natu'ally be skeered. She was a one decker man o' war. We was a two decker with six guns on berth deck, an' five guns on spar deck. I never saw her after that, but I heard she was contacted by the Kearsage which sunk her off some island.

I stayed in the navy eighteen months. Was discharged at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Admiral Porter was Admiral of the U. S. Navy at that time.

I stayed in New York five or six years, then I cane home to my mother. I was in the crude drug business in Wilmington for twenty years.

Yes'm I went to church and Sunday school when I was a child, when they could ketch me. Whilst I was in New York I went to church regular.

I married after awhile. My wife died about ten years ago. We had one son. I b'lieve he's in Baltimore, but I ain't heard from him in a long time. He don't keer nothin' about me. Of co'se I'm comfortable. I gits my pension, $75 a month. I give $10 of it to my nephew who's a cripple.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320124] Worker: T. Pat Matthews No. Words: 645 Subject: CHARLIE H. HUNTER Story Teller: C. H. Hunter Editor: Geo. L. Andrews

[TR: Date Stamp "AUG 4 1937"]

CHARLIE H. HUNTER, 80 years old, 2213 Barker Street West Raleigh

My full name is Charlie H. Hunter. I wus borned an' reared in Wake County, N. C., born May, 1857. My mother wus Rosa Hunter an' my father wus named Jones. I never saw my father. We belonged to a family named Jones first, an' then we wus sold to a slave owner seven miles Northwest by the name Joe Hayes an' a terrible man he wus. He would get mad 'bout most anything, take my mother, chain her down to a log and whup her unmercifully while I, a little boy, could do nothing but stan' there an' cry, an' see her whupped. We had fairly good food an' common clothing. We had good sleeping places. My mother wus sold to a man named Smith. I married first Annie Hayes who lived sixteen months.

No prayer meetings wus allowed on de plantations an' no books of any kind. I can read an' write, learned in a school taught by Northern folks after the surrender, Mr. an' Mrs. Graves who taught in Raleigh in the rear of the African Methodist Episcopal church. The school house wus owned by the church. We played no games in slavery times. I saw slaves sold on the block once in Raleigh.

I wus to be sold but the surrender stopped it. When the Yankees come they asked me where wus my marster. I told them I didn't know. Marster told me not to tell where he wus. He had gone off into the woods to hide his silver. In a few minutes the ground wus covered with Yankees. The Yankees stole my pen knife. I thought a lot of it. Knives wus scarce and hard to get. I cried about they taking it. They got my marster's carriage horses, two fine gray horses. His wife had lost a brother, who had been in the army but died at home. He wus buried in the yard. The Yankees thought the grave wus a place where valuables wus buried and they had to get a guard to keep them from diggin' him up. They would shoot hogs, cut the hams and shoulders off, stick them on their bayonetts, throw them over the'r shoulders an' go on.

We called our houses shanties in slavery time. I never saw any patterollers. I don't remember how many slaves on the plantation wus taken to Richmond an' sold. My mother looked after us when we wus sick. I had four brothers an' no sisters. They are all dead. I did house work an' errands in slavery time. I have seen one gang of Ku Klux. They wus under arrest at Raleigh in Governor Holden's time. I don't remember the overseer.

We moved to Raleigh at the surrender. Marster give us a old mule when we left him, an' I rode him into Raleigh. We rented a house on Wilmington Street, an' lived on hard tack the Yankees give us 'til we could git work.

Mother went to cooking for the white folks, but I worked for Mr. Jeff Fisher. I held a job thirty-five years driving a laundry truck for L. R. Wyatt. The laundry wus on the corner of Jones an' Salisbury Street.

I married Cenoro Freeman. We lived together fifty-six years. She wus a good devoted wife. We wus married Dec. 9, 1878. She died in May 1934. [HW: bracket] Booker T. Washington wus a good man. I have seen him. Abraham Lincoln wus one of my best friends. He set me free. The Lawd is my best friend. I don't know much 'bout Jefferson Davis. Jim Young an' myself wus pals.

My object in joining the church wus to help myself an' others to live a decent life, a life for good to humanity an' for God.