“We used to play a game called ‘Once Over.’ Throw a ball over the house and if they caught it on the other side, they’d run around and try to catch you.

“Then we used to play ‘Hide the Switch.’ And if you found it, the others all run to keep from bein’ hit. Oh Lawd, that’s been a long time.”

This information given by: Eda Harper
Place of residence: 819 W. Pullen, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Occupation: None
Age: 90

#776

Interviewer: Watt McKinney
Person Interviewed: Abram Harris
Marvell, Arkansas, (6 miles west)
Age: 93

Abram Harris, an ex-slave, just past ninety-three years of age lives with his daughter, Hannah, 70 years old, on the farm of Mrs. Alice Davison a few miles west of Marvell, Arkansas. The two of them have just completed, within the last few days, the harvesting of a small crop of cotton and corn, and Abram was found in a small thicket not far from their cabin where he was busily engaged in cutting some firewood for their winter use. A small tree had been felled and the old man was swinging his axe with the strength and enthusiasm of one far younger than he as the wood was being cut to the proper length for his heater. Interrupted at my approach, Abram laid aside the axe and greeted me with that courtesy so characteristic of an ex-slave. After stating the purpose of my visit, the old negro apparently pleased at this opportunity afforded him to rest and talk, sat on the body of the newly cut tree and told me the following story:

“Yes sir, Cap’n, my name is Abram Harris and I is jist past ninety-three year old. En cose I knows dat I don’t look dat old en all de folks sey dat I acts er heap younger dan my age iffen I really is old as I claims, en I kin still wuk bettern heap dese young uns, kase I is always knowed how ter wuk. My old Boss Man teach me de tricks. He war er wukker he-self, en eberybody hed ter roll roun Old Marster. He neber low no lazy pussen ter stay wid him. Yes sir, Cap’n, I sho has kept up wid my age eber since dat time when Old Marster tole me how ole I is. Yo kin see dat I is er old nigger, kase dese here whiskers so white en de hair on my haid so white too. When ye see dat on er nigger yo kin know dat he er old pussen right off. I gwine ter tell yo, how cum dat I sho knows how old I is. Er heap er niggers, dey tell yo dat dey is so en so year old when dey aint no sich er thing en dey don’t know dey age, but I does, en hit wus jes dis er way.

“I wus borned en raised in South Carolina not fur from Greenville en my Old Marster whut I belonged ter, wus Marse Hodges Brown, en my young Marster he wus Marse Hampton, en me en Marse Hampton wus sho born in de same mont en de same year, en de mont, hit wus October, en dats zackly whut Old Marster tole me, en Marse Hampton sed dat same thing. Us wus boys togedder, me en Marse Hampton, en wus jist er bout de same size, en Marse Hampton, he claimed me, en I gwine ter be his property when bofe us grown. Dat is iffen de war not cum on en Marse Hampton hadn’t er got kilt in de battle. When de war fust brake out, Marse Hampton he too young den ter jine de troops, how-sum-eber he went ter jine up den when he older brudder, Marse Thad, jine up, but Old Mis she wud’nt hear ter Marse Hampton gwine off den, kase he not old enuf, en den, he Old Mis’ baby chile. Marse Thad, he bout two er three year older dan Marse Hampton en he jine de troops at de fust muster en went off ter de war en fit de Yankees night bout two years when de ball shot him in de shoulder, en he wounded den en hab ter cum bak home fer ter git well ergin. Atter Marse Thad cum home en stay fer er mont er sich time fer he wound ter heal up, den he ready ter go bak ter de company, en Marse Hampton gwine ter be eighteen year old pretty soon den, so dey swade Old Mis ter let Marse Hampton go wid Marse Thad bak ter de war, so Old Mis en Old Marster, dey gib in en Marse Hampton lef wid Marse Thad ter jine up wid him in de same company whut he in when de ball hit him. Now dat wuz in de spring when Marse Hampton jine up wid de troops, en him en me gwine ter be eighteen dat fall in October, but hit twarnt as awful long fore Marse Hampton got kilt in de big battle, en Marse Thad too. Dey wuz bofe kilt in de charge, right dar on de bres-wuks, wid dey guns in dey hans, dem two young Marsters er mine, right dar in dat Gettysburg battle, dats whut Old Marster en Old Mis bofe tole me er meny er time, en I wus eighteen in dat October atter dat big fight whut Mars Thad en Marse Hampton git kilt in, en Marse Hodges writ hit down fer me on er paper, en ebery October since den I gits sumbody whut kin figger ter tell me how old I is so’s I kin know en tell folks when dey ax me, en jes last mont, my gal Hannah figgered hit out er gin en she sey dat I is now ninety-three past, so dat is de way dat I gits at hit Cap’n. Now is dat right?

