In cases where the master had confidence in his slaves, and they in turn had confidence in him, both got along agreeably.
So that the point I wish to make is, that with few exceptions, a good master made good slaves, intelligent, industrious and trustworthy, while on the other hand, a mean and cruel master made shiftless, careless, and indolent slaves, who, being used to the lash as a remedy for every offence, had no fears of it, and would not go without it. Some people assert that long-continued ill-treatment had taken all the spirit of manhood out of this class of slaves, and that it will take generations of schooling and contact with intelligent people to instill into them the spirit of manhood, self-respect, and correct ideas of morality.
Admitting this to be true, I believe it is as much the duty of the American white people to extend the necessary aid to these unfortunate people, as it is the duty of the better class among us, (the colored people), to do this work of uplifting them.
I recently visited my old home in Prince Edward County, Virginia, after an absence of forty-four years, and was greatly surprised at the changes which had taken place during that period. I had much trouble to find farms which I had knowledge of, because I remembered them only by the names they were called by in 1849. The owners of them had died or moved away and others had acquired the lands, changing the names of them, while other farms had been deserted and allowed to grow up in forests, so that with a few exceptions the country for miles in every direction was an unbroken forest of young trees.
Among the many notable changes which have taken place in this part of the State since 1849, are two or three to which my attention was particularly directed. The first is the entire change in the method of travel and transportation of freight and produce between Richmond, the western portion of the State and the Southern States.
The entire absence of the large number of six-horse teams, in charge of a colored driver and a water boy, that used to pass up and down the public road, which ran in front of our old home, and which extended from Richmond to the Blue Ridge Mountains, was quite noticeable, because that was the principal method by which freight and produce were carried.
That system of travel and transportation has been superseded by railroads, and goods are now delivered by the Richmond & Danville inside of three days after purchase, to any place on that railroad within two or three hundred miles. This railroad now runs parallel with the old public road from Richmond to the Blue Ridge Mountains and the South, and has entirely usurped the trade formerly monopolized by the old six-horse team system.
Very vividly do I recall the many six-horse teams which used to pass daily up and down that old road with their great loads of corn, wheat and tobacco, and return loaded with drygoods and groceries for the country merchants. I have seen as many as twenty of these teams pass our old home in one day. The teamsters, though slaves, were absolutely reliable and therefore, were intrusted with taking orders and produce from country storekeepers to the wholesale merchants in Richmond and on their return they would bring back the drygoods and groceries that had been ordered by the country dealers living along the road. Usually these wagoners went in squads of four or five and camped at the same camping grounds. The owners of these teams would come along about once a month paying and collecting bills.
These great wagons, covered with white canvas to protect the freight they bore, sometimes carrying from seven to ten thousand pounds and each drawn by six fine blooded horses, made to me at least, a grand and impressive picture, as the procession moved along the old road in front of our place. This picture was heightened by the picturesqueness of the colored driver in charge and his peculiar and characteristic dress. As he rode along on the saddle horse of the team he seemed conscious of the great responsibility resting upon his shoulders, and to the simple-minded colored people along the road he was simply an uncrowned king. When the wagons stopped at the camping grounds, located at regular intervals along the road, the colored people of the neighborhood flocked around to get a glimpse of this great man.
Although the freight was very valuable sometimes and often carried great distances, robbing or molesting these trains was something unheard of. They were perfectly secure while on the move or in camp, even in the most sparsely settled districts, because there were no robbers or gangs of thieves organized in those days to plunder passing teams. It is quite doubtful whether the same would be true nowadays if a return to the old method of transportation was resorted to.
The country merchants in those days were contented and happy, I suppose, to be able to get their orders filled and goods delivered inside of from thirty to ninety days.
This great public highway, which was kept in such splendid condition in 1849 and prior thereto, and which had so many beautiful camping grounds where wood and water were convenient and not far apart, with little villages every ten or fifteen miles, where there were inns for travellers to rest and feed their horses has become a thing of the past along with that old system of travel and transportation. I have seen many men, called travelers in those days, pass over that old road going to, or from the South or West on horseback, with large saddlebags strapped behind them armed with a horse pistol, which was about twenty inches long and as large as an old flint musket. Usually they carried a pair of these pistols hanging down in front of them, one on each side of the horse’s neck.
That was the usual way of travel in those days when persons wished to go a long distance, particularly to the West or South. Signs of this old road can yet be seen in places, but the road has been almost deserted, and has grown up in forest.
In front of our old place, and in fact from Miller’s Store, a little village with a post-office, to Scofields, a similar place, a distance of ten miles, that old road was nearly on a straight line, was broad and almost level, and was the pride of that community; but when I saw it in July, 1893, and attempted with a horse and buggy to pass over it for a distance of a few miles I found it impassable. From John Queensbury’s Public Inn and Camping ground to our old home, a distance of three miles the old road has been entirely obliterated.
This road was kept in such a fine condition up to 1849 that many tobacco raisers used to put rollers around one or two hogs heads of tobacco, weighing about a thousand pounds each, then attach a pair of shafts and with a single horse draw them to Richmond, a distance of sixty miles.
I readily recall many different kinds of travel and trade which once thrived on this public highway. Richmond at that date being a great pork market and the most convenient one for the pork raisers of West Virginia and the Eastern portion of Kentucky, and this old public highway being the most direct route for travel from the West to Richmond, these hog raisers, in order to reach a market for their hogs, were compelled to drive them on foot over the road a distance of over two hundred miles. I have seen as many as three hundred hogs in one drove pass our old home in one day going towards Richmond. Usually these hog drivers brought along several wagon loads of corn to feed their hogs while en route. They could and did travel from ten to twelve miles a day, and from early fall to spring each year many thousand hogs were driven into Richmond over this public highway.
Besides supplying Richmond with pork, which in turn, furnished other places, especially in the South, these hog raisers sold hogs to planters on the road, who had failed to raise enough pork for home consumption. Pork was the principal meat diet at that time for both white and black, there being few sheep or beef cattle killed for table use, and then always for the table of the master classes.
