Al Rosboro
From:
South Carolina
=Project #1655=
=W.W. Dixon.=
=Winnsboro, S.C.=
=AL ROSBORO=
=EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS OLD.=
Al Rosboro, with his second wife, Julia, a daughter, and six small
grandchildren, lives in a three-room frame house, three hundred yards
east of the Southern Railway track and US #21, about two miles south of
Woodward, S.C., in Fairfield County. Mr. Brice gives the plot of ground,
four acres with the house, to Al, rent free. A white man, Mr. W.L.
Harvey does the ploughing of the patches for him. Al has cataracts on
his eyes and can do no work. Since this story was written he has
received his first old age pension check of eight dollars from the
Social Welfare Board in Columbia, S.C.
"Does I know what a nonagenarian is? No seh, what dat? Old folks? Well,
dats a mighty long name and I been here a mighty long time. Glad you say
it's a honor and a privilege by de mercy of de Lord. I's thankful! You
wants to know where I was born and who my white folks then?
"I was born just one and a half mile b'low White Oak, S.C., on de old
Marse Billie Brice place. My pappy b'long to old Miss Jennie Rosboro,
but mammy b'long to Marse William Brice. Her name Ann. My old mistress
name Mary, daughter of de Simontons, on Dumpers Creek.
"You wants de fust thing I 'members, then travel 'long de years 'til I
come to settin' right here in dis chair. Well, reckon us git through
today? Take a powerful sight of dat pencil to put it all down.
"Let me see. Fust thing I 'members well, was a big crowd wid picks and
shovels, a buildin' de railroad track right out de other side of de big
road in front of old marster's house. De same railroad dat is dere
today. When de fust engine come through, puffin' and tootin', lak to
scare 'most everybody to death. People got use to it but de mules and
bosses of old marster seem lak they never did. A train of cars a movin'
'long is still de grandest sight to my eyes in de world. Excite me more
now than greyhound busses, or airplanes in de sky ever do.
"I nex' 'members my young misses and young marsters. Dere was Marse
John; he was kilt in de war. Marse Jim, dat went to de war, come back,
marry, and live right here in Winnsboro. Marse Jim got a grandson dat am
in de army a sailin' air-ships. Then dere was Marse William; he moved
off. One of de gals marry a Robertson, I can't 'member her name, tho' I
help her to make mud pies many a day and put them on de chicken coop, in
de sun, to dry. Her had two dolls; deir names was Dorcas and Priscilla.
When de pies got dry, she'd take them under de big oak tree, fetch out
de dolls and talk a whole lot of child mother talk 'bout de pies, to de
Dorcas and Priscilla rag dolls. It was big fun for her tho' and I can
hear her laugh right now lak she did when she mince 'round over them
dolls and pies. Dere was some poor folks livin' close by and she'd send
me over to 'vite deir chillun over to play wid her. They was name
Marshall. Say they come from Virginny and was kin to de highest judge in
de land. They was poor but they was proud. Mistress felt sorry for them
but they wouldn't 'cept any help from her.
"Well, when I git twelve years old, marster give me to his son, Marse
Calvin, and give Marse Calvin a plantation dat his son, Homer, live on
now. I 'member now old marster's overseer comin' to de field; his name
was McElduff. Him say: 'Al, Marse William say come to de house'. I goes
dere on de run. When I git dere, him 'low: 'Calvin, I wants you to take
Al, I give him to you. Al, you take good care of your young marster'. I
always did and if Marse Calvin was livin' he'd tell you de same.
"I forgit to tell you one thing dat happen down dere befo' I left. Dere
was a powerful rich family down dere name Cockrell; I forgits de fust
name. Him brudder tho', was sheriff and live in Winnsboro. Dere was a
rich Mobley family dat live jinin' him, two miles sunrise side of him.
One day de Cockrell cows got out and played thunder wid Mr. Mobley's
corn. Mr. Mobley kilt two of de cows. Dat made de Cockrells mad. They
too proud to go to law 'bout it; they just bide deir time. One day Marse
Ed Mobley's mules got out, come gallopin' 'round and stop in de Cockrell
wheat field. Him take his rifle and kill two of them mules. Dat made Mr.
Mobley mad but him too proud to go to law 'bout it. De Mobley's just
bide deir time. 'Lection come 'round for sheriff nex' summer. No
Cockrell was 'lected sheriff dat time. You ask Mr. Hugh Wylie 'bout dat
nex' time him come to de Boro. Him tell you all 'bout it.
"Dat call to my mind another big man, dat live 'bove White Oak then,
Marse Gregg Cameron. He was powerful rich, wid many slaves. Him lak to
bar-room and drink. Him come by marster's house one day, fell off his
hoss and de hoss gallop on up de road. Dat was de fust drunk man I ever
see. Marster didn't know what to do; him come into de house and ask
Mistress Mary. Him tell her him didn't want to scandal de chillun. She
say: 'What would de good Samaritan do?' Old marster go back, fetch dat
groanin', cussin', old man and put him to bed, bathe his head, make Sam,
de driver, hitch up de buggy, make West go wid him, and take Marse Gregg
home. I never see or hear tell of dat white man anymore, 'til one day
after freedom when I come down here to Robinson's Circus. Him drop dead
dat day at de parade, when de steam piano come 'long a tootin'. 'Spect
de 'citement, steam, and tootin', was too much for him.
"Niggers never learn to read and write. It was 'ginst de law. White
folks fear they would write deir passes and git 'way to de free states.
"Us slaves 'tend Concord Church, tho' Marse Calvin jine de Seceders and
'tend New Hope. Why us go to Concord? 'Cause it too far to walk to New
Hope and not too far to walk to Concord. Us have not 'nough mules for
all to ride, and then de mules need a rest. I now b'longs to Bethany
Presbyterian Church at White Oak. Yes sah, I thinks everybody ought to
jine de church for it's de railroad train to git to hebben on.
"Marse Calvin went to de war. Him got shot thru de hand. Yankees come
and burn up everything him have. Wheeler's men just as bad.
"After freedom I got mannish. Wid not a drop of blood in me but de pure
African, I sets out to find a mate of de pure breed. 'Bout de onliest
place I could find one of dis hatchin', was de Gaillard quarter. I marry
Gabrielle. Live fust years at de Walt Brice McCullough place, then move
to de Vinson place, then to de preacher Erwin place. Dat was a fine
preacher, him pastor for Concord. Him lak to swap hosses. When him come
down out de pulpit him looks 'round, see a hoss him lak, soon as not him
go home to dinner wid de owner of dat hoss. After dinner him say: 'If it
wasn't de Sabbath, how would you trade dat hoss for my hoss?' More words
pass between them, just supposin' all de time it was Monday. Then Mr.
Erwin ride back dere nex' day and come back wid de hoss him took a fancy
for.
"Mr. Erwin move when he git a call to Texas. I moves to de Bob Sinonton
place. From dere I goes to de Jim Brice place, now owned by young Marse
James Brice. I been dere 32 years. Gabrielle and me generate thirteen
chillun, full blooded natural born Africans, seven boys and six gals.
Then Gabrielle die and I marry Julia Jenkins. Us have five chillun, one
boy and four gals. I's done a heap for my country. I wants Mr. Roosevelt
to hear 'bout dat; then maybe him make de country do sumpin' for me."
Next:
Tom Rosboro
Previous:
Charlie Robinson
