I seen a lot of things in my lifetime, and I reckon the more I seen the more I got to give up my thanks for. I been in this world about a hundred years, I think, for I was a grown man and been a grown man quite a while when the Civil War come along.
I was born in North Carolina, in Jefferson county close to a little town called Rayville, on a big plantation belong to Old Master Henry Clay. He was some akin to the Tillmans in that country and they was sure big rich.
My pappy's name was Solomon Clay and my mammy's name was Hanna. She belong to a Smalls down in South Carolina in Concordia Parish, that was some more kinfolks of the Clays I think, because when her an Pappy is freed they go and live with the Smalls until they both die. Old Master Clay already dead when the War come along, though.
I was at home with my folks until I was about fifteen years old I reckon, and then I was sold to a man name Cheet, Dyson Cheet, and he move with us to Louisiana close to Texarkana, but he hire me out to a man name Goodman Carter to work on his steamboat for a long, long time, maybe four or five years in all, so I don't know much about Old Master Dyson Cheet.
Then he give me or will me to his boy Tom Cheet and he bring me to the Creek Nation because his wife come from Mississippi and she is just part Creek Indian, so they can get a big farm out here if they want it. That was a pretty place and I always will call it home, but I been everywhere since then and I went way back and took the name I was borned under because I never forget my old Master Henry Clay, and besides, Mammy and Pappy kept the name of Clay too.
Well, I had such a rambling time in my life I better start back on the old plantation in North Carolina and tell what it look like first; to give me a better start in my mind, anyway.
Mammy and Pappy and me lived in a house close to the big house back there, and Pappy was the coach boy and horse boy. The big house was two stories high with a big porch what run clean to the top, and more window blinds than I ever seen in a house since. Our little house was made of planks, heavy oak lumber, all whitewashed with lime, and we had good furniture Old Mistress give us what she was through with. The bed was high like you could hang a curtain on, and had springs like we got today. My grandpa used to live in that house too, before I was born, and about the first thing I remember was when Old Master sell him and Grandmammy to a lady in town.
That lady lived by herself, and she knowed my grandpappy a long time and wanted to give him a good home and light work, and Mammy say she give a thousand dollars for the two of them.
Grandpappy's name was Uncle Dick Tillman and Grandmammy's name was Millie Tillman, and they belong to the Tillmans when Old Master bought them long before my pappy was borned.
Our little house was full, I'll tell you, because I had seven sisters while I was there and seven more after I left, but I never did see part of them little ones. Only the names of some the big ones come to me; there's Chloe, Millie, Rachel, Susanna, and Hannah. That's all I remember.
We eat fish, greens, potatoes, sow belly and corn pone mostly, but sometimes in winter we get some fresh beef when they have a neighborhood killing. Everybody go to the field about seven o'clock when the big bell ring, and come in late by the same bell.
Young slaves that too little for the field work in the Mistress garden, and we get so much for each family to take home from the garden.
Old negroes make our clothes from homespun cotton, and some mixed wool in cold weather. I had one long shirt that had five different colors in the stripes. We wear them long shirts when we was little boys, without any pants in the summer.
Old Master Clay was good to my folks, and kept on laughing at Mammy on account of so many girl babies. He just say, "Better do better next time!" And the next one was a girl, too!
She never quit work but three days on account of a baby, and when she go back in the field she carry the baby in a red blanket tied to her back. When it get hungry she just slip it around in front and feed it and go right on picking or hoeing while it have its ninny.
Old Master was awfully kind and religious. I think he would preach a little sometime or maybe teach sunday school. I never seen him whip a slave, but he had a whipping machine, to scare them with mostly. When he say to the overseer, "Drive them today", he meant we was getting behind the season and he wanted us to hurry up. But the overseer was a negro too, and he just worked harder and told us to lay into it or he'd tell on us.
Sometimes Old Master come to the field in his buggy and talk to us, and one time I seen some neighbor negroes getting a whipping in the field and I asked Old Master what for, and he say, "Hoe your row, youngun, or you might catch the like of that too."