To advise a farmer now living in West Virginia or Eastern Kentucky, who owns a hundred head of marketable hogs, to drive them two hundred miles to market, as his father had done, would be considered by him very foolish advice. But such was the only way of transportation of that kind of product prior to the year 1849, of which the writer has personal recollections.
These cases mentioned show clearly what railroads have done, not only for Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee, but the whole country and especially the Southern portion of it.
Richmond was also the principal slave market and this public highway the most direct route to the Southern cotton fields, especially those of Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Tennessee, and Negro traders passed over it many times each year with gangs of slaves bought at the public auction block in Richmond. I have seen many gangs of slaves driven over this old road. Usually, the slave men were handcuffed together with long chains between them extending the whole length of the gang, which contained as many as forty, sometimes, or twenty on each side of the chain marching in line. The women and small boys were allowed to walk unchained in the line while the children and the lame and those who were sick rode in wagons. The entire caravan would be under the charge of the owner and a guard of four or five poor white men armed each with a rawhide whip, with which to urge the gang along and to keep them in line or at least in the road.
It was not the custom, neither was it to the owner’s interest, to treat these slaves brutally, for, like mules brought up to be carried to a better market, or where larger prices prevailed, it was absolutely necessary that they should not show any signs of ill-treatment; and I cannot recall ever having seen the punishment of one of them. Of course these Negro traders could not allow grown men to march in line unchained, particularly those who did not want to go, because they might become unmanageable, run away, and escape capture, thus causing the loss of the price paid for them, or at least give considerable trouble. As a general rule, many of these slave men were sold in the first place on account of insubordination—had resisted their masters, or had beaten their overseers, and such slaves were considered by their owners dangerous fellows on the farm with others, especially young men who might follow such examples. Then again many slaves were sold because they had committed murder or some other crime not deserving the death penalty, and there were no penitentiaries for slaves.
These and many other recollections of my early life crowded upon me as I looked upon the old familiar scenes. The absence of familiar faces was no less remarkable than the changes in lands and improvements, for I found only one man I had seen before. There were two others whom I knew in that vicinity and who had never left it, but I failed to find them at their homes. I visited the home of Mrs. Sarah Perkinson, widow of Lemuel Perkinson, mentioned in a previous chapter, but did not see her, as she had left a few days prior on a visit to relatives in North Carolina. I was really sorry I did not see her, for I could have obtained much valuable information from her, as she had remained in that community ever since the year 1849, and could have given me an interesting history of past events. She still owns the old Perkinson farm consisting of about two thousand acres. The old frame mansion which was built before 1841 was still there and in a fair state of preservation, and without any apparent change since I last saw it forty-four years ago. I found old man, Major Perkinson, one of Mrs. Perkinson’s former slaves, occupying the Great House and tilling the land. There were about fifty acres under cultivation; the balance had grown wild. The old Major who is now ninety years of age and quite active, remembered me very well and proceeded to treat me like a southern gentleman of the old school would have done. I next visited our old home which was one mile away. Here I found the great house, also a frame building, built in the summer of 1842, in a good state of preservation, and as I went through every room I am sure that there had been but little change in its structure. I also visited the spot where my mother’s cabin stood, and then how forcibly those lines of the poet touched my mind, “Childhood days now pass before me, forms and scenes of long ago,” etc. The quarters for the colored people had disappeared here as well as those at Mrs. Perkinson’s place. This place is now owned by a Yankee lady in New York, and of the six hundred acres under fence when we left it in 1849, only four acres are now in use, the balance having grown up in forest.
I visited several places of interest, and among them was Green Bay, about two miles north of our old home. Here I met Mr. Thomas Rowlett, the station agent, and one, Mr. Scott, and a merchant named Richardson, whose father I remembered. All three of these men are direct descendants of the “Blue Bloods,” and I found them still defending the right. I was greatly impressed by a remark made by Mr. Richardson; he said, “We are now, and will be for the next twenty years, suffering from the curse of slavery; it cursed the slave, it cursed his master, it cursed the land.” He then called attention to the thousands of acres gone wild, too poor to produce anything, and the owners were unable to bring them to a rentable condition, and the colored people could not make a living on them and of course, left the country in search of work. He said one could buy land anywhere in that community for three dollars per acre. Of course it will cost at least ten dollars more to bring it up to a fair state of cultivation. When I saw these fine lands in 1849, tilled by slave labor, and kept in the very highest state of cultivation, and on which splendid crops of tobacco, corn and wheat were raised, I could not have realized that in the space of forty-four years these same lands would be a wilderness, the owners scattered, and even the former slaves gone. But so it is, and the names of the people who owned them forgotten. The only men I found who had remained and retained not only the old master’s name, but the farm as well, were the Scotts, consisting of the father, two sons, Charles and Thomas, and a daughter, Mrs. Lefere. They had acquired the old homesteads of their old masters in each case and occupied the great house built of brick over sixty years ago, and still in good condition. These farms were adjoining each other and located on the Pike Road leading to Farmville, and near Sandy River Church. I remembered these farms and the Scotts very well, and also the church where my master used to go to worship quite often, and allowed his slaves to go occasionally on Saturday afternoon. Why I recall this so vividly is, because Sandy River was a clear deep stream with an abundance of fish, and while the older ones attended divine service I went fishing.
The Scotts, Col. Scott, Charles and Thomas A. Scott, brothers, were considered the most aristocratic people in that community, and owned quite a large number of slaves and treated them humanely, a fact which the father of the Scotts now owning the lands will testify to. Old masters are dead, and their children, having sold the old farms and scattered, their former slaves now own these estates and are industrious and thrifty farmers. They had the best crops I saw in that country, with good stock in splendid condition. I found the wife of Thomas Scott and Mrs. Lefere splendid housekeepers and entertained as none but Virginia ladies can. Each had one or more grown daughters, well educated, refined, and very pretty girls. I confess my surprise at finding such intelligent and fashionably dressed girls in that community.
