Sparks Elisabeth

(Interviewed at Matthews Court House, Virginia January 13, 1937 By Claude. Anderson.)

Come in boys. Sure am glad ter see ya. You're lookin' so well. That's what I say. Fight boys! Hold em! You're doin' alright. He, I 'm so mean nothin' can hurt me. What's that! You want me to tell yer 'bout slavery days. Well I kin tell yer, but I ain't. S'all part now; so I say let 'or rest 's too awful to tell anyway. yer'rs too young to know all that talk anyway. All I'll tell yer some to put in yer bock, but I ain'ta goin' tell yer the worse. My mistress's name was Miss Jennie Brown. Mo, I guess I'd better not tell yer. Done forgot about dat. Oh well, I'll tell yer. Some, I guess. She died 'bout four years ago. Bless her. She 'us a good woman. Course I mean she'd slap an' beat yer once in a while but she warn't me woman fur fighting fussin' an' boatin' yer all day lak some I know. She was too young when da war ended fur that. Course no while folks perfect. Her parents a little rough, Whut dat? Kin I tell yer about her parents? Lord yes! I wasn't born then but my parents told me. But I ain't a goin' tell yer nuffin. No I ain't. Tain't no sense fur yer ta know 'bout all those mean white folks. Dey all daid now. They meany good I reckon. Leastways most of 'em got salvation on their death beds.

Tell I'll tell yer some, but I ain'ta goin' tell yer much more. Me sir. Shop Piller was my master. His el' father, he was a tough one. Lord! I've seen 'im kill 'em. He'd git the meanest overseers to put over 'em. Why I member time after he was dead when I'd peep in the closet an' jes' see his old clothes hangin' there am' jes' fly. Yessir, I'd run from them clothes an' I was jes' a little girl then. He was that way with them black folks. Is he im heaven! No, he ain't in heaven! Went past heaven. He was clerk an' was he tough! Sometimes he boat 'em until they couldn't work. Give 'em more work than they could de. They'd git beatin' if they didn't get work done. Bought my mother, a little girl, when he was married. She was a real christian am' he respected her a little. Didn't boat her so much. Course he boat her once in a while. Shop Miller was terrible. There was me and to the beatin' I saw it wif my own eyes.

Boat women! Why sure he boat women. Boat women jes' lak men. Beat women asked an' wash 'em down in brine, Same times they boat 'em so bad, they jes' wouldn't stand it an' they run away to the woods. If yer git in the woods, they wouldn't git yer. Yer could hide am' people slip yer somepin' to eat. Than he sall yer every day. After while he tell one of colored fereman tell yer some an bask. He ain'ta goin' beat yer anymore. They had colored foreman but they always have a white overseer. Foreman git yer to come back an' then he boat yer to death again.

They worked six days fum sun to sun. If they forein' wheat or other crops, they start to work long 'fo day. Usual work day began when the born blow an' stop when the horn blow. They git off jes' long 'nuf to eat at mean. Didn't have much to eat. They git some suet an' slice a bread fo' breakfas, Hell, they give the colored people an allowance every week. Fe' dinner they'd eat ash cake baked on blade of a hoe.

I lived at Seaford then an' was roun' fifteen or sixteen when my mistress married. Shop Miller lived at Springdale. I 'member jes' as well when they gave as to Jennie. We was all in a room helpin' her dress. She was soon to be married, an' she turns 'roun an' sos to us. Which of yer niggers think I'm gonna git when I git married? We all say, 'I dean knew,'An' she looks right at me an' point her finger at me like this an' said 'yer!' I was so glad. I had to make 'or believe I 'us cryin', but I was glad to go with 'or. She didn't boat. She was jes' a. young thing. Course she take a whack at me sometime. but that waren't puffin'. Her mother was a mean ol' thin'. She'd boat yer with a broom of a leather strap or anythin' she'd git her hands on.

She water make my aunt Carelise knit all day an' when she git so tired aftah dark that she'd git sleepy, she'd make 'er stas' up an kait. She work her se hard that she'd ge te sleep standin' up am' every time her haid sed an' her knees sag, the lady'd some down dress her haid with a switch. That wus Miss Jeanie's mother. She'd give the sock Jes se much meal to make bread fum am' effen she burnt it, she'd be scared to death cause they'd whup her. I 'member plenty of times the sack ask say. 'Marsa please 'occuse dis bread, hits a little too brown. 'Yessir! Boat the devil out 'er if she burn dat bread.

