Anthony Dawson
From:
Oklahoma
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
[HR: (photo)]
[Date stamp: AUG 16 1937]
ANTHONY DAWSON
Age 105 yrs.
1008 E. Owen St.,
Tulsa, Okla.
"Run nigger, run,
De Patteroll git you!
Run nigger, run,
De Patteroll come!
"Watch nigger, watch--
De Patteroll trick you!
Watch nigger, watch,
He got a big gun!"
Dat one of the songs de slaves all knowed, and de children down on de
"twenty acres" used to sing it when dey playing in de moonlight 'round
de cabins in de quarters. Sometime I wonder iffen de white folks
didn't make dat song up so us niggers would keep in line.
None of my old Master's boys tried to git away 'cepting two, and dey
met up wid evil, both of 'em.
One of dem niggers was fotching a bull-tongue from a piece of new
ground way at de back of de plantation, and bringing it to my pappy to
git it sharped. My pappy was de blacksmith.
Dis boy got out in de big road to walk in de soft sand, and long come
a wagon wid a white overseer and five, six, niggers going somewhar.
Dey stopped and told dat boy to git in and ride. Dat was de last
anybody seen him.
Dat overseer and another one was cotched after awhile, and showed up
to be underground railroaders. Dey would take a bunch of niggers into
town for some excuse, and on de way jest pick up a extra nigger and
show him whar to go to git on de "railroad system." When de runaway
niggers got to de North dey had to go in de army, and dat boy from our
place got killed. He was a good boy, but dey jest talked him into it.
Dem railroaders was honest, and dey didn't take no presents, but de
patrollers was low white trash!
We all knowed dat if a patroller jest rode right by and didn't say
nothing dat he was doing his honest job, but iffen he stopped his hoss
and talked to a nigger he was after some kind of trade.
Dat other black boy was hoeing cotton way in de back of de field and
de patroller rid up and down de big road, saying nothing to nobody.
De next day another white man was on de job, and long in de evening a
man come by and axed de niggers about de fishing and hunting! Dat
black boy seen he was de same man what was riding de day befo' and he
knowed it was a underground trick. But he didn't see all de trick,
bless God!
We found out afterwards dat he told his mammy about it. She worked at
de big house and she stole something for him to give dat low white
trash I reckon, 'cause de next day he played sick along in de evening
and de black overlooker--he was my uncle--sent him back to de
quarters.
He never did git there, but when dey started de hunt dey found him
about a mile away in de woods wid his head shot off, and old Master
sold his mammy to a trader right away. He never whipped his grown
niggers.
Dat was de way it worked. Dey was all kinds of white folks jest like
dey is now. One man in Sesesh clothes would shoot you if you tried to
run away. Maybe another Sesesh would help slip you out to the
underground and say "God bless you poor black devil", and some of dem
dat was poor would help you if you could bring 'em sumpin you stole,
lak a silver dish or spoons or a couple big hams. I couldn't blame
them poor white folks, wid the men in the War and the women and
children hongry. The niggers didn't belong to them nohow, and they had
to live somehow. But now and then they was a devil on earth, walking
in the sight of God and spreading iniquity before him. He was de
low-down Sesesh dat would take what a poor runaway nigger had to give
for his chance to git away, and den give him 'structions dat would
lead him right into de hands of de patrollers and git him caught or
shot!
Yes, dat's de way it was. Devils and good people walking in de road at
de same time, and nobody could tell one from t'other.
I remember about de trickery so good 'cause I was "grown and out" at
that time. When I was a little boy I was a house boy, 'cause my mammy
was the house woman, but when the war broke I already been sent to the
fields and mammy was still at de house.
I was born on July 25, 1832. I know, 'cause old Master keep de book on
his slaves jest like on his own family. He was a good man, and old
Mistress was de best woman in de world!
De plantation had more than 500 acres and most was in cotton and
tobacco. But we raised corn and oats, and lots of cattle and horses,
and plenty of sheep for wool.
I was born on the plantation, soon after my pappy and mammy was
brought to it. I don't remember whether they was bought or come from
my Mistress's father. He was mighty rich and had several hundred
niggers. When she was married he give her 40 niggers. One of them was
my pappy's brother. His name was John, and he was my master's
overlooker.
We called a white man boss the "overseer", but a nigger was a
overlooker. John could read and write and figger, and old Master
didn't have no white overseer.
