|
|
"My marster was jus' like a father to me," said 83 year old Annette Milledge, "dese times is better for some people, but it was no better for me 'cause I might say I was free myself in slavery times, my people treat me so good.
"I never seed no hard times till here lately. I was raised to work and now I done get so old I kain't see nor hear. Fus' one chile and den de udder take care of me, do de bes' dey kin. My son got a little job, and I got grandchillun on de Hill. De people in Aiken don't help me none."
Annette lives with her son in a woodsy clearing. The little house with it's broken porch roof and patched home-made furniture overlooks a honeysuckle-bordered pool and spring. Annette was dressed in a voluminous chambray wrapper, her small head covered by a paper sack shaped to represent a baker's cap. Her toothless gums were sucked in to show a purplish tongue, and her eyes were dim and weary. She is proud of the fact that she never broke her promise to her last white employer.
"I work for Miss Mamie Kate Dobey 50 years," she said, "we had a'greement. I was to work for her long as she live. I sure stuck to my promise. I work for her till she die. I was de mother of 12 chillun, and one of dem always toted her clothes.
Annette's master, Mr. Ransome, was not a planter. He had corn fields, but his business was general storekeeping. Her father, a free negro who came from Virginia, did his part by his 21 children.
"My father was free, he didn' belong to none of dem. He work round de depot and different places, run dray and different things, never been in slavery. He bought my shoes, my mother made my clothes on a loom. I could spin but I didn't weave none. Dey made cullud cloth and dyed it any color dey wanted."
Annette's mother did the family marketing for the Ransomes, on daily trips to the Augusta markets. The old woman recalled that in war times $70.00 in Confederate money was paid for a roast.
"We had anything we wanted to eat," she continued, "Marster had a storeroom right next to my mother's room, and anything she wanted to get to cook, she would go dere and get it. When we got sick, Marster would send for de doctor. Mother was de mid-wife, she would tend to her Mistis, and if any of de women git dat way, she had to go to dem too.
"My marster, Mr. Ransome, didn' sell none of his people. He would buy, but he wouldn't sell. Down dere in Namburg near de bridge, dey had a big house. Dey would sell de mothers fum de babies, and if you cry after dem, dey would w'hoop you. Dey didn' 'low you to cry."
There were no whippings on the Ransome place, but Annette had dreadful recollections of slaves being punished on adjoining plantations.
"Sometimes dey would w'hoop dem terrible. Dey tied dem acros't a barrel and w'hooped dem until de blood run out. De leas' little thing dey w'hoop de hide off 'em. Better not let 'em ketch you with a book, neider."
Annette loved her young mistress, evidently the daughter of Mr. Ransom's first wife, but feared and hated the second wife.
"We belong to de young misses and de older head belong to de las' wife. De las' wife was mean. She wouldn't want you to wear good shoes. She even had all my hair out off, shaved, almost. It's de troof, I ain't tellin' you a piece of story."
Annette said she did not care much about fun, although the other slaves got passes and went to frolics.
"You had to go to yo' marster for a piece of paper, a pass. If dey did ketch you widout dat paper, dey would w'hoop you. Marster never 'low Patterolers to w'hoop his servants. We had a Patteroler in de cullud people's church, too. You know we had our own church wid a cullud preacher. It was Providence Baptis' Church.
As to stories and folk tales, Annette had no recollection of any.
"My husban' useter tell de chillun stories to make 'em laugh. I never was much hand for talkin'."
When the Yankees were coming, Annette's master loaded the younger children in a wagon and intended to send them to Edgefield.
"He was a Yankee hisself, but he wanted to run us fum de Yankees. Den he said he would wait till tomorrow, an' sen' 'em nex' day - and by nex' day, de whole place was covered wid Yankees. I was 13 years old, and so skeared, thinkin' de Yankees was goin' take us up North, I run under de bed and hid. Master had a son kill in de war.
"Dey turn us loose, to do de bes' we kin' - my daddy was free, anyway, and den dey paid mother for de work she done. Some of dem would go but not many lef' marster."
Annette had unpleasant recollections of marriage among the slaves.
"Folks didn' marry - dey wouldn't let you marry but dey let you live together. Dey say if you marry you would belong to your husban' and go off. Anyway de white men would do things - nex' place to us Mr. Stokes had a brother-in-law, he would go back in de yard, make de husban's git out - go in himself and take de woman, and better not say nothing to him. Our marster told his son: 'Dont you never mess with cullud people', and he tole him what he was goin' de with him if he did."
Annette said she knew of one "conjur man" in North Augusta, named Jim Jones, who lived near Dr. Mealing's springs. She also said that Mattie Doe in Carpentersville had been frightened by weird apparitions and would probably be willing to talk about them.
"Folks what live in de grave have seen a hant in de shape of a big shaggy black dog," she said. "Myself I ain't never seen nothin', but I do believe dat when my dog howl three times, and nex' day crawl on his stomach, he measurin' a grave. Dat a true sign o' death." The old woman looked doubtfully at the prowling dog and shook her head.
"I have seen a hant," she said, "dat was my husban' - I seen him go pas' de window, he look jus' as natural. I wish't he would-a talk to me. Dat was daytime. He go pas' my do' - pas' right on - he used to work in a brick yard and tote a crocus sack dat he throwed over his shoulder. Well he had it on his shoulder when I see him." She sighed. "He never look at me.""
