Louisa Davis
From:
South Carolina
Project #1855
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.
LOUISA DAVIS
EX-SLAVE 106 YEARS OLD.
"Well, well, well! You knows my white folks on Jackson Creek, up in
Fairfield! I's mighty glad of dat, and glad to see you. My white folks
come to see me pretty often, though they lives way up dere. You wants to
write me up? Well, I'll tell you all I recollect, and what I don't tell
you, my daughter and de white folks can put in de other 'gredients. Take
dis armchair and git dat smokin' ash tray; lay it on de window sill by
you and make yourself comfortable and go ahead."
"I was born in de Catawba River section. My grandpappy was a full blood
Indian; my pappy a half Indian; my mother, coal black woman. Just who I
b'long to when a baby? I'll leave dat for de white folks to tell, but
old Marster Jim Lemon buy us all; pappy, mammy, and three chillun: Jake,
Sophie, and me. De white folks I fust b'long to refuse to sell 'less
Marse Jim buy de whole family; dat was clever, wasn't it? Dis old Louisa
must of come from good stock, all de way 'long from de beginnin', and I
is sho' proud of dat."
"When he buy us, Marse Jim take us to his place on Little River nigh
clean cross de county. In de course of time us fell to Marse Jim's son,
John, and his wife, Miss Mary. I was a grown woman then and nursed their
fust baby, Marse Robert. I see dat baby grow to be a man and 'lected to
legislature, and stand up in dat Capitol over yonder cross de river and
tell them de Law and how they should act, I did. They say I was a pretty
gal, then, face shiny lak a ginger cake, and hair straight and black as
a crow, and I ain't so bad to look at now, Marse Willie says."
"My pappy rise to be foreman on de place and was much trusted, but he
plowed and worked just de same, mammy say maybe harder."
"Then one springtime de flowers git be blooming, de hens to cackling,
and de guineas to patarocking. Sam come along when I was out in de yard
wid de baby. He fust talk to de baby, and I asked him if de baby wasn't
pretty. He say, 'Yes, but not as pretty as you is, Louisa.' I looks at
Sam, and dat kind of foolishness wind up in a weddin'. De white folks
allowed us to be married on de back piazza, and Reverend Boggs performed
de ceremony."
"My husband was a slave of de Sloans and didn't get to see me often as
he wanted to; and of course, as de housemaid then, dere was times I
couldn't meet him, clandestine like he want me. Us had some grief over
dat, but he got a pass twice a week from his marster, Marse Tommie
Sloan, to come to see me. Bold as Sam git to be, in after years ridin'
wid a red shirt long side of General Bratton in '76, dat nigger was
timid as a rabbit wid me when us fust git married. Shucks, let's talk
'bout somthing else. Sam was a field hand and drive de wagon way to
Charleston once a year wid cotton, and always bring back something
pretty for me."
"When de war come on, Sam went wid young Marster Tom Sloan as bodyguard,
and attended to him, and learned to steal chickens, geese, and turkeys
for his young marster, just to tell 'bout it. He dead now; and what I
blames de white folks for, they never would give him a pension, though
he spend so much of his time and labor in their service. I ain't bearin'
down on my kind of white folks, for I'd jump wid joy if I could just git
back into slavery and have de same white folks to serve and be wid them,
day in and day out."
"Once a week I see de farm hands git rations at de smoke house, but dat
didn't concern me. I was a housemaid and my mammy run de kitchen, and us
got de same meals as my marster's folks did."
"Yas sir; I got 'possum. Know how to cook him now. Put him in a pot and
parboil him, then put him in a oven wid lots of lard or fat-back, and
then bake him wid yaller yam potatoes, flanked round and round, and then
wash him down wid locust and persimmon beer followed by a piece of
pumpkin pie. Dat make de bestest meal I 'members in slavery days."
"Us got fish out of Little River nigh every Saturday, and they went good
Sunday morning. Us had Saturday evenin's, dat is, de farm hands did, and
then I got to go to see Sam some Sundays. His folks, de Sloans, give us
a weddin' dinner on Sunday after us was married, and they sho' did tease
Sam dat day."
"Like all rich buckra, de Lemons had hogs a plenty, big flock of sheep,
cotton gin, slaves to card, slaves to spin, and slaves to weave. Us was
well clothed and fed and 'tended to when sick. They was concerned 'bout
our soul's salvation. Us went to church, learn de catechism; they was
Presbyterians, and read de Bible to us. But I went wid Sam after
freedom. He took de name of Davis, and I jined de Methodist Church and
was baptized Louisa Davis."
"Patroller, you ask me? 'Spect I do 'member them. Wasn't I a goodlookin'
woman? Didn't Sam want to see me more than twice a week? Wouldn't he
risk it widout de pass some time? Sure he did. De patrollers got after
and run Sam many a time."
