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2300 E. Barraque, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age 82?
"I was here in slavery times, honey, but I don't know exactly how old I m. I was born in Huntsville, Alabama but
you know in them days old folks didn't tell the young folks nothin' and I was so small when they brought me here. I
don't know what year I was born but I believe I'm about eighty-two. You know when a person ain't able to work and
dabble out his own clothes, you know he's gone a long ways.
"My white folks was Ad White what owned me. Called him Marse Ad. Don't call folks marse much now-days.
"My father was sold away from us in Alabama and we heard he was here in Pine Bluff so Aunt Fanny brought us
here. She just had a road full of us and brought us here to Arkansas. We walked. We was a week on the road. I
know we started here on Monday morning and we got here to the courthouse on the next Monday round about noon.
That was that old courthouse. I reckon that ground is in the river now.
"When we got here I saw my father. He took me to his sister --- that was my Aunt Savannah --- and dropped me
down.
"Mrs. Reynolds raised me. She come to Aunt Savannah's house and hired me the very same day I got here. I nussed
Miss Katie. She was bout a month old. You know --- a little long dress baby. Don't wear them long dresses now ---
gettin' wiser.
"Mrs. Reynolds she was good to me. And since she's gone looks like I'm gone too --- gone to the dogs. Cause when
Mrs. Reynolds got a dress for Miss Katie --- got one for me too.
"My father was a soldier in the war. Last time I heard from him I know he was hauling salt to the breastworks. Yes,
I was here in the war. That was all right to me but I wished a many a time I wasn't here.
"I went to school two or three days in a week for about a term. But I didn't learn to read much. Had to hire out and
help raise my brother and sister. I'm goin' to this here government school now. I goes every afternoon.
"Since I got old I can think bout the old times. It comes to me. I didn't pay attention to nothin' much when I was
young.
"Oh Lord, I don't know what's goin' to become of us old folks. Wasn't for the Welfare, I don't know what I'd do.
"I was sixteen when I married. I sure did marry young. I married young so I could see my chillun grown. I never
married but once and I stayed a married woman forty-nine years to the very day my old man died. Lived with one
man forty-nine years. I had my hand and heart full. I had a home of my own. How many chillun? Me? I had nine of
my own and I raised other folks' chillun. Oh, I been over this world right smart --- first one thing and then another. I
know a lot of white folks. They all been pretty good to me."
Interviewer Mery D. Hudgins,
Parson Interviewed Mrs. Mary Jane (Mattie) Mooreman
Home with son Age 90
"Yes, ma'am. I've been in Hot Springs, been in Hot Springs 57 years. That's a long time. Lots of changes have
come-----I've seen lots of changes here--changed from wooden sidewalks and little wood buildings.
Your name's Hudgins ? I knew the Hudginses---Knew Miss Nora well. What's that ? Did I know Adeline ? Did I
know Adeline! Do you mean to tell me she's still alive ? Adeline! Why Miss Haude," ( addressing Mrs. Kisele, for
whom she works--and who sat nearby to help in the interview) Miss Maude, I tell you Adeline's WHITE, she's
white clean through!" ( see inte view with Adeline Blakeley, who incidentally is as black as "the ace of spades"--in
pigmentation.)"Miss Maude, you never knew anybody like Adeline. She bossed those children and made them
mind--just like they was hers. She took good care of them." (Turning to the interviewear) "You know how the
Hudgins always was about their children. Adeline thought every one of 'em was made out of gold-----made out of
pure GOLD.
She made 'em mind. I remember once, she was down on Central Avenue with Ross and he did somthing or other
that wasn't nice. She walked over to the umbralla stand, you remember how they used to have umbrellas for sale out
in front of the stores. She grabbed am umbrella and she whipped Ross with it--she didn't hurt him. Then she put it
back in the stand and said to the man who run the store. If that umbrella's hurt, just charge it to Harve Hudgins."
That's the way Adeline was. So she's still alive. Law how I'd like to see her. Bring me a picture of her. Oh Miss
Mary, I'd love to have it.
