FOUR SLAVES INTERVIEWED by MAUDE BARRAGAN, EDITH BELL LOVE, RUBY LORRAINE RADFORD

1030 Brayton Street, Augusta, Ga., 1846.

Ellen Campbell lives in a little house in a garden behind a picket fence. Ellen is a sprightly, erect, black woman ninety years old. Beady little eyes sparkled behind her glasses as she talked to us. Her manner is alert, her mind is very keen and her memory of the old days very clear. Though the temperature was in the high nineties she wore two waists, and her clothes were clean and neatly patched. There was no headcloth covering the fuzzy grey wool that was braided into inumerable plaits.

She invited us into her tiny cabin. The little porch had recently been repaired, while the many flowers about the yard and porch gave evidence of constant and loving care to this place which had been bought for her long ago by a grandson who drove a "hack." When she took us into the crowded, but clean room, she showed us proudly the portrait of this big grandson, now dead. All the walls were thickly covered with framed pictures of different members of her family, most of whom are now dead. In their midst was a large picture of Abraham Lincoln.

"Dere's all my chillun. I had fo' daughter and three 'grands', but all gone now but one niece. I deeded de place to her. She live out north now, but she send back de money fer de taxes and insurance and to pay de firemens."

Then she proudly pointed out a framed picture of herself when she was young.

"Why Auntie, you were certainly nice looking then."

Her chest expanded and her manner became more sprightly as she said, "I wus de pebble on de beach den!"

"And I suppose you remember about slavery days?"

Yes ma'm, I'm ninety years old - I wus a grown 'oman when freedom come. I 'longed to Mr. William Eve. De plantachun was right back here - all dis land was fields den, slap down to Bolzes'."

"So you remember a lot aboty those times?"

She laughed delightedly. "Yas'm. I 'longed to Miss Eva Eve. My missus married Colonel Jones. He got a boy by her and de boy died."

"You mean Colonel Jones, the one who wrote books?"

"Yas'm. He a lawyer, too, down to de Cote House. My missus was Mrs. Carpenter's mother, but she didn't brought her here."

"You mean she was her step-mother?"

"Yas'm, dat it. I go to see dem folks on de hill sometime. Dey good to me, allus put somepen in mah hands."

"What kind of work did you do on the plantation?"

"When I wus 'bout ten years old dey started me totin' water --- you know ca'in water to de hands in de field. 'Bout two years later I got my first field job, 'tending sheep. When I wus fifteen my old Missus gib me to Miss Eva --- you know she de one marry Colonel Jones. My young missus wus fixin' to git married, but she couldn't on account de war, so she brought me to town and rented me out to a lady runnin' a boarding house. De rent was paid to my missus. One day I wus takin' a tray from de out-door kitchen to de house when I stumbled and dropped it. De food spill all over de ground. De lady got so mad she picked up a butcher knife and chop me in de haid. I went runnin' till I come to de place where my white folks live. Miss Eva took me and wash de blood out mah head and put medicine on it, and she wrote a note to de lady and she say, 'Ellen is my slave, give to me by my mother. I wouldn't had dis happen to her no more dan to me. She won't come back dere no more.'"

Were you ever sold during slavery times, Aunt Ellen?"

"No'm. I wa'nt sold, but I knows dem whut wus. Jedge Robinson he kept de nigger trade office over in Hamburg."

"Oh yes, I remember the old brick building."

"Yas'm, dat it. Well, all de colored people whut gonner be sold was kept dere. Den dey brung 'em over to de market and put 'em up far sale. Any body fixin' to buy 'em, 'zamines 'em to see if dey all right. Looks at de teef to tell 'bout de age."

And was your master good to you, Anntie?"

"I'll say dis fer Mr. William Evs --- he de bes' white man anywhere round here on any dese plantachuns. Dey all own slaves. My boss would feed'em well. He wus killin' hogs stidy fum Jinury to Karch. He had two smoke-houses. Dere wus four cows. At night de folks on one side de row o' cabins go wid de piggins fer milk, and in de mawnin's dose on de odder side go fer de piggins o' milk."

"And did you have plenty of other things to eat?"

"Law, yas'm. Rations wus given out to de slaves; meal, meat and jugs o' syrup. Dey give us white flour at Christmas. Every slave family had de garden patch, and chickens. Marstar buy eggs and chickens fum us at market prices."

