Part 8

"The war come on direckly after we got here. Several families had the slaves drove off to Texas to save them. Keep em from following the Yankee soldiers right here at the Bluff off. I remember seein' them come up to the gate. My mother and two aunts went. His son and some more men drove em. After freedom them what left childern come back. I stayed with my grandma while they gone. I fed the chickens, shelled corn, churned, swept. I done any little turns they sent me to do.

"One thing I remember happened when they had scrimmage close--it mighter been the one on Long Prairie--they brought a young boy shot through his lung to Mr. Phillip McNeill's house. He was a stranger. He died. I felt so sorry for him. He was right young. He belong to the Southern army. The Southern army nearly made his place their headquarters.

"Another thing I remember was a agent was going through the country settin' fire to all the cotton. Mr. McNeill had his cotton--all our crop we made. That man set it afire. It burned more than a week big. He burned some left at the gin not Mr. McNeill's. It was fun to us children but I know my grandma cried and all the balance of the slaves. Cause they got some Christmas money and clothes too when the cotton was sold.

"The slaves hated the Yankees. They treated them mean. They was having a big time. They didn't like the slaves. They steal from the slaves too. Some poor folks didn't have slaves.

"After freedom my mother come back after me and we come here to De Valls Bluff and I been here ever since. The Yankee soldiers had built shacks and they left them. They would do. Some was one room, log, boxed and all sorts. They give us a little to eat to keep us from starvin'. It sho was a little bit too. My mother got work about.

"The first schoolhouse was a colored school. We had two rooms and two teachers sent down from the North to teach us. If they had a white school I didn't know it. They had one later on. I was bout grown. Mr. Proctor and Miss Rice was the first teachers. We laughed bout em. They was rough looking, didn't look like white folks down here we'd been used to. They thought they sho was smart. Another teacher come down here was Mr. Abner. White folks wouldn't have nothin' to do with em. We learned. They learned us the ABC's and to write. I can read. I learned a heap of it since I got grown just trying. They gimme a start.

"Times is hard in a way. Prices so high. I never had a hard time in my life. I get $40 a month. It is cause my husband was a soldier here at De Valls Bluff.

"I do not vote. I ain't goiner vote.

"I don't know what to think of the young generation. They are on the road to ruin seems like. I speakln' of the real young folks. They do like they see the white girls and boys doin'. I don't know what to become of em. The women outer stay at home and let the men take care of em. The women seems like taking all the jobs. The colored folks cookin' and making the living for their men folks. It ain't right--to me. But I don't care how they do. Things ain't got fixed since that last war." (World War).

Interviewer: Mrs. Rosa B. Ingram Person interviewed: Lizzie Barnett; Conway, Arkansas Age: 100?

"Yes; I was born a slave. My old mammy was a slave before me. She was owned by my old Miss, Fanny Pennington, of Nashville, Tennessee. I was born on a plantation near there. She is dead now. I shore did love Miss Fanny.

"Did you have any brothers and sisters, Aunt Liz.?"

"Why, law yes, honey, my mammy and Miss Fanny raised dey chillun together. Three each, and we was jes' like brothers and sisters, all played in de same yard. No, we did not eat together. Dey sot us niggers out in de yard to eat, but many a night I'se slept with Miss Fanny.

"Mr. Pennington up and took de old-time consumption. Dey calls it T.B. now. My mammy nursed him and took it from him and died before Mr. Abe Lincoln ever sot her free.

"I have seen hard times, Miss, I shore have.

"In dem days when a man owned a plantation and had children and they liked any of the little slave niggers, they were issued out to 'em just like a horse or cow.

"'Member, honey, when de old-time war happened between the North and South, The Slavery War. It was so long ago I just can 'member it. Dey had us niggers scared to death of the Bluejackets. One day a man come to Miss Fanny's house and took a liking to me. He put me up on a block an' he say, 'How old is dis nigger?' An' she say 'five' when she know well an' good I was ten. No, he didn't get me. But I thought my time had come.

"Yes, siree, I was Miss Fanny's child. Why wouldn't I love her when I sucked titty from her breast when my mammy was working in the field? I shore did love Miss Fanny.

"When de nigger war was over and dey didn't fit (fight) any longer, Abe Lincoln sot all de niggers free and den got 'sassinated fer doin it.

"Miss, you don't know what a hard life we slaves had, cause you ain't old enough to 'member it. Many a time I've heard the bull whips a-flying, and heard the awful cries of the slaves. The flesh would be cut in great gaps and the maggits (maggots) would get in them and they would squirm in misery.