It is encouraging to note the advancement made upon the stronghold of ignorance, superstition and voodooism by the Colored people, since their emancipation from the bonds of slavery, and especially is this so to those who remember the time when a large majority of them believed strongly in all kinds of superstition, voodooism, gophering, tricking and conjuring.
I readily recall many instances wherein they were fleeced out of their little valuables or money by professional humbugs, known as conjurors, who succeeded in duping their fellow-slaves so successfully, and to such an extent, that they believed and feared them almost beyond their masters. I have known of cases where these conjurors held whole neighborhoods, as it were, in such mortal fear, that they could do unto the Colored people anything they desired, without the least fear of them telling their masters. These conjurors made all kinds of boasts and threats, as to what they could and would do to anyone who dared to interfere with them, or even dispute their word, or question their ability to carry out what they claimed to be able to do.
These conjurors claimed to be able to do almost anything in the line of impossibilities, even to taking life by the winking of their eye, to make a master be kind to a slave, to prevent him from selling one, even if he desired to do so, to make a girl love a man, whether she desired him or not, to make a man love and even marry a woman if she desired him.
For a stipulated sum paid them, they would give what was called “a hand or a jack,” which they claimed would enable the holder to accomplish what he desired, and at the same time protect him from all harm, provided always, that the holder had faith and followed instructions.
These conjurors claimed to be able to bury a hand or a jack under the master’s door step, which would prevent him from whipping a particular slave while it was there. Of course, if that particular slave got whipped, and so reported to the old conjuror, he would promptly claim one of three things, either that someone had removed the jack, or that the fellow had failed to carry out instructions, or had no faith in the jack, and therefore was deserving of punishment.
These conjurors claimed to be able to put pain, or even permanent disability upon any one they desired, and could remove the trick put on by another conjuror, could cause live scorpions to appear under the skin of persons, and could take out those put there by other conjurors. They claimed that nearly every pain or ache was the result of conjuration, and the one sent for could take it off. To show to what extent these people believed in voodooism, and could be fleeced, I will relate a story told me by Ike Cabel, of Brunswick, Mo. He said he was out with a surveying party about the year 1852, and camped near a large plantation in Louisiana. He gave it out among the slaves that he was a conjuror, and soon thereafter his camp was besieged every night by slaves with all kinds of aches and pains, which he cured with red clay, oak leaves and salt boiled, and collected fifty cents from each. A man came one night claiming that he had a scorpion in his leg, and that he felt it running up and down the leg. He told the man to come the next night, which he did. The next day he wanted a live scorpion, and being afraid of it himself, he got two young white men of the party to catch one for him, promising them one-half he was to receive for the job, and of course, let them into the secret. They captured a scorpion, wrapped it up carefully in brown paper, so that it could not escape or bite, and delivered it to Ike.
After rubbing the man’s leg for a while with his other trick medicine with one hand, carefully holding his little animal in the other, and when ready for the final act, he looked heavenward, and in a loud voice commanded the scorpion to come out of the man’s leg. Then in a few seconds he informed his dupe that the animal had come, and at the same time, and by a quick motion, freed the scorpion and brushed it from the leg to the floor, when the freed scorpion attempted to escape, and was killed and carried away by the patient after paying the three dollars.
Now it would have been a hard job to convince that poor, innocent, unsuspecting man, that he did not have a live scorpion taken from his leg. His imagination was cured, and he was satisfied, and spread the news far and wide of his wonderful cure.
It is claimed that the way scorpions and other little poisonous animals or insects are gotten into the body is through whiskey. That the little scorpion is killed and laid out to dry, and when thoroughly dried is beaten into dust, and the dust put into a bottle of whiskey, and in a short time after being drank will reproduce itself, whatever it is, under the skin of the drinker. At any rate, I remember that conjurors were never asked for a drink of whiskey, and people were always afraid to take a drink from some men’s bottle until the owner had drank first, “to take the poison off.”
These conjurors practiced with different kinds of roots, seeds, barks, insects, and other strange ingredients, but polk root and green planten were among their principal remedies to take off a trick or a pain. Of course they had some queer ways of mixing things to make it appear mysterious. A poultice made of polk root is said to be a good remedy for rheumatism, and these conjurors probably knew that, and put in the poultice a few harmless things to make it appear strange, and if the rheumatic pain was removed, they would claim that they had taken off a trick put there by some conjuror. Of course different conjurors have different jacks and different “hands,” but the two I saw were composed of hog-bristles, old horse shoe nails, a little red clay, salt, red pepper, red oak leaves, soaked in vinegar, then wrapped in a roll about three inches long and one inch thick, and tied with a yarn string very tightly. There is a peculiar lingo to accompany the “jack,” and it varies according to requirements.
To show how thoroughly these people believed in conjurors, and to what extent they could be imposed upon by them, I will relate one more instance, which was told me by an old lady whose word I cannot doubt, and whom I have known for these many years, but to honor and cheer. She said that she belonged to one of two brothers living on adjoining farms in Amelia County, Va., prior to the year 1830, and that one of them was a bachelor and the other a widower, and that they loved each other dearly. That they owned about thirty slaves each, and that one of them decided to break up and take his slaves to Alabama, and made all arrangements to do so. When the day came to start, he gave the order to load the wagons and hitch up the horses, which was done, and that they remained standing, as did the slaves, until late in the afternoon, when the master came to the front door and gave orders to unload and unhitch the teams, and for the slaves to go to his brother’s field to work. On the next day he left on horseback in company with another man bound for Alabama.
She said that many of his slaves did not want to go, and hearing of a great conjuror living ten miles away, made up a purse and sent for him. He came the night previous to the time set for starting to Alabama. My informant says, that he told them upon his arrival, that they had waited too long in sending for him, that if they had sent for him earlier he could have stopped all, but now he could only stop the slaves from going, and even that would depend on whether the master walked over a “hand,” which he was going to put under the front door steps. She says the old conjuror went to the front door steps of the great house about twelve o’clock that night, dug a small hole under the ground step, took from his pocket a little ball, talked to it a while in a whisper, then kissed it and put it in the hole, and covered it carefully and came away. That the slaves, she among them, watched the old master next morning, until they saw him come down the steps and walk around a while, then go back over this particular step. That they were then satisfied that the old master could not take them anywhere, and he did not.
