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"I love my white folks," said Cora Shepherd, nodding her small turbaned head, "my marster was a fine one! I wish he was living today, yes ma'am I do. I ought to be 'shamed to speak de word, but dey was better times to me. If my old Miss was home, I'd be dere sittin' on de step."
The old ex-slave, wrapped in a blue sweater, was rocking on the porch of her granddaughter's house. A rolling green hillside gave her a wide view of land and sky, and in her arms lolled a fat brown baby.
"I am 82 years going on 83 dis month," she went on, "and can't hardly see, so I sits here and nusses de baby. Sometimes I look off yonder and try to see into Columbia County again."
Her voice held a homesick note, and for a moment she was silent.
"I was belongs to Jesse Walden up in Columbia County," she continued. "From time I was born until de finish. My mother was de house'oman, washer and ironer and weaver, my father was the hog minder and marked cattle. I jus' played about in de fields till I got big enough to go in de house and fan flies when dey was eatin'. Old Marster wouldn't let his little niggers work out and git sunstroke."
"And all you did was fan flies? That didn't keep you busy all day!"
"Oh, us little chaps didn't do no work. Dey give us things to 'muse us, like. Us git bark for de mammy - she was de nuss what 'tend de little chaps and made 'em call her 'Mammy' - us played in de orchards, picked up rotten fruit, cleaned up like dat. Dey put de bigger children out in de fields pickin' peas. 'You take dat one,' dey said, 'and train him how to pick peas.' But you couldn't stay in de fields no later dan 9 o'clock 'count o' de sun. Den at fo' or five in de afternoon we had to get up our bark to cook on."
"Were you ever whipped, Cora?"
Cora's laugh showed strong yellow teeth and her little face screwed up like that of an amused monkey.
"Yessum, onc't us little chaps pulled a lot of green apples. Some of 'em had salt. Old Miss was watchin' us from de porch. She sent de house'oman to tell us all to come up, she wanted to give us a lecture. She give us five licks apiece, de onlies' licks I ever got - Miss say she wanted us to learn better." She nodded again, "yessum, I love my white folks!"
"How were you fed, Cora?" she was asked.
"All de children what had mothers in de house, my old Miss would give 'em meals from de kitchen. Every morning us had to go to de kitchen and dey give us milk, meat and bread. At 12
o'clock, - dere was over a hundred head of little darkies -- um would go out and git bark for 'em to cook with. De old lady, 'Mammy', de one what nuss de little niggers - she had a washpot full o' peas for us little darkies. My old marster fed his niggers, I tell you de truth about him. Den at 4 o'clock every afternoon us had milk, and us got night bread."
Cora shifted the baby and quieted its whimpering while her mind sought through the past for facts.
"My marster had seven big plantations," she said. "From Columbia County to Petersburg road and den down to Georgia Road. He set right in de fork of de road above Dr. Phinizy's old place. My old marster didn't let his niggers be whipped. He had a settlement overseer once, and he turned him off. I remember when he turned off Mr. Shanklin. My old marster went to his Wrightsboro plantation every Friday. He give his niggers 'lowance on Saturday afternoon and knock 'em all off. Well, Mr. Shanklin wouldn't give 'em anything to eat and four men, dey went and killed a beef, and tore it up because dey hadn't had a mouthful, and give all de people on de place some. When de Overseer hear about it he whip dem four men."
"Marster come back on Monday at one o'clock. We loved him, and when we see him comin' up de road us run and ketch his Coattails, den he would carry us to de barn and give us all a couple of shorts. Marster come on down to de quarters and call all de little niggers around him. He sat down under a great big shade tree, and we was all so glad to see him. De Mammy what nuss de little darkies say: 'Marster, we had a big whipping since you been gone,' Marster said: 'Yes. Your Missis tell me.' Den Mammy said: 'We was all hongry.' Marster got up. 'Dat won't be de case no mo',' and he started off. He call dat overseer and give him a wagon and team to move his things with, and run him right off de place! You see, I had a good marster, but some of de old marsters waren't so good." Cora sighed. "If his chillun was livin' I'd be right dere!"
Asked about frolics and recreations, Cora remembered only candy pullings and quiltings. "Marster never did have no bands or nuthin' like dat on his place," she said. She could not remember any wedding celebrations. "When niggers marry, white boss marry 'em. He would go to de court house and git a commit from de head man and come back. Dey jus' go up to de house and he marry 'em, give you a house, and you start living together. My old marster didn't have but one man on his place dat had a family off of it."
Cora's face lit up as she talked about church-going.
"Us went to white folks' church, sat in de back," she said, "and it was de beautifullest place! De water down de hill jus' spewin' out! It was called Greenbrier church, near Cedar Rock."
Then Cora sang in her cracked old voice" "Jesus built that dwelling house, Jesus built that dwelling house, Jesus built that dwelling house, Bee---dout hammer or nails! Bee---dout hammer or nails! Jesus built dat dwelling house, Bee---dout hammer or nails. Thank God de angel done move, Move, member! Move, Daniel! Spirit say you must move, Daniel!"
"My old marster let us have prayer meetin' Saturday night regular," Cora remembered, "colored man preach. Better not 'sturb his niggers when old carriage driver John Jefferson preach! I 'member his tex'-
"'Love yo' marster, Love yo' Miss. Obey! Be subdued to yo' marster and yo' misses.'
"Den he would preach: 'Marvel not---ye must be born again!'"
Cora had vivid recollections of the Patterollers.
"We used to hide under a fig bush when dey come by, riding down de road tootin' and hollerin'. Onc't dey caught one of my old Marster's niggers without de strip what say: 'Dis is a Walden darkie, let him pass.' Dey whipped de man when he went to his wife. He said: 'Marster, one of my children was sick and I wouldn't worry you for a strip befo' Wednesday night so I tried to slip down dere.' Marster tole him: 'Why, I would have tole 'em not to whip you. Don't do dat no' mo'.'"
