Ned Walker
From:
South Carolina
=Project #1655=
=W.W. Dixon=
=Winnsboro, S.C.=
=NED WALKER=
=EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD.=
Ned Walker lives in the village of White Oak, near Winnsboro, S.C., in a
two-room frame house, the dwelling of his son-in-law, Leander Heath, who
married his daughter, Nora. Ned is too old to do any work of a
remunerative character but looks after the garden and chickens of his
daughter and son-in-law. He is a frequent visitor to Winnsboro, S.C. He
brings chickens and garden produce, to sell in the town and the
Winnsboro Hill's village. He is tall, thin, and straight, with kind
eyes. Being one of the old Gaillard Negroes, transplanted from the
Santee section of Berkeley County, in the Low Country, to the red hills
of Fairfield County, in the Up Country, he still retains words and
phrases characteristic of the Negro in the lower part of South Carolina.
"Yes sir, I's tall and slim lak a saplin'; maybe dat a good reason I
live so long. Doctor say lean people lives longer than fat people.
"I hear daddy read one time from de Bible 'bout a man havin' strength of
years in his right hand and honor and riches in his left hand, but
whenever I open dat left hand dere is nothin' in it. 'Spect dat promise
is comin' tho', when de old age pension money gits down here from
Washington. When you 'spect it is comin'? De palm of my hand sho' begin
to itch for dat greenback money. So you think it's on de way? Well,
thank God for dat but it seem 'most too good to be true. Now I'll quit
askin' questions and just set here and smoke and answer, whilst you do
de puttin' down on de paper.
"Yes sir, I was born right here in de southeast corner of Winnsboro, on
de Clifton place. De day I was born, it b'long to my master, David
Gaillard. Miss Louisa, dats Master David's wife, 'low to me one day,
'Ned don't you ever call de master, old master, and don't you ever
think of me as old miss'. I promise her dat I keep dat always in mind,
and I ain't gonna change, though she done gone on to heaven and is in de
choir a singin' and a singin' them chants dat her could pipe so pretty
at St. Johns, in Winnsboro. You see they was 'Piscopalians. Dere was no
hard shell Baptist and no soft shell Methodist in deir make up. It was
all glory, big glory, glory in de very highest rung of Jacob's ladder,
wid our white folks.
"Well, how I is ramblin'. You see dere was Master David and Mistress
Louisa, de king bee and de queen bee. They had a plantation down on de
Santee, in de Low Country, somewhere 'bout Moncks Corner. One day Master
David buy a 1,385 acres on Wateree Creek. He also buy de Clifton place,
to live in, in Winnsboro. I can't git my mind back to tell you what I
wants for you to put on de paper. 'Scuse me, forgit everything, 'til you
git my pedigree down.
"I done name Master David and Mistress Louisa. Now for de chillun. Us
was told to front de boys name wid Marse and de young ladies name wid
Miss. Now us can go and git somewhere.
"Well, dere was Miss Elizabeth; she marry Mr. Dwight. Miss Maria marry
another Mr. Dwight. Miss Kate marry Mr. Bob Ellison, a sheriff. Her got
two chillun in Columbia, Marse David and Marse DuBose Ellison. Then for
de boys; they all went to de war. Marse Alley got kilt. Marse Dick rise
to be a captain and after de war marry Congressman Boyce's daughter,
Miss Fannie. Marse Ike marry and live in de Low Country; he die 'bout
two years ago. Marse Sam marry a Miss DuBose and went wid General Wade
Hampton.
"Marse Sam's son cut a canal that divide half and half de western part
of de whole world. Us niggers was powerful scared, 'til Marse David
Gailliard took a hold of de business. Why us scared? Why us fear dat de
center of de backbone of de world down dere, when cut, would tipple over
lak de halfs of a watermelon and everybody would go under de water in de
ocean. How could Marse David prevent it? Us niggers of de Gaillard
generation have confidence in de Gaillard race and us willin' to sink or
swim wid them in whatever they do. Young Marse David propped de sides of
de world up all right, down dere, and they name a big part of dat canal,
Gaillard Cut, so they did. (Gaillard Cut, Panama Canal)
"Well, I keep a ramblin'. Will I ever git to Marse Henry, de one dat
looked after and cared for slaves of de family most and best? Marse
Henry marry a Miss White in Charleston. He rise to be captain and
adjutant of de fightin' 6th Regiment. After de war him fix it so de
slaves stay altogether, on dat 1,385 acres and buy de place, as common
tenants, on de 'stallment plan. He send word for de head of each family
to come to Winnsboro; us have to have names and register. Marse Henry
command; us obey. Dat was a great day. My daddy already had his name,
Tom. He was de driver of de buggy, de carriage, and one of de wagons, in
slavery. Marse Henry wrote him a name on a slip and say: 'Tom as you
have never walked much, I name you Walker.'
"It wasn't long befo' daddy, who was de only one dat could read and
write, ride down to Columbia and come back wid a 'mission in his pocket
from de 'Publican Governor, to be Justice of de Peace.
"Marse Henry ladle out some 'golliwhopshus' names dat day. Such as:
Caesar Harrison, Edward Cades and Louis Brevard. He say, 'Louis, I give
you de name of a judge. Dan, I give you a Roman name, Pompey.' Pompey
turned out to be a preacher and I see your grandpa, Marse William
Woodward, in de graveyard when Uncle Pompey preached de funeral of old
Uncle Wash Moore. Tell you 'bout dat if I has time.
"Well, he give Uncle Sam de name of Shadrock. When he reach Uncle Aleck,
he 'low: 'I adds to your name Aleck, two fine names, a preacher's and a
scholar's, Porter Ramsey.' 'Bout dat time a little runt elbow and butt
his way right up to de front and say: 'Marse Henry, Marse Henry! I wants
a big bulldozin' name.' Marse Henry look at him and say: 'You little
shrimp, take dis then.' And Marse Henry write on de slip of paper:
Mendoza J. Fernandez, and read it out loud. De little runt laugh mighty
pleased and some of them Fernandezes 'round here to dis day.
"My mammy name Bess, my granddaddy name June, grandmamny, Renah, but all
my brothers dead. My sisters Clerissie and Phibbie am still livin'. Us
was born in a two-story frame house, chimney in de middle, four rooms
down stairs and four up stairs. Dere was four families livin' in it.
Dese was de town domestics of master. Him have another residence on de
plantation and a set of domestics, but my daddy was de coachman for both
places.
"De Gaillard quarters was a little town laid out wid streets wide 'nough
for a wagon to pass thru. Houses was on each side of de street. A well
and church was in de center of de town. Dere was a gin-house, barns,
stables, cowpen and a big bell on top of a high pole at de barn gate.
Dere was a big trough at de well, kept full of water day and night, in
case of fire and to water de stock. Us had peg beds, wheat straw
mattress and rag pillows. Cotton was too valuable.
"Master didn't 'low de chillun to be worked. He feed slaves on 'tatoes,
rice, corn pone, hominy, fried meat, 'lasses, shorts, turnips, collards,
and string beans. Us had pumpkin pie on Sunday. No butter, no sweet milk
but us got blabber and buttermilk.
"Oh, then, I 'bout to forgit. Dere was a big hall wid spinnin' wheels
in it, where thread was spin. Dat thread was hauled to Winnsboro and
brought to de Clifton place in Winnsboro, to de weave house. Dat house
set 'bout where de Winnsboro Mill is now. Mammy was head of de weave
house force and see to de cloth. Dere was a dye-room down dere too. They
use red earth sometime and sometime walnut stain. My mammy learn all dis
from a white lady, Miss Spurrier, dat Master David put in charge dere at
de first. How long she stay? I disremembers dat. Us no want for clothes
summer or winter. Had wooden bottom shoes, two pair in a year.
"Mr. Sam Johnson was de overseer. Dere was 'bout 700 slaves in de
Gaillard quarter and twenty in town, countin' de chillun. De young white
marsters break de law when they teach daddy to read and write. Marse
Dick say: 'To hell wid de law, I got to have somebody dat can read and
write 'mong de servants.' My daddy was his valet. He put de boys to bed,
put on deir shoes and brush them off, and all dat kind of 'tention.
"De church was called Springvale. After freedom, by a vote, de members
jines up, out of respect to de family, wid de Afican Methodist
'Piscopalian Church, so as to have as much of de form, widout de
substance of them chants, of de master's church.
"No sir, us had no mulattoes on de place. Everybody decent and happy.
They give us two days durin' Christmas for celebratin' and dancin'.
"I marry Sylvin Field, a gal on de General Bratton Canaan place. Us have
three chillun. Nora Heath, dat I'm now livin' wid, at White Oak, Bessie
Lew, in Tennessee, and Susannah, who is dead.
"What I think of Abe Lincoln? Dat was a mighty man of de Lord. What I
think of Jeff Davis? He all right, 'cordin' to his education, just lak
my white folks. What I think of Mr. Roosevelt? Oh, Man! Dat's our papa.
"Go off! I's blabbed 'nough. You 'bliged to hear 'bout dat funeral?
Will I pester you for 'nother cigarette? No sir! I ain't gonna smoke it
lak you smoke it. Supposin' us was settin' here smokin' them de same? A
Gaillard come up them steps and see us. He say: 'Shame on dat white
man', turn his back and walk back down. A Woodward come up them steps
and see us. He say: 'You d-- nigger! What's all dis?' Take me by de
collar, boot me down them steps, and come back and have it out wid you.
Dat's 'bout de difference of de up and low country buckra.
"Now 'bout Uncle Wash's funeral. Uncle Wash was de blacksmith in de
forks of de road 'cross de railroad from Concord Church. He was a
powerful man! Him use de hammer and tongs for all de people miles and
miles 'round. Him jine de Springvale Afican Methodist 'Piscopalian
Church, but fell from grace. Him covet a hog of Marse Walt Brice and was
sent to de penitentiary for two years, 'bout dat hog. Him contacted
consumption down dere and come home. His chest was all sunk in and his
ribs full of rheumatism. Him soon went to bed and died. Him was buried
on top of de hill, in de pines just north of Woodward. Uncle Pompey
preached de funeral. White folks was dere. Marse William was dere, and
his nephew, de Attorney General of Arizona. Uncle Pompey took his text
'bout Paul and Silas layin' in jail and dat it was not 'ternally against
a church member to go to jail. Him dwell on de life of labor and
bravery, in tacklin' kickin' hosses and mules. How him sharpen de dull
plow points and make de corn and cotton grow, to feed and clothe de
hungry and naked. He look up thru de pine tree tops and say: 'I see
Jacob's ladder. Brother Wash is climbin' dat ladder. Him is half way up.
Ah! Brudders and sisters, pray, while I preach dat he enter in them
pearly gates. I see them gates open. Brother Wash done reach de topmost
rung in dat ladder. Let us sing wid a shout, dat blessed hymn, 'Dere is
a Fountain Filled Wid Blood'.' Wid de first verse de women got to
hollerin' and wid de second', Uncle Pompey say: 'De dyin' thief I see
him dere to welcome Brother Wash in paradise. Thank God! Brother Wash
done washed as white as snow and landed safe forever more.'
"Dat Attorney General turn up his coat in de November wind and say;
'I'll be damn! Marse William smile and 'low: 'Oh Tom! Don't be too hard
on them. 'Member He will have mercy on them, dat have mercy on
others'."
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Daniel Waring
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Manda Walker