Master's name was Levi Dawson, and his plantation was 18 miles east of
Greenville, North Carolina. It was a beautiful place, with all the
fences around the Big House and along the front made out of barked
poles, rider style, and all whitewashed.
The Big House set back from the big road about a quarter of a mile. It
was only one story, but it had lots of rooms.
There was four rooms in a bunch on one side and four in a bunch on the
other, with a wide hall in between. They was made of square adzed
logs, all weatherboarded on the outside and planked up and plastered
on the inside. Then they was a long gallery clean across the front
with big pillars made out of bricks and plastered over. They called it
the passage 'cause it din't have no floor excepting bricks, and a
buggy could drive right under it. Mostly it was used to set under and
talk and play cards and drink the best whiskey old Master could buy.
Back in behind the big house was the kitchen, and the smokehouse in
another place made of plank, and all was whitewashed and painted white
all the time.
Old Mistress was named Miss Susie and she was born an Isley. She
brought 40 niggers from her pappy as a present, and Master Levi jest
had 4 or 5, but he had got all his land from his pappy. She had the
niggers and he had the land. That's the way it was, and that's the way
it stayed! She never let him punish one of her niggers and he never
asked her about buying or selling land. Her pappy was richer than his
pappy, and she was sure quality!
My pappy's name was Anthony, and mammy's name was Chanie. He was the
blacksmith and fixed the wagons, but he couldn't read and figger like
uncle John. Mammy was the head house woman but didn't know any letters
either.
They was both black like me. Old man Isley, where they come from, had
lots of niggers, but I don't think they was off the boat.
You can set the letters up and I can't tell them, but you can't fool
me with the figgers, 'less they are mighty big numbers.
Master Levi had three sons and no daughters. The oldest son was
Simeon. He was in the Sesesh army. The other two boys was too young. I
can't remember their names. They was a lot younger and I was grown and
out befo' they got big.
Old Master was a fine Christian but he like his juleps anyways. He let
us niggers have preachings and prayers, and would give us a parole to
go 10 or 15 miles to a camp meeting and stay two or three days with
nobody but Uncle John to stand for us. Mostly we had white preachers,
but when we had a black preacher that was Heaven.
We didn't have no voodoo women nor conjure folks at our 20 acres. We
all knowed about the Word and the unseen Son of God and we didn't put
no stock in conjure.
Course we had luck charms and good and bad signs, but everybody got
dem things even nowadays. My boy had a white officer in the Big War
and he tells me that man had a li'l old doll tied around his wrist on
a gold chain.
We used herbs and roots for common ailments, like sassafras and
boneset and peach tree poultices and coon root tea, but when a nigger
got bad sick Old Master sent for a white doctor. I remember that old
doctor. He lived in Greenville and he had to come 18 miles in a buggy.
When he give some nigger medicine he would be afraid the nigger was
like lots of them that believed in conjure, and he would say, "If you
don't take that medicine like I tell you and I have to come back here
to see you I going to break your dam black neck next time I come out
here!"
When it was bad weather sometime the black boy sent after him had to
carry a lantern to show him the way back. If that nigger on his mule
got too fur ahead so old doctor couldn't see de light he sho' catch de
devil from that old doctor and from old Master, too, less'n he was one
of old Missy's house niggers, and then old Master jest grumble to
satisfy the doctor.
Down in the quarters we had the spinning house, where the old woman
card the wool and run the loom. They made double weave for the winter
time, and all the white folks and slaves had good clothes and good
food.
Master made us all eat all we could hold. He would come to the
smokehouse and look in and say, "You niggers ain't cutting down that
smoke side and that souse lak you ought to! You made dat meat and you
got to help eat it up!"
Never no work on Sunday 'cepting the regular chores. The overlooker
made everybody clean up and wash de children up and after the praying
we had games. Antny over and marbles and "I Spy" and de likes of that.
Some times de boys would go down in de woods and git a possum. I love
possum and sweet taters, but de coon meat more delicate and de har
don't stink up de meat.
I wasn't at the quarters much as a boy. I was at the big house with my
mammy, and I had to swing the fly bresh over my old Mistress when she
was sewing or eating or taking her nap. Sometime I would keep the
flies off'n old Master, and when I would get tired and let the bresh
slap his neck he would kick at me and cuss me, but he never did reach
me. He had a way of keeping us little niggers scared to death and
never hurting nobody.
