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Mrs. Mary Emily Eaton Tate, as she is more familiarly known, Mollie Tate, is the only ex-slave living in Portland and Jay county. She was born, as near as the records can be obtained, June 30, 1859, on what is known as the old Mendenhall farm in Jefferson County, Tennessee, about five miles from Mossy Creek, now Jefferson City, and twenty-nine miles east of Knoxville, Tennessee.
Mrs. Tate, in her own way, vividly describes her firsthand knowledge of slavery days. She says:
"My parents, Isaac and Nancy Eaton, lived in a little cabin on the plantation owned by the master, Joe Eaton and wife, Sarah, and the name of Mary Emily Eaton was given the new babe, myself.
"When I was only a few weeks old, my parents moved to Granger County, just across the Holstein River, which winded its way through the plantation. Many were the happenings during the five or six years that followed.
"I was too young to remember but have heard my parents relate how once while they were about their tasks on the plantation I had been left alone in my cradle at the cabin. For some cause I became dissatisfied and the master perhaps making his usual visits around the cabins I suppose became annoyed at my crying and as punishment placed me in a fence corner. There was snow on the ground. Mother and father discovered me still crying.
"The north and south were waging battle. Mossy Creek and surrounding country was the scene of much warfare and the little cabin of the Eaton's was along the line of march. I, with the other children, was somewhat shy at first, but eventually we did come out, attracted by the music and watched the soldiers go by with bayonets glistening in the sun.
"The blue coats and the gray coats were as thick as 'hops', and as the fighting took place around Mossy Creek I could hear the cannon roar and when the soldiers flanked they were on the next farm adjoining the Mendenhall farm. This farm belonged to Bill Tate, the master of Preston Tate.
"Every day spies were making their rounds and often soldiers, both Yankee and Rebel, visited our cabin taking what they could find, bacon, molasses, meal, anything they wanted, fill their canteens with water and be off. The cellar, a hole dug out under some boards of our cabin contained our supplies, but the soldiers lost no time in searching until they found them. They did the same at the homes of the slave owners and all that were in their path. Father would take the horses, which belonged to the master and hide them out in the woods and hills.
"One regiment took my oldest brother, John, away and we never heard from him for several years after the close of the war. Instead of Eaton he had changed his name to John Crittendon and was in Detroit, Michigan.
"When I was about five years old, I, with my parents, was sold to Dave and Mary Jane (Parsley) Tate, whose farm was in Hamilton County across the Holstein River. When the ferry boat landed Dave Tate carried me into the house. There were three older brothers and sisters but the master, Joe Eaton, had them 'hired out' on the Rankins farm. Two younger brothers, Tolbert and Joe, were born on the Tate farm.
"A short time before the war closed the master, Dave Tate, was conscripted and had to go. Before leaving he charged 'Uncle Isom and Aunt Nancy' to look well to the care of his wife, two sons, David and William, and daughter, Tennessee. He never returned alive. After several months his body was brought back to the old home and buried.
"In making the clothing mother was one of the principal workers. Myself and other children helped pick and seed cotton. Mother carded and spun, then reeled and spooled it; 'Granny Parsley' slayed and warped it. Then it was ready to put on the shuttles and weave. My older sister and mistress and her mother did most of the weaving.
"If some other color besides white was desired we gathered sumac bushes and berries and bark of oak trees and mother used these to dye the goods. The mistress attended to the sewing. She would see that we would get a suit of clothes once in a while. Granny knit the stockings.
"Father operated the cane mill and still house on the plantation. Many times have I rode the horse in grinding peaches, apples, corn or whatever needed grinding. The master always kept his celler well supplied with peach and apple brandy, corn whiskey, gin, rye, mollasses, tree sugar, tobacco and most anything you might mention. The supplies were barreled, sent down the river, and sold.
"The washing was usually done at the spring or on the creek bank. On one occasion my older sister permitted me to accompany her. There had been a hard rain and the water was carrying all kinds of debris down stream. The old foot log had been turned sideways. Heedless to the demand of my sister, I 'toed' the log (of course I was barefooted) to the other side of the creek to gather wild onions. But when I started back and about half way across I lost my toe hold and off I went. The swift stream carried me under the log and I bobbed up on the other side. I had presence of mind to grab the log and pulled myself out and crawled across.
"At the time of the surrender, when the soldiers were on their way to Virginia, regiment after regiment passed by and boys of the colored regiments who were acquainted with us would say: 'Good bye, Uncle Isom and Aunt Nancy', with bayonets on their shoulders, sabres at their sides, knapsacks and canteens on their backs. The soldier tread of this vast number could be heard for miles. After the surrender covered wagons and trainloads of artillery, guns and everything that had been used in time of war, passed by. These are scenes of my childhood that I can never forget.
"Often I have carried on my head a 'piggin' of water from the spring at the foot of the hill for 'Granny Parsley', mother of my mistress.
"When emancipation was declared some rejoiced, while others seemed to think that they could not depend on themselves refusing to leave the plantations while others were driven away.