“My white folks wus sho good ter all dey niggers. Dere wus nigh bout no whippin er tall, least Old Marster neber did whip his slaves ter do no good, en he mos ginerally tole us mammies er pappies ter do de whippin er de chillun en de older boys en gals. He hab whip me do en he whip Marse Hampton too when us wus boys. Old Marster start in wid dat hickry en mek out lak he gwine ter frail us out, but atter he done landed er few licks on us, en den us commence hollerin lak he hirtin bad, den he quit whippin, dat de way Old Marster wus. He neber want ter hurt nobody.

“My pa wus name, Jake, en my Mammy wus named, Fanny, Old Marster bought dem from sum-whar, but I wus borned right dar, me en Delia en all de res er de chillun.

“Cap’n, wud ye lak fer me ter tell ye bout dat time dat me en Delia wuz stole? Well, we sho wux stole. De Speckle-ladies (speculators or traders) stole us er way frum Old Marster when us wus chillun, bout twelve er thirteen year old. Hit happened in de night, when dar warnt nobody dar in de quarters but de wimmin. Old Marster en all de men wus down on de ribber dat night, er floatin logs er cuttin timber er sum sich wuk es dat, when dese hear folks cum er stealin chillun. Delia en me wus de fust ones dat dey grab en de onliest ones dat dey git frum Old Marster, but dey sho got us. I ’members dat stealin good. Dem folks tuk us off ter de woods whar dey tied us up ter er tree fer er whole night en day, en tell us dat iffen we cry er holler dat dey gwine ter kills us sho. Den dey cum en tuk us er way en ganged us up wid er lot mo nigger boys en gals whut dey done stole sum whars else. Dey yoked us togedder en walked us clean ter Georgia whar dey sole us. Dey sho pushed dem chillun hard ober de rocks en de hard places till our feets wud bleed frum de sores whar de rocks en de thorns scratch.

“Dey sole me en Delia ter er young white man en he wife whut ain’t been married long en ain’t got no start er niggers yit. Us stayed dar fer mo dan er year I rekkin, en dem wus good white folks en wus good ter us. De Mis teach Delia ter be er house gal en de Marster teach me ter handle stock en plow wid him eber day. Us wus skeered ter tell dem white folks whut bought us whar us home wus en who us Marsters used ter be, kase we skeered dat de speckle-ladies mout cum bak en steal us sum mo, en tek us er way sum mo. I don’t know how hit wus dat Old Marster Hodges Brown cum ter fine out whar we wus, but he sho learnt er bout hit sum sich er way, en one mornin early here cum Old Marster Hodges Brown wid two mo white mens cumin atter me en Delia. Atter dey thru dentifyin us, Old Marster tuk us on bak home wid him, en we sho wus glad ter go. Now Cap’n, dat is de truf I am tellin you bout dat stealin, when me en Delia wus stole.

“My pappy wus named, Jake, en he wus de wagoner fer Marster till he daid, den Marster tuk me en trained me fer de wagoner atter den. My Marster warnt no big, rich man lak er heap er de white folks in dem slabery times, yit en still, he sho hed er plenty er ebery-thing, en de bes of all he fed he niggers good en wus always good ter tem. Marster used ter peddle er heap in Columbia en Greenville bofe atter I git ter be de wagoner fer him. Us wud tek big loads er taters en truck ter dem towns whar Marster wud sell em ter de folks dar. Sumtimes he wud tek er bout twenty beeves ter one er dem towns en rent him er yard whar he wud butcher er bout one beef ebery day en peddle out de meat. Marster neber hed many niggers lak lots de white folks. He jes hed er bout er dozen in all. He sey dat all he want, er got eny use fer.

“Marster hed er big fruit orchard. Jes all kines er fruit wud be in dat orchard, en when dey ripe, Marster send loads dem apples en peaches down ter de still whar he had dem made up in ter Brandy en put in de kegs en barrels en brought bak home when hit done. Heap er times dat I ’members he call de folks up ter de bak gallery en sey, ‘Cum on up here folks en git yo all er dram’. Dats whut he say.

“Whilst our Marster wus good ter all he niggers, dar wus heap er de marsters in dem slabery times whut wus mean, en dat whut mek de niggers run off en hide in de woods, en dats when dey git de nigger hounds on em en track em down jes lak ye do er coon. My pappy, Jake, he owned by er mean white man, fore old Marster bought him in. I ’members bout him tellin us chillun when he used ter run off en hide in de cane thickets fer days en days kase he marster so mean en beat him up so bad, en dat he git so hungry dat he slip bak in close ter de house in de night, en dat sum de wimmins slip him sum meat en bread. He sey dat he used ter sleep wid de dogs under de crib on cold nights so de togs cud keep him warm.

