From the WPA Slave
Narratives:
Isaac Potter
Foreword: Isaac Potter, ex-slave, born about 1851 and was owned by Gilbert
Potter. He is now living three miles west of D'Lo on D'Lo and Georgetown road.
A wagon trail cut through dense woods of small oak trees and undergrowth and
leading from the main road, winds its way to the rear of the dilapidated
cottage of an old ex-slave known as Isaac Potter. He is usually found in the
winter seated before an open fire in his crude cabin. When the days grow
warmer he sits in a rickety chair out side under the trees with bare feet. He
is not very tall and heavy set. His large head is covered with snowy white
kinks, a high broad forehead, has typical African features with an extremely
thick under lip. His broad pleasant face is badly scarred from an accident
received when a small boy. While talking makes elaborate gestures and as his
vocabulary is very limited he fails to find words to express himself, in his
enthusiasm rises feebly from his rickety chair and makes quite a picturesque
figure as he acts the different parts, especially when he demonstrates how the
soldiers marched, drew their guns and while imitates various signals and
shouts.
"My fust master, when I was a slave was Jim Crowder, who bought my father an'
mudder from Yankee slave traders, who had captured 'em an' brung 'em over here
from Africa, an' sole' 'em to de Southern farmers. De Crowder plantation was
big. I don't know how many acres but deir was 'round seventy or seventy five
slaves. Dis was in Rankin County near Pelahatchee. His home was one of dem big
two story anti-bellum homes wid a big kitchen an' dinnin' room built 'way from
de main part whar dey kept cooks busy a feedin' an' cookin' fer de slaves. De
slave cottages was built of logs in long rows back ob Mar's house. Us lived in
dem but ate in de big kitchen. The slave workers was fed fust an' later de
chillun was called in and fed. Our mudder would all be out wukin' an' sometime
us chillun would git inter mischief. As fo myself I allus did crave a little
fun an' mix play 'long wid my wuk. Sometimes I would ketch it. One ob my fust
duties was ter feed de chickens which was raised by de hundreds. Dey would
send me wid big buckets ob feed to de chickens yard an' I did enji taking long
sticks or big rocks an' kill 'em. Dis was real fun to me. At fust I was afraid
to kill many ob 'em, den I got braver and braver and killed more and more.
Late on ebenin' I was de big giant an' dey was de little men. I'd feed em an'
kill one man, den I feel big an' kill annuder an' so on lack dat. I forgot
eber thing 'till I hear Mar's gal, Miss Mary Ann's, voice ahind me say "Now
I'se cotch yo." My hair hit stood straight up, I looked at my kill, hit looked
lack a thousand. I didn't know deir could be dat many dead chickens in de
world. She count 'em. I had kilt twenty five. She whipped me. I won't ust to
bein' whipped much and I slipped off in de woods 'fraid old Missus would whip
me too. Dey hunted through de woods all nite fer me wid big torches. Some ob
de slaves found me an' tole me Missus said she won't gwine ter whip me an' I
went home 'bout de crack ob day.
My master died and 'bout a year later Missus she married a Master Gilbert. Us
liked Mars Gilbert 'cause he was good to us, he didn't live long afore he died
too. Missus married again. Dis man was named Potter. Dis put me serving under
three masters.
My next wuk was at de stables, caring fo de horses, dis kept me busy, watering
dem, feeding 'em an' keepin' em curred. Mars wanted 'em slick an' shinnin'. I
had ter keep de harnesses straight an' in place an' de lot cleaned up. I laked
ter wuk wid 'em. I knowed how to talk to 'em.
I allus did lack ter do what I seed other folks do. From a small chile I hab
injied carring out things. I wish I had been one ob dem actor niggers. One day
when I was 'bout eight years old me and my brudder had run out ob nothin' to
amuse us. It was a long cole winter day. Us was setting 'round a big fire in
de cabin. De fire burned low to a deep red bed of coals. This give me an idea.
I tole my brudder fer us ter play lake us was Milly, de cook, with de big
apron an' cap and eber thing. Us stirred de coals an' was ready all but de big
aprons. Us didn't know what ter do 'bout dat, when us thought ob two gunny
sacks out in de woods shed. Us got 'em an' by tying 'em 'round us necks dey
reached our toes; de very thing us needed. I had more than my brudder, fer I
tied his in a bow, while he tied mine in a hard knot. Us went ter wuk, just
like Aunt Milly. We put bread in a skillet on de coals and covered sweet
potatoes in de hot ashes, den raked up some coals an' fryed us some ham. When
de meal was finished us was gwine ter take de aprons off. Brudder he reached
up and gib his a pull an' de bow come ontied but mine was tied so hit just
wouldn't come loose. Us tried 'till we saw us couldn't make it. Us decided to
stick fire ter hit and burn hit off. Brudder set fire to hit at my feet an' de
fire blazed all over dat fuzy sack lack lightening. I run and screamed to ole
Missus. Dat is why my face, hands, and body is all scarred up today.