Then the war came on and two of the Walden boys went to fight. Cora's brother accompanied one of the boys, and was given a furlough every three months. She remembered the names of the six boys, but not which two went away.
"My old Miss sent de little ones in de field," she said, "we got wheat and cat straw to make hats for de soldiers in de army. My old Miss have clothes made and send to de army for soldiers, too. Dere was two seamsters in de house cuttin' and sewin' every day for de hands and de soldiers.
When the army was disbanded, according to Cora, the worn army men, returning to their homes, repaid Mrs. Walden with poor courtesy.
"Marster said when we hear 'um, us go in de woods and hide, 'cause he didn't know what dey might do to de little chaps. We could see 'um ride up dere wid dey tin cans and blankets hung on de skinny horses. Some be so hongry dey git off de ole horses and go round in de lot and bus' open de barn do' and strew de corn everywhere. Dey went to old Miss and ask her for de key and she give it to 'em, and dey got hams and shoulders out de smoke'ouse and cut off de fat and eat de lean. Dey was wuss'n de Yankees. Some had de 'dacity to go to de house and search for clothes!"
After the war Cora's kind master died.
"He call us all in de room," she said, "sent de house'oman Anne to call us. He lay dere lookin' at us. 'All my little darkies,' he said and I never will forget dat---us all standin' round looking at him so sick. 'I hate to see you all scattered, but as long as you live, I want you to stay here and when you buried, I want you buried on de Walden premises.'" Cora's voice broke. "De darkies hollered: 'Us don't want you to die, marster, us won't git no mo' shorts!' Dey didn't know no better, you see. Marster bus' out in a cry, and all us children bellowed too. 'I am born to die,' he tole us, and after dat he die. He tole my old Miss to tell us every one as we growed up our age every year, and whilst she was livin' she did. I stayed right on dere till I got grown and married right out of my misses' house. I slep' every night in her room, pull out my little trundle bed and shove it back in de mornin'."
Cora said the Negroes were in constant fear of the Ku Kluxes after the war, but they did not come on the Walden place.
"My old Miss didn't 'low nobody 'sturbin' her place, 'cause she was a widow," she said. "Dey ketch people and kill 'em and lynch 'em. I seen fo' men dey kilt dat-a-way! Caught 'em and beat 'em to death, but I ain't never know what for. Dey rode horses and had a great big sheet wrap around 'em."
Cora was sent to school "after freedom" but liked the home lessons.
"Nights I would be settin' in de room with my Old Miss," she said, "and she knittin'. She would try to give my lessons. She out doll clothes for me to sew, and give me pictures out of papers to cut. I stayed in dey house 15 years after I married. After my Old Miss dies, de boys was all married, dey give every one a plantation. Den Mr. Jim Lamkin married Miss Ella and she got possession of de home, den all de colored people lef'."
"But you saw your mistress again after you left the place, didn't you, Cora?"
"Yes, ma'am. De las'time I went up home --- I calls it my home, 'cause it is my home --- after Marster die, I went from Beech Island to see Old Miss. I stayed a week and didn't eat two meals in colored persons' houses. She wouldn't allow us to eat out. She said: 'Come right up to my house and see me and take yo' meals.'"
Cora claims to hear spirits talking. She says they mumble but she cannot understand what they say. "Den de talk disappear," she said, "and a hot steam comes up all around. Dey is folks already dead trying to talk wid de living."
As to charms, potions and herbs, Cora is not superstitious. She said that home remedies were not used much on the Walden plantation, because Dr. Walden's sen who went to medical college nine years came back home and "made 'em all well. He doctored de niggers from Columbia County slap to Thompson."
She does believe that when the left eye jumps, "das bad luck, de right eye jumpin' mean good luck. One of dese meanin' owls - dem what whickers - hollerin' at night, das a sign of death. Dese coo-coo owls, what says, 'hoo-oo, hoo-oo,' is a sign of falling weather. Dey say dat when I was a chap."
Cora says she tries to plant more by signs now than ever before, but never has any favorable results. "Plantin' by de time of de moon ain't no sign dat de crop gwine come good," she said. "I planted butterbeans on dark nights and los' 'em --- planted on twin sign of de almanac and dey wouldn't do nothin' mo' so it don't mean nuthin'."
Cora's version of the familiar "Skinny" story is different in that the witch is caught.
"De witch come in de house and crack de do'," related Cora, "and she would see a woman laying dere in de bed. 'Unhunh' say de ole witch, 'git outter yo' skin and come ridin' wid me.'
"De woman be skeared and she git up and go ridin' with de ole witch. Den de husband wake up and see his wife gone. He see de skin layin' dere, and he want to ketch her, so he git up and put salt and pepper on it.
"Pretty soon she come back and try to git into de skin. It wouldn't move. 'Skinny, Skinny, ain't you know me?' she say.
"De skin jump up and begin stinging her with de salt and pepper, and burn her so she couldn't git back into it. De husband git a flour sifter and put it at de foot of de bed to ketch her, and den he stuck de head of de bed full of forks. When she couldn't git back into her skin, she creep in de bottle and dat's de way he caught her."
In the afternoon sun a tall figure was climbing the hill to Cora's cabin. It was the deep voiced elderly neighbor with the one eye and "preacher" look who had been asked for directions. Curiosity was bringing him for news, so the visitors said goodbye. Cora's friendly voice followed them down the hill.
"Come back and see me again, ladies. I sure did enjoy talking with you. It was a real pleasure to talk about de ole days."
Simmons, Mary Jane District #1 Georgia"
