PLANTATION SKETCHES

BY

MARGARET DEVEREUX

PRIVATELY PRINTED AT
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
MDCCCCVI

MAMMY

COPYRIGHT 1906 BY MARGARET DEVEREUX
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

EDITOR’S PREFACE

The descriptions of Southern life in this little book, as well as the accompanying stories, were written by Mrs. Devereux during the past fifteen years, in large part after she had passed her sixty-fifth year. They are essentially reminiscent, and were prepared originally with no thought of publication, but merely to be read to her grandchildren, so that there might be preserved in their minds some conception of the old-time lives of their grandparents. The sketches thus came to be read by me to my own children, who are of the third generation. They brought to my mind so simply, yet so vividly and in so attractive a manner, a picture of the old plantation life, they showed such remarkable memory of interesting details, that they seemed to me to merit publication. The charm of the descriptions will impress all readers, and the truthfulness of the illustrations of negro character and habits will be recognized by all who are familiar with the South. The sketches are simple, homely little tales prepared for children, and they must be read with this fact in mind; but they have nevertheless an interest and a lesson for maturer readers, to whom they are now offered.

Arthur Winslow

18 Chestnut St., Boston, Mass.

April 27, 1906

CONTENTS

TO MY GRANDCHILDREN

As the “New South,” with all its changes and improvements, rises above the horizon, those whose hearts still cling to the “Old South” look sadly backward and sigh to see it fade away into dimness, to be soon lost to sight and to live only in the memory of the few. Hoping to rescue from oblivion a few of the habits, thoughts, and feelings of the people who made our South what it was, I have drawn from memory a few pen sketches of plantation life, based upon actual events, in which are recorded some of the good and even noble traits of character which were brought forth under the yoke of slavery.

For you, my dear grandchildren, I have tried to fix, before they fade entirely, these already faint reflections from the “light of other days.”

Margaret Devereux.

Raleigh, North Carolina.

December, 1905.

PLANTATION LIFE

I am going to try to describe to you something of the lives and homes of your dear grandfather and of your great-grandfather, because I want you to know something of them, because their mode of life was one of which scarcely a vestige is left now, and because, finally, I don’t want you to be led into the misconception held by some that Southern planters and slaveholders were cruel despots, and that the life of the negro slaves on the plantation was one of misery and sorrow.

Before I enter upon my brief narrative I want you to realize that it is all strictly true, being based upon my knowledge of facts; very simple and homely in its details, but with the merit of entire truthfulness.

Your great-grandfather, Thomas Pollock Devereux, and your grandfather, John Devereux, were planters upon an unusually large scale in North Carolina; together they owned eight large plantations and between fifteen and sixteen hundred negroes. Their lands, situated in the rich river bottoms of Halifax and Bertie counties, were very fertile, the sale crops being corn, cotton, and droves of hogs, which were sent to Southampton county, Virginia, for sale.

The names of your great-grandfather’s plantations were Conacanarra, Feltons, Looking Glass, Montrose, Polenta, and Barrows, besides a large body of land in the counties of Jones and Hyde. His residence was at Conacanarra, where the dwelling stood upon a bluff commanding a fine view of the Roanoke river, and, with the pretty house of the head overseer, the small church, and other minor buildings, looked like a small village beneath the great elms and oaks.

Your grandfather’s principal plantation, and our winter home, was Runiroi, in Bertie county. The others were “The Lower Plantation” and “Over the Swamp.” At Runiroi we lived and called ourselves at home, and of it I have preserved the clearest recollection and the fondest memories.

From Kehukee bluff, which we usually