I was never able to convince my dear old lady friend that all conjurors were humbugs, and this one was among them, and that it was purely a matter of chance so far as he was concerned. I do not want it understood that these conjurors were believed in by all Colored people, for there were a large number of intelligent ones, who paid no attention to conjurors, even defied them, told them that they were humbugs and liars. These conjurors were a shrewd set of fellows, and on that account alone were enabled to fool the less informed. They were industrious, and hard working, and faithful servants, and of course received no punishment, and were keen enough to point to this fact as evidence of the power of their jack in keeping their master under control, when, as a matter of fact, it was their faithful service alone that protected them from the lash.
There have been cases where Colored people took sick from some cause, and imagined themselves tricked or poisoned by some one, and the white doctor, unable to do them any good, gave up the case, and the patients, believing themselves poisoned and therefore incurable, have died, when they might have been saved, if the white doctor had only thought for a moment, and instead of giving up the case, announced himself a conjuror, and proceeded to doctor his patient’s mind.
Superstition in some form has always existed, especially among illiterate people, regardless of color, and the more illiterate the greater the amount of superstition, and as a case of strong evidence of this, I point to the “spirit dance” by the Indians of the far West, where the excitement created by it has been so great, that an uprising was only kept down by the vigilance of the regular army. While conjuring, tricking and gophering, and the like, were believed in by the slaves, and spirit dances and other forms of superstition were practiced by the Indians, the American white people believed as strongly in another form of superstition called “witch craft,” that they burnt innocent men and women at the stake.
In order to show that education and intelligence are the great powers which have been the means of dispelling the gloom of superstition and voodooism among the Colored people especially, I will state that the Colored people of Missouri, particularly those of Chariton, Howard, Carroll and Randolph counties, were above the ordinary slaves in the more extreme Southern states in intelligence and education, and did not believe in voodooism or conjuration nearly as much as those in old Virginia, and when one was brought to Missouri who claimed to be able to exercise those miraculous powers, he was immediately laughed at and openly defied by all excepting a few of the more illiterate. I recall one instance where a man named Magruder, who owned about forty slaves, which he brought to Brunswick, Missouri, from Virginia, and bought land near the town and settled thereon. Among his slaves was an old, whiteheaded, crippled man, known as a conjuror. He claimed to be able to do many mysterious and impossible things, and among those who belonged to his master he was believed and feared, but the Colored people in that vicinity laughed at him, defied his threats, and denounced him as an old humbug, for in truth such he was, and when those who believed in him saw him defied and denounced, and his inability to carry out his threats, they took courage and denounced him too. When he saw his business assailed and himself defied, with no more opportunity to gull the people, he gave it out that his favorite plants and roots did not grow or could not be found in that country, and that alone was the reason why he could not practice his profession. The truth of the matter was, that the Colored people in that state were more intelligent than those from whence he came, and therefore could not be easily humbugged.
After having traveled over the rich lands of the Western Country, where fine crops were raised without much effort, and especially without any fertilizer, our master could not be content to remain in the poor, hilly, rocky state of Virginia, and determined to go to Mississippi, where his sister, Mrs. Susan Green then lived. So, about October, 1849, having sold the old farm he started with his slaves.
On this occasion there was a separation of man and wife. Eight or ten months previously, my sister Eliza had been married to a man named Tom, belonging to Nathan Fulks, who claimed inability to buy my sister, and her owner said he did not have the cash to spare to buy Tom, but offered to take him along and pay hire for him, which his master refused, and thus they were separated forever. She married again after six or seven years, but I never heard of Tom afterward.
While en route to Mississippi, Uncle Walt, before mentioned, was taken sick with some kind of a fever and had to be left for better care and treatment near the line of Virginia and Tennessee. His wife, Aunt Martha, did not want to be separated from him and was left, too. I have been informed recently that they were sold to the man with whom they were left. I remember when we lived in adjoining cabins that they were very quarrelsome people, and did not want their son Isaac to play with me, because, they said, I was a “yarler nigger.” I may have been a bad boy at that time and am not now prepared to say that I was not, but they used to treat me meanly in every possible way, and I often sauced them and ran when they got after me. I remember that I was wicked enough to be glad when they were left or sold, because they, particularly Aunt Martha, were always trying to raise trouble about something.
With one exception our master then owned only my mother and her children. By the first of December, 1849, we had reached the Greene plantation, located about fifteen miles from Holly Springs, Mississippi, which was a very large one and tilled by about three hundred slaves in charge of a very mean overseer.
The day after our arrival at this place, those old enough to pick cotton were sent to the field, and this was my first experience in cotton-picking. We were called up by the overseer by means of a horn, ate breakfast and were in the field by daylight, sometimes, before it was light enough to see the cotton balls, and kept steadily at work till noon, when dinner was brought to us on large trays and the order given by the overseer to eat. We sat down right there, and as soon as the last mouthful was swallowed the order was given to go to work. We were given good, wholesome food and plenty of it, only the time was so short in which to eat it. From noon until dark we were driven by the overseer who carried a long whip called a blacksnake.
At dark, the females were allowed to go to their quarters, but the men and boys were divided into squads of five; each had a bale of cotton to turn out. Gins run by mules had been going all day, making lint cotton which had to be put in bales, and each bale had to stand under the press about twenty minutes, so that the last squad seldom got through earlier than nine o’clock; and this went on each day except Sunday.
Mr. Greene ran a large cooking establishment, so that when the work of the day was over supper was ready for all, and the horn was blown for breakfast an hour before daylight.
We remained here until January 1, 1850, when we were hired to Thomas Greene, a son of Mr. Greene, living about eight miles away. We got along without any punishment, while at old man Greene’s plantation, but I saw others whipped. It has occurred to me since that our owner had something to do with this, for he was opposed to brutal treatment generally. He had hired us out for a year, but in March of that year he had become so dissatisfied with that country that he determined to leave it and go back to Missouri.
