Daniel Waring
From:
South Carolina
=Project #1655=
=Stiles M. Scruggs=
=Columbia, S.C.=
=DANIEL WARING=
=EX-SLAVE 88 YEARS OLD.=
"I was born in Fairfield County, South Carolina, in 1849, and my
parents, Tobias and Becky Waring was slaves of the Waring family, and
the Bookters and Warings was kin folks. When I was just a little shaver
I was told I b'longed to the family of the late Colonel Edward Bookter
of upper Fairfield County.
"The Bookter plantation was a big one, with pastures for cattle, hogs
and sheep; big field of cotton, corn and wheat, and 'bout a dozen Negro
families livin' on it, mostly out of sight from the Bookter's big house.
Two women and three or four Negro chillun work there, preparin' the food
and carin' for the stock. I was one of the chillun. Colonel Bookter's
household had three boys; one bigger than me and two not quite as big as
me. We play together, drive up the cows together, and carry on in
friendly fashion all the time. The nigger chillun eat with the two black
women in a place fixed for them off from the kitchen, after the white
folks finish. We generally have same food and drink that the white folks
have.
"When I was 'bout eleven years old my master took me to Columbia one
Saturday afternoon, and while Colonel Bookter was 'round at a livery
stable on Assembly Street, he give me some money and tell me I could
stroll 'round a while. I did, and soon find myself with 'bout a dozen of
Master Hampton's boys. As we walk 'long Gervais Street, we met a big
fine lookin' man with a fishin' tackle, goin' towards the river, and
several other white folks was with him. As we turn the corner, the big
man kinda grin and say to us: 'Whose niggers are you?' The bigger boy
with us say: 'We all b'longs to Master Hampton.' He laugh some more and
then reach in his pocket and give each one of us a nickel, sayin' to
the white folks: 'Blest if I know my own niggers, anymore'.
"Yes sir, I was 'bout fourteen years old when President Lincoln set us
all free in 1863. The war was still goin' on and I'm tellin' you right
when I say that my folks and friends round me did not regard freedom as
a unmixed blessin'.
"We didn't know where to go or what to do, and so we stayed right where
we was, and there wasn't much difference to our livin', 'cause we had
always had a plenty to eat and wear. I 'member my mammy tellin' me that
food was gittin' scarce, and any black folks beginnin' to scratch for
themselves would suffer, if they take their foot in their hand and
ramble 'bout the land lak a wolf.
"As a slave on the plantation of Colonel Edward Bookter, I had a pretty
good time. I knows I has work to do and I does it, and I always has
plenty to eat and wear in winter and summer. If I get sick I has a
doctor, so we set tight until 1865. After the war we come to Columbia,
and mammy made us a livin' by washin' for white folks and doin' other
jobs in the kitchen, and I worked at odd jobs, too.
"We didn't get much money from the Freedmen's outfit, which was
'stablished in Columbia. The white men who set it up and administered
the Freedmen's funds and rations let some of their pets have much of it,
while others got little or nothin'. An' existence become increasin'
harder as nigger got more and more in the saddle.
"During the war, and it seem to me it would never end, we heard much
'bout President Lincoln. Niggers seem to think he was foolish to get
into war, but they generally give him credit for directin' it right as
far as he could. President Davis was powerful popular at the beginnin'
of the conflict, but his popularity was far less when the war is over
and he is in jail.
"I was 'most grown at the end of the war, and I was at no time popular
with the black leaders and their white friends who rule the roost in
Columbia for 'most thirteen years. I went back to my white friends in
Fairfield County and work for years for Mister T.S. Brice, and others on
the plantation.
"I has been married three times, and am now livin' with my third wife.
She and me am makin' a sort of livin', and is yet able to work. I can
only do de lightest work and the sweetest thought I has these days is
the memory of my white friends when I was young and happy."
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Ned Walker
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