Me ? I was born on Green river near Hartford, Kentucky. Guess I was about a year and a half, from what they told
me when my mistress married. Don't know how she ever met my master. She was raised in a convent and his folks
lived al long way from hera. But anyhow she did. She was just 13 when she married. The man she married was
named Charles Mooreman M-O-O-R-e-M-A-M. They had a son called Charles Wycliff Mooreman. He was named
for his mother's people. I got a son I called Charles Wycliff too. He works at the
Arlington. He's a waiter. They say he looks just like me. Mr. Charles Wycliff Mooreman--back in Kentucky. I still
gets letters from him.
Miss Mary I guess I had a pretty easy time in slavery days. They was good to us. Besides I was a house niggah."
(Those who have been "house niggahs" never quibble at the word slave or negro. A subtle social distinction brewed
in the black race to separate house servants from field hands as far as wealthy planters from "poor white trash".)
Once I heard a man say of my mother, 'You could put on a white boiled shirt and lie flat down on the floor in her
kitchen and not get dirty.'
Cook ? No, ma'am!( with dignity and indignation) "I never cooked until after I was married, and I never washed,
never washed so much as a rag. All I washed was the babiws and maybe my mistress's feet. I was a lady's maid. I'd
wait on my mistress and I'd knit sox for all the folks. When they would sleep it was our duty--us maids--to fam 'em
with feathers made out of turkey feathers--feather fans. Part of it was to keep 'em cool. Then they didn't have
screens like we have today. So part of it was to keep the flies off. I remember how we couldn't stomp our feet to
keep the flies from biting for fear of waking 'em up.
Mo, Miss Mary, we didn't get such good food. Nobody had all the kinds of things we have today. We had mostly
buttermilk and cornbread and fat meat. Cake ? 'Deed we didn't. I remember once they baked a cake and Mr. Charles
Wycliff--he was just a little boy-----he got in and took a whold fistful out of the cake. When Miss found out about
it, she give us all doses of salts-----enough to make us all throw up. She gave it to all the niggahs and the children---
the white children. And what did she find out? It was her own child who had done it.
Yes ma'em we learned to read and write. Oh, Miss Maude now-----I don't want to recite. I don't want to."(But she
did "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Ster" and "The Playful Kitten"---the latter all of 40 lines.) "I think, I think they both
come out of McGuffey's Second Reader. Yes ma'am I remember's McGuffey's and the Blueback Speller too.
No, Miss Mary, there wasn't so much of the war that was fought around us. I remember that old Master used to go
out in the front yard and stand by a locust tree and put his ear against it. He said that way he could hear the cannon
down to Bowling Green. No, I didn't never hear any ahooting from the war myself.
Yes ma'sm, the Confederates used to come through lets. I remember how we used to go to the spring for water for
'em. Then we'd stand with the buckets on our heads while they drank-----drank out of a big gourd. When the buckets
was empty we'd go back to the spring for more water.
Once the Yankees come by the place. It was at night. They went out to the quarters and they tried to get 'em to rise
up. Told 'em to come on in the big house and take what they wanted. Told 'em to take anything they wanted to take,
take Master's silver spoons and Miss' silk dress. "If they don't like it, we'll shot their brains out," they said. Next
morning they told Master. He got scared and moved. At that time we was living at Cloverport.
It was near the end of the war and we was already free, only we didn't know it. He moved on up to Stephensport.
That's on the Ohio too. He took me and a brother of mine and another black boy. While we was there I remember he
took me to a circus. I remember how the lady--she was dressed in pink come walking down a wire-----straight on
down to the ground. She was carrying a long pole. I won't never forget that.
Not long afterwards I was married. We was all free then. My husband asked my master if he could marry me. He
told him 'You're a good man. You can come and live on my farm and work for me, but you can't have Mattie.' So we
moved off to his Master's farm.
A little while after that his Master bought a big farm in Arkansas. He wanted to hire as many people as he could. So
we went with him. He started out well, but the first summer he died. So everything had to be sold. A man what
come down to bid on some of the farm tools and stock--come to the auction, he told us to come on up to Woodruff
county and work for him. We was there 7 years and he worked the farm and I took care of myself and my babies.
