Thomas Campbell
From:
South Carolina
Project #1855
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.
THOMAS CAMPBELL
EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
"Good mornin' Marster Wood! Marster Donan McCants and Marster Wardlaw
McCants both been tellin' me dat how you wants to see me but I's been so
poorly and down at de heels, in my way of feelin', dat I just ain't of a
mind or disposition to walk up dere to de town clock, where they say you
want me to come. Take dis bench seat under de honey suckle vine. It
shade you from de sun. It sho' is hot! I's surprise dat you take de walk
down here to see a onery old man lak me.
"Yes sir, I was born, 'cordin' to de writin' in de Book, de 15th day of
March, 1855, in de Horeb section of Fairfield District, a slave of old
Marster John Kennedy. How it was, I don't know. Things is a little mixed
in my mind. Fust thing I 'members, and dreams 'bout sometimes yet, is
bein' in Charleston, standin' on de battery, seein' a big ocean of
water, wid ships and their white sails all 'bout, de waves leapin' and
gleamin' 'bout de flanks of de ships in de bright sunshine, thousands of
white birds flyin' 'round and sometimes lighting on de water. My mammy,
her name Chanie, was a holdin' my hand and her other hand was on de
handle of a baby carriage and in dat carriage was one of de Logan
chillun. Whether us b'long to de Logans or whether us was just hired out
to them I's unable to 'member dat. De slaves called him Marster Tom. Us
come back to Fairfield in my fust childhood, to de Kennedy's.
"Marster John Kennedy raise more niggers than he have use for; sometime
he sell them, sometime he hire them out. Him sell mammy and me to
Marster James B. McCants and I been in de McCants family ever since,
bless God!
"Marse James was a great lawyer in his day. I was his house boy and
office boy. When I get older I take on, besides de blackin' of his boots
and shoes and sweepin' out de office, de position of carriage driver and
sweepin' out de church. Marster James was very 'ligious. Who my pa was?
Dat has never been revealed to me. Thank God! I never had one, if they
was lak I see nigger chillun have today. My white folks was all de
parents I had and me wid a skin as black as ink. My belly was always
full of what they had and I never suffer for clothes on my back or shoes
on my feets.
"Does I 'members de Yankees? Yes sir, I 'member when they come. It was
cold weather, February, now dat I think of it. Oh, de sights of them
days. They camp all 'round up at Mt. Zion College and stable their
hosses in one of de rooms. They gallop here and yonder and burn de
'Piscopal Church on Sunday mornin'. A holy war they called it, but they
and Wheeler's men was a holy terror to dis part of de world, as naked
and hungry as they left it. I marry Savannah Parnell and of all our
chillun, dere is just one left, a daughter, Izetta. Her in Tampa,
Florida.
"Does I 'members anything 'bout de Ku Klux? No sir, nothin'. I was
always wid de white folks side of politics. They wasn't concerned 'bout
me. Marster James have no patience for dat kind of business anyhow. Him
was a lawyer and believed in lettin' de law rule in de daylight and
would have nothin' to do wid work dat have to have de cover of night and
darkness.
"Does I 'member 'bout de red shirts? Sure I does. De marster never wore
one. Him get me a red shirt and I wore it in Hampton days. What I
recollect 'bout them times? If you got time to listen, I 'spect I can
make anybody laugh 'bout what happen right in dis town in red shirt
days. You say you glad to listen? Well, here goes. One time in '76. de
democrats have a big meetin' in de court house in April. Much talk last
all day. What they say or do up dere nobody know. Paper come out next
week callin' de radicals to meet in de court house fust Monday in May.
Marster Glenn McCants, a lawyer, was one of old marster's sons. He tell
me all 'bout it.
"De day of de radical republican meetin' in de court house, Marster Ed
Ailen had a drug store, so him and Marster Ozmond Buchanan fix up four
quart bottles of de finest kind of liquor, wid croton-oil in every
bottle. Just befo' de meetin' was called to order, Marster Ed pass out
dat liquor to de ring leader, tellin' him to take it in de court house
and when they want to 'suade a nigger their way, take him in de side
jury rooms and 'suade him wid a drink of fine liquor. When de meetin'
got under way, de chairman 'pointed a doorkeeper to let nobody in and
nobody out 'til de meetin' was over, widout de chairman say so.
"They say things went along smooth for a while but directly dat
croton-oil make a demand for 'tention. Dere was a wild rush for de door.
De doorkeeper say 'Stand back, you have to 'dress de chairman to git
permission to git out'. Chairman rap his gavel and say, 'What's de
matter over dere? Take your seats! Parliment law 'quire you to 'dress de
chair to git permission to leave de hall'. One old nigger, Andy Stewart,
a ring leader shouted: 'To hell wid Parliment law, I's got to git out of
here.' Still de doorkeeper stood firm and faithful, as de boy on de
burnin' deck, as Marster Glenn lak to tell it. One bright mulatto
nigger, Jim Mobley, got out de tangle by movin' to take a recess for
ten minutes, but befo' de motion could be carried out de croton-oil had
done its work. Half de convention have to put on clean clothes and de
court house steps have to be cleaned befo' they could walk up them
again. You ask any old citizen 'bout it. Him will 'member it. Ask old
Doctor Buchanan. His brother, de judge, was de one dat help Marster Ed
Aiken to fix de croton-oil and whiskey.
"Well, dat seem to make you laugh and well it might, 'cause dat day been
now long ago. Sixty-one years you say? How time gits along. Well,
sixty-one years ago everybody laugh all day in Winnsboro, but Marster Ed
never crack a smile, when them niggers run to his drug store and ask him
for somethin' to ease their belly ache."
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