I went wif Miss Jennie an' worked at house. I didn't have to cook. I get permission te git married. Yer always had to git permission. white folks 'ud give yer away. Yer jump cross a broom stick tergether an' yer wus married. My husband' lived on another plantation. I slep' in my mistress's room but I ain't slep' in any bed. Nosir! I slep' on a carpet, an' ole rug, befo' the fiahplace. I had to git permission to go to church, everybody did. We ?? set in the gallery at the white folks service in the mornin' an' in the evenin' the folk held baptise service in the gallery wif white present

Shop went to war but not for long. We didn't see none of it, but the slaves know what the war was 'bout. After the war they tried to fool the slaves 'bout freedom an' wanted to keep 'em on a workin' but the Yankees told 'em they wus free. They sent some of the slaves to South Carolina. When the Yankees came near to keep the Yankees from gittin' 'em. Our cousin James to South Carolina. I nevah will forgit when the Yankees came through. They was takin' all the live-stock an' all the men slaves back to Norfolk, wid 'em to break up the system. White folks head wus jos' goin' to keep en havin' slaves. The slaves wanted freedom, but they's scared to tell the white folks so. Anyway the Yankees wus givin' everything to the slaves. I kim heah 'em tellin' el' Missy now. Yes! give'er clothes. Let'er take anythin' she wants." They even tesk some of Miss Jennie's things an' offered 'em to me. I didn't take 'em the' cause she'd been purty nice to me. Whut tickled me wus my husban', John Sparks. He didn't want to leave me an' ge cause he didn't knew whah they's takin' 'em nor what they's gonna do, but he wanted to be free se he played lame to keep fun goin'. He was jes' a limpin' 'round. It was all I could de to keep fun laffin'. I kin hear Miss Jennie now yellin' at than Yankees. He! who are yer to judge. I'll be the judge. If John Sparks wants to stay here, he'll stay they was gonna take 'im anyhow an' he want inside to pack an' the baby started cryin'. Se one of 'em said that as long as he had a wife an' a baby that young they guess he could stay. They tock all the horses, cove, and pigs and chickens an' anything they would use an' left. I was about nineteen when I married. I was married in 1861, my eldest boy was born in 1862 an' the fallin' of Richmond came in 1865. Before Miss Jennis was married she was born an' lived at her old home right up the river heah. Yer kin one the place fum out side heah. On the plantation my mother was a house woman. She had to wash white folks clothes all day an' huh's after dark. Sometimes she'd be washin' clothes way up 'round midnight. Nosr, couldn't wash any nigguh's clothes in daytime. My mother lived in a big one room log house wif an' upstairs. Sometimes the white folks give yer 'bout tem cents to spond. A woman with children 'ud git 'bout half bushel of meal a weeks a childless woman 'ud git 'bout a peck an' a half of meal a week. If yer was workin', they'd give yer shoes. Children went barefooted, the yeah 'round. The men on the road got one cotton shirt an' jacket. I had five sisters an' five brothers. Might as well quit lookin' an me. I ain't gonna tell yer any more. Cain't tell yer all I know. Shop might some back an' git me. Why if I was to tell yer the really bad things, some of de daid white folks would come right up outen dere graves. Well, I'll tell somewhere, but I cain't tell all. Once in a while they was free nigguhs come fum somewhah. They could come see yer if yer was their folks. Nigguhs used to go way off in quarters an' slip an' have meetins. They sailed it stealin' the meetin'. The children used to teach me to read. Schools! Son, there warm't no schools for niggers. Slaves want to bed when they didn't have anything to do. Most time they want to bed when they could. Sometimes the men had to shuck corn till eleven and twelve o'clock at might.

If you went out at night the paddyrole 'ud catch yer if yer was out aftah time without a pass. Mos' a the slaves was afeared to go out.

Plenty of slaves ran away. If they ketch 'em they boat 'em near to death.

But yer know day's good an' bad people every where. That's the way the white folks wus. Some had hearts; some had gizzards 'stead o' hearts.

When my mothers's master died, he called my mother an' brother Major an' get religion an' talked so party. He say he so sorry that he hadn't found the Lord before an' had muttin' gainst his colored people. He was sorry an' scared, but confessed. My mother died twenty years since then at the age of seventy-fo'. She wus very religious an' all white folks set store to 'er.

Old Massa done so much wrongness I couldn't tell yer all of it. Slave girl Betty Lilly always had good clothes an' all the privilages. She wus a favorite of his'm. But cain't tell all! God's got all! To uster sing a song when he was shippin' the slaves to sell 'em 'bout "Masea's Gwyne Soll Us Termerrer." No. I cain't sing it for yer. My husban' lived on the plantation nex' to my mistress. He lived with a bachelor master. He tell us say once when he was a pickinnany el' Marss Williams shot at 'im. He didn't shoot 'em; he jes' shoot in the air an' ol' man wus so sceered he ran home an' got in his mammy's bed. Massa Williams uster play wif 'em; then day got so bad that they'ud run an' grab 'is laigs so's he couldn't hardly walk so when he seen 'em he jes' shoots in de air.  Massa, he, jes' come on up ter the cabin an' may "mammy whah dat boy?" She say, in dah undah the bed. Yer done scared 'im to deaf! ' Massa go on in an' say, Boy! That's the mattah wid yer. Boy say, yer shot me master yer shot me! Master say, Ar Gwan! -- Git up an' come along. I ain't shot yer. I jes' shot an' scared yer. Hah! Heh! Heh! Yessir my ol' husban' sayed he sure was scared that day.

New yer take dat an' go. Put that in the book. Yer kis make out wif dat. I ain't a gonna tell yer me more. Nosir. The and a time is at hand anyway. 'Tain't no use ter write a book. The Bible say when it git so's yer cain't tell one season from t'other the worl's comin' to end ;hers hit is se warn in wister that if feels like summer. Goodbye. Keep lookin' good an' com again.