"I want you to know I am not on Arkansas born nigger. I come from Tennessee. Be sure to put that down. I moved to Memphis after Miss Fanny died.

"While I lived in Memphis, de Yellow Fever broke out. You have never seed the like. Everything was under quarantine. The folks died in piles and de coffins was piled as high as a house. They buried them in trenches, and later they dug graves and buried them. When they got to looking into the coffins, they discovered some had turned over in dey coffins and some had clawed dey eyes out and some had gnawed holes in dey hands. Dey was buried alive!

"Miss, do you believe in ha'nts? Well, if you had been in Memphis den you would. Dey was jes' paradin' de streets at nite and you'd meet dem comin at you round de dark corners and all de houses everywhere was ha'nted. I've seed plenty of 'em wid my own eyes, yes, siree.

"Yes, the times were awful in Memphis endurin the plague. Women dead lying around and babies sucking their breasts. As soon as the frost came and the quarantine was lifted, I came to Conway, 1867. But I am a Tennessee nigger.

"When I cams to Conway there were few houses to live in. No depot. I bought this piece of land to build my shanty from Mr. Jim Harkrider for $25.00. I worked hard for white folks and saved my money and had this little two-room house built (mud chimney, and small porch and one small window). It is about to fall down on me, but it will last as long as I live. At first, I lived and cooked under a bush (brush) arbor. Cooked on the coals in an iron skillet. Here it it, Miss.

"Part ob de time after de nigger war (Civil) I lived in Hot Springs. President 'Kinley had a big reservation over there and a big hospital for the sick and wounded soldiers. Den de war broke out in Cuba and dere was a spatch (dispatch) board what de news come over dat de war was on. Den when dat war was over and 'Kinley was tryin to get us niggers a slave pension dey up and 'sassinated him.

"After Mr. Lincoln sot de slaves free, dey had Northern teachers down South and they were called spies and all left the country.

"I don't know 'sactly how old I am. Dey say I am 100. If Miss Fanny was livin' she could settle it. But I have had a hard life. Yes mam. Here I is living in my shanty, 'pendin' on my good white neighbors to feed me and no income 'cept my Old Age Pension. Thank God for Mr. Roosevelt. I love my Southern white friends. I am glad the North and South done shook hands and made friends. All I has to do now is sit and look forward to de day when I can meet my old mammy and Miss Fanny in the Glory Land. Thank God."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Spencer Barnett (blind), Holly Grove, Ark. Age: 81

"I was born April 30, 1856. It was wrote in a old Bible. I am 81 years old. I was born 3 miles from Florence, Alabama. The folks owned us was Nancy and Mars Tom Williams. To my recollection they had John, William, and Tom, boys; Jane, Ann, Lucy, and Emma, girls. In my family there was 13 children. My parents name Harry and Harriett Barnett.

"Mars Tom Williams had a tanning yard. He bought hides this way: When a fellow bring hides he would tan em then give him back half what he brought. Then he work up the rest in shoes, harness, whoops, saddles and sell them. The man all worked wid him and he had a farm. He raised corn, cotton, wheat, and oats.

"That slavery was bad. Mars Tom Williams wasn't cruel. He never broke the skin. When the horn blowed they better be in place. They used a twisted cowhide whoop. It was wet and tied, then it mortally would hurt. One thing you had to be in your place day and night. It was confinin'.

"Sunday was visiting day.

"One man come to dinner, he hit a horse wid a rock and run way. He missed his dinner. He come back fo dark and went tole Mars Tom. He didn't whoop him. I was mighty little when that took place.

"They worked on Saturday like any other day. One man fixed out the rations. It didn't take long fer to go git em.

"The women plowed like men in plow time. Some women made rails. When it was cold and raining they spun and wove in the house. The men cut wood under a shed or side the barn so it knock off the wind. Mars Tom Williams had 12 grown men and women. I was too little to count but I heard my folks call am over by name and number more times en I got fingers and toes. He would hire em out to work some.

