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Marilda Pethy, a forner slave new living in Montgomery City, Me. is a coal black weman with distinotly negroid features. Her voice and muner of speaking are vividly reminiecent of the negre of the "Old South". She lives with her daughter, Pelly, and nuicreus grandchildren whom she tries to rule with an iron hand. This does not work so well with the younger generation which largely disregards the irate old woman. All this lands quite an air of bolligerency to the tumble-down building that houses them.
Polly and Marilda set in the shade of a mulberry tree where the former was octenaibly doing her waching not far from the big fron kettle where she heated her water.
"Yas'sun, I suro reacmbers dem days", Marilda replied as the questioning bogan. "Why, I seen people handcuffed together and driv 'long de Williamsburg roed like cattle. Dey was bought to be took south. I had two brothers and two sisters sold and we never did see dem no more. I was born in 1857, April first, on a farm two miles south of Williemsburg, on a farm dat belonged to William Hayes. My mother was Louisa Hayes from Mamphis. She never seen her mother or father and didn't know her name, so she just went by de white folks' name. You know dat's how dey done in dem days with names. She never had no brothers or sisters here. She was sold when she was six weeks old. Father, he belonged to Billy Martin and he was sam Martin. He run off to de war 'cause he was tired of bein' whipped and slashed. So he jes' run off and joined de army.
"I was sold with mother when I was six weeks old. We went back to see de old place after we was free. Dat place has been sold and torn down. It had a tall white double log house. Dere was three cabins, it was a large place. De John Bain place, dey calls it de Jeff Jones place, ten miles north of Williamsburg, had de same kind of a house but dey had just two cabins. De Bain place was not so large but dey had a right smart of land.
"We done right well. Dey give us cornbread and buttermilk in a tin can. We orumbled de cornbread up in de buttermilk and dat's all we ever had to eat. Yas'sum, we generally had 'nough. Well, on Sunday mornings we had biscuits made out of dis stuff dat dey feed cows -- shorts, dat's it. We had biscuits made out of shorts and sorghum. Dey was plenty of it. We had meat once in a while. Dey was dead codles of prairie chickens and petridges don but de wild pigeons was hard to kill. We never did get none of dat meat. Christmas never meant no more to us dan any other day. Dey give mother sorghum and shorts to make gingsramaps.
"Dey had a big back log in de fireplace and a forestick and we put de wood in between. It was my job to take care of de dog irons. Dey was kept shinin' with grease. De missus would say, "Marilda, grease de dog ironst" I had to grease dem all over, too. I taken care of de children. Mother done everything. Dey had two cooks but both of dam done all kinds of work. Mother was de regular cook for Mrs. Hayes.
"Old Miss sold de other four children and sent 'em south. Mother and me brought $1,200. When I was nine or ten years old I was put up on de block to be sold. I 'member dat just as well. Hit was just a piece cut out of a log and stood on end. Dey was offered $600 but my mistress oried so much dat master did not sell me. Freedom come soon after dat.
"I often wish dat some of de younger race had lived through dat time. Dey wouldn't have been so sassy and impudent as dey is now. De older people'd have done something 'bout it, too." (Marilda's tone and facial expression left no doubt as to what the older people would have done.)
"Dey was a battle on Freeman up on Grand Prairie. Dat's northwest of Williamsburg, up where de Mattocks and Harrisons lived. It was right where de Ridgeways and de Jones's lived. Dey was fightin' in de evening and dey fit all night. I took de baby upstairs on de porch and listened to de fighting. 'Rally once again, boys, rally once againi' Boom! Boom! Bang! Bang! Boom!" (Marilda was equal to at least one army.)
"Dey walked in blood for miles! Dey took de best horses dat old master had. "Bout 500 soldiers come to de house and ordered supper. Dare was a tall log smokehouse and dey went right up to de tip-top and got de hams. De middlin's and de shoulders was lower but day got de hams.
