Eliza Evans
From:
Oklahoma
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
ELIZA EVANS
Age 87
McAlester, Okla.
I sho' remember de days when I was a slave and belonged to de best old
Master what ever was, Mr. John Mixon. We lived in Selma, Dallas
County, Alabama.
My grandma was a refugee from Africa. You know dey was white men who
went slipping 'round and would capture or entice black folks onto
their boats and fetch them over here and sell 'em for slaves. Well,
grandma was a little girl 'bout eight or nine years old and her
parents had sent her out to get wood. Dey was going to have a feast.
Dey was going to roast a baby. Wasn't that awful? Well, they captured
her and put a stick in her mouth. The stick held her mouth wide open
so she wouldn't cry out. When she got to de boat she was so tired out
she didn't do nothing.
They was a lot of more colored folks on de boat. It took about four
months to get across on de boat and Mr. John Mixon met the boat and
bought her. I think he gave five hundred dollars for her. She was
named Gigi, but Master John called her Gracie. She was so good and
they thought so much of her dat they gave her a grand wedding when she
was married. Master John told her he'd never sell none of her chillun.
He kept dat promise and he never did sell any of her grandchillun
either. He thought it was wrong to separate famblys. She was one
hundred and three years old when she died. I guess her mind got kind
of feeble 'cause she wandered off and fell into a mill race and was
drowned.
Master John Mixon had two big plantations. I believe he owned about
four hundred slaves, chillun and all. He allowed us to have church one
time a month with de white folks and we had prayer meeting every
Sunday. Sometimes when de men would do something like being sassy or
lazy and dey knowed dey was gonna be whipped, dey'd slip off and hide
in de woods. When dey'd slip back to get some food dey would all pray
for 'em dat Master wouldn't have 'em whipped too hard, and for fear
the Patroller would hear 'em they'd put their faces down in a dinner
pot. I'd sit out and watch for the Patroller. He was a white man who
was appointed to catch runaway niggers. We all knew him. His name was
Howard Campbell. He had a big pack of dogs. The lead hound was named
Venus. There was five or six in the pack, and they was vicious too.
My father was a carriage driver and he allus took the family to
church. My mother went along to take care of the little chilluns.
She'd take me too. They was Methodist and after they would take the
sacrament we would allus go up and take it. The niggers could use the
whitefolks church in the afternoon.
De Big House was a grand place. It was a two-story house made out of
logs dat had been peeled and smoothed off. There was five big rooms
and a big open hall wid a wide front porch clean across de front. De
porch had big posts and pretty banisters. It was painted white and had
green shutters on de windows. De kitchen was back of de Big House.
De slaves quarters was about a quarter of a mile from de Big House.
Their houses was made of logs and the cracks was daubed with mud. They
would have two rooms. Our bedsteads was made of poplar wood and we
kept them scrubbed white with sand. We used roped woven together for
slats. Our mattresses were made of cotton, grass, or even shucks. My
mother had a feather bed. The chairs was made from cedar with split
white oak bottoms.
Each family kept their own home and cooked and served their own meals.
We used wooden trays and wooden spoons. Once a week all the cullud
chillun went to the Big House to eat dinner. The table was out in de
yard. My nickname was "Speck". I didn't like to eat bread and milk
when I went up there and I'd just sit there. Finally they'd let me go
in de house and my mother would feed me. She was the house woman and
my Auntie was cook. I don't know why they had us up there unless it
was so they could laugh at us.
None of old Master's young niggers never did much work. He say he want
'em to grow up strong. He gave us lots to eat. He had a store of
bacon, milk, bread, beans and molasses. In summer we had vegetables.
My mother could make awful good corn pone. She would take meal and put
salt in it and pour boiling water over it and make into pones. She'd
wrap these pones in wet cabbage or collard leaves and roll dem into
hot ashes and bake dem. They sho' was good. We'd have possum and coon
and fish too.
The boys never wore no britches in de summer time. Boys fifteen years
old would wear long shirts with no sleeves and they went barefooted.
De girls dressed in shimmys. They was a sort of dress with two seams
in it and no sleeves.
Old Master had his slaves to get up about five o'clock. Dey did an
ordinary day's work. He never whipped them unless they was lazy or
sassy or had a fight. Sometimes his slaves would run away but they
allus come back. We didn't have no truck with railroaders 'cause we
like our home.
A woman cussed my mother and it made her mad and they had a fight. Old
Master had them both whipped. My mother got ten licks and de other
woman got twenty-five. Old Mistress sho' was mad 'cause mother got
whipped. Said he wouldn't have done it if she had known it. Old
Mistress taught mother how to read and write and mother taught my
father. I went to school jest one day so I can't read and write now.
Weddings was big days. We'd have big dinners and dances once in a
while [HW: and] when somebody died they'd hold a wake. They'd sit up
all night and sing and pray and talk. At midnight they'd serve
sandwiches and coffee. Sometimes we'd all get together and play ring
plays and dance.
Once the Yankee soldiers come. I was big enough to tote pails and
piggins then. These soldiers made us chillun tote water to fill their
canteens and water their horses. We toted the water on our heads.
Another time we heard the Yankee's was coming and old Master had about
fifteen hundred pounds of meat. They was hauling it off to bury it and
hide it when the Yankees caught them. The soldiers ate and wasted
every bit of that good meat. We didn't like them a bit.
One time some Yankee soldiers stopped and started talking to me--they
asked me what my name was. "I say Liza," and they say, "Liza who?" I
thought a minute and I shook my head, "Jest Liza, I ain't got no other
name."
He say, "Who live up yonder in dat Big House?" I say, "Mr. John
Mixon." He say, "You are Liza Mixon." He say, "Do anybody ever call
you nigger?" And I say, "Yes Sir." He say, "Next time anybody call you
nigger you tell 'em dat you is a Negro and your name is Miss Liza
Mixon." The more I thought of that the more I liked it and I made up
my mind to do jest what he told me to.
My job was minding the calves back while the cows was being milked.
One evening I was minding the calves and old Master come along. He
say, "What you doin' nigger?" I say real pert like, "I ain't no
nigger, I'se a Negro and I'm Miss Liza Mixon." Old Master sho' was
surprised and he picks up a switch and starts at me.
Law, but I was skeered! I hadn't never had no whipping so I run fast
as I can to Grandma Gracie. I hid behind her and she say, "What's the
matter of you child?" And I say, "Master John gwine whip me." And she
say, "What you done?" And I say, "Nothing." She say she know better
and 'bout that time Master John got there. He say, "Gracie, dat little
nigger sassed me." She say, "Lawsie child, what does ail you?" I told
them what the Yankee soldier told me to say and Grandma Gracie took my
dress and lift it over my head and pins my hands inside, and Lawsie,
how she whipped me and I dassent holler loud either. I jest said dat
[HW: to] de wrong person. [TR: "didn't I?" at end was crossed out.]
I'se getting old now and can't work no more. I jest sits here and
thinks about old times. They was good times. We didn't want to be
freed. We hated the Yankee soldiers. Abe Lincoln was a good man
though, wasn't he? I tries to be a good Christian 'cause I wants to go
to Heaven when I die.
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Lizzie Farmer
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