"When freedom come on I was on Hawkin Lankford Simpson place. It was 3 or 5 miles from town. They had a big dinner-picnic close by. It was 4 or 5 day of August. A lot of soldiers come by there and said, 'You niggers air free.' It bout broke up the picnic. The white folks broke off home. Them wanted to go back went, them didn't struck off gone wild. Miss Lucy and Mr. Bob Barnett give all of em stayed some corn and a little money. Then he paid off at the end of the year. Then young master went and rented at Dilly Hunt place. We stayed wid him 3 or 4 years then we went to a place he bought. Tom Barnett come to close to Little Rock. Mars William started and died on the way in Memphis. We come on wid the family. Guess they are all dead now. Wisht I know or could find em. Tom never married. He was a soldier. One of the boys died fo the war started.

"My brother Joe married Luvenia Omsted and Lewis Omsted married my sister Betsy and Mars Tom Williams swapped the women. My ma was a cook for the white folks how I come to know so much bout it all. Boys wore loose shirts till they was nine or ten years old. The shirt come to the calf of the leg. No belt.

"We had plenty common eating. They had a big garden and plenty milk. They cooked wid the eggs mostly. They would kill a beef and have a week of hog killing. They would kill the beef the hardest weather that come. The families cooked at night and on Sunday at the log cabins. They cook at night for all next day. The old men hauled wood.

"When I was a little boy I could hear men runnin' the slaves wid hounds in the mountains. The landmen paid paddyrollers to keep track of slaves. Keep em home day and night.

"We took turns bout going to white church. We go in washin' at the creek and put on clean clothes. She learned me a prayer. Old mistress learned me to say it nights I slept up at the house. I still can say it:

'Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep If I should die fo I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take.'

"The slaves at our places had wheat straw beds. The white folks had fine goose feather beds. We had no idle days. Had a long time at dinner to rest and rest and water the teams. Sometimes we fed them. Old mistress had two peafowls roosted in the Colonial poplar trees. She had a pigeon house and a turkey house. I recken chicken and goose house, too. When company come you take em to see the farm, the garden, the new leather things jes' made and to see the little ducks, calves, and colts. Folks don't care bout seeing that now.

"The girls went to Florence to school. All I can recollect is them going off to school and I knowed it was Florence.

"The Yankees burned the big house. It was a fine house. Old mistress moved in the overseer's house. He was a white man. He moved somewhere else. The Yankees made raids and took 15 or 20 calves from her at one time. They set the tater house afire. They took the corn. Old mistress cried more on one time. The Yankees starved out more black faces than white at their stealing. After that war it was hard for the slaves to have a shelter and enough eatin' that winter. They died in piles bout after that August I tole you bout. Joe Innes was our overseer when the house burned.

"The Ku Klux come to my house twice. They couldn't get filled up wid water. They scared us to death. I heard a lot of things they done.

"I don't vote. I voted once in all my life fo some county officers.

"I been in Arkansas since February 5, 1880. I come to Little Cypress. I worked for Mr. Clark by the month, J.W. Crocton's place, Mr. Kitchen's place. I was brakeman on freight train awhile. I worked on the section. I farmed and worked in the timber. I don't have no children; I never been married. I wanted to work by the month all my life. I sells mats (shuck mats) $1.00 and I bottom chairs 50¢. The Social Welfare gives me $10.00. That is 10¢ a meal. That woman next door boards me--table board--for 50¢ a day. I make all I can outer fust one thing and another." (He is blind--cataracts.)

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: Emma Barr, Madison, Arkansas Age: 65

"My parents belong to two people. Mama was born in Mississippi I think and papa come from North Carolina. Papa's master was Lark Hickerson. Mama was sold from Dr. Ware to Dr. Pope. She was grown when she was sold. She was the mother of twenty-seven children. She had twins three times.

"During the Civil War she was run from the Yankees and had twins on the road. They died or was born dead and she nearly died. They was buried between twin trees close to Hernando, Mississippi. Her last owner was Dr. Pope, ten miles south of Augusta, Arkansas. I was born there and raised up three miles south of Augusta, Arkansas.

"When mama was sold she left her people in Mississippi but after freedom her sisters, Aunt Mariah and Aunt Mary, come here to mama. Aunt Mariah had no children. Aunt Mary had four boys, two girls. She brought her children. Mama said her husband when Dr. Ware owned her was Maxwell but she married my papa after Dr. Pope bought her.

"Dr. Ware had a fine man he bred his colored house women to. They didn't plough and do heavy work. He was hostler, looked after the stock and got in wood. The women hated him, and the men on the place done as well. They hated him too. My papa was a Hickerson. He was a shoemaker and waited on Dr. Pope. Dr. Pope and Miss Marie was good to my parents and to my auntees when they come out here.

