all de cotton dey could fin’, but our mens, dey would hide de cotton in de thickets an’ canebrakes iffen dey had time or either dey would burn it up ’fore de Yankees come if dey could. I ’member one day we had on han’ ’bout hundred bales at de gin and a white man come wid orders to de oberseer to git rid of it, so dey started to haulin’ it off to de woods and dey hauled off ’bout fifty bales and den dey see dey wasn’t goin’ to hab time to git de res’ to de woods and den dey commenced cuttin’ de ties on de bales so dey could set fire to dem dat dey hadn’ hid yit and ’bout dat time here come one of Mr. Tom Casteel’s niggers just a flyin’ on a mule wid a letter to de white man. Mr. Tom Casteel, he had he place just up de ribber from us, on de island, and when he gived de letter to de man an de man read it, he said de Yankees is comin’ and he lit out for de ribber where de boat was waitin’ for him and got ’way and dere was all dat loose cotton on de groun’ and us was skeered to sit fire to de cotton den and ’bout dat time de Yankees arive and say don’ you burn dat cotton and dey looked all ober de place and find de bales dat was hid in de woods and de nex’ day dey come and haul it off and dey say us niggers can hab dat what de ties been cut on and my mammy, she set to work and likewise de odder women what de Yankees say can had de loose cotton and tie up all dey can in bags and atter dat us sold it to de Yankees in Helena for a dollar a poun’ and dat was all de money us had for a long time.

“How-some-ever us all lived good ’cause dere was heap of wild hogs an’ ’possums and sich and we had hid a heap of corn and us did fine. Sometimes de war boats, dey would pass on de ribber—dat is de Yankee boats—and us would hide ’hind de trees and bushes and see dem pass. We wouldn’t let dem see us though ’cause we thought dey would shoot. Heap en heap er times sojers would come by us place. When de Yankees ud come dey would ax my mammy, ‘Aunt Mary, is you seen any Se-cesh today?’ and mammy, she ud say ‘Naw suh’ eben iffen she had seen some of us mens, but when our sojers ud come and say, ‘Aunt Mary, is you seen ary Yankee ’round here recent?’ she ud allus tell dem de truf. Dey was a bunch of us sojers, dat is de Confedrits, what used to stay ’round in de community constant, dat we knowed, but dey allus had to be on de dodge ’cause dere was so many more Yankees dan dem.

“Some of dese men I ’member good ’cause dey was us closest neighbors and some of dem libed on ’j’ining places. Dere was Mr. Lum Shell, Mr. Tom Stoneham, Mr. Bob Yabee, Mr. Henry Rabb and Mr. Tom Casteel. Dem I ’member well ’cause dey come to us cabin right of’en and mammy, she ud cook for ’em and den atter de niggers git dey freedom dey could leave de place any time dey choose and every so of’en mammy ud go to Helena and gin’rally she took me wid her to help tote de things she get dere. Ole Mr. Cooledge, he had de biggest and ’bout de onliest store dat dere was in Helena at dat time. Mr. Cooledge, he was a ole like gentleman and had everything most in he store—boots, shoes, tobacco, medicine en so on. Cose couldn’t no pusson go in an’ outen Helena at dat time—dat is durin’ war days—outen dey had a pass and de Yankee sojer dat writ de passes was named Buford en he is de one what us allus git our passes from for to git in en out and ’twasn’t so long ’fore Mr. Buford, he git to know my mammy right well and call her by her name. He, just like all de white mens, knowed her as ‘Aunt Mary’, but him nor none of de Yankees knowed dat mammy was a Confedrit and dats somepin I will tell you, boss.

“Dese sojers dat I is just named and dat was us neighbors, dey ud come to our cabin sometimes en say, ‘Aunt Mary, we want you to go to Helena for us and git some tobacco, and mebbe some medicine, and so on, and we gwine write ole man Cooledge er note for you to take wid you’; and mammy, she ud git off for town walking and ud git de note to ole man Cooledge. Ole man Cooledge, you see, boss, he sided wid de Confedrites too but he didn’ let on dat he did but all de Confedrit sojers ’round dar in de county, dey knowed dey could ’pend on him and when my mammy ud take de note in ole man Cooledge, he ud fix mammy up in some of dem big, wide hoop skirts and hide de things ’neath de skirts dat de men sont for. Den she and sometimes me wid her, us would light out for home and cose we allus had our pass and dey knowed us and we easy git by de pickets and git home wid de goods for those sojer men what sont us.

“Speakin’ from my own pussonal ’sperience, boss, de niggers was treated good in slavery times, dat is dat was de case wid my mars’ peoples. Our mars wouldn’t hab no mistreatment of his niggers but I’ze heered tell dat some of de mars was pretty mean to dere niggers, but twasn’t so wid us ’cause us had good houses and plenty somepin to eat outen de same pot what de white folks’ victuals cooked in and de same victuals dat dey had. You see dat ole kittle settin’ ober dar by de lasses pan right now? Well, I is et many a meal outen dat kittle in slavery times ’cause dat is de very same kittle dat dey used to cook us victuals in when us belonged to ole mars, Tom White, and lived on he place down on de ribber. It was den, boss, just same wid white men as ’tis in dis day and time. Dere is heap of good white folks now and dere is a heap of dem what ain’t so good. You know dat’s so, boss, don’t you?

“When de niggers been made free, de oberseer, he called all de peoples up and he says, ‘You all is free now and you can do like you please. You can stay on here and make de crops ur you can leave which-some-ever you want to do.’ And wid dat de niggers, dat is most of dem, lef’ like when you leave de lot gate open where is a big litter of shotes and dey just hit de road and commenced to ramble. Most of ’em, dey go on to Helena and gits dey grub from de Yankees and stay dar till de Yankees lef’.

“But us, we stay on de place and some more, dey stay too and you know, boss, some of dem niggers what belonged to old mars and what he was so good to, dey stole mighty nigh all de mules and rode dem off and mars, he never git he mules back. Naw suh, dat he didn’. De war, it broke ole mars up and atter de surrender he jus’ let he Arkansas farm go an’ never come back no more. Some of de older peoples, dey went back to Alabama time er two and seen ole mars but I nebber did git to see him since us was sot free. But Mars Jeff, he comed here all de way from de home in Alabama way atter he was growed. It’s been ’bout fifty year now since de time he was here and I sure was proud to see him, dat I was, boss, ’cause I sure did love Mars Jeff and I loves him yit to dis day iffen he still lives and iffen he daid which I ain’t never heered er not, den I loves and ’spects he memory.

“Yas suh, boss, times is changed sure ’nough but like I ’splained ’bout white folks and it’s de same wid niggers, some is good and trys to lib right en some don’ keer and jus’ turns loose en don’ restrain demselves.

“You know, boss, dere is heaps of niggers wid white blood in ’em and dat mess was started way back yonder I reckon ’fore I was ever borned. Shucks, I knowed it was long afore den but it wasn’t my kine er white folks what ’sponsible for dat, it was de low class like some of de oberseers and den some of de yother folks like for instance de furriners what used to come in de country and work at jobs de mars ud give ’em to do on the places like carpentrying an’ sich. I knowed one bad case, boss, dat happened right dere by us place and dat was de