Name: McWhorter, William

Address: 383 W. Broad Street Athens, Georgia

Age: 78

Written by: Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby (Athens)

Edited by: Sarah H. Hall (Athens) and John N. Booth (District Supervisor Federal Writers' Project Residencies 6 & 7)

Citation: Federal Writers' Project: Slave Narrative Project, Vol. 4, Part 3, Kendricks-Styles (1936), Library of Congress, Manuscript/Mixed Material. https://www.loc.gov/item/mesn043/

Interview

The rambling, one-story frame building where William McWhorter makes his
home with his cousin, Sarah Craddock, houses several families and is proudly referred to
by the neighbors as "de 'partment house."

William, better known as "Shug," is a very black man of medium build. He wore
a black slouch hat pulled well down over tangled gray hair, a dingy blue shirt, soiled gray
pants, and black shoes. The smile faded from his face when he learned the nature of the
visit. "I thought you was de pension lady 'comin' to fetch me some money," he said, "and
'stid of dat you wants to know 'bout slavery days. I'se disapp'inted.

"Mistess, it's been a long time since I was born on Marse Joe McWhorter's
plantation down in Greene County and I was jus' a little fellow when slavery was done
over wid. Allen and Martha McWhorter was my ma and pa. Pa, he was de carriage driver,
and ma, she was a field hand. Dey brought her here from Oingebug (Orangeburg), South
Carolina, and sold her to Marse Joe when she was jus' a little gal. Me and Annie, Ella,
Jim, and Tom was all de chillun in our fambly, and none of us warn't big enough to do no
wuk to speak of 'fore de end of de big war. You see, Mistess, it was lak dis; Marse Joe, he
owned a old 'oman what didn't do nothin' 'cept stay at de house and look atter us chillun,
and dat was one of dem plantations whar dere was sho a heap of slave chillun.

"'Bout our houses? Mistess, I'se gwine to tell you de trufe, dem houses slaves had
to live in, dey warn't much, but us didn't know no better den. Dey was jus' one-room log
cabins wid stick and dirt chimblies. De beds for slaves was home-made and was held
together wid cords wove evvy which away. If you didn't tighten dem cords up pretty
offen your bed was apt to fall down wid you. Suggin sacks was sewed together to make
our mattress ticks and dem ticks was filled wid straw. Now, don't tell me you ain't heared
of suggin sacks a-fore! Dem was coarse sacks sort of lak de guano sacks us uses now.
Dey crowded jus' as many Niggers into each cabin as could sleep in one room, and
marriage never meant a thing in dem days when dey was 'rangin' sleepin' quarters for
slaves. Why, I knowed a man what had two wives livin' in de same cabin; one of dem
'omans had all boys and t'other one didn't have nothin' but gals. It's nigh de same way
now, but dey don't live in de same house if a man's got two famblies.

"I 'members dat my pa's ma, Grandma Cindy, was a field hand, but by de time I
was old 'nough to take things in she was too old for dat sort of wuk and Marster let her do
odd jobs 'round de big house. De most I seed her doin' was settin' 'round smokin' her old
corncob pipe. I was named for Grandpa Billy, but I never seed him.

"Mistess, does you know what you'se axin'? Whar was slaves to git money whilst
dey was still slaves? Dere warn't but a few of 'em dat knowed what money even looked
lak 'til atter dey was made free.

"Now, you is talkin' 'bout somepin sho 'nough when you starts 'bout dem victuals.
Marse Joe, he give us plenty of sich as collards, turnips and greens, peas, 'taters, meat,
and cornbread. Lots of de cornbread was baked in pones on spiders, but ashcakes was a
mighty go in dem days. Marster raised lots of cane so as to have plenty of good syrup.
My pa used to 'possum hunt lots and he was 'lowed to keep a good 'possum hound to trail
'em wid. Rabbits and squirrels was plentiful and dey made mighty good eatin'. You ain't
never seed sich heaps of fish as slaves used to fetch back atter a little time spent fishin' in
de cricks and de river.

