William Sykes
From:
North Carolina
N.C. District: No. 2
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 848
Subject: WILLIAM SYKES
Person Interviewed: William Sykes
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt
WILLIAM SYKES
Ex-Slave Story
An interview with William Sykes 78, of State prison, Raleigh, N.C.
"My mammy Martha an' me we 'longed ter Mister Joshua Long in Martin
County, an' my paw, Henry 'longed ter Squire Ben Sykes in Tyrell
County. Squire Sykes lived in what wus called Gum Neck, an' he owned a
hundert slaves or more an' a whole passel of lan'.
"I lived wid my mammy in Martin County from de fust dat I could
'member, me an' my brothers, Henry, Benjamin an' Columbus, an' my
sisters Hester, Margaret, Lucy an' Susan.
"I doan 'member so much what happen 'fore de war, of course, but I does
'member a heap of little things. I knows dat Mister Long an' Mis'
Catherine wus good ter us an' I 'members dat de food an' de clothes wus
good an' dat dar wus a heap o' fun on holidays.
"Most o' de holidays wus celebrated by eatin' candy, drinkin' wine an
'brandy. Dar wus a heap o' dancin' ter de music of banjoes an' han'
slappin'.
"We had co'n shuckin's, an' prayer meetin's, an' sociables an'
singin's. I went swimmin' in de crick, went wid ole Joe Brown, a-possum
huntin', an' coon huntin', an' I sometimes went a-fishin'.
"When de Yankees comed dey come a tearin'. Dey ain't done so bad in our
neighborhood, case hit warn't so full of de 'infernal Rebs', as de
Yankees said. Dey tooked de bes' o' eber'thing do' but dey ain't doin'
so much deruction. Dey eben buyed terbacker from my mammy, an' dey paid
her a dollar an' fifty cents a pound, stim an' all.
"Dey paid her wid shin plasters, which wus green paper money, an' de
fust dat eber I seed.
"We slaves wus skeerd o' de Yankees, an' fer some reason I got sent ter
paw at Squire Sykes' house in Tyrell County.
"Squire Sykes come stompin' in one day an' he says ter my paw, 'Henry,
dem damm Yankees am comin' ter take my niggers 'way from me, an' I
ain't gwine ter stan' fer hit nother. Le's you an' me take dese niggers
an' march straight ter de Blue Ridge mountains, an' up dar in dem
mountains dar won't be no trouble, case dey won't dare come up dar
atter us.'
"Wal, we got on de march fer de mountains an' we march on ter Judge
Clayton Moore's grandfather's place in Mitchell County, whar we camps
fer seberal days.
"While we wus dar one day, an' while Mr. Jim Moore, de Jedge's daddy am
in town de missus axes my cousin Jane ter do de washin'.
"Jane says dat she has got ter do her own washin' an dat she'll wash
fer de missus termorrer. De missus says 'you ain't free yit, I wants
you ter know.'
"'I knows dat I's not but I is gwine ter be free', Jane says.
"De missus ain't said a word den, but late Sadday night Mr. Jim he
comes back from town an' she tells him 'bout hit.
"Mr. Jim am some mad an' he takes Jane out on Sunday mornin' an' he
beats her till de blood runs down her back.
"De patterollers wus thick dem days, Mr. Joe Jones wus our regular
patteroller an' he gibe us de very debil.
"A few days atter Jane got her beatin' we marches away. De wimen am
left at Jamesville but us mens an' boys, we marches on ter Buncombe
County an' we ain't seed no mo' Yankees.
"Atter de war my paw an' mammy went ter live on Mr. Moore's plantation
an' we had a hard time. A whole heap o' times I has had nothin' ter eat
but one cupful o' peas an' a hunk of co'nbread all day long. A white
lady, Mis' Douglas give me a quart of milk eber Sunday, but I had ter
walk three miles fer hit.
"We ain't wucked none in slavery days ter what we done atter de war,
an' I wisht dat de good ole slave days wus back.
"Dar's one thing, we ole niggers wus raised right an' de young niggers
ain't. Iffen I had my say-so dey'd burn down de nigger schools, gibe
dem pickanninies a good spankin' an' put 'em in de patch ter wuck,
ain't no nigger got no business wid no edgercation nohow.
"Yes'um, dey says dat I is a murderer". Uncle William stroked his long
white beard. "I runned from dis young nigger seberal times, an' I wus
tryin' ter run wid my knife what I had been whittlin' wid open in my
han'. I wus skeerd nigh ter death, so when he grabs me I throw up my
han's an' in a minute he falls. I breshes de blood offen my coat,
thinkin' dat he has hurt me, an' I sees de blood pourin' from de
jugular vein.
"I has sarved ten months o' my sentence which dey gived me, three ter
five years fer manslaughter; what could I do? I stood up an' I said,
'Thank you, Jedge.'"
L.E.
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