Martha King
From:
Oklahoma
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
[Date stamp: AUG 19 1937]
MARTHA KING
Age 85 yrs.
McAlester, Oklahoma
"They hung Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!
They hung Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!
They hung Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!
While we go marching on!"
Dat was de song de Yankees sang when they marched by our house. They
didn't harm us in any way. I guess de War was over then 'cause a few
days after dat old Master say, "Matt", and I say, "Suh?" He say, "Come
here. You go tell Henry I say come out here and to bring the rest of
the niggers with him." I went to the north door and I say, "Henry,
Master Willis say ever one of you come out here." We all went outside
and line up in front of old Master. He say, "Henry". Henry say, "Yes
sah". Old Master say, "Every one of you is free--as free as I am. You
all can leave or stay 'round here if you want to."
We all stayed on for a long time 'cause we didn't have no other home
and didn't know how to take keer of ourselves. We was kind of scared I
reckon. Finally I heard my mother was in Walker County, Alabama, and I
left and went to live with her.
My mother was Harriet Davis and she was born in Virginia. I don't know
who my father was. My grandmother was captured in Africa when she was
a little girl. A big boat was down at the edge of a bay an' the people
was all excited about it an' some of the bravest went up purty close
to look at it. The men on the boat told them to come on board and they
could have the pretty red handkerchiefs, red and blue beads and big
rings. A lot of them went on board and the ship sailed away with them.
My grandmother never saw any of her folks again.
When I was about five years old they brought my grandmother, my mother
and my two aunts and two uncles to Tuskaloosa from Fayettesville,
Alabama. We crossed a big river on a ferry boat. They put us on the
"block" and sold us. I can remember it well. A white man "cried" me
off just like I was a animal or varmint or something. He said, "Here's
a little nigger, who will give me a bid on her. She will make a good
house gal someday." Old man Davis give him $300.00 for me. I don't
know whether I was afraid or not; I don't think I cared just so I had
something to eat. I was allus hungry. Miss Davis' grandmother and one
of my aunts and uncles. Old man Davis bought the rest of us. Uncle
Henry looked after me when he could. I could see my mother once in
awhile but not often.
I had a purty easy time. I didn't have to work very hard 'till I was
about ten years old. I started working in the field and I had to work
in the weaving room too. We made all our own clothes. I spun and wove
cotton and wool. Old Master bought our shoes. We made fancy cloth. We
could stripe the cloth or check it or leave it plain. We also wove
coverlids and jeans to make mens suits out of. I could still do that
if I had to.
We all went to church with the white folks. We didn't have no colored
preachers. The niggers would get happy and shout all over the place.
Sometimes they'd fall out doors.
The Big House was a double log, two story house, not very fine but
awful comfortable. They was four big fireplace rooms downstairs and
two upstairs. Then they was two sort of shed rooms. There was a big
piazza across the front. The kitchen was a way off from the house,
seems like it was 200 feet at least. Our quarters were close by at the
back. He didn't have many slaves and they was nearly all my kinfolks.
There was Aunt Emmy and Phillis, Uncles Henry, Mitchell, Louis and
Andy, and the others were Uncle Logan and Uncle Nathan. They was old
Mistress' slaves when she done married.
Old Master and old Mistress had three boys, Eli, Billy and Dock. They
had to go to war and old Mistress sho' did cry. She say they might get
killed and she might not see 'em any more. I wonder why all dem white
folks didn't think of that when they sold mothers away from they
chillun. I had to be sold away from my mother. Two of her boys was
badly wounded but they all come back.
Abe Lincoln done everything he could for the niggers. We lost our best
friend when he got killed.
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George Kye
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George G King
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