The Slave Narrative Collection
An OKGenWeb Special Project
Age abt. 87 yrs
My parents came from Georgia with the Cherokees. They came by boat I 'spect. I don't know much about 'em. Can't even remember my mother; she died when I'se so young. She belonged to Vina Ratliff. My father must have belonged to John Drew but he was sold and sent to Mississippi long before the war.
I'se born in 1852 down below Tahlequah on the Ratliff Plantation. Yes, I'se born a Ratliff. I remember the big log house of my master and the little ones the slaves lived in.
I got in to Mart McCoy's hands somehow. There was an attachment or bond or something. He was sheriff down near Dwight Mission. I couldn't tell how come'- we slaves didn't know nuthin' anyhow. Then Master Ratliff got me back again. I'se there for a while then sold to William Penn Adair. I remember the old Adair Plantation. Master Adar had his first wife then. The lived in a double log house. There was two big rooms with an entry in between. Didn't you never see a house with an entry? Well, you go in just like this: I walk in entry, I go this way and there's the door of one room, then I go that way and there's the door of other room.
You ask me why they didn't have no bigger house. Why they couldn't have done no better. They hadn't had time. They was drove here in '35 and I lived there in '62. They hadn't had much time to build much house, but it was warm. Them two rooms had rock fireplaces, with a big rock hearth. They had big mantle-boards like. You don't see them none no more. They cooked on the kitchen fireplace; baked the bread in a skillet laid in the coals. Everybody had fireplaces. I never seen no stove till I got free up in Kansas. The bedstead had curtains all around, I remember that, too. And there was a trundle bed for the children. You slide it under the big bed in the day time. Never see them no more, either.
Master William had about ten slaves. I remember the names of five, Francis, Margaret, Tobe and Bean, not countin' myself. Francis and Margaret washed, spinned and weaved. They wove lots and lots of goods. Didn't you never see no weavin'? They carded the wool first make roll, then they put it, the cotton, on a wheel and spin it round and round like this. They use their feet too. They made bed spreads, sheets jeans for pants. Oh, we ain't no count now; we don't know how to do nuthin'.
We lived in the Joe Martin community. I've heard tell how mean he was. Lots of the Cherokees had slaves. There was the Adairs, William Penn, my Marster, Fran, John, and George Washington, the Martins, the Drews, and old Dick Sanders. Most of the Cherokees was good to their slaves but he crossed up with sometimes. Mistress Sarah his wife, she was good to us, yes awful good to us. Them Adairs was all smart people. I used to go and visit old Aunt Suzanna McNair (she was a Bell.) We like to talk over old times. Washington Adair got shot one time. His home was just a little ways from Master William's all live close together. Well, he set up his gun some way and it fell, and shot him right through the leg. You just talk to some of his gran' children. They tell you I'se tellin' you the truth.
Does I believe in Spirits? Sure I do. This old flesh and bones goin' back from what God make it, but our spirits never die. Sometimes the spirits of folks what' dead come back. I've heard of haunted house where there was rappin's and the like but I never did hear any myself. Tell you what I did see, more than once. Back in Ft. Scott where I worked there's little gir, beautiful little girl with long curls. I wondered why God made me black and that little girl so white. Before I left she died, I saw her lyin' in the casket. Long time after she came to me in a dream like. I saw a little girl with curls, all dressed in white. Seemed like she was here a minute, then she walked out the door and was gone. She come more than once and stand right here in that door. Sometime that little girl goin' come back all dressed in white and take old Aunt Chaney out the door and I won't never come back.
Contributed by M. Dawson, May 2002