Georgia:  Oglethrope County:  Julia Larken Slave Narrative 

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Julia Larken
Slave Narrative

WPA Slave Narrative Project, Georgia Narratives, Volume 4, Part 3

Julia Larkin - ex-slave - age 76
693 Meigs Street
Athens, Georgia

Written by: Miss Grace McCune, Athens
Edited by: Mrs. Sarah H. Hall, Athens
and John N. Booth, District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project Residencies 6 & 7 Augusta, Georgia

Julia's small three-room cottage is a servant house at the rear of a white
family's residence. A gate through an old-fashioned picket fence led into a
spacious yard where dense shade from tall pecan trees was particularly
inviting after a long walk in the sweltering heat.

An aged mulatto woman was seated on the narrow porch. Her straight white
hair was arranged in braids, and her faded print dress and enormous checked
apron were clean and carefully patched. A pair of dark colored tennis shoes
completed her costume. She arose, tall and erect, to greet her visitor.
"Yessum, dis here's Julia Larken," she said with a friendly smile. "Come
right in, Chile, and set here and rest on my nice cool porch. I knows you's
tired plumb out. You shouldn't be out walkin' 'round in dis hot sun - It
ain't good for you. It'll make you have brain fever 'fore you knows it."

When asked for the story of her life, Julia replied: "Lordy, Chile, did you
do all dis walkin', hot as it is today, jus' to hear dis old Nigger talk?
Well, jus' let me tell you, dem days back yonder 'fore de war was de
happiest time of my whole life.

"I don't know much 'bout slavery, 'cause I was jus' a little gal when de war
ended. I was borned in war times on Marse Payton Sails' plantation, way off
down in Lincoln County.

My Ma was borned and bred right dar on dat same place. Marster bought my
Daddy and his Mammy from Captain LeMars, and dey tuk de name of Sails atter
dey come to live on his place. Mammy's name was Betsy Sails and Daddy was
named Sam'l. Dey was married soon atter Marster fetched Daddy dar.

"Dere ain't no tellin' how big Marster's old plantation was. His house set
right on top of a high hill. His plantation road circled 'round dat hill two
or three times gittin' from de big road to de top of de hill. Dere was a
great deep well in de yard whar dey got de water for de big house. Marster's
room was upstairs and had steps on de outside dat come down into de yard. On
one side of his house was a fine apple orchard, so big dat it went all de
way down de hill to de big road.

"On de other side of de house was a large gyarden whar us raised evvything
in de way of good veg'tables; dere was beans, corn, peas, turnips, collards,
'taters, and onions. Why dey had a big patch of nothin' but onions. Us did
love onions. Dere was allus plenty of good meat in Marster's big old
smokehouse dat stood close by de well. Marster, he believed in raisin' heaps
of meat. He had cows, hogs, goats, and sheep, not to mention his chickens
and turkeys.

"All de cloth for slaves' clothes was made at home. Mammy was one of de
cooks up at de big house, and she made cloth too. Daddy was de shoe man. He
made de shoes for all de folks on de plantation.

"De log cabins what de slaves lived in was off a piece from de big house.
Dem cabins had rock chimblies, put together wid red mud. Dere warn't no
glass in de windows and doors of dem cabins - jus' plain old home-made
wooden shutters and doors." Julia laughed as she told of their beds. "Us
called 'em four posters, and dat's what dey was, but dey was jus' plain old
pine posties what one of de men on de plantation made up. Two posties at de
head and two at de foot wid pine rails betwixt 'em was de way dey made dem
beds. Dere warn't no sto'-bought steel springs dem days, not even for de
white folks, but dem old cord springs went a long ways towards makin' de
beds comfortable and dey helped to hold de bed together. De four poster beds
de white folks slept on was corded too, but deir posties warn't made out of
pine. Dey used oak and walnut and sometimes real mahogany, and dey carved
'em up pretty. Some of dem big old posties to de white folkses beds was six
inches thick.