"After de war my pappy went to Florida. He look just like a Indian, hair
and all, bushy head, straight and young lookin' wid no beard. We never
heard from him since."
"De slaves wash de family clothes on Saturday and then rested after
doin' dat. Us had a good time Christmas; every slave ketch white folks
wid a holler, 'Christmas gift, Marster' and they holler it to each
other. Us all hung our stockin's all 'bout de Big House, and then dere
would be sumpin' in dere next mornin'. Lord, wasn't them good times!"
"Now how is it dese days? Young triflin' nigger boys and gals lyin'
'round puffin' cigarets, carryin' whiskey 'round wid them, and gittin'
in jail on Christmas, grievin' de Lord and their pappies, and all sich
things. OH! De risin' generation and de future! What is it comin' to? I
just don't know, but dere is comin' a time to all them."
"I sho' like to dance when I was younger. De fiddlers was Henry Copley
and Buck Manigault; and if anybody 'round here could make a fiddle ring
like Buck could, wouldn't surprise me none if my heart wouldn't cry out
to my legs, 'Fust lady to de right and cheat or swing as you like, and
on to de right'."
"Stop dat laughin'. De Indian blood in me have held me up over a hundred
years, and de music might make me young again."
"Oh yes, us had ghost stories, make your hair stand on end, and us put
iron in de fire when us hear screech owl, and put dream book under bed
to keep off bad dreams."
"When de yankees come they took off all they couldn't eat or burn, but
don't let's talk 'bout dat. Maybe if our folks had beat them and git up
into dere country our folks would of done just like they did. Who
knows?"
"You see dis new house, de flower pots, de dog out yonder, de cat in de
sun lyin' in de chair on de porch, de seven tubs under de shed, de two
big wash pots, you see de pictures hangin' round de wall, de nice beds,
all dese things is de blessin's of de Lord through President Roosevelt.
My grandson, Pinckney, is a World War man, and he got in de CCC Camp,
still in it in North Carolina. When he got his bonus, he come down, and
say, 'Grandma, you too old to walk, supposin' I git you a automobile?"
I allow, 'Son, de Indian blood rather make me want a house.' Then us
laugh. 'Well,' he say, 'Dis money I has and am continuin' to make, I
wants you and mama to enjoy it.' Then he laugh fit to kill heself. Then
I say, 'I been dreamin' of a tepee all our own, all my lifetime; buy us
a lot over in Sugartown in New Brookland, and make a home of happiness
for your ma, me and you'."
"And dis is de tepee you settin' in today. I feel like he's a young
warrior, loyal and brave, off in de forests workin' for his chief, Mr.
Roosevelt, and dat his dreams are 'bout me maybe some night wid de winds
blowin' over dat three C camp where he is."
Project 1885 -1-
District #4
Spartanburg, S. C.
May 29, 1937
FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
"I was a slave of Bill Davis who lived at "Rich Hill", near Indian
Creek, in Newberry County, S. C. I was born about 1856, I reckon. My
daddy was Ivasum Davis and my mammy was Rhody Davis. Marse Bill was a
good master, lived in a big house, give us a good place to live and
plenty to eat. He hardly ever whipped us, and was never cruel to us. He
didn't let his overseer whip us, and never hit a man.
"Aw, we had good eats den. Wish I has some of dem old ash-cakes now
which was cooked in de brick oven or in de ashes in de fireplace. My
mistress had a big garden, and give us something to eat out of it. We
used to go hunting, and killed possums, rabbit, squirrels, and birds.
"We had home-made clothes 'till I was big boy. Dey was made from card
and spin wheels.
"Our work was light; we got up at sun-up at blowing of de horn and
worked till sundown. Sometimes we worked on Saturday afternoons when we
had to. On Saturday nights we had frolics--men and women. Some women
would wash their clothes on Saturday afternoons. Den at night we have
prayer meetings.
"We had no church on our plantation, not till after freedom, but we
learned to read and write and spell.
"De padderrolers didn't bother us; our master always give us a pass when
we go anywhere.
"On Christmas Day master always give big dinners for slaves, and on New
Year we had a holiday.
"I married Lila Davis at de Baptist Church in Newberry.
"When our slaves got sick we sent for de doctor. Some of de old folks in
the neighborhood believed in giving root-herb tea or tea made from
cherry barks or peach leaves.
"When freedom come de master told us we was free and could go but if we
wanted to stay on with him, we could stay. We stayed with him for two
years and worked by day wages.
"The Ku Klux was dere. I heard old folks talk about dem. Dey had white
sheets over their heads and white caps on their heads.
"The Yankees went through our place and stole cattle.
"I thought slavery was all right, 'cause I had a good time. I had a good
master.
"I joined the church when I was 21 years old because I thought I'd live
better. I think all ought to join the church."
Source: Wallace Davis (88), Newberry, S. C.; interviewer: G. Leland
Summer, Newberry, S. C.
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Wallace Davis
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Lizzie Davis