They was about six hundred acres in the plantation, so my mammy told me one time, but I don't think it was in one piece. Then they had nearly two hundred slaves, big and little - mostly little it seems like. They all lived in the "nigger quarters" that set way off from the house. They was little one room plank cabins setting close together in a row so that you could step from one porch to the other.
When I was big enough for the field I would have to go down to the quarters in the evening and hear the rules for the next day. The overseer would get the field negroes all together and give out the rules. If he say, "Henry, tomorrow you pick cotton on the west side of the north field," or maybe, "you cut four or five good ricks of wood on the south woods lot close to the cane patch side", that would be what I do the next day as soon as that old bell ring. We never have to ask in the morning, because we already had our rules and could go to work on the bell.
That whipping machine was a funny thing. Old Master just had it to set around so the slaves could see it I think. He loaned it out to a man one time though, and the man used it. It was a big wooden wheel with a treadle to it, and when you tromp the treadle the big wheel go round. On that wheel was four or five big leather straps with holes cut in them to make blisters, and you lay the negro down on his face on a bench and tie him to it and set the machine close to him. Then when you tromp the treadle the wheel go round and flop them straps across his bare back and raise the skin. Getting a negro strapped down on that bench had him cured long before you had to tromp that treadle.
They had a little church on the plantation where we set on Sunday and heard the Mistress read out of the Bible to us and then we all sung good songs and prayed. But no school and no reading lessons before the emancipation, I'll tell you.
When I was about fourteen or fifteen I went off with Mr. Dyson Cheet to Louisiana and he start to whittle a plantation right out of the woods. All I had to do was cut down trees and grub sprouts all day every day.
I cut cord wood too, to sell to the steamboats, and pretty soon I was hired off to work on one of the boats. I guess it had a name but I don't remember it. Boss Man was Mr. Goodman Carter, and he was a good ship master. Us negro boys worked as roustabouts to load and unload and keep the fire going. The boat run from
Alexandria, Louisiana, down the Red river to the Mississippi and then up to St. Louis and back to Alexandria again.
I was on that boat quite a long time, and then Old Master's boy Tom Cheet marry a part Creek woman and I go to live with them. They settle south of where Muskogee is now about two miles from the Honey Springs town. That was a good plantation, too, and they had good double log houses and lots of stock.
I lived in a cabin with a stick and mud chimney, and I had to keep putting out the fire where it set the sticks of the chimney until I daubed it all good with red clay.
Mistress had me help the children of the other slaves to make pots out of clay because I was good at it. We made good clay pots and I have made hominy in them like the Creeks make lots of times. We would make the pots and hang them in the chimney to bake, sometimes a whole week, then pick out the ones that didn't crack.
I was a great fellow with the Master's children because I would make them clay marbles. Roll them and bake them like the pots, and the children and the grown negroes too would play "sevens" with them on Sunday.
It seem like the slaves in the Creek country had a better time than most of the negroes in Louisiana, too. They played more and had their own church and preachers.
We went to a place where the colored preacher was Reverend Seymour Perry, and we used to baptize in the Elk and sing "Oh, I wish I could find some secret place where I could find my God."
They sung "When I come to die I want to be ready" and such songs as that.
The big thing on that plantation was the corn shucking. One every two weeks almost, and negroes from other plantations would come over to shuck for their masters and then we would go to another shucking the same way. The masters sold lots of corn to the army at Fort Gibson at the start of the War, and I took several loads, but before that we took it to Webbers Falls mostly.
War come along and Master go with the south side, and I went along to drive a wagon, but I got separated from Master the first thing and never seen him but once or twice in the War.
When they was going to strike a battle somewhere they would come and get us and our wagons and we would haul stuff for several days and nights to some place where they could get it. Then we would go off away from there before they had the battle so they wouldn't get us captured.