"I am the onliest one of mama's children living. Mama was sold on the block and cried off I heard them say when they lived at Wares in Mississippi. Mama was a house girl, Aunt Mary cooked and my oldest sister put fire on the skillet and oven lids. That was her job.

"Mama was lighter than I am. She had Indian blood in her. One auntee was half white. She was lighter than I am, had straight hair; the other auntee was real dark. She spun and wove and knit socks. Mama said they had plenty to eat at both homes. Dr. Pope was good to her. Mama went to the white folks church to look after the babies. They took the babies and all the little children to church in them days.

"Mama said the preachers told the slaves to be good and bedient. The colored folks would meet up wid one another at preaching same as the white folks. I heard my auntees say when the Yankees come to the house the mistress would run give the house women their money and jewelry and soon as the Yankees leave they would come get it. That was at Wares in Mississippi.

"I heard them talk about slipping off and going to some house on the place and other places too and pray for freedom during the War. They turned an iron pot upside down in the room. When some mens' slaves was caught on another man's place he was allowed to whoop them and send them home and they would git another whooping. Some men wouldn't allow that; they said they would tend to their own slaves. So many men had to leave home to go to war times got slack.

"It was Judge Martin that owned my papa before he was freed. He lived close to Augusta, Arkansas. When he was freed he lived at Dr. Pope's. He was sold in North Carolina. Dr. Pope and Judge Martin told them they was free. Mama stayed on with Dr. Pope and he paid her. He never did whoop her. Mama told me all this. She died a few years ago. She was old. I never heard much about the Ku Klux. Mama was a good speller. I was a good speller at school and she learned with us. I spelled in Webster's Blue Back Speller.

"We children stayed around home till we married off. I nursed nearly all my life. Me and my husband farmed ten years. He died. I don't have a child. I wish I did have a girl. My cousin married us in the church. His name was Andrew Baccus.

"After my husband died I went to Coffeeville, Kansas and nursed an old invalid white woman three years, till she died. I come back here where I was knowed. I'm keeping this house for some people gone off. Part of the house is rented out and I get $8 and commodities. I been sick with the chills."

Interviewer: S.S. Taylor Person interviewed: Robert Barr 3108 West 18th St. Little Rock, Ark. Age: 73 Occupation: Preaching

[HW: A Preacher Tells His Story]

"I am a minister of the Gospel. I have been preaching for the last thirty years. I am batching here. A man does better to live by himself. Young people got the devil in them now a days. Your own children don't want you around.

"I got one grand-daughter that ain't never stood on the floor. Her husband kicked her and hit her and she ain't never been able to stand up since. I got another daughter that ain't thinking about marrying. She just goes from one man to the other.

"The government gives me a pension. The white folks help me all along. Before I preached, I fiddled, danced, shot craps, did anything.

"My mother was born in Chickasaw, Mississippi. She was born a slave. Old man Barr was her master. She was a Lucy Appelin and she married a Barr. I don't know whether she stood on the floor and married them as they do now or not. They tell me that they just gave them to them in those days. My mother said that they didn't know anything about marriage then. They had some sort of a way of doing. Ol' Massa would call them up and say, 'You take that man, and go ahead. You are man and wife.' I don't care whether you liked it or didn't. You had to go ahead. I heard em say: 'Nigger ain't no more'n a horse or cow,' But they got out from under that now. The world is growing more and more civilized. But when a nigger thinks he is something, he ain't nothin'. White folks got all the laws and regulations in their hands and they can do as they please. You surrender under em and go along and you are all right. If they told a woman to go to a man and she didn't, they would whip her. You didn't have your own way. They would make you do what they wanted. They'd give you a good beating too.

"My father was born in Mississippi. His name was Simon Barr. My mother and father both lived on the same plantation. In all groups of people they went by their master's name. Before she married, my mother's master and mistress were Appelins. When she got married--got ready to marry--the white folks agreed to let them go together. Old Man Barr must have paid something for her. According to my mother and father, that's the way it was. She had to leave her master and go with her husband's master.

"According to my old father and mother, the Patteroles went and got the niggers when they did something wrong. They lived during slave time. They had a rule and government over the colored and there you are. When they caught niggers out, they would beat them. If you'd run away, they'd go and get you and beat you and put you back. When they'd get on a nigger and beat him, the colored folks would holler, 'I pray, Massa.' They had to have a great war over it, before they freed the nigger. The Bible says there is a time for all things.