Slave owners, even Mississippians, were not all brutal. This was especially true of young Thomas Greene and his wife who were very good people. There was also a man named Cox, near by, who owned about four hundred slaves whom he treated very well. He gave them good quarters and built a church on his place and hired a white preacher to preach the gospel to them every Sunday, and compelled each slave to attend. He gave each man the use of an acre of land, and every Saturday afternoon to cultivate it. One acre, well cultivated, would yield a bale of cotton which Mr. Cox would sell for them and buy whatever little things they might want, especially such as were not furnished by him. Usually this would be nice Sunday clothes, shoes, hats and Sunday wear for the women. I wish to state that Mr. Cox gave a half day every Saturday to all of his slaves, and I state this from personal knowledge, having visited the Cox plantation many times and played with the boys and girls thereon.
There was also a large plantation south of the Greene place, but the owner’s name I cannot recall. He owned a large number of slaves and I was told was kind to them, but I remember that he allowed no visitors on his place, neither did he allow any of his slaves to get outside of his fence at any time. He had some very pretty girls about my age, and we met and talked with the fence between us, on Sunday afternoon.
A near neighbor’s cattle used to break into the field and destroy corn and other grain on Green’s plantation and I had to drive them out, and in doing so threw a brick which broke the leg of one of them. The owner of it came over very soon and wanted to whip me for doing it, and I supposed would have done so, as he was a very large man, but Mr. Greene came to my rescue, ordered him off the place and told him, “If you whip the boy, I will whip you.” He left, threatening to whip me the first time he caught me off Mr. Greene’s land. I never went on this neighbor’s land after that.
Having hired us out for a year, our master could not rightfully claim us until the end of the time specified in the contract, unless he would give the time we had served from January to March free, which he agreed to do, and once more we were in his possession. I am unable to express the joy we felt when he informed us of his intention to take us back to Missouri. That was a great blessing to us, and the older ones thanked the Lord for this deliverance. He came to our quarters one Sunday afternoon and gave us this very welcome news, and I remember that we were so overjoyed that we could not sleep that night. He got started about April 1, 1850. Having sold his teams when we reached Mississippi, our owner had to hire Mr. Greene’s team to haul us to Memphis, Tennessee, where we took steamer bound for St. Louis, and thence to Brunswick, Missouri. The trip was a pleasant one and made in less than ten days.
There was much rejoicing when we were landed at Brunswick, and were met at the levee by W. B. Bruce, with a conveyance to take us out to his plantation, were we met old acquaintances, including my brother and sister, who also belonged to him. We were once more in the state we loved and intent on remaining whether our master liked it or not, for he had brought us where it was not so easy to take slaves about without their consent, and besides some had become men.
I recall that one Sunday, about two years afterwards, our master sent for the four men of us to meet him at the home of W. B Bruce. We did so and he informed us that he had about made up his mind to take us all to Texas. My older brothers, James and Calvin, told him they would not go and I joined in. He got angry and ordered us to “shut up,” which we did. He then told us to come back next Sunday, when he would tell us what to depend on, which was done and then, after seeing how bitterly his plans were opposed by us he informed us that he would buy land and settle in that country, which he did within two years.
After resting a few days upon our arrival at Mr. Bruce’s from Mississippi, we were all hired to one J. B. Barrett, a tobacconist. My sisters were hired out as house girls and mother as cook to a man named Treadway, a school teacher, who was a mean man, not only to her, but to his wife as well. I don’t think he ever struck my mother, but he abused her in every other way possible. His wife was a good woman and treated mother humanely, but old Treadway was so mean that he would not allow any of mother’s children to come to his kitchen to see her at any time, and in order to see her we used to wait until he was in bed, and then steal in. I don’t think mother stayed there longer than that year.
The next two years she was hired to J. B. Barrett, who allowed his wife to manage the household affairs to suit herself, and as she was a very good woman and mother a good cook they got along splendidly, and Mrs. Barrett was well pleased with mother’s style of cooking.
J. B. Barrett hired six of us for three years, and although he was a noisy kind of man, cursed a good deal and threatened to whip or have it done by his overseer, one Jesse Hare, he seldom punished anyone, especially those who were grown. I worked for him from June 1850, to January 1, 1854, and was whipped only once and that for fighting another fellow who had struck my younger brother, B. K. Bruce. This man, Charles Sanders, was a grown man at that time and I was an eighteen year old boy, yet I beat him so badly that he was disabled for work, at least two months thereafter. Knowing so well what would follow after this fight, I ran to the woods and made my way to my owner, about four miles distant. But that did not save me for the overseer came after me, and after I had made my statement my owner’s answer was, “You knew better than to fight and you will be whipped, and I will do nothing to prevent it.” I wanted him to pay my fine and save me. He came to town with me, and in the presence of J. B. Barrett and himself I was whipped by old Jesse Hare, who did not like me and took this opportunity to lay the lash on very hard, but was promptly stopped by J. B Barrett and severely reprimanded for his brutality.
This man Hare disliked me any way, because of an old score, for previous to that he had attempted to flog me and I resisted, and threatened to go to my master. But I doubt very much, even now, whether he would have protected me in such a case, for he was so bitterly opposed to a slave’s resisting or being saucy to a white man.
After the factory closed in the fall of 1853, I was hired out by J. B Barrett to a poor white man, named David Hampton, and had not been with him more than a month when one of his boys sauced me and I slapped him. He ran to his father who called me to him, ordered me to take off my shirt, a thing neither my master nor any other man had ordered me to do. Of course I refused to obey and told him so in language which he understood. He then threw a stick of cordwood at me which missed its mark, and I picked it up and was about to throw it back, when he ran into the house. This ended our fight. I would be ashamed of myself, even now, had I allowed that poor white man to whip me. But the fun came later. When supper was called, the old man and his wife had eaten and left the table, and the children, two girls and three small boys and I ate together. Just as I finished and was about to leave the table, the old lady came in behind me with a hickory switch in hand. I could not afford to resist her, neither could I get out until she had given me several severe blows. She left her marks on me, which I carried for several days, and I suppose she was satisfied; I know I was.