Then he went off and left me.
I went in to Motton Plant and started working there. Finally he wrote me and tried to get me to say we hadn't never
been married. Said he wanted to marry another woman. The white folks I worked for wouldn't let me. I'd been
married right and they wouldn't let me disgrace myself by writing such a latter.
Finally I came on to Hot Springs. For a while I cooked and washed. Then I started working for folks, regular. For 9
years, the, I mostly washed and ironed.
I came to Hot Springs on the 7th of February--I think it was 57 years ago. You remember Miss Mande--it was just
before that big hail storn. You was here, don't you remember--that hail storm that took all the windows out of all the
houses, tore off roofs and swept dishes and table-cloths right off the tables. Can't nobody forget that who's seen it.
Miss Mary, do you know Miss Julia Huggins ? I worked for her a long time. Worked for her before she went away
and after she came back. Between times I cooked for Mrs. Button (Burton--but called Button by everyone) Housley.
When Miss Julia come back she marches right down to Mrs. Housley's and tells me she wants me to work for her
again. "Can't get her now," says Mrs. Housley, "Mattie's done found out she's black." But anyhow I went to see her,
and I went back to work for her, pretty fory Miss Julia was.
I beeth working for Mrs. Kissle pretty near twenty five years. Saw her children grow up and the grand childres.
Lancing. he's my heart. Once when Mr. and Mrs. Kissle went to see Mrs. Brown, Lancing's mother, they took me
with them. All the way to Watertown, Wisconsin. There wasn't any more niggas in the town and all the children
thought I was somthing to look at. They'd come to see me and they'd bring their friends with 'em. Once while we
was there, a circus come to town. The children wanted me to see it. Told me there was a negre boy in it. Guess they
thought it would be a treat to me to see another higgah. I told 'em, 'Law, don't you think I see lots, lots more than I
wants, everyday when I is at home?'
It used to seare me. The folks would go off to a party or a show and leave me alone with the baby. No, Miss Mary, I
wasn't scared for myself. I thought somebody might come in and kidnap that baby. No matter how late they was I'd
sit on the top step of the stairs leading upstairs---just outside the door where Lansing was asleep. No matter what
time they come home they'd find me there. 'Why don't you go on in your bedroom and lie down?' they'd ask me.
'No,' I'd tell 'em, 'somebody might come in, and they would have to get that baby over my dead body.'
Jonnie, that's my daughter "( Mrs. D.G. Murphy, 330 Walnut Street--a large stuece house with well cared for lawn)"
she wants me to quit work. I told her, 'You put that over on Mrs. Murphy--you made her quit work and took care of
her. What happaned to her? She died! You're not going to make me old.'
Twice she's got me to quit work. Once, she told me it was against the law. Told me there was a law old folks
couldn't work. I believed her and I quit. Then I come on down and I asked Mr. Kisele "( an important business
executive and prominent in civie affairs aged 83)" He rared back and he said, 'I'd like to see anybody stop me from
working.' So I come on back.
Another time, it was when the old age pensions come in. They tried to stop me again. Told me I had to take it. I
asked Mr. Kisele if I could work just the same. "No," he says' if you take it, you'll have to quit work.' So I stamped
my foot and I says, 'I won't take nobody's pension.'
The other day Jonnie called up here and she started to crying. Lots of folks write her notes and say she's bad to let
me work. Somebody told her that they had seen me going by to work at 4 of clock in the morning. It wasn't no such.
I asked a man when I was on the way and it was 25 minutes until 5. Besides, my clock had stopped and I couldn't
tell what time it was. Yes, Miss Mary, I does get here sort of early, but then I like it. I just sit in the kitchen until the
folks get up.
You see that picture over there, it's Mr. Kisele when he was 17. I'd know that smiling face anywhere. He's always
good to me. When they go away to Florida I can go to the store and get money whenever I need it. But it's always
good to see them come back. Miss Maude says I'm sure to go to Heaven, I'm such a good worker. No, Miss Mary,
I'm not going to quit work. Not until I get old."
Interviewer Samuel S. Taylor"
