Bill Williams
From:
South Carolina
=Project #1655=
=W.W. Dixon=
=Winnsboro, S.C.=
=BILL WILLIAMS=
=EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.=
Bill Williams lives on the Durham place, nine miles east of Winnsboro,
S.C., on the warm charity of Mr. Arthur M. Owens, the present owner. He
is decrepit and unable to work.
"I was born a slave of old Marster John Durham, on a plantation 'bout
five miles east of Blackstock, S.C. My mistress name Margaret. Deir
chillun was Miss Cynthia, Marse Johnnie, Marse Willie and Marse Charnel.
I forgits de others. Then, when young Marse Johnnie marry Miss Minnie
Mobley, my mammy, Kizzie, my daddy, Eph, and me was give to them. Daddy
and mammy had four other chillun. They was Eph, Reuben, Winnie and
Jordan. Us live in rows of log houses, a path 'twixt de two rows. Us was
close to de spring, where us got water and mammy did de white folks
washin' every week. I kep' de fires burnin' 'round de pots, so de water
would keep boilin'. Dat's 'bout all de work I 'members doin' in slavery
time. Daddy was a field hand and ploughed a big red mule, name Esau. How
many slaves was dere? More than I could count. In them days I couldn't
count up to a hundred. How, then, I gonna kno' how many dere was? You
have to ask somebody else. I'll just risk sayin' dere was big and little
ones, just a little drove of them dat went to de field in cotton pickin'
time, a hollerin' and a singin' glory hallelujah all day long, and pick
two bales a day.
"Marse Johnnie and Miss Minnie mighty good marster and mistress to deir
slaves. We had good rock chimneys to our houses, plank floors, movable
bedsteads, wid good wheat straw ticks, and cotton pillows. Other folks'
slaves was complainin' 'bout dirt floors in de houses, boards to sleep
on, no ticks, and rags for pillows. Us got flour bread and 'lasses on
Sunday, too, I'm here to tell you.
"They sho' fetch dat catechism 'round on Sunday and telled you who made
you, what Him make you out of, and what Him make you for. And they say
dat from de crown of your head to de top of your big toe, de chief end
of every finger and every toe, even to de ends of your two thumbs, was
made to glorify de Lord! Missus more 'ticular 'bout dat catechism than
de marster. Her grandpa, old Marster John Mobley was a great Baptist.
After de crops was laid by, every August, him visit his granddaughter.
While dere, he take de slaves and dam up de branch, to make a pond for
to pool de water. Then he take to de hill just 'bove, cut down pine
tops, and make a brush arbor to hold de prachin' in. 'Vite white
preachers, Mr. Cartledge, Mr. Mellichamp or Mr. Van, to come hold a
'vival for all de slaves in and 'round and 'bout de country. I's seen 27
go down and come up out dat pool, a splashin' water from deir faces, one
Sunday evenin'. A terrible thing happen one time at de baptism. It was
while de war was gwine on. Marse Johnnie had come back from Virginia, on
a furlough for ten days. Old Marse John come to see him and fetch Rev.
Mr. Cartledge wid him. People was pow'ful consarned 'bout 'ligion 'long
'bout dat time. Me and all de little slave boys jined dat time and dere
was a little boy name Ike, a slave of old Doctor John Douglas, dat
jined. Him was just 'bout my age, seven or eight years old. After him
jined, him wanna back out of goin' down into de water. Dat evenin',
after dinner, us was all dressed in a kind of white slip-over gown for
de occasion. When it come Ike's time to receive de baptism, him was led
by his mammy, by de hand, to de edge of de water and his hand given to
de preacher in charge, who received him. Then he commenced: 'On de
confession----'. 'Bout dat time little Ike broke loose, run up de bank,
and his mammy and all de slaves holler: 'Ketch him! Ketch him!' Old
Marse John holler: 'Ketch him!' They ketch little Ike and fetch him back
to old Marse John and his mammy. Marse John explain to him dat it better
to have water in de nose, now, than fire in de soul forever after.
Little Ike say nothin'. His mammy take his hand and lead him to de
preacher de same way her did befo'. Little Ike went down into de water.
Preacher take him but when little Ike got down under dat water, de
preacher lose de hold and bless God, in some way little Ike got 'twixt
and 'tween de preacher's legs and comin' out behind him, turnt him
sommersets and climb out on de bank a runnin'. Little Ike's mammy cry
out: 'Ketch him! Ketch him!' Old marster say: 'No let him go to de
devil. Thank de Lord him none of our niggers anyhow. Him just one of Dr.
Douglas' Presbyterians niggers dat's destined to hell and be damned, I
reckon."
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