But after all, the Hamptons were very reasonable people and I was well pleased with them, and often visited them afterward. While they were poor people they were not the typical poor whites. Many of the parties mentioned are living and can take me to task if I misrepresent facts; but I have stated the truth in every particular, as I saw and experienced it.
There was a trait of character running through my mother’s family, a desire to learn, and every member could read very well when the war broke out, and some could write. The older ones would teach the younger, and while mother had no education at all, she used to make the younger study the lessons given by the older sister or brother, and in that way they all learned to read. Another advantage we enjoyed was this: we were all hired to the same man and we worked and slept together in the same factory where, by hard work, we usually made some little money every week, which we could spend for whatever suited our fancy.
The men who hired slaves, and owners as well, had to feed and clothe them, and the slaves had no care as to those necessaries. Slavery in some portions of Missouri was not what it was in Virginia, or in the extreme South, because we could buy any book wanted if we had the money to pay for it, and masters seemed not to care about it, especially ours, but of course there were exceptions to the rule.
But, returning to my life in the tobacco factory, I must state that when we were hired out our owner notified the hirer that he did not whip any of his grown slaves, and would not allow it to be done by anyone else, and when the man who hired them found that he could not get along without punishing he should return them to him. That was the saving clause for us, but we did not take advantage of this to shirk or play; as proof of this I will state that there are men now living in Brunswick, who will bear testimony to the fact that the “Bruce hands,” as we were called, brought the highest prices. Our master received from two hundred and fifty to three hundred dollars a year for each man or boy over seventeen years old, the hirer to feed and clothe us, etc.
When the factory closed in September, 1854, I was hired to Charles Cabel, a farmer, recently from Louisiana, living about four miles from town and who owned twenty-five or thirty slaves, and was reported to be a very hard master. I had been used to good fare, and that prepared and served clean and nice, but here the meals were served in such unclean vessels, while they may have been wholesome, I could not and would not eat them. W. B. Bruce lived only a mile away, and I went there to supper, stayed all night, took my breakfast and dinner with me to work.
In a few days Mrs. Susan Cabel found this out and sent for me; I explained and she said that her Negroes were so very dirty that she did not blame me, and from that date she sent my meals from her table, which came in nice clean dishes and in abundance. She was a good mistress as far as I knew.
Mr. Cabel had a very large number of lazy slaves and often inflicted punishment when, in my opinion, it might have been avoided. After I had been at his place about ten days he sent me with another fellow named Ike to split rails in a large body of timber north of his house. We had been at this work but a very short time, when I discovered Ike to be a lazy man. I had never been thrashed on account of laziness and did not want to chance it at that time, knowing the reputation of Mr. Cabel as a hard master. I had never split rails before and was put under Ike for training, and of course had to do as he directed. He was a great storyteller and would often stop to tell a story. I urged him to work but could not keep him at it over ten minutes at a time.
One day when we had cut off a log and I had commenced to split it, while Ike was sitting in the shade, I called on him to come and help me turn the log over, which he failed to do, and I went on working it alone. Mr. Cabel who had been watching near by and had heard all that was said came up, as if by magic, gun in hand, which he set by a stump, took out his knife, cut a hickory switch and ordered Ike to take off his shirt. Ike begged in vain, but he gave him thirty or more lashes on the bare back. During this exciting time I was scared almost to death, thinking my time would come next. I was tempted to break and run to my master, but knowing I had done my duty I concluded not to do so until I was called to take my share of this thrashing. I had determined to run if called and take chances on being shot, for I could not and would not stand such punishment as was given Ike. When he had finished whipping Ike he said, “Henry will work if you will let him; I have been listening to you for an hour.” I can never express the relief those words gave me, for I did not want to be forced to resist and would not submit to any kind of corporal punishment, and was glad that I did not run while Ike was being punished. I served out my term with Mr. Cabel, which ended December 25, 1854, without even being scolded. Ike and I were separated after the above-mentioned incident, fully half a mile, and I was given a task which I performed easily every day. I shall speak of Mr. Cabel again later on.
On January 1, 1855, with three younger brothers, I was hired to Mr. Beasley, who owned a large tobacco factory and worked about eighty hands, mostly hired. I did not want to go there and told my master so in the presence of Mr. Beasley, who asked the reasons why. I told him that I had heard that he was a hard man to please. My master remained silent during this conversation and finally Beasley and I came to terms, he assuring me that if we worked for him as he had been informed we did for Mr. Barrett, we would have no trouble. After it was arranged my master took me aside and severely scolded me for speaking so harshly to Mr. Beasley. I took it easy for I never sauced him at any time. But that was my opportunity to make easy sailing that year with Beasley.
The overseer at this factory was named Tom Black, who was really a much better man than old Jesse Hare, and if one would do his work faithfully he would have no trouble with Mr. Black. He and I became fast friends and I had an easy time, but I always did my work well. Beasley gave an order that four men were to come to his residence after the factory closed, at sunset each day to cut or saw wood. When my time came I refused to go. He was informed of the fact and said he was going to have Tom Black whip me the next day, which was Saturday; in fact he told him in my presence to do it on Monday morning. But previous to this he called me up to know why I disobeyed his order. I told him that I was not hired for that purpose. Oh, but how he did cut up, yet he did not attempt to strike me.
Before going home to my master, which I certainly should have done, I thought it best to use a little strategy. During Sunday I had a talk with Mr. Black in which I told him my plans. He advised me not to go, and said that unless ordered again he would not attempt to whip me, and even then he would give me plenty of chance to run; but he said he would go and see Mr. Beasley that day. Now what passed between them I am unable to state, but when Mr. Black returned he said it was all right, and it was, for I was never molested after that, and Mr. Beasley revoked the order and had two men detailed to saw wood about four o’clock every evening. I had no more trouble that year with Beasley or his overseer.
