My Life In The South by Jacob Stroyer

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MY LIFE IN THE SOUTH.

[Illustration: JACOB STROYER.]

MY LIFE IN THE SOUTH.

BY
JACOB STROYER.

NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION.

SALEM, MASS.:
Newcomb & Gauss, Printers.
1898.

* * * * *

Salem, Mass., September 19, 1898.

Mr. Stroyer's account of his experience in slavery and during the war is
of great interest and value as a trustworthy description of the
condition and life of slaves _by one of themselves_. His memory is
remarkably keen and his narrative vivid and at times both touching and
thrilling. The book is a great credit to its author and deserves a
generous reception and a wide circulation.

John Wright Buckham.

* * * * *

August 13, 1879.

In this book Mr. Stroyer has given us, with a most simple and effective
realism, the inside view of the institution of slavery. It is worth
reading, to know how men, intelligent enough to report their experience,
felt under the yoke. The time has come when American slavery can be
studied historically, without passion, save such as mixes itself with
the wonder that so great an evil could exist so long as a social form or
a political idol. The time has not come when such study is unnecessary;
for to deal justly by white or black in the United States, their
previous relations must be understood, and nothing which casts light on
the most universal and practical of those relations is without value
today. I take pleasure, therefore, in saying that I consider Mr. Stroyer
a competent and trustworthy witness to these details of plantation life.

E.C. Bolles.

* * * * *

City of Salem, Mayor's Office,
Nov. 5, 1884.

This is to certify that since the year 1876 I have known Rev. Jacob
Stroyer as a preacher and minister to the colored people of this city.
He is earnest, devoted and faithful.

He is endeavoring by the sale of this book to realize the means to
enable him, by a course of study, to better fit himself as a minister to
preach in the South.

I most cheerfully commend him in his praiseworthy efforts.

Wm. M. Hill, _Mayor_.

* * * * *

Mr. Stroyer's book is a setting forth in a fresh and unique manner of
the old and bitter wrongs of American slavery. It is an inside view of a
phase of our national life which has happily passed away forever.
Although it concerns itself largely with incidents and details, it is
not without the historical value which attaches to reliable personal
reminiscences. The author has made commendable progress in intellectual
culture, and is worthy of generous assistance in his effort to fit
himself still more perfectly for labor among his needy brethren in the
South.

E.S. Atwood.

* * * * *

PREFACE.

Fourth Edition.

When the author first presented his book to the public he did not
anticipate the very great favor with which it would be received. The
first edition was soon disposed of, a second and a third were called
for, and those were as generously received as had been their
predecessors. The present edition, the fourth, besides all that was in
those former publications, contains some new material relating to the
author's personal experiences in the Civil War.

Thanking the people for the support given, and hoping that this latest
effort will meet approval, the author presents the story of himself and
his once oppressed brethren.

CHAPTER I.

My father was born in Sierra Leone, Africa. Of his parents and his
brothers and sisters I know nothing. I only remember that it was said
that his father's name was Moncoso, and his mother's Mongomo, which
names are known only among the native Africans. He was brought from
Africa when but a boy, and sold to old Colonel Dick Singleton, who owned
a great many plantations in South Carolina, and when the old colonel
divided his property among his children, father fell to the second son,
Col. M.R. Singleton.

Mother never was sold, but her parents were; they were owned by one Mr.
Crough, who sold them and the rest of the slaves, with the plantation,
to Col. Dick Singleton, upon whose place mother was born. I was born on
this extensive plantation, twenty-eight miles southeast of Columbia,
South Carolina, in the year 1849. I belonged to Col. M.R. Singleton, and
was held in slavery up to the time of the emancipation proclamation
issued by President Lincoln.

THE CHILDREN.

My father had fifteen children: four boys and three girls by his first
wife and eight by his second. Their names were as follows: of the
boys--Toney, Aszerine, Duke and Dezine; of the girls--Violet, Priscilla,
and Lydia. Those of his second wife were as follows: Footy, Embrus,
Caleb, Mitchell, Cuffey and Jacob, and of the girls, Catherine and
Retta.

SAND HILL DAYS.

Col. M.R. Singleton was like many other rich slave owners in the South,
who had summer seats four, six or eight miles from the plantation, where
they carried the little negro boys and girls too small to work.