In slave days if us wanted to go no where off the plantation us had to git a
pass from our Master, den us had to git in by a certain time. If us failed ter
be back the patrol riders would find hit out an' bring us in. Sometimes us
would visit each other and set 'round a while an' talk, again us went huntin'.
That is what I wanted ter do mos' ob all. In dem days deir was lots ob game in
de swamps. Us had dances too. Dat's when us had a grand time, wid de fiddles
and guitars a playin'. At times de niggers would tie up and fight. If dey hurt
a slave he was scared to go home fer the owner would get riled up if one ob
his slaves got hurt or crippled up. At dese frolics we would be havin' such a
merry time us would ferget when to go home. Dey always had a big fire burning
ter see by an' when de patrole rode up ter take us in, we would fight 'em off
wit hot coals. Dozens of niggers would be slingin' fire as hard and fas' as
dey could throw hit. De patrol riders would jest natu'ally have to run.
When I was a slave an' fer years ater-wards, I had de superstition of my race
but I'se done learned better dan to believe a heap o' dat stuff. But just
before de war to free us, we had de coldest weader dat I believe has eber been
on de face ob de earth. De deepest snows would come, wroppin's up eber thing
an' stay on de ground fer days. De ponds and lakes would freeze over wid thick
coats ob ice. Hit got so cold 'till de pigeons begin to fly north in such big
droves dat dey looked lak big clouds. One day us slaves saw a cloud of 'em
flyin' over us. We took long flint guns and begin ter shoot 'em. I helped pick
up a cotton basket full. When de war come on us believed all dat to be a
warning. Afore I learned better I saw more ghos' dan any nigger alive. I'se
run many a mile from haints. When I had ter pass a grave yard at nite I'd pull
my hat ober my face an' hold hit as tight as I could an' run 'till I'd be
plumb out ob breath. One nite I saw a sure enough ghos' hit was a headless
woman dressed in black, a walkin' 'round. I lack to run plumb out ob de
country. Another haint kept me in a ole field all nite one time. I had been to
see my gal and was gwine to cut through a ole field home. De moon was a
shinnin' bright. I looked up an' saw a tall white ghos' a head o' me. My hair
stood straight out and sizzled. I was scared ter move, den I bowed ober an'
dat ghos' bowed too, each time I moved hit did too. I just lay down and be's
right still so dat ghos' would be still. I stayed deir fer hours fer eber time
I would stir dat ghos' stir too. I decided I would talk to hit. I say "Now if
you will let me alone, I will let you alone." I stood trembling and told dat
ghos' eber thing I could think ob. When I happened ter notice dat all de time
hit was my shadder against a tall stump, I an't believed in no ghos' since.
When de war come on I recon I jined hit. I wuked in de camp fer a long time. I
was already trained ter look after horses an' be handy at eber ting in
general. I injied watching de soldiers drill an' de sham battles. I was a
takin' hit all in; soon I knowed how to march and draw de gun - hit was like
dis (in his semi-blindness marched back and forth going through the motions.)
I neber could understand why de soldiers could be so cheerful knowing dey
might git kilt any time. Dey would sing an' dance an' joke all de time, right
up to de time dey was called to battle. I've saw 'em come in after a hard
battle, when de northern soldiers would be campin' near, dey would go to each
other's camps an' swap coffee an' tobacco. Dey would laugh and wrestle an' hab
de biggest time. When dey would part for de nite dey would say to each other,
"We'll give you hell tomorrow." Long toward de end ob de war de southern
soldiers got so hungry, de Calverymen had come through and destroyed eberthing
ter eat. I have saw big army wagons wid dem big wheels run over big frogs,
mashing dem flat as a rag, an' de soldiers come 'long an' shake de dust off
an' eat 'em. Dey would eat horse flesh. I have eaten it and liked it a number
of times.
After de war ended and us was freed us had a hard time. After a few years ob
hirein' out I settled on a small farm an' got married. I am now livin' wid my
second wife. My fust wife an' all my chillun is dead but one an' a gal.
I'se old and nearly blind, de government is takin' care ob me an' I wants to
stay here as long as I can.
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
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"If you teach them where they come from, they won't need as much help finding where they are going!" Cordelia Carothers " Aunt Dee" Geoghegan (1894-1987)
Project Manager: Ann
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