I was down in the field burning bresh when I first heard the guns in
the War. De fighting was de battle at Kingston, North Carolina, and it
lasted four days and nights. After while bunches of Sesesh come riding
by hauling wounded people in wagons, and then pretty soon big bunches
of Yankees come by, but dey didn't ack like dey was trying very hard
to ketch up.
Dey had de country in charge quite some time, and they had forages
coming round all the time. By dat time old Master done buried his
money and all de silver and de big clock, but the Yankees didn't pear
to search out dat kind of stuff. All dey ask about was did anybody
find a bottle of brandy!
When de War ended up most all de niggers stay with old Master and work
on de shares, until de land git divided up and sold off and the young
niggers git scattered to town.
I never did have no truck wid de Ku Kluckers, but I had to step mighty
high to keep out'n it! De sho' nuff Kluxes never did bother around us
'cause we minded our own business and never give no trouble.
We wouldn't let no niggers come 'round our place talking 'bout
delegates and voting, and we jest all stayed on the place. But dey was
some low white trash and some devilish niggers made out like dey was
Ku Klux ranging 'round de country stealing hosses and taking things.
Old Master said dey wasn't shore enough, so I reckon he knowed who the
regular ones was.
These bunches that come around robbing got into our neighborhood and
old Master told me I better not have my old horse at the house, 'cause
if I had him they would know nobody had been there stealing and it
wouldn't do no good to hide anything 'cause they would tear up the
place hunting what I had and maybe whip or kill me.
"Your old hoss aint no good, Tony, and you better kill him to make
them think you already been raided on," old Master told me, so I led
him out and knocked him in the head with an axe, and then we hid all
our grub and waited for the Kluckers to come most any night, but they
never did come. I borried a hoss to use in the day and took him back
home every night for about a year.
The niggers kept talking about being free, but they wasn't free then
and they ain't now.
Putting them free jest like putting goat hair on a sheep. When it rain
de goat come a running and git in de shelter, 'cause his hair won't
shed the rain and he git cold, but de sheep ain't got sense enough to
git in the shelter but jest stand out and let it rain on him all day.
But the good Lord fix the sheep up wid a woolly jacket that turn the
water off, and he don't git cold, so he don't have to have no brains.
De nigger during slavery was like de sheep. He couldn't take care of
hisself but his Master looked out for him and he didn't have to use
his brains. De master's protection was like de wooly coat.
But de 'mancipation come and take off de woolly coat and leave de
nigger wid no protection and he cain't take care of hisself either.
When de niggers was sot free lots of them got mighty uppity, and
everybody wanted to be a delegate to something or other. The Yankees
told us we could go down and vote in the 'lections and our color was
good enough to run for anything. Heaps of niggers believed them. You
cain't fault them for that, 'cause they didn't have no better sense,
but I knowed the black folks didn't have no business mixing in until
they knowed more.
It was a long time after the War before I went down to vote and
everything quiet by that time, but I heard people talk about the
fights at the schoolhouse when they had the first election.
I jest stayed on around the old place a long time, and then I got on
another piece of ground and farmed, not far from Greenville until
1900. Then I moved to Hearn, Texas, and stayed with my son Ed until
1903 when we moved to Sapulpa in the Creek Nation. We come to Tulsa
several years ago, and I been living with him ever since.
I can't move off my bed now, but one time I was strong as a young
bull. I raised seven boys and seven girls. My boys was named Edward,
Joseph, Furney, Julius, James, and William, and my girls was Luvenia,
Olivia, Chanie Mamie, Rebecca and Susie.
I always been a deep Christian and depend on God and know his unseen
Son, the King of Glory. I learned about Him when I was a little boy.
Old Master was a good man, but on some of the plantations the masters
wasn't good men and the niggers didn't get the Word.
I never did get no reading and writing 'cause I never did go to the
schools. I thought I was too big, but they had schools and the young
ones went.
But I could figger, and I was a good farmer, and now I bless the Lord
for all his good works. Everybody don't know it I reckon, but we all
needed each other. The blacks needed the whites, and still do.
There's a difference in the color of the skin, but the souls is all
white, or all black, 'pending on the man's life and not on his skin.
The old fashioned meetings is busted up into a thousand different
kinds of churches and only one God to look after them. All is
confusion, but I ain't going to worry my old head about 'em.
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Lucinda Davis
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