From the WPA Slave
Narratives:
Charlie Bell
Click on photo for larger image - Photo by James Butters
Charlie Bell, colored, was born at Poplarville, Pearl River County,
Mississippi, in 1856 on the plantation of a Mr. Moore. Charlie does not recall
his master's given name nor initials as he himself was only nine years old
when he was transferred to another owner. But he remembers that Mr. Moore had
four hundred slaves and upwards of six hundred acres in cultivation and that
there were four sons and three daughters in the Moore family.
Just at the close of the Civil War, one of Mr. Moore's daughters was married
to "the Mr. Long-Bell-Lumber Company Bell" and Charlie was one of the nine
darkies, including his own parents, "who just stayed on," as a part of Little
Miss's "setting-out." Hence his surname became Bell by which he is still
known.
Bell, at his present age of eighty-one, is hale and erect, in color medium
brown (as browns in this sense go) set off by a growth of closely kinked
benevolent-looking white wool covering his head, cheeks, chin and most of his
neck. He is five feet, six inches, tall and weighs one hundred sixty-five
pounds. His upper teeth present a solid gold front which condition, be it
noted, is less disfiguring to the negro face than to the white; in fact, the
color scheme is rather good, which may account for the pride most negroes take
in the possession of gold teeth.
Bell's story offers the rather unique item that at the age of eighty-one, he
is still earning his living by his own labor, being now employed as handiman
at the McQuillan Distributing Agency for Fehr's Beer, No. 245, 24th Ave.,
Meridian, Miss. It is not to be assumed, however, that Bell sympathized with
the consumption of alcoholic beverages. On the contrary, he has a very poor
opinion of the practice, rising from the observation of a long life, declaring
"can't no man beat John Barleycorn because he whups ever man that jumps on
him." The suggestion was made to Bell that probably he had never been ill
since he looked so strong and healthy. To this he replied modestly that he
hadn't "been sick any too much;" "aint took a dose of Epsom Salts since 1914."
Interest was felt in how and why Bell left Pearl River County to take up his
abode in Meridian. He supplied this information politely but appeared slightly
embarrassed by the questioner's ignorance. "Taint no piece over there;
I can walk there in a day. I just come to Meridian. Of course when I was a
little feller, our largest city was Mobile or maybe Biloxi." The inference is
obvious, we believe?
On the subject of his domestic affairs, Bell was inclined to be reticent. "Me
and my wife is separated. I just lives with a family in Royal Alley" (this is
near St. Luke's Street on South Side, Meridian, a section more or less given
over to the daughters of joy, regardless of color). "Yes'm, I has chullen but
they aint no good." When pressed to give the number of his offspring: "About
fourteen head of 'em." It was then suggested that he must have many
grandchildren and he agreed that he probably had "a right smart of 'em" but
did not know how many as all his children were grown and living in other parts
of the country.
"I b'longed to Mr. Mo' frum Poplarville in Pearl River County. They was 'bout
fo' hund'ed slaves an' up'ards of six hund'ed acres in cultivation; hit aint
no tellin' how many acres they was in all. I disremembers his fus' name 'cause
I wasn't but nine year old when de Surrender come in sixty-five an' Mr. Mo's
oldest girl mar'ied, an' me an' my mama an' my daddy an' six others was part
of her settin'-out. So we jes stayed on. She mar'ied Mr. Long-Bell-Lumber
Company Bell, an' that's how come my name is Bell 'stead of Mo'.
"My mother was bornd between Poplarville an' Picayune an' my father was bornd
at Red Church forty mile below New Orleans. I have heard say my gran'father
was bornd there too.
My father was a carpenter an' a blacksmith, could make a whole wagon, go out
an' cut him a gum tree an' make a whole wooden wagon, an' hubs an' ever'thing.
That's how come they didn' take him to de War; leave him at home ter make mule
shoes an' things. He was a powerful worker.
"I 'tended de cows an' calves - give 'em water - an' fed de chickens what roos'
in de big hen-house. But 'fo I got big enough ter do that, I stay in de 'long
house' with de other little fellers. It was jes hewed out er logs. They was
notched ter fit - like this - an' dobbed with mud an' pine straw - wouldn't
never wash out. Three of de old women 'tended ter de chullun an' cooked they
sompin'-t'eat. They'd po' syrup in ever'one of 'em's plate an' ever'one of 'em
had a tin cup ter theyse'f fer they milk. They had a big oven like a
frog-stool house, made out er mud. In de summer they moved hit out in de yard
'cause de chullun didn' stay in de 'long house' 'cep' in de winter. Hit was
plum full then, though, an' Miss Mo' she come out ever' day an' teached us
out'n a Blue Back Speller.