I enjoyed life in the factories very much. We had good wholesome food and plenty of it, and when the factory closed at sunset we were free to go where we pleased until sunrise next day. I remember that the M. E. Church, South, allowed the colored people to meet in the basement of their church, and their minister preached to them every Sunday, commencing at three o’clock, P.M., and his text was not always from Luke xii. 47, or Titus ii. 9, but I have no recollection of hearing one preached from Ephesians vi. 9, where the duties of master to servant are explained. Some of the ministers were good men and preached reasonable sermons giving good advice, spiritually and morally, and were beloved by their colored congregations. I remember one whose name was W. G. Cooper, who was so well admired by his colored flock that they raised forty-five dollars and presented him a suit of clothes, when he went to conference, and sent a petition to have him returned to that charge.
Nearly every slave made some money which he could spend for fine clothes or such other things suited to his taste, so that when attending church I remember that the slaves were dressed almost as nicely as their owners, at any rate they looked as well as I have seen them on like occasions since they have been free.
We had some colored preachers, too, who held prayer meetings in their quarters and preached every Sunday afternoon in the white people’s church, but there was always some leading white man present to take note of what the preacher said. If he used words deemed insubordinate or not in keeping with the pro-slavery idea, he was promptly stopped, there and then, and lectured for his mistake, and in some cases his license was recalled. Of course these licences were granted by his master to preach during good behavior. Not three in ten of these preachers could read their texts or any other part of the Bible, but they stood in the pulpit, opened the Bible, gave out the song which did not always fit the tune, and delivered prayer with much force and in language that, while not the choicest, greatly impressed its hearers.
There were a few colored men who could read the Bible, in and around Brunswick at that time, but none of them were preachers. The men who felt themselves called to preach had no education at all, but had a fair amount of brain, good memories, were fluent talkers, and considered pious and truthful. They could line a hymn from memory as clearly as their masters could from their books, and take a text and state where it was to be found.
I remember a story told on Uncle Tom Ewing, an old colored preacher, who was praying on one occasion, after the close of his sermon, in the church near Jacob Vennable’s place, five miles from Brunswick. The old fellow got warmed up, and used the words, “Free indeed, free from death, free from hell, free from work, free from the white folks, free from everything.” After the meeting closed, Jacob Vennable, who sat in front of the pulpit took Tom to task and threatened to have his license revoked if he ever used such language in public. Jacob Vennable was a slave holder and considered a fair master, so I was informed by Jesse, one of his slaves, and others who were supposed to know. I heard Uncle Tom preach and pray many times after the above-described occurrence, but never heard him use the words quoted above.
I remember when a question as to the purity of Christians (whether two clean sheets could soil each other) was being agitated among the colored people in the Bluff, as the hilly portion of the country, fives miles east of Brunswick, was then called. It was argued pro and con with considerable warmth on both sides by the preachers and lay members. Considerable excitement was created thereby, and pending this the white men called a meeting and ordered some of the leading advocates of this new doctrine to appear before them, and they were then and there notified that if they did not stop that kind of talk, they, the white people, would whip every man who favored the clean sheet idea. That ended the new idea and I heard no more of it. I was then living on a farm in that neighborhood and know whereof I speak.
There is this to be said for the slave-holders in that part of the country, at least, that they believed in having their slave women live a virtuous life, and encouraged them in getting married, and did not under any circumstances allow plural marriages among them. Of course there would be occasionally a strange freak, a black mother with a very light-colored child, whose real father’s name was never stated, but these cases were rare, the exception rather than the rule. When two lovers became engaged, the consent of the girl’s parents, and that of both masters, if they belonged to different owners, had to be obtained. Then the girl’s master would give them a wedding supper, and invite a few of his white friends, who would dine first, then the bridal party and their invited guests. The ceremony was usually performed by a colored preacher. After supper dancing commenced, which lasted until a late hour, when they would disperse. The master had built and furnished a cabin for the couple, and when the time came to retire, they were conducted to their cabin and left, after receiving many blessings.
I have stated in this chapter, that there were many masters who encouraged slave girls in their efforts to live virtuous lives, and in a former chapter, I stated that there were thousands of high-toned families, although held in slavery by the laws of the land, and who clearly understood their helpless condition, and yet, by reason of having superior blood in their veins, were enabled thereby to attain the very best conditions possible under the circumstances. These people were very sensitive as to their moral character and standing, and abhorred disgrace and dishonor. To prove this I will cite a case which occurred, and one of which I have personal knowledge.
There lived a slave owner named V. Harper about nine miles from Brunswick, Missouri, who owned quite a number of slaves. Among them was an old man, his wife, and several grown children, one of whom was a very good-looking girl, about nineteen years old. This family were considered high-toned and greatly respected by others, even their owners, for their moral worth and character, and held themselves quite above the common slave.
The girl above mentioned was considered to be of clean character and quite a belle. It is not known who led her from the paths of rectitude, but when she became aware of the fact, that at no distant day, she, a single girl, would become a mother, and realized the dishonor and loss of character which would follow the exposure, she decided that death was preferable in her case to disgrace, walked two miles to reach the Missouri River, plunged herself into it, and was drowned. This occurred about the year 1858.
From 1857 to 1862 times had become rather hard on slaves in Chariton County, Missouri, and were very little better for the free Negroes, for while they were called free, they really had but few more privileges than the slave. They had to choose guardians to transact all their business, even to writing them a pass to go from one township to another in the same county. They could not own real estate in their own right, except through their guardian, neither could they sell their crop without his written consent. Of course, he made a charge for everything he did for them, which was quite a drain upon their resources. There were two or three families of free Negroes in that county, and some of them I often visited. In some cases slave owners did not allow their slaves to associate or in any way communicate with free Negroes, but our owner did not prohibit us in this respect, neither did W. B. Bruce.
