TGIF!
Lord knows its been a trying week!
Auction & Negro Sales, Atlanta, 1864
Walter Rimm, Texas
“My pappy wasn’t ‘fraid of nothin’. He am light cullud from de white blood, and he runs away sev’ral times. Dere am big woods all round and we sees lots of run-awayers. One old fellow name John been a run-awayer for four years and de patterrollers* tries all dey tricks, but dey can’t cotch him. Dey wants him bad, ’cause it ‘spire other slaves to run away if he stays a-loose. Dey sots de trap for him. Dey knows he like good eats, so dey ‘ranges for a quiltin’ and gives chitlin’s and lye hominey. John comes and am inside when de patterrollers rides up to de door. Everybody gits quiet and John stands near de door, and when dey starts to come in he grabs de shovel full of hot ashes and throws dem into de patterrollers faces. He gits through and runs off, hollerin’, ‘Bird in de air!’
“One woman name Rhodie runs off for long spell. De hounds won’t hunt her. She steals hot light bread** when dey puts it in de window to cool, and lives on dat. She told my mammy how to keep de hounds from followin’ you is to take black pepper and put it in you socks and run without you shoes. It make de hounds sneeze.
“One day I’s in de woods and meets de nigger runawayer. He comes to de cabin and mammy makes him a bacon and egg sandwich and we never seed him again. Maybe he done got clear to Mexico, where a lot of de slaves runs to.
John Fields, Kentucky
There was 11 other children besides myself in my family. When I was 6 years old, all of us children were taken from my parents, because my master died and his estate had to be settled.
We slaves were divided by this method, three disinterested persons were chosen to come to the plantation and together they wrote the names of the different heirs on a few slips of paper. These slips were put in a hat and passed among us slaves. Each one took a slip and name on the slip was the new owner. I happened to draw the name of a relative of my master who was a widow. I can’t describe the heartbreak and horror of that separation. I was only 6 years old and it was the last time I ever saw my mother for longer than one night. Twelve children taken from my mother in one day. Five sisters and two brothers went to Charleston Virginia. One brother and one sister went to Lexington Kentucky, and one brother and myself stayed in Owensburg KY. My mother was later allowed to visit among us children for one week of each year, so she could only remain a short time at each place.
My life was filled with heartache and despair. We rose from four to five o’clock in the morning and parents and children were given hard work, lasting until nightfall gaves us our respite. After a meager supper, we generally talked until we grew sleepy. We had no beds at that time, we just banked on the floor. I had one blanket and may night I sat by the fireplace during the long cold nights in the winter. Some of us would read, if we were lucky enough to know how.
“In most of us colored folks was the great desire to [be] able to read and write. We took advantage of every opportunity to educate ourselves. The greater part of the plantation owners were very harsh if we were caught trying to learn or write. It was the law that if a white man was caught trying to educate a negro slave, he was liable to prosecution entailing a fine of fifty dollars and a jail sentence. We were never allowed to go to town and it was not until after I ran away that I knew that they sold anything but slaves, tobacco, and wiskey. Our ignorance was the greatest hold the South had on us. We knew we could run away, but what then? An offender guilty of this crime was subjected to very harsh punishment.”
Shortly after I got to my new plantation, My mistress married a northern man by the name of David Hill. At first he was very nice to us, but he gradually acquired a mean and overbearing manner toeward us. Iremember one incident that I don’t like to remember. One of the women slaves had been very sick and she was unable to work just as fast as he thought she ought to. He had driven her all day with no results. That night after completing our work he called us all together. He made me hold a light, while he whipped her and then made one of the slaves pour salt water all over her bleeding back. My innerds turn yet at that sight.
Robert Glenn
I was bought and sold three times in one day.
My father’s time was hired out and as he knew a trade he had by working overtime saved up a considerable amount of money. After the speculator, Henry Long, bought me, mother went to father and pled buy viagra quebec with him to buy me from him and let the white folks hire me out. No slave could own a slave. Father got the consent and help of his owners to buy me and they asked Long to put me on the block again.
Long did so and named his price but when he learned who had bid me off he backed down. Later in the day he put me on the block and named another price much higher than the price formerly set. He was asked by the white folks to name his price for his bargain and he did so. I was again put on the auction block and father bought me in, putting up the cash. Long then flew into a rage and cursed my father saying, ‘you damn black son of a bitch, you think you are white do you? Now just to show you are black, I will not let you have your son at any price.’ Father knew it was all off, mother was frantic but there was nothing they could do about it. They had to stand and see the speculator put me on his horse behind him and ride away without allowing either of them to tell me goodbye. I figure I was sold three times in one day, as the price asked was offered in each instance. Mother was told under threat of a whupping not to make any outcry when I was carried away.
He took me to his home, but on the way he stopped for refreshments, at a plantation, and while he was eating and drinking, he put me into a room where two white women were spinning flax. I was given a seat across the room from where they were working. After I had sat there awhile wondering where I was going and thinking about mother and home, I went to one of the women and asked, ‘Missus when will I see my mother again?’ She replied, I don’t know child, go and sit down. I went back to my seat and as I did so both the women stopped spinning for a moment, looked at each other, and one of them remarked. “Almighty God, this slavery business is a horrible thing. Chances are this boy will never see his mother again.” This remark nearly killed me, as I began to fully realize my situation. Long, the Negro trader, soon came back, put me on his horse and finished the trip to his home. He kept me at his home awhile and then traded me to a man named William Moore who lived in Person County. Moore at this time was planning to move to Kentucky which he soon did, taking me with him. My mother found out by the “Grapevine telegraph” that I was going to be carried to Kentucky.
She got permission and came to see me before they carried me off. When she started home I was allowed to go part of the way with her but they sent two Negro girls with us to insure my return. We were allowed to talk privately, but while we were doing so, the two girls stood a short distance away and watched as the marster told them when they left that if I escaped they would be whipped every day until I was caught. When the time of parting came and I had to turn back, I burst out crying loud. I was so weak from sorrow I could not walk, and the two girls who were with me took me by each arm and led me along half carrying me.
Anonymous (unfortunately, the name of this person wasn’t recorded)
I have got a many beating over my head with a stick, cowhide, or anything that they could lay their hands on. I was so sassy. I would sass them to the very last. They would knock and beat me again, but I would sass them again. They would whip me ‘cause I didn’t mind. We would pick wool and have us all sitting around in the house, and I would go to sleep. After a while I would get a lick on my head for going to sleep.
Old Mistress got sick, and I would fan her with a brush, to keep the flies off her. I would hit her all in the face. Sometimes , I would make out I was ‘sleep and beat her in the face. She was so sick she couldn’t sleep much, and couldn’t talk, and when Old Master come in the house, she would try to tell him on me, but he thought she just meant I could go to sleep. Then, he would tell me to go out in the yard and wake up. She couldn’t tell him that I had been hitting her all in the face. I done that woman bad. She was so mean to me.
Well, she died, and all the slaves come in the house just a-hollering and crying and holding their hands over their eyes-just hollering for all they could. Soonas they got outside of the house, they would say, “Old goddamn son of a bitch, she gone on down to hell!