"De kitchen was sot off from de big house a little piece, but Old Marster had a
roof built over de walkway so fallin' weather wouldn't spile de victuals whilst dey was
bein' toted from de kitchen in de yard to de dinin' room in de big house. I don't reckon
you ever seed as big a fireplace as de one dey cooked on in dat old kitchen. It had plenty
of room for enough pots, skillets, spiders, and ovens to cook for all de folks on dat
plantation. No, mam, slaves never had no gardens of deir own; dey never had no time of
deir own to wuk no garden, but Old Marster fed 'em from his garden and dat was big
enough to raise plenty for all.

"De one little cotton shirt dat was all chillun wore in summertime den warn't
worth talkin' 'bout; dey called it a shirt but it looked more lak a long-tailed nightgown to
me. For winter, our clothes was made of wool cloth and dey was nice and warm. Mistess,
slaves never knowed what Sunday clothes was, 'cept dey did know dey had to be clean on
Sunday. No matter how dirty you went in de week-a-days, you had to put on clean
clothes Sunday mornin'. Uncle John Craddock made shoes for all de grown folks on our
plantation, but chillun went barfoots and it never seemed to make 'em sick; for a fact, I
b'lieves dey was stouter den dan dey is now.

"Marse Joe McWhorter and his wife, Miss Emily Key, owned us, and dey was jus'
as good to us as dey could be. Mistess, you knows white folks had to make slaves what
b'longed to 'em mind and be-have deyselfs in dem days or else dere woulda been a heap
of trouble. De big fine house what Marse Joe and his fambly lived in sot in a cedar grove
and Woodville was de town nighest de place. Oh! Yes, mam, dey had a overseer all right,
but I'se done forgot his name, and somehow I can't git up de names of Marse Joe's
chillun. I'se been sick so long my mem'ry ain't as good as it used to be, and since I lost
my old 'oman 'bout 2 months ago, I don't 'spect I ever kin reckomember much no more. It
seems lak I'se done told you my pa was Marse Joe's carriage driver. He driv de fambly
whar-some-ever dey wanted to go.

"I ain't got no idee how many acres was in dat great big old plantation, but I'se
heared 'em say Marse Joe had to keep from 30 to 40 slaves, not countin' chillun, to wuk
dat part of it dat was cleared land. Dey told me, atter I was old enough to take it in, dat de
overseer sho did drive dem slaves; dey had to be up and in de field 'fore sunup and he
wuked 'em 'til slap, black dark. When dey got back to de big house, 'fore dey et supper,
de overseer got out his big bull whip and beat de ones dat hadn't done to suit him durin'
de day. He made 'em strip off deir clothes down to de waist, and evvywhar dat old bull
whip struck it split de skin. Dat was awful, awful! Sometimes slaves dat had been beat
and butchered up so bad by dat overseer man would run away, and next day Aunt Suke
would be sho to go down to de spring to wash so she could leave some old clothes dar for
'em to git at night. I'se tellin' you, slaves sho did fare common in dem days.

"My Aunt Mary b'longed to Marse John Craddock and when his wife died and left
a little baby - dat was little Miss Lucy - Aunt Mary was nussin' a new baby of her own, so
Marse John made her let his baby suck too. If Aunt Mary was feedin' her own baby and
Miss Lucy started cryin' Marse John would snatch her baby up by the legs and spank him,
and tell Aunt Mary to go on and nuss his baby fust. Aunt Mary couldn't answer him a
word, but my ma said she offen seed Aunt Mary cry 'til de tears met under her chin.