"Mr. Mo' built a log church for his labor on de plantation. A white preacher
come twice a month ter speak ter us. His tex' would always be 'Obey yo'
marster an'
mistress that yo' days may be lingerin' upon God's green earth what he give
you. We didn' have no nigger preachin' ter us when I was little.
"Some of de colored folks was pretty sociable. Some of 'em was pretty good
scholards, could read well enough ter go anywhere an' enjoy theyse'fs. De
niggers on de plantation danced a heap - seemed ter me like hit was mos' ever'
night. You takes a coon skin an' make a drum out of hit, stretch hit over a
keg - a sawed-off one - dat make a fine drum. An' banjos an' fiddlers! Didn'
have no mandolines an' gui-tars then.
"I've heard say they didn' never buy medicine. Whenever one of 'em got sick,
they give 'em peach-tree leaves fer chils an' fever an' biliousness; hit was
boiled an' steeped. An' they give 'em red-oak bark fer dysentery; put hit in a
glass an' po' cold water over hit an' drink off er hit all day. Fer jes plain
sprains, they'd make a poultice out er okra leaves; hit ud show draw you! You
know what they'd put on a bad sprain? Put a dirt-dobber's nest an' vinegar.
When de chullun had dem bad colds like they has now, they give 'em hic'ry bark
tea, drink hit kinder warm, drink hit night an' mornin'. Hit kep' dat cough
frum botherin' 'em.
"Mr. Mo' went ter de War an' come back all right. Found things on de
plantation jes like he lef' 'em. You see, when you has servants arouns yo'
house, they keeps hit whether yo' presence er yo' absence is there. I show you
what I means, madam. After Mr. Mo' come back frum de Civil War, he had all de
barns overhauled an' banked ever-thing, turnips an' ever'thing, so he'd be
able ter take care er all his labor he had on de place. Didn't but a few
niggers leave. They all stayed wid him till he died. After he died, they
scattered.
"When de Yankees come down endurin' of de time of de War, I remembers 'em
comin' by an' givin' us candy. They mus' er been a hundred small chullun of us
there. I say ter de old colored woman what looked after us, I say 'Look here,
they aint got no wagons like we got.' They wagons wasn't made like ours. The
Yankees didn' trouble nothin' on de plantation. After I got grown, I found out
why they didn' bother us: 'cause Mrs. Mo' was a Eastern Star sister an' de
Gen'l wouldn' let 'em bother us. I tell you in a minute what his name was. He
was a small-like stout man, had a little beard jes like dis er-way ... I'd
know him right now if I was ter see him. Name Sherman - that was hit.
"I fus' come ter Mer-ree-dian when I was a grown boy. Hit aint no piece over
ter Poplarville frum here. I could walk hit in a day. Of co' 'se, when I was a
little feller, our larges' city was Mobile or maybe B'loxi, but hit's diffrunt
now. Hit took eight days ter go ter Mobile in er ox wagon th'ough de country.
Hit was de cotton market. We'd bring back coffee an' cloth an' shoes an'
things.
"Miss Bell went ter Arkansas ter live after she mar'ied an' tuck us nine
niggers with her. Mr. Bell raised me frum then on right frum his table. They'd
go north ter spen' de summer, er to California sometimes, an' I go with 'em
wheresoever they go. I shined his shoes an' put his clothes in de pressin'
club ever'day. I was with him thirty some years befo' he died. I had three
thousan' dollars worth er stock in de Long-Bell Lumber Company. After while de
lumber bus'ness got mighty bad an' ever'body los' they money, white folks an'
niggers too. I got these here gold teeth after I come ter Mer-ree-dian. Hit's
been my head-quarters off an' on like you know you has headquarters in a big
place.
"I'se worked fer my bread an' meat all my life. I works now fer Mr. McQuillan
Beer 'Stributin' Company. But John Barleycorn, he's a bad feller. Can't no man
beat John Barleycorn 'cause he whups ever' man that jumps on him. Heap er
folks is sick fer that an' if hit aint that, hit's sompon' else. I aint been
sick any too much - aint took a dose er Epsom Salts since 1914.
"Me an' my wife is sep-er-rated. She spent all de money I had an' when de
lumber bus'ness got bad an' I couldn't get no mo', she tol' me I wasn't any
good. So I jes walk off an' lef' her. I jes lives with a fam'ly in Royal
Alley. I has chullun - 'bout fo'teen head of 'em - but they aint no good. They
all grown an' livin' away frum here. I 'spec' I got a right smart er
gran'chullun."
(The information herein was from Charlie Bell himself on July 5, 1937, at
Meridian, and verified at some points by Mr. Casper Phillips, Attorney,
Meridian, Mr. Phillips having known Bell for some years.
Interviewer: Unknown
Transcribed by: Ann Allen Geoghegan
Mississippi Narratives
Prepared by
The Federal Writer’s Project of
The Works Progress Administration
For the State of Mississippi