|
|
Aunt Pinkie Kelley, ex-slave, whose age is a matter of conjecture, but who says she was "growed up when sot free"
was born on a plantation in Brazoria County owned by Greenville McNeel, and still lives on what was a part of the
McNeel plantation in a typical negro cabin. Although receiving an old age assistance pension and being looked after
by nearby negro farm folks, Aunt Pinkie says she guesses she was "bo'n on the dark of the moon 'cause I ain't never
had no luck."
"De only place I knows 'bout is right here, what was Marse Greenville McNeel's plantation. I was bo'n here an'
Marse Greenville an' Mis' Melia what was his wife, was de only ones what I ever belonged to. 'Course after de war,
Marse Huntington come down from up North an' took over de overseein' an' owned de plantation after Marse
Greenville die, but when de big house burned, it burned up all de papers too, an' I couldn't tell to save my life how
old I is, but I was growed up an' worked in de fields befo' I was sot free.
"My mamma's name was Harriet Jackson, an' she was bo'n on de plantation too, but I don't know so much 'bout my
papa. I know his name was Dan, but folks called him 'Good-cheer,' an' he druv oxen, an' one day when I was little
they show me him an' tell me he's my papa, an' so I guess he was. But I can't tell much 'bout him 'cause chillen then
didn't know their papas like chillen do now.
"Most I remembers 'bout them times is work. We was put out in de fields befo' day an' come back after night. Then
we had to shell a bushel of cawn befo' we could go to bed, an' then we was so tired we didn't have no time for
nothin' an' was glad to get to bed.
"'Bout de only playin' we did when I was a girl was sometimes on Sunday, but we didn't have no real games,---jes'
run 'round an' play a little, but de white folks wouldn't let de girls go near de boys or play with 'em either.
"I knowed we sing some but I don't know much 'bout that, 'cause I jes' like to run 'round an' play when I had de
chance. I know we dassent sing in de field though, 'cause old man Jerry Driver would beat us for it. Old man Jerry
Driver watched us in de fields, an' iffen we don't work hard he whip us an' whip us hard. Old Marse Greenville whip
us at de house, but old man Jerry Driver he whip us in de field.
"Then old man Jerry Driver die, an' 'nother man came named Archer. He say, 'you niggers now, you don' work good
I beat you', an' we sho' worked hard then 'cause we was scared 'till we got used to him.
"Old Marse Greenville treated us pretty good but he never give us nothin'. We jes' work all the time,---Christmas an'
all. 'Cross there on de other McNeel place they had Christmas but I don't know much 'bout them. We had to get a
piece of paper to go over there, 'cause iffen you didn't have a piece of paper for a pass you'd sho' get whipped.
"Sometime we would run away an' hide in de woods for a spell, but when they cotch us, Marse Greenville would tie
us down an' whip us so we don't run away no mo'.
"We didn't have no clo'es like we do now, jes' cotton lowers an' rubber shoes. They used to feed us peas an' cawn
bread an' sometimes hominy, an' sometimes they throw some beef in a pot an' bile it, but we never had no hawg
meat that I remembers 'bout.
"Iffen anyone took sick, old Aunt Becky what was a old nigger woman was de doctor. They was a building what
was called the horspital, an' Aunt Becky would get us in there an' give us calomen or portofia an' turpentine,
dependin' on what was de matter with us. An' they always kept de babies in de horspital too an' let de mammys
come in at dinner an' suckle 'em an' dry 'em up an' go back to de field, then come in at night 'an do de same thing
again.
"When anybody die they jes' teke 'em to de cemetery an' put 'em in a box an' dig a hole an' pitch 'em in. I ain't never
seen no Bible at no buryin' in those days.
"Sometimes on Sunday we have church iffen we steal off an' do it. Old Uncle Parper was de parson, but if Marse
Greenville or old man Jerry Driver cotch us they lay you down an' stretch you out an' beat on you. An' you had ter
get that row in de field, too, else you got whipped.
"I never hear much 'bout no war an' Marse Greenville never told us we was free. Fust I knew 'bout bein' sot free was
one day we was gwine to de fields, an' a man come ridin' up an' say, 'whar you folks gwine?' An' we say we gwine
to de fields, an' then he say to Marse Greenville he say, 'you can't work these people, they as free as you is an' you
can't work 'em 'lessen you pay 'em.' Law, we sho shout, young folks an' old folks too. We jes' stay right there,---no
place to go so we jes' stay, an' we get pay for what work we done then, but we gotta pay for what we gets too.
"Then I got married after I was sot free. Allen Kelley was de fust husband what I ever owned, an' I live with him 'till
he die. Then I marry Houston Esmond an' he the last husband what I owned an' I lived with him till he die too. I had
three Kelley chillen but I don't know whar they is at or how many is dead.
"Law me, they used to be a sayin' 'round here that chillen bo'n on de dark of de moon ain't gwinter have no luck, an'
I guess I sho was bo'n then."
Miss Effie Cowan, P.W. McLennan County, Texas Dist. #8 (April 16, 1938 (No))