Our summer seat, or the sand hill, as the slaves used to call it, was
four miles from the plantation. Among the four hundred and sixty-five
slaves owned by the colonel there were a great many children. If my
readers had visited Col. Singleton's plantation the last of May or the
first of June in the days of slavery, they would have seen three or four
large plantation wagons loaded with little negroes of both sexes, of
various complexions and conditions, who were being carried to this
summer residence, and among them they would have found the author of
this little work in his sand-hill days.

My readers would naturally ask how many seasons these children were
taken to the summer seats? I answer, until, in the judgment of the
overseer, they were large enough to work; then they were kept at the
plantation. How were they fed? There were three or four women who were
too old to work on the plantation who were sent as nurses to the summer
seats with the children; they did the cooking. The way in which these
old women cooked for 80, and sometimes 150 children, in my sand-hill
days, was this:--they had two or three large pots, which held about a
bushel each, in which they used to cook corn flour, stirred with large
wooden paddles. The food was dealt out with the paddles into each
child's little wooden tray or tin pail, which was furnished by the
parents according to their ability.

With this corn flour, which the slaves called mush, each child used to
get a gill of sour milk brought daily from the plantation in a large
wooden pail on the head of a boy or man. We children used to like the
sour milk, or hard clabber as it was called by the slaves; but that
seldom changed diet, namely the mush, was hated worse than medicine. Our
hatred was increased against the mush from the fact that they used to
give us molasses to eat with it, instead of clabber. The hateful mixture
made us anxious for Sundays to come, when our mothers, fathers, sisters
and brothers would bring something from the plantation, which, however
poor, we considered very nice, compared with what we had during the week
days. Among the many desirable things our parents brought us the most
delightful was cow pease, rice, and a piece of bacon, cooked together;
the mixture was called by the slaves "hopping John."

THE STORY OF GILBERT.

A few large boys were sent yearly to the sand-hill among the smaller
ones, as guides. At the time to which I am referring there was one by
the name of Gilbert, who used to go around with the smaller boys in the
woods to gather bushes and sticks for the old women to cook our food
with.

Gilbert was a cruel boy. He used to strip his little fellow negroes
while in the woods, and whip them two or three times a week, so that
their backs were all scarred, and threatened them with severer
punishment if they told; this state of things had been going on for
quite a while. As I was a favorite with Gilbert, I always had managed to
escape a whipping, with the promise of keeping the secret of the
punishment of the rest, which I did, not so much that I was afraid of
Gilbert, as because I always was inclined to mind my own business. But
finally, one day, Gilbert said to me, "Jake," as he used to call me,
"you am a good boy, but I'm gwine to wip you some to-day, as I wip dem
toder boys." Of course I was required to strip off my only garment,
which was an Osnaburg linen shirt, worn by both sexes of the negro
children in the summer. As I stood trembling before my merciless
superior, who had a switch in his hand, thousands of thoughts went
through my little mind as to how to get rid of the whipping. I finally
fell upon a plan which I hoped would save me from a punishment that was
near at hand. There were some carpenters in the woods, some distance
from us, hewing timber; they were far away, but it was a clear morning,
so we could hear their voices and the sound of the axes. Having resolved
in my mind what I would do. I commenced reluctantly to take off my
shirt, at the same time pleading with Gilbert, who paid no attention to
my prayer, but said, "Jake, I is gwine to wip you to-day as I did dem
toder boys." Having satisfied myself that no mercy was to be found with
Gilbert, I drew my shirt off and threw it over his head, and bounded
forward on a run in the direction of the sound of the carpenters. By the
time he got from the entanglement of my garment, I had quite a little
start of him. Between my starting point and the place where the
carpenters were at work I jumped over some bushes five or six feet high.
Gilbert soon gained upon me, and sometimes touched me with his hands,
but as I had on nothing for him to hold to, he could not take hold of
me. As I began to come in sight of the carpenters, Gilbert begged me not
to go to them, for he knew that it would be bad for him, but as that was
not a time for me to listen to his entreaties, I moved on faster. As I
got near to the carpenters, one of them ran and met me, into whose arms
I jumped. The man into whose arms I ran was Uncle Benjamin, my mother's
uncle. As he clasped me in his arms, he said, "Bres de Lo, my son, wat
is de matter?" But I was so exhausted that it was quite a while before I
could tell him my trouble; when recovered from my breathless condition,
I told him that Gilbert had been in the habit of stripping the boys and
whipping them two or three times a week, when we went into the woods,
and threatened them with greater punishment if they told. I said he had
never whipped me before, but I was cautioned to keep the secret, which I
had done up to this time; but he said he was going to whip me this
morning, so I threw my shirt over his head and ran here for protection.
Gilbert did not follow me after I got in sight of the carpenters, but
sneaked away. Of course my body was all bruised and scratched by the
bushes. Acting as a guide for Uncle Benjamin, I took him to where I had
left my garment.

