Wheeler Gresham
From:
Georgia Narratives, Part 2
WHEELER GRESHAM of WILKES COUNTY
GEORGIA
by
Minnie Branham Stonestreet
Washington-Wilkes
Georgia
Dec. 14, 1936.
Wheeler Gresham, 82 years old, tall, very erect, has white hair and
beard, a quiet dignified manner, and faded old eyes that seem ever to be
gazing back on those happy days he told about "when we war' in slavery."
He is uneducated, having gone to school only one week in his life--gave
up "tryin' to larn out er books."
Wheeler claims the distinction of having had three masters and loving
them all equally well; he belonged to one and lived with the other two.
It all happened in this wise:
His mother, Barbara Booker, belonged to "Marse Simmie and Marse Jabie
Booker"--("Marse Simmie wuz the one what named me") his father, Franklin
Gresham belonged to "Marse George Gresham." The Bookers and Greshams
lived on adjoining plantations and were the best of friends and
neighbors. They would not sell a slave no matter what happened, so when
Barbara and Franklin wanted to marry they had the consent of their
owners and settled down on the Booker plantation where Barbara continued
her work and Franklin spending all his spare time with her, although he
belonged to the Greshams and kept up his work for them. He had a pass to
go and come as he pleased.
Wheeler tells of his life on the plantations for his time was spent
between the two where he played with the other little slaves and with
the white boys near his age. He enjoyed most playing marbles, hunting
and fishing with the little Gresham boys. He never has had a punishment
of any kind in all his whole long life, and said with much pride--"An' I
ain't never been in no court scrape neither. No'm, my Marsters didn't
'low nobody ter 'buke dey han's. Ef a overseer got rough an' wanted to
beat a nigger, he had to go right den and dar." He added: "Dem overseer
fellows wuz rough anyhow, dey warn't our sort of folks. An' de owners
what wuz mean to dey niggers wuz looked down on by 'spectable white
folks lak dem what I belonged to."
"All us little niggers on the Booker plantation et in de white folks'
kitchen, a big old kitchen out in de yard. De grown slaves cooked and et
in dey cabins, but our Mistess wouldn't trust 'em to feed de little
ones. My Gramma wuz de cook an' we had plenty of good victuals, we'd all
set er round an' eat all we wanted three times er day."
Wheeler said that the Doctor who lived near by was always called in when
the negroes were sick and they had the best of care; their owners saw to
that. Of course there were simple home remedies like mullein tea for
colds, Jerusalem Oak seed crushed up and mixed with syrup, given to them
in the Springtime, and always that terrible "garlic warter" they so
despised to take.
When death came the slave was buried on the plantation in the negro
burial ground, a white preacher conducting the last rites. When a negro
couple wanted to marry the consent of the owners was ceremony enough and
they set up a home as man and wife and lived on "'thout all dis 'vocin'
lak dey has terday."
Christmas was a big time with three or four days holiday on the
plantations. Santa Claus found his way to the Quarters and left the
little negroes stick candy and "reisens", and "dar wuz er plenty of
pound cake fer everybody." Fourth of July was a big holiday and all the
little boys white and black went a-fishing together that day.
Sundays were kept holy--no work was done on the Sabbath. On "meetin'
days" everybody attended the neighborhood Church, white and black
worshiped together, the darkies in the gallery built for them. On all
other Sundays they went to Church, and everybody sat in one big Bible
Class. Wheeler said his Mistess called up all the little negroes on the
plantation on Sunday afternoons and taught them the catechism and told
them Bible stories.
There was plenty of fun for the darkies in the Gresham and Booker
community. They had dances, cornshuckings, picnics and all kinds of old
time affairs. These were attended by slaves for some distance around,
but they had to have passes or "de patter rollers would sho' git 'em. Us
little niggers wuz feared to go 'bout much 'kase we heered so much
erbout de patter rollers." Wheeler enjoyed the cornshuckings more than
anything else, or rather he talked more freely about them. He said that
the corn was piled high in the barn and the men and boys, after a big
supper of "fresh meat and all kinds of good things, and plenty of sho'
nough pound cake"--(that pound cake he can't seem to forget)--would
gather around and to the tune of an old fiddle in the hands of a
plantation musician, they would sing and shuck corn until the whole pile
was finished. Many races were entered into and the winners proclaimed
amid much shouting and laughter. This merriment and work lasted into the
night.
Wheeler was quick to say that the happiest time of his life was those
days of slavery and the first years immediately after. He was happy, had
all that anyone needed, was well taken care of in every way. He spoke of
their family as being a happy one, of how they worked hard all day, and
at night were gathered around their cabin fire where the little folks
played, and his mother spun away on her "task of yarn". His Mistess made
all his clothes, "good warm ones, too." All the little negroes played
together and there "wuz a old colored lady" that looked after them "an'
kept 'em straight."
There was little talk of the war, in fact some of the slaves didn't know
what "de white folks wuz er fightin' 'bout." Wheeler's two Booker
masters, "Marse Simmie and Marse Jabie, went to de war, Marse Jabie wuz
kilt dar." Very little difference was noticed in the plantation life--of
course times were harder and there was a sadness around, but work went
on as usual. When the war was over and the slaves called up and told
they were free: "Sum wuz glad an' sum wuz sorry, dey all wuz at a
wonder--at de row's en', didn't know whar ter go. De most of 'em stayed
on lak we wuz, workin' fer our white folks. Dat's what my Pa an' Ma
done, dey stayed on fer sometime after de war." Wheeler tells about a
few Yankees coming through the country after the war: "Us niggers wuz
all 'feared of 'em an' we run frum 'em, but dey didn't do nothin' to
nobody. I dunno what dey cum er 'round down here fer."
Wheeler said he "nuver paid signs no mind--nuver paid no 'tention to all
dem 'stitions an' sich lak." He didn't have any superstitions to tell
only he did hear "ef a screech owl fly 'cross yo' do' hits er sign of a
death in dat house, an' ef a whippowill calls at de' do' hit's er sign
of death. Dat's what folks say, I don't know nothin' 'bout hit."
"I'm glad I knowed slavery, I had er better livin' in dem days dan I
eber had since. No talk 'bout money in dem days--no mam, an' ef a doctor
wuz needed he wuz right dar. I'se livin' ter day 'kase I got sich a good
start, an' den too, I'se livin' on de days of my Pa and Ma. Dey wuz good
folks an' lived ter be old. An' den too, I'se allus lived on a farm,
ain't nuver knowed no t'other kind of life, an' dat's de healthiest and
freest way ter live."
And, maybe, this gray old son of the soil is right--who knows?
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Minnie B Ross
Previous:
Alberta Minor