"After freedom we went to Hodgetown, Knox County, and lived there a year, then moved to the Mat Peck farm near my birthplace, the old Mendenhall farm. Here father, assisted by others in his condition, built a big log house for his family. Rough logs put together with chinking and mud
(or rather clay) between them. One door was made of boards with wooden hinges, a hole was cut out in one side of the cabin for a window; boards laid on the ground, sometimes very sparingly, served as the floor. The chimney was built of sticks and often would catch fire. It was nothing uncommon, however, to look out at cracks where the chinkin' would fall out and see snakes, lizards and scorpions crawling or lying between the logs.
"Father took up blacksmithing as a trade and the children started to school at Mossy Creek, five miles, so I had to walk (not ride as nowadays) ten miles a day to attend school. Six weeks to three months was the limit of the session, part time pay school and part time free school.
"Before going I had to help carry water from the spring and gather bark of fence rails in the woods for mother's cooking. We would start for school about six o'clock in the morning through the woods, over gullies and rocks, up and down hills, over fences and sometimes we would cry and say we heard or saw ghosts in the thickets. We always endeavored to get home before dark. Water and wood had to be brought in for the night. This was the regular routine.
"In the meantime, the zinc mines opened at Mossy Creek. The owner, Mr. Sizer, wanted father to work and them we moved to Mossy Creek. Now I did not have to walk quite so far to school. A Miss Josephine Denny from the "north" and a Mr. Yardley of Knoxville taught. I was about ten years old. After school hours I took care of Mrs.
Tillson's baby. We paid 50 cents every two or three weeks. Employed at Dr. Roten's, bringing up the cows and the other chores around the house.
"Eventually the mines went out and we moved back to the Mary Jane Tate farm and remained a short time until we were again back to Mossy Creek. This was not for very long, as father decided to buy a home three miles east at Rocktown and the name was well chosen for the roads were nothing only rock, all sizes, little rocks, big rocks, boulders, flat, round, anything you care to mention.
"Now I was walking six miles to school and sorry to say this was almost my last school days. I was permitted to go to two sessions, six free. What education I received in those days from my speller, reader, geography, arithmetic, and dictionary has never been regreted. My parents were not able to continue my education so the fourth grade was the end of my school days.
"We moved back to Mossy Creek to what was called Branners' old red store. I was old enough to be of some assistance to my parents now as I earned fair wages cooking. Dr. Hood's was the first place at regular hire at $1 per week. Then Prof. Brown's, principal of Mossy Creek high school and college. After they moved away I was at Prof. Russel's and went with them to Knoxville and remained there for a time. The next place was lawyer John Yoe. Was there until I returned home to Mossy Creek February 10, 1884.
"Preston Tate, who first came to Portland in 1881, returned to Mossy Creek and we were married on Thursday evening at 8 o'clock on February 28, 1884, at my home. There were 50 or 75 guests. Bridesmaid was Mary Claven and best man John Kile. Tuesday, March 4, at 8 p.m. we left for Portland...and arrived there after midnight, March 15, 1884."
Mrs. Tate was one of a family of eleven children, only one brother living now. Mr. Tate was also a slave and was owned by Bill Tate, a brother of Dave, previously mentioned. Mrs. Tate's mother before marriage was owned by Larkin Johnson and was given to the master's daughter, who married on the night the stars fell.
The name of Mrs. Tate's father's master was Stiffy. Her mother was cook and her father worked on the East Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia railroad when it was being built. The camp was at Purchess, now known as Chattanooga, Tenn.
Mrs. Tate's grandmother, Marciss Johnson, lived to be 115 years old and was the mother of 19 children.
"It would seem peculiar nowadays to see children wearing 'tow sacks' for clothing. But that was what the children on the plantation often wore, or at least that was the resemblance, just a hole on each side for the arms and one for the head.
"Our meals at the cabin were cooked in the fireplace. Mother would make cakes of meal and water, sometime a little salt, and cover them with ashes. Potatoes were bakes likewise. With our menu of 'hoecakes' and molasses, we thrived and grew stout and healthier than most children do today with all kinds of food and luxuries.
"At about ten years of age while attending a revival meeting at an old cabin church in charge of 'Uncle Benny Roper' I was converted. It was one night in February. I returned home with my parents and told my sister who was sick at the time and she said, 'Now, Mollie, you will have to give up your bad habits and be a good girl'. My sister died soon afterwards and her advice was indeed an inspiration to me at that time and has been all the days of my life to live up to my Christian profession.
Mrs. Preston Tate has resided in Portland for more than fifty years, lives at 657 West Second Street. She is perhaps the only colored person in this part of the country living today who can recall the days just preceding the Civil War when a people were held in bondage and sold upon the auction block the same as other chattel, cattle, etc. Often mothers with babies in their arms were separated, perhaps never to see each other again. Only those who experienced these hardships they underwent in bondage can know and tell fully what it all meant.
Tate, Preston Jay County, Indiana (Martha Freeman Jay County, Indiana)
