<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</SPAN></span></p>
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<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="hattierogers">
<tr><td align='left'>N.C. District:</td><td align='left'>No. 2</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Worker:</td><td align='left'>T. Pat Matthews</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>No. Words:</td><td align='left'>1172</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Subject:</td><td align='left'>HATTIE ROGERS</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Person Interviewed:</td><td align='left'>Hattie Rogers</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Editor:</td><td align='left'>G.L. Andrews</td></tr>
</table></div>
<p>[TR: Date stamp: AUG 4 1937]<br/></p>
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<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2>HATTIE ROGERS</h2>
<p>"I was born a slave in New Bern, N.C., Craven County,
the 2nd day of March 1859. My full name is Hattie Rogers.
My mother's name was Roxanna Jeffreys. Her husband was
named Gaston Jeffreys, but he was not my father. My father
was Levin Eubanks, a white man. I was born before my mother
was married. I called my father Marse Levin. We belonged
to Allen Eubanks of New Bern, N.C. and his sister's son was
my father. His sister was named Harriot and I was named
after her. Marster didn't care who our fathers was jest so
the women had children. My father died in 1910. My mother
was 15 years old when I was born. When I was a little girl
they moved us out to the plantation on the White Oak River
in Onslow County where we had plenty to eat and wear. We
made the stuff and we ate it. Our marster was good to us.
Marster carried me around in his arms a whole lot. He would
say to me, 'Come on Harriot, and let's go get a dram. If
you're like your daddy I know you like it.'</p>
<p>"Our marster did not whip us or allow anyone else to
whip us.</p>
<p>"When the Yankees took New Bern, two years before the
war ended, we all were refuged to Franklin County to keep
them from setting us free. All who could swim the river<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</SPAN></span>
and get to the Yankees were free. Some of the men swum the
river and got to Jones County, then to New Bern and freedom.
One of these was Alec Parker. The White Oak River was in
Onslow County bordering Jones County. There was a lot of
slaves who did this, but he is the only one I personally
remember.</p>
<p>"When we got to Franklin County, we saw plenty of
patterollers, and many of the men were whipped. Mother's
husband was beat unmercifully by them.</p>
<p>"There was no churches on the plantation, but we went to
the white folks church and sat on the back seats. The
white people was friendly to us in the eastern part of
the state. Indeed it was more stiff up in Franklin County.
Some of the slave-owners was very mean to their slaves. I
remember seeing some of the slaves almost beat to death.
Lawsy mercy, that was a time. I saw a slave-owner whip a
colored woman named Lucy, his servant. He was named John
Ellis, Judge Ellis's son in Franklinton.</p>
<p>"My mother cooked for Judge Ellis then. John Ellis
whipped Lucy because he found a piece of pickle outside the
pantry door. He accused her of stealing it. There was a
string attached to a bell, near where Lucy stayed. She was
a house girl. He accused her of stealing the pickle and leaving
it there when the bell rung, and she had to go in the house.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</SPAN></span>
He made her strip to her waist and then he made her hug a
tree. He whipped her with a cowhide whip until she could
only say in a weak voice, 'Oh pray! Marster John'. Major
Thomason was there, and he went to Marse John and said 'John,
don't kill the dam nigger.'</p>
<p>"A lot of the white folks hid in the woods and in caves
and swamps. They hired slaves out when they didn't need
'em themselves. They hid jewelry in hoss stables by digging
holes, putting the jewelry in, and then replacing the straw.</p>
<p>"When the slaves was sent from White Oak to Franklinton
before Lee surrendered they had to walk all the way. We
children was carried in dump carts drawn by mules. My marster
nor none of his boys was ever in the Confederate Army.
When they got us to Franklinton they put us in jail for safe
keeping.</p>
<p>"If a woman was a good breeder she brought a good price
on the auction block. The slave buyers would come around
and jab them in the stomach and look them over and if they
thought they would have children fast they brought a good
price.</p>
<p>"Just before the war started when the birds would sing
around the well, Missus would say, 'War is coming, them
birds singing is a sign of war; the Yankees will come and
kill us all.' I can see the old well now jest as plain.
It had a sweep and pole. You pulled the sweep over by<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</SPAN></span>
pulling the pole and bucket down into the well. When it
sunk into the water, the heavy sweep pulled it up again.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't tell anything wrong on my ole marster for
anything. He was good to all of us. He offered my mother
a piece of land after the war closed, but mother's husband
would not let her accept it. My grandmother took a place
he offered her. He gave her fifty acres of land and put
a nice frame building on it.</p>
<p>"The man we belonged to never was married. He bought
a woman who had two little girls, on [TR: one] named Lucy and the
other Abbie. He took Lucy for a house girl to wait on his
mother. She had eleven children by him. They're all
dead except one. All the missus I ever had was a slave,
and she was this same Lucy. Yes, sir he loved that woman,
and when he died he left all his property to her.</p>
<p>"When the slaves on the plantation got sick they relied
mostly on herbs. They used sage tea for fever, poplar bark
water for chills.</p>
<p>"When the husbands and brothers and sweethearts were
gone to the war the white ladies would sing. Annie Ellis
and Mag Thomas would sing these pitiful songs. 'Adieu my
friends, I bid you adieu, I'll hang my heart on the willow
tree and may the world go well with you.'</p>
<p>"When I was three years old I remember hearing this<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</SPAN></span>
song. 'Old Beauregard and Jackson came running down to
Manassas, I couldn't tell to save my life which one could
run the fastest, Hurray boys, hurray!'</p>
<p>"When the surrender came the Yankees rocked the place
where we were in. We were in a box car. They wanted to
get a light-colored slave out.</p>
<p>"The Yankee officers came and gave mother's husband
a gun and told him to shoot anyone who bothered us. They
put a guard around the car, and they walked around the
car all night.</p>
<p>"My mother was dipping snuff when the Yankees came.
One rode up to her and said, 'Take that stick out of your
mouth.' Mother was scared when the Yankees tried to
break in on us. She cried and hollered murder! and I
cried too. I din't know about freedom. I was too young
to realize much about it. When the war ended I had just
been hired out. I was never sent off. I think slavery was
an awful thing, and that Abraham Lincoln was a good man
because he set us free."</p>
<p>LE</p>
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