"I ain't never heared nothin' 'bout no jails in slavery time. What dey done den was
'most beat de life out of de Niggers to make 'em be-have. Ma was brung to Bairdstown
and sold on de block to Marse Joe long 'fore I was borned, but I ain't never seed no slaves
sold. Lordy, Mistess, ain't nobody never told you it was agin de law to larn a Nigger to
read and write in slavery time? White folks would chop your hands off for dat quicker
dan dey would for 'most anything else. Dat's jus' a sayin', 'chop your hands off.' Why,
Mistess, a Nigger widout no hands wouldn't be able to wuk much, and his owner couldn't
sell him for nigh as much as he could git for a slave wid good hands. Dey jus' beat 'em up
bad when dey cotched 'em studyin' readin' and writin', but folks did tell 'bout some of de
owners dat cut off one finger evvy time dey cotch a slave tryin' to git larnin'. How-someever,
ders was some Niggers dat wanted larnin' so bed dey would slip out at night and
meet in a deep gully whar dey would study by de light of light'ood torches; but one thing
sho, dey better not let no white folks find out 'bout it, and if dey was lucky 'nough to be
able to keep it up 'til dey larned to read de Bible, dey kept it a close secret.

"Slaves warn't 'lowed to have no churches of dey own and dey had to go to church
wid de white folks. Dere warn't no room for chillun in de Baptist church at Bairdstown
whar Marse Joe tuk his grown-up slaves to meetin', so I never did git to go to none, but
he used to take my ma along, but she was baptized by a white preacher when she jined up
wid dat church. De crick was nigh de church and dat was whar dey done de baptizin'.

"None of our Niggers never knowed enough 'bout de North to run off up dar. Lak
I done told you, some of 'em did run off atter a bad beatin', but dey jus' went to de woods.
Some of 'em come right on back, but some didn't; Us never knowed whar dem what
didn't come back went. Show me a slavery-time Nigger dat ain't heared 'bout paterollers!
Mistess, I 'clar to goodness, paterollers was de devil's own hosses. If dey cotched a
Nigger out and his Marster hadn't fixed him up wid a pass, it was jus' too bad; dey most
kilt him. You couldn't even go to de Lord's house on Sunday 'less you had a ticket sayin':
'Dis Nigger is de propity of Marse Joe McWhorter. Let him go.'

"Dere warn't never no let-up when it come to wuk. When slaves come in from de
fields atter sundown and tended de stock and et supper, de mens still had to shuck corn,
mend hoss collars, cut wood, and sich lak; de 'omans mended clothes, spun thread, wove
cloth, and some of 'em had to go up to de big house and nuss de white folks' babies. One
night my ma had been nussin' one of dem white babies, and atter it dozed off to sleep she
went to lay it in its little bed. De child's foot cotch itself in Marse Joe's galluses dat he
had done hung on de foot of de bed, and when he heared his baby cry Marse Joe woke up
and grabbed up a stick of wood and beat ma over de head 'til he 'most kilt her. Ma never
did seem right atter dat and when she died she still had a big old knot on her head.

"Dey said on some plantations slaves was let off from wuk when de dinner bell
rung on Saddays, but not on our'n; dere warn't never no let-up 'til sundown on Sadday
nights atter dey had tended to de stock and et supper. On Sundays dey was 'lowed to visit
'round a little atter dey had 'tended church, but dey still had to be keerful to have a pass
wid 'em. Marse Joe let his slaves have one day for holiday at Christmas and he give 'em
plenty of extra good somepin t'eat and drink on dat special day. New Year's Day was de
hardest day of de whole year, for de overseer jus' tried hisself to see how hard he could
drive de Niggers dat day, and when de wuk was all done de day ended off wid a big pot
of cornfield peas and hog jowl to eat for luck. Dat was s'posed to be a sign of plenty too.

"Cornshuckin's was a mighty go dem days, and folks from miles and miles around
was axed. When de wuk was done dey had a big time eatin', drinkin', wrestlin', dancin',
and all sorts of frolickin'. Even wid all dat liquor flowin' so free at cornshuckin's I never
heared of nobody gittin' mad, and Marse Joe never said a cross word at his cornshuckin's.
He allus picked bright moonshiny nights for dem big cotton pickin's, and dere warn't
nothin' short 'bout de big eats dat was waitin' for dem Niggers when de cotton was all
picked out. De young folks danced and cut up evvy chanct dey got and called deyselfs
havin' a big time.