I've hauled like that all around Webbers Falls and Fort Gibson and Fort Davis and all over these rocky hills sometimes when we had to take an axe and cut a road at night, but I never seen but one battle and that was just the smoke. We was at a place close to where Braggs is now and we seen the fire when the Yankees burn up Honey Springs.
After the War all the negroes don't know what to do. My old pappy and mammy even come all the way out here in a ox wagon and then turn around and go back to North Carolina. They couldn't make a living here.
I stayed with Master until he died, and that wasn't very long, and then I married and settled down. Master been trying to get me to marry a long time, and here is how he done it.
I never did get along good with these Creek slaves out here and I always stayed around with the white folks. In fact I was afraid of these Creeks and always got off the road when I seen Creek negroes coming along. They would have red strings tied on their hats or something wild looking.
Well young Master say, "Henry, why don't you go over to Josh Brooks' house and see them folks. His daughter Maggie say to tell you to come on over to church out there. You got to make some friends out there, so you just go on over and see her. You free now."
Well, I take his good horse and Texas saddle and I ride over thataway.
Get about there and set down on a log to think about what I going to talk about. Them Creek negroes was so funny to talk to anyways. Well, I set there from in the morning to way in the evening and never go on to that house. Just turn round and go back.
Young Master say, "What that gal have to say, Henry boy?"
"Good things, Boss," I tell him. I sure lied and he knowed it, too, for he nearly died laughing.
Just the same I went on back, and pretty soon I got the gal an married her, and we got some of that Creek money and bought a house close to Honey Springs.
On the boat I learned to fiddle, and I can make an old fiddle talk. So I done pretty good playing for the white dances for a long time after the War, and they sure had some good ones. Everything from a waltz to a Schottische I played. Sometimes some white people didn't like to have me play, but young Master (I always called him that till he died) would say, "Where I go my boy can go too."
I never was sick bad in my life but once. On the old place in North Carolina Old Mistress looked after the sick and got a doctor, but out here young Mistress give the sick ones mullen, May apple, burr vine, Red Root, Life Everlasting and things like that for sickness. All the negroes wore a little bag of asephoedita around the neck to keep off disease, too.
That time I was sick I thought I seen ghosts, but I guess it was the fever. We was moving, the year after the war, and at midnight we had to break camp because I thought I seen people moving around in the woods, dogs barked out in the woods, and an old Indian with one eye come up to my pallet and when I moved the covers he disappeared.
I bin back to Africa since the War, too.
Some white people come from Tennessee I think, and got up a delegation of negroes to go back and show the Africans how we are civilized. It was right about the time of statehood, for Oklahoma was a state when I got back.
They took about fifty negroes and I went along. We sailed from New Orleans on a big boat and they was negroes from every state in the bunch.
We went to the Bahama Islands and then on to Africa, and when we got to the jungle camp in Africa I seen them African negroes just like they was wild.
They had some little men with scars all over them that they said was cannibals and they would eat human meat.
In one place where we was about a month they had underground jails. Just dug a big hole and put heavy logs over it and dirt on that. Then they put the prisoners they got in their wars down in that hole and sold them off to white man that come in ships to get them.
They was still selling them, too, but not to men from America any more but from other places. The bunch I was with tried to tell them it was wrong.
In One place they ate raw meat, and we tried to offer them cooked meat and they told the black man that we had along that it was bad for the stomach, so he said.
I don't think we done any good, and still we stayed there in Africa a long time, maybe two or three years.
When we come back home I just keep on living around one place and another, in Arkansas, Louisiana, Oklahoma and two or three trips in Missouri.
We got this little place here and been here ever since, and I
guess it is my last resting place.
I'm glad we are free, and don't have to work any more whether we are sick or not, like in slavery days.
I went to church always and am a good Christian, and I hope to see my Maker and both my Masters because they was both good, kind men.
Everybody should have religion, but you got to go slow and not try to change the leopard spots quick, like them people done in Africa. I don't think they done a bit of good.
Just trust in God and hoe your row and sidestep away from the great temptation, that's what I say.