"Slaves all et up at de big house in dat long old kitchen. I kin jus' see
dat kitchen now. It warn't built on to de big house, 'cept it was at de end
of a big porch dat went from it to de big house. A great big fireplace was
'most all de way 'cross one end of dat kitchen, and it had racks and cranes
for de pots and pans and ovens but, jus' let me tell you, our Marster had a
cookstove too. Yessum, it was a real sho' 'nough iron cookstove. No'm, it
warn't 'zactly lak de stoves us uses now. It was jus' a long, low stove,
widout much laigs, jus' flat on top wid eyes to cook on. De oven was at de
bottom. Mammy and Grandma Mary was mighty proud of dat stove, 'cause dere
warn't nobody else 'round dar what had a cookstove, so us was jus' plumb
rich folks.

"Slaves didn't come to de house for dinner when dey was wukin' a fur piece
off in de fields. It was sont to 'em, and dat was what kilt one of my
brothers. Whilst it was hot, de cooks would set de bucket of dinner on his
haid and tell him to run to de field wid it fore it got cold. He died wid
brain fever, and de doctor said it was from totin' all dem hot victuals on
his haid. Pore Brudder John, he sho' died out, and ever since den I been
skeered of gittin' too hot on top of de haid.

"Dere was twelve of Mammy's chillun in all, countin' Little Peter who died
out when he was a baby. De other boys was John, Tramer, Sam'l, George, and
Scott. De only one of my brothers left now is George, leastwise I reckon
he's livin' yet. De last 'count I had of him he was in Chicago, and he must
be 'bout a hundred years old now. De gals was me and Mary, 'Merica, Hannah,
Betsy, and Emma.

"'Fore Grandma Mary got too old to do all de cookin', Mammy wuked in de
field. Mammy said she allus woke up early, and she could hear Marster when
he started gittin' up. She would hurry and git out 'fore he had time to call
'em. Sometimes she cotch her hoss and rid to the field ahead of de others,
'cause Marster never laked for nobody to be late in de mornin'. One time he
got atter one of his young slaves out in de field and told him he was a good
mind to have him whupped. Dat night de young Nigger was tellin' a old slave
'bout it, and de old men jus' laughed and said: 'When Marster pesters me dat
way I jus' rise up and cuss him out.' Dat young fellow 'cided he would try
it out and de next time Marster got atter him dey had a rukus what I ain't
never gwine to forgit. Us was all out in de yard at de big house, skeered to
git a good breath when us heared Marster tell him to do somepin, 'cause us
knowed what he was meanin' to do. He didn't go right ahead and mind Marster
lak he had allus been used to doin'. Marster called to him again, and den
dat fool Nigger cut loose and he evermore did cuss Marster out. Lordy,
Chile, Marster jus' fairly tuk de hide off dat Nigger's back. When he tried
to talk to dat old slave 'bout it de old man laughed and said: 'Shucks, I
allus waits 'til I gits to de field to cuss Marster so he won't hear me.'

"Marster didn't have but two boys and one of 'em got kilt in de war. Dat
sho'ly did hurt our good old Marster, but dat was de onliest diffunce de war
made on our place. When it was over and dey said us was free, all de slaves
stayed right on wid de Marster; dat was all dey knowed to do. Marster told
'em dey could stay on jus' as long as dey wanted to, and dey was right dar
on dat hill 'til Marster had done died out and gone to Glory.

"Us chillun thought hog killin' time was de best time of all de year. Us
would hang 'round de pots whar dey was rendin' up de lard and all day us et
dem good old browned skin cracklin's and ash roasted 'taters. Marster allus
kilt from 50 to 60 hogs at a time. It tuk dat much meat to feed all de folks
dat had to eat from his kitchen. Little chillun never had nothin' much to do
'cept eat and sleep and play, but now, jus' let me tell you for sho', dere
warn't no runnin' 'round nights lak dey does now. Not long 'fore sundown dey
give evvy slave chile a wooden bowl of buttermilk and cornpone and a wooden
spoon to eat it wid. Us knowed us had to finish eatin' in time to be in bed
by de time it got dark.