Previous to 1840, an old man named Brown, and his wife, together with their slaves, came to Chariton County from the South. They had acquired seven hundred acres of land in that neighborhood, which were located about ten miles from Brunswick. They decided to set their slaves free and leave to them, by will, all their earthly possessions. In order to fit these freed people for the battle of life, they determined to educate them, and for this purpose started a school on the plantation, with themselves as teachers. All who were old enough were compelled to attend. I am unable to state exactly the date when this commenced, but remember that those old enough to attend it could read and write fairly well when I became acquainted with them in 1850. Unfortunately these people did not succeed well; they became poorer each year after the death of their master.
There were found many causes for this state of affairs. The property was left to them as a whole, and was only to be subdivided under certain conditions named in the will. All were not industrious, and the thrifty had to support the lazy. The agent claimed the right to sell the crop each year and divide the earnings equally among the several families.
By order of the Court the plantation was sold in 1855, and the proceeds divided equally among them, after which the families soon scattered, some going to Iowa, and others to Illinois. I have not heard from any of them since. The general opinion was that their guardian, P. T. Abel, got the cream of that estate, because when he arranged the sale of the plantation to Captain Withers, he retained five hundred dollars of the three thousand for his own professional service.
As already stated, there were three families of freed Colored people in that county, and they could only visit one another occasionally, because they lived about ten or fifteen miles apart; to do so they had to secure a written permit from their guardian, for if one of them was caught on the public road without a pass, he was subject to arrest by any white man who chose to make it. Respecting these families of free Colored people, I wish to state that there was one exception, Davy Moore, or “Free Davy,” as he was called, who lived about five miles from Keytesville, the county seat of Chariton county. He was a man of good character, industrious habits, and greatly respected by the better class of white people. On account of faithful and efficient service, his old master, Colonel Moore, gave him his freedom, also that of his wife and children, and eighty acres of land. He was treated like a man; held the respect not only of the Colored, but the white people as well, and enjoyed the same privileges as any other man, excepting the right to vote. In his veins flowed superior blood, and as has already been stated in a former chapter, that blood will tell, regardless of the color of the individual in whose veins it flows.
Singularly enough I had more real pleasure and real freedom than these free people, for with my master’s horse and a pass from him I could ride over the county, in fact did whenever occasion demanded it, and without molestation. If disturbed I had only to show my pass, when I would be immediately released.
Two older brothers of mine, who were bricklayers and stone masons, hired their time from their owner and travelled, not only in the county where we lived, but also in the adjoining counties of Carroll, Howard and Randolph, in search of work, armed with a pass good only in Chariton County. They had no trouble even outside of that county, because they were known as slaves. They made their own contracts, collected their pay, and were not disturbed.
I recall but one instance where either of them had any trouble. One of them had secured a job in Randolph County by underbidding a white man. Upon finding he belonged to a man living in another county, this white man had him arrested. He was carried to Huntsville, the county seat, for trial. Fortunately there was a man there named Cass Wisdom, who knew our family, and who had him promptly released and became responsible for my brother’s behavior while in that county. So that the only difference between the slave and the free Negro, as I saw it, was that the latter had no boss to make him work, or punish him if he did not; he could ride over the county every day if only provided with a pass from his guardian; he could spend his earnings as he pleased after paying his guardian’s share. They certainly did not have as much fun as I had, going to balls and parties given by slaves, where they were not allowed to come. But still the free fellows felt themselves better than the slave, because of the fact, I suppose, that they were called free, while in reality they were no more free than the slave, until the war set both classes free. So bitter was the feeling existing in Kansas in March, 1864, that those who became free by the war were called, in derision, by the freeborns, “contrabands.”
An effort was made in Leavenworth, Kansas, in 1865 or 1866, to organize a combination or social circle, which allowed no contraband to be in it. The object of this organization, as I understood it, was to control everything in which Colored people had a voice, and it was to some extent successful, or at least for a while. During those years a steady stream of contrabands poured into Kansas, and soon constituted about ninety per cent. of the colored population. In a few years many had acquired little homes and standing, and had learned not only the object of the free class, but their own strength, and it was not long before they had relegated many of these would-be leaders to the rear. Of course this brought about a conflicting and unfortunate state of affairs. The freeborns managed to keep control of politics and especially the church and other societies; they not only found, but created places for one another. For a long time after the war, a contraband preacher, however competent he might be, could not get a charge that would give him a decent support. All the fat places in the connection were given to the other class. If a contraband was sent to a small charge, and worked it up so as to get a fair living out of it, and so reported to the conference, by some means he was replaced by one of the other set, and sent further out.
I remember a worthy man named Jesse Mills, now dead, who was a man of clean character, and had some education, or at any rate could read and write; he had been preaching before the war, and was a slave. For nearly ten years that man did not get a decent charge, and if he brought one up to the point where it supported him, he had to go in order to give place to some fellow preacher from the North, out of a job.
There were others served equally as badly as Jesse Mills, whose names I have not the space to mention, save one, who I feel should not be overlooked. Rev. Moses White had been a preacher for several years prior to the war, could read and write, in fact preached quite an intelligent sermon, but not such an one as would suit the conference; he therefore could not get a charge. He had been one of the men who organized and built the Colored A. M. E. Church at Leavenworth, prior to 1864; but he could not be or was not assigned to any charge in that conference, and about 1867 or 1868, knowing or feeling that he had been called to preach the gospel, he left the conference and organized a church on his own responsibility.
I write of these matters as I knew them, not being a member of any church at that time. In after years young men got in, such as W. A. Moore, an ex-slave, a man of clean character and of fine education, and greatly beloved by all who knew him; J. W. Wilson, who had been a slave and a brave soldier, and others of their class, self-educated men. They soon superseded those old fogies or leeches, if the term is admissible. So clearly and successfully has this been accomplished by the admission of young men, sons of ex-slaves, that to-day the term “contraband,” or “freeborn,” has been forgotten. But I have drifted away from my subject, “slavery, as I saw it on a plantation in Missouri,” and with the permission of the reader, will return, taking up the line of recollections where I left off.