“Dar warnt none er de white folks in dem slabery times whut wud let dey niggers hab any learnin. Yo sho better not be cotch er tryin ter learn no readin er writin. Our Marster neber eben lowed dat, en iffen er nigger wus ter be foun whut cud write, den right straight dey wud chop his fore finger offen dat han whut he write wid. Dar warnt no sich er thing es no schools fer de niggers till atter de surrender.

“Endurin er de war, dar warnt no fightin tuk place roun whar us libed, en de onliest Yankees dat I eber seed wus in Greenville atter de surrender. I sho wus sprized when I seed dem Yankees, kass I neber knowed whut sort er lookin thing dat er Yankee wus. No Sir, Cap’n, I neber knowed dat er Yankee wus er man jes lak my white folks till I seed dem in Greenville, but yo know Cap’n er Yankee looks jes lak yo is, only he do talk funny en fast, mo so dan de kine er white folks dat I is always been er roun.

“Dar warnt nary one er old Marsters niggers whut lef him eben when dey set free, dat is dey did’n lebe him fer two er three years eny way, but atter den sum of em started ter driftin er roun en hirin er roun er bout. When de surrender cum, Old Marster tole em all dat dey free en kin go iffen dey want ter go, en effen dey want ter go dat he gib em sum grub ter go on. Marster wus er good man en iffen he war libin ter day, I wud sho quit dis place en go on wid him, whar-sum-eber he want me ter go.

“No Sir, Cap’n, de niggers dey did’n know what de war wus gwine on fer, en dey did’n know dat dey free till dere marsters tole em, whilst dey wus wantin ter be free all right. Atter us wus free, de white folks hab ter teach us jes lak yo teach er chile.

“Dem Klu Klux whut dey brought on atter de surrender wus sho pizen. Dey wus white mens. Dats whut dey wus, en all dressed up in dem long white garments wid er red cross on em en ridin er big hoss. Dey wus atter dem niggers whut dey claim is mean en zerted dey marsters en went en tuk up wid de Yankees. When dem Klu Klux fust cum in operation de niggers think dat dey is hants er spirits, till dey fine out dat dey warnt nuthin but white mens wid dem garments on em. Dem Klux wud cotch er nigger dat dey want en pin he haid down ter de groun wid er forked stick en one wud hold him whilst de others whip im wid er strop er a lash. Yes sir, Cap’n, dem Klu Klux sho did dis-encourage de niggers er heap.

“Plenty er de white mens whut wus mustered in ter de war wud tek er nigger wid em ter wait on em en ter tend ter de hosses en de sich eber whut dey want done, en I sho did want ter go wid Marse Hampton, en mebbe dat I cud tek care of im. Marse Hampton want me ter go wid him too en try ter swade Old Marster ter let me go, but Old Marster sey dat he hab ter hab me dar at home ter help mek de crops so’s dat he kin send corn en meat ter de sojers. De day dat Marse Hampton lebe, he cum down ter de quarters fer ter tell all de niggers good-bye, en he sey ter me ‘Abe,’ he called me Abe, ‘I gwine off ter dat war en kill out dat whole crowd er Yankees, en den I’se cumin bak en gwine ter Georgia en buy me er farm whar I kin git rich mekin cotton en terbakker. Yo know yo is my nigger en yo gwine ter Georgia wid me, when I goes’. Hit sho did hurt me when Marse Hampton got kilt kase I lubed dat white man. He wus good ter me.

“In my dreams at night I kin yit see Marse Hampton, en er heap er times in de day when I is by myself er hoein de cotton he talks ter me plain so’s I kin understand, en he ax me iffin I is yit en still er good nigger, en tell me ter not be dis-encouraged. Cap’n de Bible is right when hit sey dat, ‘De young mens dream dreams en de old uns see de visions’.

“I kin jes natchally feel spirits, Cap’n, I sho don’t spute dat. I is skeered ter spute hit. When yo is gwine long de road en feel sum warm air, den dat is whar de spirits hes jes been. De wings er de daid has done fanned dat air till hits hot, en when I is gwine er long en hits dat hot air, den I knows dat sum spirit er hant hes been er long dat same route, kase hit sho is hants in dis worl, yit en still dey don’t walk en act lak natchal people.

“Yes Sir, Cap’n, I kin tell yo sum er dem old songs whut de niggers used ter sing in de slabery times. Dis is sum of em:”

Black Judy wus er good gal,
En Black Judy wus er bad gal too.

Mus Jesus bear de cross alone
and all de worl go free?
Oh Brother don’t stay away
Oh Blackslider, don’t stay away.