"Our homespun dresses had plain waisties wid long skirts gathered on to 'em.
In hot weather chillun wore jus' one piece; dat was a plain slip, but in
cold weather us had plenty of good warm clothes. Dey wove cotton and wool
together to make warm cloth for our winter clothes and made shoes for us to
wear in winter too. Marster evermore did believe in takin' good keer of his
Niggers.

"I kin ricollect dat 'fore dere was any churches right in our neighborhood,
slaves would walk 8 and 10 miles to church. Dey would git up 'way 'fore dawn
on meetin' day, so as to git dar on time. Us wouldn't wear our shoes on dem
long walks, but jus' went barfoots 'til us got nearly to de meetin' house. I
jus' kin 'member dat, for chillun warn't 'lowed to try to walk dat fur a
piece, but us could git up early in de mornin' and see de grown folks start
off. Dey was dressed in deir best Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes and deir
shoes, all Sunday shined up, was tied together and hung over deir shoulders
to Clothing keep 'em from gittin' dust on 'em. Men folks had on plain
homespun shirts and jeans pants. De jeans what deir pants was made out of
was homespun too. Some of de 'omans wore homespun dresses, but most of 'em
had a calico dress what was saved special for Sunday meetin' wear. 'Omans
wore two or three petticoats all ruffled and starched 'til one of dem
underskirts would stand by itself. Dey went barfoots wid deir shoes hung
over deir shoulders, jus' lak de mens, and evvy 'oman pinned up her dress
and evvy one of her petticoats but one to keep 'em from gittin' muddy.
Dresses and underskirts was made long enough to touch de ground dem days.
Dey allus went off singin', and us chillun would be wishin' for de time when
us would be old enough to wear long dresses wid starched petticoats and go
to meetin'. Us chillun tried our best to stay 'wake 'til dey got home so us
could hear 'em talk 'bout de preachin' and singin' and testifyin' for de
Lord, and us allus axed how many had done jined de church dat day.

"Long 'fore I was old enough to make dat trip on foot, dey built a Baptist
church nearby. It was de white folkses church, but dey let deir own Niggers
join dar too, and how us chillun did love to play 'round it. No'm, us never
broke out no windows or hurt nothin' playin' dar. Us warn't never 'lowed to
throw no rocks when us was on de church grounds. De church was up on top of
a high hill and at de bottom of dat hill was de creek whar de white folks
had a fine pool for baptizin'. Dey had wooden steps to go down into it and a
long wooden trough leadin' from de creek to fill up de pool whenever dere
was baptizin' to be done. Dey had real sermons in dat church and folks come
from miles around to see dem baptizin's. White folks was baptized fust an
den de Niggers. When de time come for to baptize dem Niggers you could hear
'em singin' and shoutin' a long ways off.

"It jus' don't seem lak folks has de same sort of 'ligion now dey had dem
days, 'specially when somebody dies. Den de neighbors all went to de house
whar de corpse was and sung and prayed wid de fambly. De coffins had to be
made atter folks was done dead. Dey measured de corpse and made de coffin
'cordin'ly. Most of 'em was made out of plain pine wood, lined wid black
calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de outside. Dey didn't have
no 'balmers on de plantations so dey couldn't keep dead folks out long; dey
had to bury 'em de very next day atter dey died. Dey put de corpse in one
wagon and de fambly rode in another, but all de other folks walked to de
graveyard. When dey put de coffin in de grave dey didn't have no sep'rate
box to place it in, but dey did lay planks 'cross de top of it 'fore de dirt
was put in. De preacher said a prayer and de folks sung - Harps from de
Tomb. Maybe several months later dey would have de funeral preached some
Sunday.

