Charlie Robinson
From:
South Carolina
=Project #1655=
=W.W. Dixon=
=Winnsboro, S.C.=
=CHARLIE ROBINSON=
=EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.=
Charlie Robinson lives nine miles northwest of Winnsboro, S.C., on lands
of Mr. R.W. Lemmon. There is one other occupant in the four-room house,
John Giles, a share cropper. The house has two fireplaces, the brick
chimney being constructed in the center of the two main rooms. The other
two rooms are shed rooms. Charlie ekes out a living as a day laborer on
the farm.
"They been tellin' me to come to de social circle and see 'bout my
pension but I never is got dere. It been so hot, I hate to hotfoot it
nine miles to Winnsboro and huff dat same distance back on a hot summer
day.
"Glad you come out here but sorry of de day, 'cause it is a Friday and
all de jay-birds go to see de devil dat day of de week. It's a bad day
to begin a garment, or quilt or start de lye hopper or 'simmon beer keg
or just anything important to yourself on dat day. Dere is just one good
Friday in de year and de others is given over to de devil, his imps, and
de jay-birds. Does I believe all dat? I believes it 'nough not to patch
dese old breeches 'til tomorrow and not start my 'simmon beer, when de
frost fall on them dis fall, on a Friday.
"You wants me to set down so you can ask me sumpin'? I'll do dat! Of
course I will! (He proceeded to do so--wiping his nose on his sleeve and
sprawling down on the doorsill). My pappy name George, black George they
call him in slavery time, 'cause dere was a small yallow slave on de
place, named George. My mammy name Ca'line. My pappy b'long to de
McNeals and my mammy b'long to Marse Joe Beard. His wife was my
mistress. Her name Miss Gracie. 'Nitials? Dat sumpin' not in my lingo,
Boss. You want to know what my pappy's old marster name? Seem to me they
call him Marse Gene, though it been so long I done forgot. When my
marster went to de war him got a ball through his leg. Bad treatment of
dat leg give him a limp for de balance of his days. White folks call him
'Hoppin' Joe Beard' and sometime 'Lopin' Joe'.
"Marster and mistress have two chillun. I play marbles wid them and make
mud pies. Deir names was Marse Willie and Miss Rhoda.
"My brudders and sisters was Jeff, Roland, Jane and Fannie. All dead
'cept Fannie. Her marry a big, long nigger name Saul Griffin. Last I
heard of them, they was livin' in Columbia, S.C.
"I start workin' in de field de second year of de war, 1862. It sho'
made me hungry. I 'members now, how I'd git a big tin cupful of pot
liquor from de greens, crumble corn bread in it at dinner time and 'joy
it as de bestest part of de dinner. Us no suffer for sumpin' to eat. I
go all summer in my shirt-tail and in de winter I have to do de best I
can, widout any shoes. Ever since then, I just lak to go barefooted as
you sees me now.
"My pappy git a pass and come to see mammy every Saturday night. My
marster had just four slave houses on de place. 'Spect him have 'bout
eight women, dat men come from other places to see and marry them and
have chillun. I doesn't 'member nary one of de women havin' a husband
livin' wid her every night.
"Who do de plowin'? Women and boys do de plowin'. Had good 'nough
houses, though they was made of logs, 'cup and saddled' at both ends,
and covered wid white oak board shingles. Had stick and mud chimneys.
"De Yankees made a clean sweep of everything, hosses, mules, cows, hogs,
meat and 'lasses. Got so mad when they couldn't find any salt, they burn
up everything. Pull Marse Joe's beard, just 'cause him name Beard. De
one dat do dat was just a smart aleck and de cap'n of de crowd shame
him and make him slink 'way, out de house.
"When freedom come, Marse Joe stay one year, then leave. Sell out and
move to Walhalla and us move to pappy on de McNeal place. Dat year us
all jined de church, Union Church. I now b'longs to New Hope Methodist
Church. Us nex' move to Mr. Bill Crawford's place. Mr. Crawford got to
be school commissioner on de 'publican ticket and white folks call him
scalawag. Him have pappy and all de colored folks go to de 'lection box
and vote. Ku Klux come dere one night and whip every nigger man they
could lay deir hands on. Things quiet down then but us no more go to de
'lection box and vote.
"'Bout dis time thoughts of de gals got in my head and feets at de same
time. I was buyin' a biled shirt and celluloid collar, in Mr. Sailing
Wolf's store, one Saturday, and in walked Ceily Johnson. I commence to
court her right then and dere, befo' I ever git inside dat shirt and
collar. Her have dark skin and was good to look at, I tell you. I
de-sash-shay 'bout dat gal, lak a chicken rooster spread his wing 'round
a pretty black pullet, 'til I wear out her indifference and her make me
happy by marryin' me. Her was too good lookin' and too bad doin',
though, for me. She left by de light of de moon when us was livin' on de
Cummings place, 'bove town. Excuse me now, dat's still a fresh subject
of torment to me. Let's talk 'bout chances of gittin' dat pension, when
I can git another clean white shirt, lay 'round de white folks again,
and git dis belly full of pot liquor."
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Al Rosboro
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Alexander Robertson
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