Slave Narrative for the CSET

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and eat. But honey chile, all white folks warn ‘t good to dere slaves, cause I’se seen pore niggers almos’ tore up by dogs, and whipped unmercifully, when dey did’nt do lack de white

folks say . But thank God I had good white folks, dey sho’ did trus’ me to, I had charge of all de keys in the house and I waited on de Missy and de chillun. I laid out all dey clos’ on Sat ‘dy night on de cheers, and den Sund’y mawnings I’d pick up all de dirty clos’, they did’nt have to do a thing. And as for working in the field, my marster neber planted no cotton, I neber seed no cotton planted til’ a’ter I was free.

“But listen, honey, I sho’ could wash, iron, knit and weave, bless yuh, I could finish my days’ work aroun’ de house, and den weave six or seven yards o’cloth. I’se washed, ironed and waited on de fourth generation ob dis family. I l’arned de chillun how to wash, iron, weave, and knit. I jes wish I could tell dese young chillun how to do, if dey would only suffer me to talk to dem, I’d tell dem to be more ‘spectful to dere mammas, and to dere white folks and say ‘yes mam’ an ‘no mam’, instid of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ lack dey do now.

“I ain’t neber been in no tr’uble in mah life, I ain’t been in no lawsuits, I ain’t neber been no witness. I neber had seen a show in my life ’til jes dis pas’ year, when a show, wid swings, lights, and all de doings dey have stop’ in front ob our house har.

“I’se allus tried to treat eberybody as good as I kin, and I uses my manners as good as I knows how, and de Lord sho’ has taken keer ob me. Why, when my house burnt up, de white folks helped me so dat in no time you could’nt tell I had ebber los’ a thing.

But honey, de good ol’ days is don’ gone forebber. Bless you when we lib at Johnson’s Landing on de river, folks would come dere to catch de steamboats, and we neber knowed how many to put on breakfas, dinner, or supper fo’ cause sometimes de boats would be a little behin’ times and sometimes a little before times and we allus had a house full. And as for paying my fare on de boats, I neber had dat to do, when ole Captain John Quill wars livin’ he allus lowed me to ride his boat fo’ nothin anywhar I wanted to go. But what’s the use thinking about dem times, dey’s gone, and de world is ‘gettin’ wicked’er, sin is bolder and bolder, and religion grows colder and colder”.

Source: The American Slave, Supplement Series 1, Vol. 1: 13-16; see also The American Slave, Vol. 6: 12-14.

Walter Calloway
Birmingham, Alabama

“Marse John hab a big plantation an’ lots of slaves. Dey treated us purty good, but we hab to wuk hard. Time I was ten years ole I was makin’ a reg’lar han’ ‘hin de plow. Oh, yassuh, Marse

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