Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, Volume XI, North Carolina Narratives, Part 2

<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</SPAN></span></p> <div class='left'> <table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="carolinerichards"> <tr><td align='left'>N.C. District:</td><td align='left'>No. 2</td></tr> <tr><td align='left'>Worker:</td><td align='left'>Mary A. Hicks</td></tr> <tr><td align='left'>No. Words:</td><td align='left'>1083</td></tr> <tr><td align='left'>Subject:</td><td align='left'>CAROLINE RICHARDSON</td></tr> <tr><td align='left'>Person Interviewed:</td><td align='left'>Caroline Richardson</td></tr> <tr><td align='left'>Editor:</td><td align='left'>G.L. Andrews</td></tr> </table></div> <p>[TR: Date stamp: SEP 10 1937]<br/> [HW: A (circled)]<br/></p> <hr style="width: 25%;" /> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</SPAN></span></p> <h2>CAROLINE RICHARDSON</h2> <h4>An interview with Caroline Richardson who does not know her age. She resides near the northern city limits of Selma. </h4> <p>"I reckin dat I is somers 'bout sixty year old. Anyhow I wus ten or twelve when de Yankees come ter Marse Ransome Bridgers' place near Clayton. Dat's whar I wus borned an' my pappy, my mammy an' we 'leben chilluns 'longed ter Marse Ransome an' Mis' Adeline. Dar wus also young Marse George an' young Miss Betsy who I 'longed to.</p> <p>"Mis' Adeline wus little an' puny an' Marse Ransome wus big an' stout, dat's why it am funny dat mammy won't let Mis' Adeline whup her but she don't say nothin' when de marster gits de whup. Dere ain't nobody got many whuppin's nohow an' a slave on marster's place had ter be mean ter git a whuppin'. You see mammy would sass dem all.</p> <p>"We ain't heard much 'bout de war, nothin' lak we heard 'bout de world war. I knows dat nobody from our plantation ain't gone ter dat war case Marse Ransome was too old an' Marse George wus a patteroller, or maybe he wus just too young. Dar was a little bit of talk but most of it we ain't heard. I tended to de slave babies, but my mammy what cooked in de big house heard some of de war talk an' I heard her a-talkin' to pappy about it. When she seed me a-listenin' she said dat she'd cut my year off iffen I told it. I had seen some of de<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</SPAN></span> slaves wid clipped years an' I wanted to keep mine, so I ain't said nothin'.</p> <p>"One day Mis' Betsy come out ter de yard an' she sez ter we chilluns, 'You has got de habit of runnin' ter de gate to see who can say howdy first to our company, well de Yankees will be here today or tomorrow an' dey ain't our company. In fact iffen yo' runs ter de gate ter meet dem dey will shoot you dead.'</p> <p>"Ober late dat evenin' I heard music an' I runs ter de gate ter see whar it am. Comin' down de road as fast as dey can I sees a bunch of men wid gray suits on a-ridin' like de debil. Dey don't stop at our house at all but later I heard dat dey wus Wheeler's cavalry, de very meanest of de Rebs, though 'tis said dat dey wus brave in battle.</p> <p>"About a hour atter Wheeler's men come by de Yankees hove into sight. De drums wus beatin', de flags wavin' an' de hosses prancin' high. We niggers has been teached dat de Yankees will kill us, men women an' chilluns. De whole hundert or so of us runs an' hides.</p> <p>"Yes mam, I 'members de blue uniforms an' de brass buttons, an' I 'members how dey said as dey come in de gate dat dey has as good as won de war, an' dat dey ort ter hang de southern men what won't go ter war.</p> <p>"I reckin dat dey talk purty rough ter Marse Ransome. Anyhow, mammy tells de Yankee Captain dat he ort ter be 'shamed of talkin' ter a old man like dat. Furder more, she tells dem<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</SPAN></span> dat iffen dat's de way dey're gwine ter git her freedom, she don't want it at all. Wid dat mammy takes Mis' Betsy upstairs whar de Yankees won't be a-starin' at her.</p> <p>"One of de Yankees fin's me an' axes me how many pairs of shoes I gits a year. I tells him dat I gits one pair. Den he axes me what I wears in de summertime. When I tells him dat I ain't wear nothin' but a shirt, an' dat I goes barefooted in de summer, he cusses awful an' he damns my marster.</p> <p>"Mammy said dat dey tol' her an' pappy dat dey'd git some land an' a mule iffen dey wus freed. You see dey tried ter turn de slaves agin dere marsters.</p> <p>"At de surrender most of de niggers left, but me an' my family stayed fer wages. We ain't really had as good as we done before de war, an' 'cides dat we has ter worry about how we're goin' ter live.</p> <p>"We stayed dar at de same place, de ole Zola May place, on de Wake an' Johnston line, fer four or five years an' I went to school a little bit. Atter we left dar we went to Mr. John H. Wilson's place near Wilson's Mill. It wus at de end of dese ten years dat mammy wus gwine ter whup Bill, my brother, so he went off ter Louisanna an' we ain't seed him since.</p> <p>"At de end of dis time I married Barney Richardson an' we had three chilluns, who am all dead now. We worked an' slaved till we bought dis house an' paid fer it, den in 1918 he died. I married John Haskins de second time but he's been<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</SPAN></span> dead now fer about ten years.</p> <p>"I told you dat I owned dis shack but you see how de top has come ter pieces an' de steps has fell down. I'm behind in my taxes too so I'm 'spectin' dem ter take it away from me at any time. I has been dependent on de white folks now fer four or five years. De county gives me two dollars a month an' de white folks gives me a little now an' den. You see dat I can't straighten up so I can't work in five years.</p> <p>"Drawin' water out of dat well wid no curb shore bothers me too, come an' look at it."</p> <p>I looked at the well and in the well and was horrified. There was no curbing at all, only a few rotting planks laid over the hole, and on these she stood right over the water while she drew up the heavy bucket with a small rope and without the aid of a wheel. "I reckin dat some of dese days somebody will draw me outen dis well," she continued briskly. "Anyhow hit don't matter much.</p> <p>"You see dat little patch, wid de roastin' ears comin' an' de peas a-bloomin'. I grubbed it up wid my hoe an' planted it myself. Iffen you can spare it I wish you'd give me a quarter an' iffen you're round here 'bout three weeks stop an' git you a mess of peas."</p> <hr style="width: 95%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />