Samuel Boulware
From:
South Carolina
Project #1655
Henry Grant
Columbia, S. C.
SAMUEL BOULWARE
EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
Samuel Boulware's only home is one basement room, in the home of colored
friends, for which no rent charges are made. He is old and feeble and
has poor eyesight, yet, he is self-supporting by doing light odd jobs,
mostly for white people. He has never married, hence no dependents
whatever. One of the members of the house, in which Samuel lives, told
him someone on the front porch wanted to talk with him.
From his dingy basement room he slowly mounted the steps and came toward
the front door with an irregular shamble. One seeing his approach would
naturally be of the opinion, that this old darkey was certainly nearing
the hundred year mark. Apparently Father Time had almost caught up with
him; he had been caught in the winds of affliction and now he was
tottering along with a bent and twisted frame, which for many years in
the past, housed a veritable physical giant. The winds of 82 years had
blown over him and now he was calmly and humbly approaching the end of
his days. Humility was his attitude, a characteristic purely
attributable to the genuine and old-fashion southern Negro. He slid into
a nearby chair and began talking in a plain conversational way.
"Dis is a mighty hot day white folks but you knows dis is July and us
gits de hot days in dis month. De older I gits de more I feels de hot
and de cold. I has been a strong, hard working man most all my life and
if it wasn't for dis rheumatism I has in my right leg, I could work hard
every day now.
"Does I 'member much 'bout slavery times? Well, dere is no way for me to
disremember, unless I die. My mammy and me b'long to Doctor Hunter,
some called him Major Hunter. When I was a small boy, I lived wid my
mammy on de Hunter plantation. After freedom, I took de name of my
daddy, who was a Boulware. He b'long to Reuben Boulware, who had a
plantation two and one-half miles from Ridgeway, S. C., on de road dat
leads to Longtown. My mistress' name was Effie. She and marster had four
sons, no girls a-tall. George, Abram, Willie, and Henry, was their
names. They was fine boys, 'cause they was raised by Mistress Effie's
own hands. She was a good woman and done things 'zackly right 'round de
plantation. Us slaves loved her, 'cause she said kind and soft words to
us. Many times I's seen her pat de little niggers on de head, smile and
say nice words to them. Boss, kind treatment done good then and it sho'
does good dis present day; don't you think I's right 'bout dat? Marster
had a bad temper. When he git mad, he walk fast, dis way and dat way,
and when he stop, would say terrible cuss words. When de mistress heard
them bad words, she would bow her pretty head and walk 'way kinda sad
lak. It hurt us slaves to see de mistress sad, 'cause us wanted to see
her smilin' and happy all de time.
"My mammy worked hard in de field every day and as I was just a small
boy, I toted water to de hands in de field and fetched wood into de
kitchen to cook wid. Mammy was de mother of twelve chillun; three of
them die when they was babies. I's de oldest of de twelve and has done
more hard work than de rest. I had five brothers and all of them is
dead, 'cept one dat lives in Savannah, Georgia. I has four sisters, one
living in Charleston, one in New York City, one in Ithaca, N. Y., and
one in Fairfield County, dis State.
"Does my folks help me along any? No sir, they sho' don't. I gits
nothin' from them, and I don't expect nothin' neither. Boss, a nigger's
kinfolks is worse than a stranger to them; they thinks and acts for
theirselves and no one else. I knows I's a nigger and I tries to know my
place. If white folks had drapped us long time ago, us would now be next
to de rovin' beasts of de woods. Slavery was hard I knows but it had to
be, it seem lak. They tells me they eats each other in Africa. Us don't
do dat and you knows dat is a heap to us.
"Us had plenty to eat in slavery time. It wasn't de best but it filled
us up and give us strength 'nough to work. Marster would buy a years
rations on de first of every year and when he git it, he would have some
cooked and would set down and eat a meal of it. He would tell us it
didn't hurt him, so it won't hurt us. Dats de kind of food us slaves had
to eat all de year. Of course, us got a heap of vegetables and fruits in
de summer season, but sich as dat didn't do to work on, in de long
summer days.
"Marster was good, in a way, to his slaves but dat overseer of his name
John Parker, was mean to us sometimes. He was good to some and bad to
others. He strung us up when he done de whippin'. My mammy got many
whippin's on 'count of her short temper. When she got mad, she would
talk back to de overseer, and dat would make him madder than anything
else she could do.
"Marster had over twenty grown slaves all de time. He bought and sold
them whenever he wanted to. It was sad times to see mother and chillun
separated. I's seen de slave speculator cut de little nigger chillun
with keen leather whips, 'cause they'd cry and run after de wagon dat
was takin' their mammies away after they was sold.
"De overseer was poor white folks, if dats what you is askin' 'bout,
and dat is one thing dat made him so hard on de slaves of de plantation.
All de overseers I knowed 'bout was poor white folks; they was white
folks in de neighborhood dat wasn't able to own slaves. All dis class of
people was called by us niggers, poor white folks.
"Us slaves had no schoolin', 'cause dere was no teacher and school nigh
our plantation. I has learnt to read a little since I got grown.
Spelling come to me natural. I can spell 'most any word I hears, old as
I is.
"Marster and mistress was Baptist in 'ligious faith, and b'long to
Concord Baptist Church. Us slaves was allowed to 'tend dat church, too.
Us set up in de gallery and jined in de singin' every Sunday. Us slaves
could jine Concord Church but Doctor Durham, who was de preacher, would
take de slaves in another room from de white folks, and git their
'fessions, then he would jine them to de church.
"My daddy was a slave on Reuben Boulware's plantation, 'bout two miles
from Marster Hunter's place. He would git a pass to come to see mammy
once every week. If he come more than dat he would have to skeedaddle
through de woods and fields from de patrollers. If they ketched him
widout a pass, he was sho' in for a skin crackin' whippin'. He knowed
all dat but he would slip to see mammy anyhow, whippin' or not.
"Most them there patrollers was poor white folks, I believes. Rich folks
stay in their house at night, 'less they has some sort of big frolic
amongst theirselves. Poor white folks had to hustle 'round to make a
living, so, they hired out theirselves to slave owners and rode de roads
at night and whipped niggers if they ketched any off their plantation
widout a pass. I has found dat if you gives to some poor folks, white
or black, something a little better than they is used to, they is sho'
gwine to think too high of theirselves soon, dats right. I sho' believes
dat, as much as I believes I's setting in dis chair talkin' to you.
"I 'members lak yesterday, de Yankees comin' 'long. Marster tried to
hide the best stuff on de plantation but some of de slaves dat helped
him hide it, showed de Yankee soldiers just where it was, when they come
dere. They say: 'Here is de stuff, hid here, 'cause us put it dere.'
Then de soldiers went straight to de place where de valuables was hid
and dug them out and took them, it sho' set old marster down. Us slaves
was sorry dat day for marster and mistress. They was gittin' old, and
now they had lost all they had, and more that dat, they knowed their
slaves was set free. De soldiers took all de good hosses, fat cattle,
chickens, de meat in de smoke house, and then burnt all empty houses.
They left de ones dat folks lived in. De Yankees 'pear to me, to be
lookin' for things to eat, more than anything else.
"Does I believe in 'ligion? Dat is all us has in dis world to live by
and it's gwine to be de onliest thing to die wid. Belief in God and a
'umble spirit is how I's tryin' to live these days. I was christened
fust a Methodist, but when I growed up, I jine de Presbyterian Church
and has 'mained a member of dat church every since.
"Thank God I's had 'nough sense not to believe in haunts and sich
things. I has 'possum hunt at night by myself in graveyards and I ain't
seen one yet. My mammy say she see haunts pass her wid no heads but
these old eyes has never seen anything lak dat. If you has done somebody
a terrible wrong, then I believes dat person when they die, will 'pear
to you on 'count of dat."
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