De women worked all night and dey got through cooking 'bout daylight. What did dey cook? Why, dey fried ham, made bisouits, and fried eggs. If de soldiers wanted a chicken day just killed it and someone cooked it for dam. I ain't never seen no one have so many chickens. De soldiers cussed de slaves like dogs. Dey was de Union soldiers, de blue coats.
"When de soldiers come de men folks just got up and flew. Dey taken to de woods. De soldiers come to get master's money and dey hunted everywhere. Dey asked me. 'Whar is de money?' I say, 'I don't know." Dey say. 'You know d-- well you do! I've a notion to cut your throat!' I knowed where it was 'cause I seen master when he done hid it but he told me he would whip me to death if I told and I thought de soldiers was foolin' but master meant it. De soldier said; (Here it is necessary to delete some of the most colorful words.) 'She is one of de ..... stubbornest little black ...... I ever seen! I've a notion to cut her throat!' (Marilda evidently enjoyed her reputation for ....... stubborness.) Another man say. 'Maybe she don't know. Children don't know things like dat. I wouldn't hurt her.' So dey went away. Dat was de truth, de children didn't know everything den like dey does now. Dey knows too much now!
"De morning we was set free we didn't have nothing. Mother had three little children and no place to go. De white folks told dem to 'git away from hers' and we come on down to williamsburg. We walked down de road in de snow, mother and de three little children. We went to de old mistress and mother asked her could we find some place to stay. She said, 'Yes,
Louiea. I'll take care of you and de children. I would not have turned you out of doors.' She sure was good to us.
"I seen people turned across barrels and whipped. Dey was whipped 'cause de white people was meen. Sometimes day tied dem to trees and whipped 'em. Dey didn't have no clothes on at all -- day was just like dey come into de world! Dey used a cowhide as big as my finger. It was made of two strips twisted together and was keen at de and. De master whipped when he could. When he couldn't do it, he called in de neighbora 'til you'd think dere was a meetin'. De poor darkies had a hard time!
"Do patrollers (accent on the first syllable) used blackanake whips. Dey was a lot of de neighbors dat were patrollers. When dey would meet de colored men out at night, dey would ask dem if dey had a pass. If dey didn't, de patrollers would get off de horses and whip dem. De colored men would slip out at night sometimes for a little pleasurs. My daddy got tired of being whipped and he put out. He was gone clean away.
"De Ku Klur Klan come out and run de colored people away from home. Many a colored woman come to mothers house in de middle of de night with clothes covered with ice and anow to de waist and carrying her baby in her arms 'cause dey ran her away from home.
"We knowed who de men was. We'd hear dem say, 'Are you going out tonight?' 'Yas, I'se got a little cluckin' to do.' Goin' cluckin'! Huh! (Marilda fairly snorted with indignation and in some subtile way gave the impression that she did not approve of Klansmen.) Dose men would bus' de door down and run de people out. Run some of dem clean away.
"Dey was one colored man, named McPherson, dat told dem not to come pesterin' round his cabin. Dey come anyhow and he shot wid a double barreled shotgun. He killed a white man, too. Of course, he had to leave his home. He want to Illinois and I ain't never seen him since.
"Mother hired us out to Mr. Billy Arnold to buy a lot in Williamsburg and we built a little house dat was our home. I stayed dere until I married Hanry Pethy and we went to de old Kidwell place south of Williamsburg. We lived dere twenty-five years. He worked for Taylor Arnold, feeding cattle and mules.
"We had eleven children. Four girls and one boy is still living. Dere are three girls and one boy dead. (Marilda's aritimetie may be faulty but it is excusable for she does not read or write.) My pension is a lot of help. I had a real nice garden but it's 'bout burned up now. Dese children think I'se too old to plant dat garden but I'll show dem. I can't do it all in one day but I can do it.
I never went to no parties. Mother used to go but I better not look like I want to go. Dere's some people hare in town dat can tell you lots 'bout slavary. Have you seen Albert Jones?"
