spell of hard times after the wars.”

#653

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Jennie Wormly Gibson
Biscoe, Arkansas
Age: 49

“Gran’ma was Phoebe West. Mama was Jennie West. Mama was a little girl when the Civil War come on. She told how scared her uncle was. He didn’t want to go to war. When they would be coming if he know it or get glimpse of the Yankee soldiers, he’d pick up my mama. She was a baby. He’d run for a quarter of a mile to a great big tree down in the field way back of the place off the road. He never had to go to war. Ma said she was little but she was scared at the sight of them clothes they wore. Mama’s and grandma’s owners lived at Vicksburg a lot of the time but where that was at Washington County, Mississippi. They had lots of slaves.

“Grandma was a midwife and doctored all the babies on the place. She said they had a big room where they was and a old woman kept them. They et milk for breakfast and buttermilk and clabber for supper. They always had bread. For dinner they had meat boiled and one other thing like cabbage, and the children got the pot-liquor. It was brought in a cart and poured in wooden troughs. They had gourds to dip it out with. They had gourds to drink their cool spring water with.

“Daylight would find the hands in the field at work. Grandma said they had meat and bread and coffee till the war come on. They had to have a regular meal to work on in the morning.

“Grandma said their something to eat got mighty slim in war times and kept getting slimmer and slimmer. They had plenty sorghum all the time. Them troughs was hewed out of a log and was washed and hung in the sun till next mealtime. They cooked in iron pots and skillets on the fire. Grandma worked where they put her but her main trade was seeing after the sick on that place.

“They had a fiddler on the place and had big dances now and then.

“This young generation won’t be advised no way you can fix it. I don’t know what in the world the folks is looking about. The folks ain’t good as they used to be. They shoots craps and drinks and does low-down things all the time. I ain’t got no time with the young generation. Times gone to pieces pretty bad if you axing me.”

#728

Interviewer: Watt McKinney
Person interviewed: James Gill
R.F.D. Marvell, Arkansas
Age: 86
Occupation: Farmer

“Uncle Jim” Gill, an ex-slave eighty-six years of age, owns a nice two hundred acre farm five miles north of Marvell where he has lived for the past thirty-five years. “Uncle Jim” is an excellent citizen, prosperous and conservative and highly respected by both white and colored. This is molasses making time in the South and I found “Uncle Jim” busily engaged in superintending the process of cooking the extracted juice from a large quantity of sorghum cane. The familiar type of horse-power mill in which the cane is crushed was in full operation, a roaring fire was blazing in the crudely constructed furnace beneath the long pan that contained the furiously foaming, boiling juice and that “Uncle Jim” informed me was “nigh ’bout done” and ready to drain off into the huge black pot that stood by the side of the furnace. The purpose of my visit was explained and “Uncle Jim” leaving the molasses making to some younger Negro accompanied me to the shade of a large oak tree that stood near-by and told me the following story:

“My ole mars, he was name Tom White and my young mars what claimed me, he was name Jeff. Young mars an’ me was just ’bout same age. Us played together from time I fust riccolect till us left de ole home place back in Alabama and lit out for over here in Arkansas.

“Ole mars, he owned a heap of niggers back dere where us all lived on de big place but de lan’, it was gittin’ poor an’ red and mought near wore out; so ole mars, he ’quired a big lot of lan’ here in Arkansas in Phillips County, but you know it was all in de woods den ’bout fifteen miles down de ribber from Helena and just thick wid canebrakes. So he sont ’bout twenty famblies ober here end dats how us happened to come ’cause my pappy, he was a extra blacksmith and carpenter and ole mars knowed he gwine to haf to hab him to ’sist in buildin’ de houses and sich like.

“Though I was just ’bout seben year ole den, howsomeever, I ’member it well an’ I sure did hate to leave de ole home where I was borned and I didn’ want leave Mars Jeff either and when Mars Jeff foun’ it out ’bout ’em gwine take me he cut up awful and just went on, sayin’ I his nigger and wasn’t gwine ’way off to Arkansas.

“Ole mars, he knowed my mammy and pappy, dey wasn’t gwine be satisfied widout all dere chillun wid ’em, so en course I was brung on too. You see, ole mars and he fambly, dey didn’ come and we was sont under de oberseer what was name Jim Lynch and us come on de train to Memphis and dat was when I got so skeered ’cause I hadn’ nebber seen no train ’fore den an’ I just hollered an’ cried an’ went on so dat my mammy say if I didn’ hush up she gwine give me to de paddy rollers.

“Dey put us on de steamboat at Memphis and de nex’ I ’member was us gittin’ off at de landin’. It was in de winter time ’bout las’ of January us git here and de han’s was put right to work clearin’ lan’ and buildin’ cabins. It was sure rich lan’ den, boss, and dey jus’ slashed de cane and deaden de timber and when cotton plantin’ time come de cane was layin’ dere on de groun’ crisp dry and day sot fire to it and burned it off clean and den planted de crops.

“Ole mars, he would come from Alabama to see ’bout de bizness two an’ three times every year and on some of dem ’casions he would bring Mars Jeff wid him and Mars Jeff, he allus nebber failed to hab somethin’ for me, candy and sich like, and dem times when Mars Jeff come was when we had de fun. Us just run wild playin’ and iffen it was in de summer time we was in de bayou swimmin’ or fishin’ continual but all dem good times ceasted atter a while when de War come and de Yankees started all dere debbilment. Us was Confedrits all de while, leastwise I means my mammy an’ my pappy and me an’ all de res’ of de chillun ’cause ole mars was and Mars Jeff would er fit ’em too and me wid him iffen we had been ole enough.

“But de Yankees, dey didn’ know dat we was Confedrits, dey jus’ reckon we like most all de res’ of de niggers. Us was skeered of dem Yankees though ’cause us chillun cose didn’ know what dey was and de oberseer, Jim Lynch, dey done tole us little uns dat a Yankee was somepin what had one great big horn on he haid and just one eye and dat right in de middle of he breast and, boss, I sure was s’prized when I seen a sure ’nough Yankee and see he was a man just like any er de res’ of de folks.

“De war tore up things right sharp yit an’ still it wasn’t so bad here in Arkansas as I hear folks tell it was back in de yolder states like Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia. De bes’ I riccolect de Yankees come in here ’bout July of de year and dey had a big scrap in Helena wid ’em and us could hear de cannons fifteen miles off and den dey would make dere trips out foragin’ for stuff, corn and sich, and dey would take