My old Mistis promised me
dat when she died, she gwine set me free,
But she lived so long en got so po
dat she lef me diggin wid er garden ho.

Wheel er bout en do er bout
en jump Jim Crow.
Ebery time I do er bout
I do jes so.

Yo can’t do wrong en git by
no matter how hard yo try.
Yo kin do lak you please
en feel at yo ease
But you can’t do wrong en git by.

“My parents wus both in the Civil War. He was Levi Berthy and she was Misson Berthy. Mid Hill was mother’s owner. She said he was better to them than most owners. He never whooped ’em. Mother was real light and father was dark. I was born in Pinola County, Mississippi. I had a stroke five years ago. I can’t walk a step for two years now. My parents didn’t let us hear them talk, they sent us out to play, then they died before they got old. I never heard much of their own lives. I live with my daughter and her husband. I don’t get Welfare aid.”

Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Mary Harris
713 N. Plum Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 82

“I was born right here in Arkansas and I remember they was havin’ somethin’. I remember when they taken this town (Pine Bluff). The people what owned me was the parson of the Methodist church—Parson Walsh. Yes ma’m I knowed the Union soldiers was dressed in blue and the Secessors was called Greybacks. My father was with the Yankee soldiers. I don’t know how he got with em but I know he was gone away from this town three years. He come back here after he was mustered out in Vicksburg.

“I remember the Yankee soldiers come and took the colored folks away if they wanted to go. That was after surrender. They carried us to the ‘county band’ and fed us.

“I know the day the Yankees taken Pine Bluff; it was on Sunday and Marse Jesse went to services. The Secessor soldiers left Pine Bluff. Of course I didn’t understand what it was all about cause in them times people didn’t enlighten children like they does now. They know everything now, ain’t no secrets.

“Most work I’ve done is washin’ and ironin’ since I been a full-grown, married woman. I was twenty some odd when I was married. I know I was out of my teens.

“I went to school a good while after the war. My first teacher was Mr. Todd from the North.

“I used to do right smart sewing. I did sewing before machines come to this town. The frocks they used to make had from five to ten yards.

“We is livin’ now in a time of worry. What they is doin’ is told about in the scripture.”

DEC 21 1937
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Rachel Harris
816½ E. Fifth, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 90

“I reekolect when the war started. I was big enuf to be totin’ water, sweepin’, feedin’ chickens. I was a big chap when it started. I went with the white chillun and watched the soldiers marchin’. The drums was playin’ and the next thing I heered, the war was gwine on. You could hear the guns just as plain. The soldiers went by just in droves from soon of a mornin’ till sundown. They said they was goin’ to head off the Yankees. Dis fore the war ended I heered en say they was gwine to free the colored folks. That was in Mississippi.

“My old master was Jim Smith and old mistress’ name was Louisa Smith.

“I had many a whip put on me. When they wasn’t whippin’ me the chillun was. They whipped my mother and everybody.

“My brother Lewis went plum through the war till surrender. He waited on a Rebel soldier—cooked and washed for him. I never did see no white Yankee soldiers but I seed the colored soldiers with the blue suits. I stood out many a night and day and heered them guns.

“Jim Smith had near bout a hundred head of colored folks on his place. He didn’t go to war—he just seed that all the white women had plenty to eat while their men folks was away.

“My mother was sold away from my father long ’fore I was born. He used to come to visit, but a little while ’fore I was born they stopped him and wouldn’t let him come no more.

“After surrender one of my brothers come home and say the war was over.

“We stayed there three years after surrender. They paid my mother and stepfather but they wouldn’t pay us chillun nothin’, so my mother sent me to town to live with my sister.

“I hired out as a nurse girl and them white folks just as good to me as could be. She paid me $3 a month and give me all my clothes. I was young and didn’t have no sense, but all I didn’t spend on candy I sent to my mother.

“In slavery times the white folks had a servant to comb the hair and lift up the dress. Yes ma’m, they had servants. I sho was glad they had that war and freed me.

“Yes, Jesus, I seen them Ku Klux. I member once we had a big ball. We was cuttin’ a dash that night. The Ku Klux come and made out they was dead. Some of the folks run they was so scared, but one woman come out and said she knowed every one of the men. She knowed em by their hosses. Next mornin’ we went by old Purvis Newman’s house and it looked like they was a hundred saddles layin’ out in the yard. I was a young woman then and sparkin’ fit to kill. Yes ma’m I member all about it. I reekolect it just as well as I can walk out that door.

“My son wrote me bout eight years ago and say, ‘Mama, you is might near a hunderd.’ My daughter, my baby chile, is bout sixty-three.

“About this younger generation, I don’t know what to think. Some say the devil loose ‘for a season.’ I say if he ain’t loose, he tied mighty slack.”