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(Baldwin County, AL. Gertha Courie, John Morgan Smith, Federal Writers Project)
On a high knoll overlooking the winding Chewalla Creek is a little one room shack. Its rusty hinges and weather-beaten boards have seen many a glowing sunset; have stood against many high winds and rains, they have for many years sheltered Aunt Hannah Irwin, ex-slave. Now the old Negro woman is too old and feeble to venture very often from her small home. She lives almost in solitude with her memories of the past, and an occasional visit from one of her old friends who perhaps brings her some fruit or a little money.
"Yas'm, I'll be pleased to tell you 'bout whut I remembers aroun' de time of de War." Aunt Hannah sat stolidly in a chair that virtually groaned under her weight; and gave utterance to this sentiment through a large thick mouth, while her gold ear rings shook with every turn of her head, and her dim eyes glowed with memory's fires. "Dere ain't much I can tell you, dough," she went on, "kaze I was only twelve years old when de war ended.
"I was bawn on Marse Bennett's plantation near Louisville, Alabama. Ma Mammy's name was Hester an' my pappy was named Sam.
"I remembers one night raghtatter de war when de re'struction was a-goin' on. Dere was some niggers not far fum our place dat said dey was a-goin' to take some lan' dat warn't deres. Dere massa had been kilt in de war an' warn't nobody'ceptin' de mistis an' some chilluns. Well, Honey, dem niggers, mo'dan one hundred of 'em, commenced a riot an' a-takin' things dat don't belong to 'em. Dat night de white lady she come ober to our place wid a wild look on her face. She tell Massa Bennett, whut dem niggers is up to, an' wid out sayin' a word massa Bennett, putt his hat on and lef' out de do'. Twarn't long atter dat when some hosses was heered down de road, an' I look out my cabin window which was raght by de road, an' I saw a-comin' up through de trees a whole pack of ghosties; I thought dey was, anyways. Dey was all dressed in white, an' dere hosses was white an' dey galloped fasten dan de win' raght past my cabin. Den I heered a nigger say: 'De Ku Klux is atter somebody.'
"Dem Ku Klux went ober to dat lady's plantation an' told dem niggers dat iffen dey ever heered of 'em startin' anythingmo' dat dey are a-goin' to tie 'em all to trees in de fores' till dey all died f'um being hongry. Atter dat dese niggers all 'roun' Louisville, dey kept mighty quiet.
"No m'am, I don't believes in no conjurin'. Dese conjure women say dat dey will make my hip well iffen I gives 'em half my rations I gits fum de gover'ment, but I knows dey ain't nothin' but low-down, nocount niggers."
"Speaking of the Ku Klux, Aunt Hannah. Were you afraid of them?"
"Naw'm, I warn't afered of no Ku Klux. At fu'st I though dat dey was ghosties and den I was afeered of 'em, but atter I found out dat Massa Bennett was one of dem things, I was always proud of 'em."
"Well, what about the Yankees?" he was asked. "Did you ever see any Yankees; and what did you think of the ones that came through your place? Were you glad that they set you free?"
"I suppose dem Yankees was all right in dere place," she continued, "but dey neber belong in de South. Why, Miss, one of 'em axe me what am dem white flowers in de fiel'? You'd think dat a gentnen wid all dem decorations on hisself woulda knowed a fiel' of cotton. An' as for dey a-settin' me free! Miss, us niggers on de Bennett place was free as soon as we was bawn. I always been free."
(Wash. Copy, 3/25/27, gt.)