"Games? Well, 'bout de biggest things us played when I was a chap was baseball,
softball, and marbles. Us made our own marbles out of clay and baked 'em in de sun, and
our baseballs and softballs was made out of rags.

"Does I know anything 'bout ghosties? Yes, man, I sees ha'nts and ghosties any
time. Jus' t'other night I seed a man widout no head, and de old witches 'most nigh rides
me to death. One of 'em got holt of me night 'fore last and 'most choked me to death; she
was in de form of a black cat. Mistess, some folks say dat to see things lak dat is a sign
your blood is out of order. Now, me, I don't know what makes me see 'em.

"Marse Joe tuk mighty good keer of sick slaves. He allus called in a doctor for
'em, and kept plenty of castor ile, turpentine, and de lak on hand to dose 'em wid. Miss
Emily made teas out of a heap of sorts of leaves, barks, and roots, sich as butterfly root,
pine tops, mullein, catnip and mint leaves, feverfew grass, red oak bark, slippery ellum
bark, and black gum chips. Most evvybody had to wear little sacks of papaw seeds or of
assyfizzy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off diseases.

"Dey used to say dat a free Nigger from de North come through de South and
seed how de white folks was treatin' his race, den he went back up dar and told folks 'bout
it and axed 'em to holp do somepin' 'bout it. Dat's what I heared tell was de way de big
war got started dat ended in settin' slaves free. My folks said dat when de Yankee sojers
come through, Miss Emily was cryin' and takin' on to beat de band. She had all her silver
in her apron and didn't know whar to hide it, so atter awhile she handed it to her cook and
told her to hide it. De cook put it in de woodpile. De Yankee mens broke in de
smokehouse, brought out meat and lard, kilt chickens, driv off cows and hosses, but dey
never found Miss Emily's silver. It was a long time 'fore our fambly left Marse Joe's
place.

"Marse Joe never did tell his Niggers dey was free. One day one of dem Yankee
sojers rid through de fields whar dey was wukin' and he axed 'em if dey didn't know dey
was as free as deir Marster. Dat Yankee kept on talkin' and told 'em dey didn't have to
stay on wid Marse Joe 'less dey wanted to, and dey didn't have to do nothin' nobody told
'em to if dey didn't want to do it. He said dey was deir own bosses and was to do as dey
pleased from de time of de surrender.

"Schools was sot up for slaves not long atter dey was sot free, and a few of de old
Marsters give deir Niggers a little land, but not many of 'em done dat. Jus' as de Niggers
was branchin' out and startin' to live lak free folks, dem nightriders come 'long beatin',
cuttin', and slashin' 'em up, but I 'spects some of dem Niggers needed evvy lick dey got.

"Now, Mistess, you knows all Niggers would ruther be free, and I ain't no diffunt
from nobody else 'bout dat. Yes, mam, I'se mighty glad Mr. Abraham Lincoln and Jeff
Davis fit 'til dey sot us free. Dat Jeff Davis ought to be 'shamed of hisself to want Niggers
kept in bondage; dey says dough, dat he was a mighty good man, and Miss Millie
Rutherford said some fine things 'bout him in her book what Sarah read to me, but you
can't 'spect us Niggers to b'lieve he was so awful good.

"Me and Rosa Barrow had a pretty fair weddin' and a mighty fine supper. I don't
ricollect what she had on, but I'se tellin' you she looked pretty and sweet to me. Our two
boys and three gals is done growed up and I'se got three grandchillun now. Rosa, she died
out 'bout 2 months ago and I'se gwine to marry agin soon as I finds somebody to take
keer of me.

"I was happier de day I jined de church at Sander's Chapel, dan I'se been since. It
was de joyfullest day of all my life, so far. Folks ought to git ready for a better world dan
dis to live in when dey is finished on dis earth, and I'se sho glad our Good Lord saw fit to
set us free from sin and slavery. If he hadn't done it, I sho would have been dead long
ago. Yistidday I picked a little cotton to git me some bread, and it laid me out. I can't wuk
no more. I don't know how de Blessed Lord means to provide for me but I feels sho He
ain't gwine to let me perish."

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