"Us had all sorts of big doin's at harvest time. Dere was cornshuckin's,
logrollin's, syrup makin's, and cotton pickin's. Dey tuk time about from one
big plantation to another. Evvy place whar dey was a-goin' to celebrate tuk
time off to cook up a lot of tasty eatments, 'specially to barbecue plenty
of good meat. De Marsters at dem diffunt places allus seed dat dere was
plenty of liquor passed 'round and when de wuk was done and de Niggers et
all dey wanted, dey danced and played 'most all night. What us chillun laked
most 'bout it was de eatin'. What I 'member best of all is de good old corn
risin' lightbread. Did you ever see any of it, Chile? Why, my Mammy and
Grandma Mary could bake dat bread so good it would jus' melt in your mouth.

"Mammy died whilst I was still little and Daddy married again. I guess his
second wife had a time wid all of us chillun. She tried to be good to us,
but I was skeered of her for a long time atter she come to our cabin. She
larnt me how to make my dresses, and de fust one I made all by myself was a
long sight too big for me. I tried it on and was plumb sick 'bout it bein'
so big, den she said: 'Never mind, you'll grow to it.' Let me tell you, I
got dat dress off in a hurry 'cause I was 'most skeered to death for fear
dat if I kept it on it would grow to my skin lak I thought she meant. I
never put dat dress on no more for a long time and dat was atter I found out
dat she jus' meant dat my dress would fit me atter I had growed a little
more.

"All us chillun used to pick cotton for Marster, and he bought all our
clothes and shoes. One day he told me and Mary dat us could go to de store
and git us a pair of shoes apiece. 'Course us knowed what kind of shoes he
meant for us to git, but Mary wanted a fine pair of Sunday shoes and dat's
what she picked out and tuk home. Me, I got brass-toed brogans lak Marster
meant for us to git. 'Bout half way home Mary put on her shoes and walked to
de big house in 'em. When Marster seed 'em he was sho' mad as a hornet, but
it was too late to take 'em back to de store atter de shoes had done been
wore and was all scratched up. Marster fussed: 'Blast your hide, I'm a good
mind to thrash you to death.' Mary stood dar shakin' and tremblin', but
dat's all Marster ever said to her 'bout it. Us heared him tell Mist'ess dat
gal Mary was a right smart Nigger.

"Marster had a great big old bull dat was mighty mean. He had real long
horns, and he could lift de fence railin's down one by one and turn all de
cows out. Evvy time he got out he would fight us chillun, so Marster had to
keep him fastened up in de stable. One day when us wanted to play in de
stable, us turned Old Camel (dat was de bull) out in de pasture. He tuk down
rails enough wid his horns to let de cows in Marster's fine gyarden and dey
et it all up. Marster was wuss dan mad dat time, but us hid in de barn under
some hay 'til he went to bed. Next mornin' he called us all up to git our
whuppin', but us cried and said us wouldn't never do it no more so our good
old Marster let us off dat time.

"Lak I done said before, I stayed on dar 'til Marster died, den I married
Matthew Hartsfield. Lordy, Chile, us didn't have no weddin'. I had on a new
calico dress and Matthew wore some new blue jeans breeches. De Reverend
Hargrove, de white folks preacher, married us and nobody didn't know nothin'
'bout it 'til it was all over. Us went to Oglethorpe County and lived dar 19
years 'fore Matthew died. I wuked wid white folks dar 'til I married up wid
Ben Larken and us come on here to Athens to live. I have done some wuk for
'most all de white folks 'round here. Ben's grandpappy was a miller on Potts
Creek, nigh Stephens, and sometimes Ben used to have to go help him out wid
de wuk, atter he got old and feeble.

"Dey's all gone now and 'cept for some nieces, I'm left all alone. I kin
still mind de chillun and even do a little wuk. For dat I do give thanks to
de Good Lord - dat he keeps me able to do some wuk.

"Goodbye Chile," said Julia, when her visitor arose to leave. "You must be
more keerful 'bout walkin' 'round when de sun is too hot. It'll make you
sick sho'. Folks jus' don't know how to take de right sort of keer of
deyselves dese days."