"Did the overseers ever whip the slaves or treat them cruelly?"

"Sometimes dey whup 'em --- make 'em strip off dey shirt and whup 'em on de bare skin. My boss had a white overseer and two colored man dey call drivers. If dey didn't done right dey dus whup you and turn you loose."

Did the Eves have a house on the plantation, too?"

"No'm, dey live in town, and he come back and fo'th every day. It warn't but three miles. De road run right fru de plantachun, and everybody drive fru it had to pay toll. Dat toll gate wus on de D'Laigle plantachun. Dey built a house fer Miss Kitty Bowles down by de double gate where dey had to pay de toll. Dat road where de Savannah Road is."

When asked about war times on the plantation Ellen recalled that when the Northern troops were around Waynesboro orders were sent to all the masters of the nearby plantations to send ten of their best men to build breastworks to hold back the northern advance.

"Do you remember anything about the good times or weddings on the plantation?"

She laughed delightedly. "Yas'm." When anybody gwins be married dey tell de boss and he have a cake fix. Den when Sunday come, atter dey be married, she put on de white dress she be married in and dey go up to town so de boss see de young couple."

"Den sometimes on Sadday night we have a big frolic. De nigger from Hammond's place and Phinizy place, Eve place, Clayton place, D'Laigle place all git togedder fer big dance and frolic. A lot o' de young white sports used to come dere and pash de nigger bucks aside and dance wid de wenches.

"What happened, Auntie, if a slave from one plantation wanted to merry a slave from another?"

She laughed significantly. "Planty. Old Mr. Miller had a man name Jolly and he wanner marry a woman off anunder plantachun, but Jolly's Marster wanna buy de woman to come to de plantachun. He say, 'What's fair fer de goose is fair fer de gander.' When dey couldn't come to no 'greement de men he run away to de woods. Den dey abt de bloodhounds on 'im. Dey let down de rail fence so de hounds could git fru. Dey sarch de woods and de swamps fer Jolly but dey neber find him.

De slaves dey know whar he is, and de woman she visit Mim. He had a den down dere and plenty o' grub dey take 'im, but de white folks neber find him. Five hundred dollars wus what Miller put out for whomsover git him."

"And you say the woman went to visit him?"

"Yes, ma'm. De woman would go dere in de woods wid him. Finally one night when he was outer de swamp he had to lie hidin' in de ditch all night, cross from de nigger hospital. Den somebody crep' up and shot him, but he didn't die den. Dey ca'yed his crost to de hospital and he die three days later."

"What about church? Did you go to church in those days?"

"Yas'm, we used to go to town. But de padderolas wus ridin' in dem days, and you couldn't go off de plantachun widout a pass. So my boss he build a brick church on de plantachun, and de D'Laigles build a church on dere's."

"What happened if they caught you off without a pass?"

"If you had no pass dey ca'y you to de Cote House, and your Harster hadder come git you out."

"Do you remember anything about the Yankees coming to this part of the country?"

At this her manner became quite sprightly, as she replied, "Yas'm, I seen 'em comin' down de street. Every one had er canteen on he side, a blanket on his shoulder, caps cocked on one side de haid. De cavalry had boots on and spurros on de boots. First dey sot de niggers free on Dead River, den dey come on here to sot us free. Dey march straight up Broad Street to de Planters' Hotel, den dey camped on Dead River, den dey camped on de river. Dey stayed here six months till dey sot dis place free. When dey campin' on de river bank we go down dere and wash dey clo'es fer a good price. Dey had hard tack to eat. Dey gib us de hard tack and tell us to soak it in water, and fry it in de meat gravy. I ain't taste nothing so good since. Dey say, 'Dis hard tack whut we hadder lib on whils we fightin' to sot you free.'"

The collection contains over 20,000 pages of type-scripted interviews with more than 3,500 former slaves, collected over a ten-year period. In 1929, an effort began at Fisk University in Tennessee and Southern University in Louisiana to document the life stories of these former slaves. Kentucky State College continued the work in 1934 and from 1936-1939, the Federal Writer's Project (a federal work project that was a part of The New Deal) launched a coordinated national effort to collect narratives from former slaves.