At this time the children were scattered around in the woods, waiting
for what the trouble would bring; They all were gathered up and taken to
the sand-hill house, examined, and it was found, as I have stated, that
their backs were all scarred. Gilbert was brought to trial, severely
whipped, and they made him beg all the children to pardon him for his
treatment to them. But he never was allowed to go into the woods with
the rest of the children during that season. My sand-hill associates
always thanked me for the course I took, which saved them and myself
from further punishment by him.

MASTER AND MISTRESS VISITING.

When master and mistress were to visit their little negroes at the
sand-hill, the news was either brought by the overseer who resided at
the above named place, and went back and forth to the plantation, or by
one of master's house servants, a day ahead. The preparation required to
receive our white guests was that each little negro was to be washed,
and clad in the best dress he or she had. But before this was done, the
unsuccessful attempt was made to straighten out our unruly wools with
some small cards, or Jim-Crows as we called them.

On one occasion an old lady, by the name of Janney Cuteron, attempted to
straighten out my wool with one of those Jim-crows; as she hitched the
teeth of the instrument in my unyielding wool with her great masculine
hand, of course I was jerked flat on my back. This was the common fate
of most of my associates, whose wools were of the same nature, but with
a little water and the strong application of the Jim-crow, the old lady
soon combed out my wool into some sort of shape.

As our preparations were generally completed three-quarters of an hour
before our guests came, we were placed in line, the boys together and
the girls by themselves. We were then drilled in the art of addressing
our expected visitors. The boys were required to bend the body forward
with head down, and rest the body on the left foot, and scrape the
right foot backward on the ground, while uttering the words, "how dy
Massie and Missie." The girls were required to use the same words,
accompanied with a courtesy. But when Master and Mistress had left, the
little African wools were neglected until the news of their next visit.

Our sand-hill days were very pleasant, outside of the seldom changed
diet, namely the mush, which we had sometimes to eat with molasses, the
treatment of Gilbert, and the attempt to straighten out our unruly
wools.

I said that my father was brought from Africa when but a boy, and was
sold to old Col. Dick Singleton; and when the children were of age, the
Colonel divided his plantations among them, and father fell to Col. M.K.
Singleton, who was the second son.

On this large plantation there were 465 slaves; there were not so many
when it was given to Col. M.R., but increased to the above stated
number, up to the time of emancipation.

My father was not a field hand; my first recollection of him was that he
used to take care of hogs and cows in the swamp, and when too old for
that work he was sent to the plantation to take care of horses and
mules, as master had a great many for the use of his farm.

I have stated that father said that his father's name in Africa was
Moncoso, and his mother's Mongomo, but I never learned what name he went
by before he was brought to this country. I only know that he stated
that Col. Dick Singleton gave him the name of William, by which he was
known up to the day of his death. Father had a surname, Stroyer, which
he could not use in public, as the surname Stroyer would be against the
law; he was known only by the name of William Singleton, because that
was his master's name. So the title Stroyer was forbidden him, and could
be used only by his children after the emancipation of the slaves.

There were two reasons given by the slave holders why they did not allow
a slave to use his own name, but rather that of the master. The first
was that, if he ran away, he would not be so easily detected by using
his own name as by that of his master. The second was that to allow him
to use his own name would be sharing an honor which was due only to his
master, and that would be too much for a negro, said they, who was
nothing more than a servant. So it was held as a crime for a slave to be
caught using his own name, a crime which would expose him to severe
punishment. But thanks be to God that those days have passed, and we now
live under the sun of liberty.

MOTHER.

Mother's name was Chloe. She belonged to Col. M.R. Singleton too; she
was a field hand, and never was sold, but her parents were once.

Mr. Crough who, as I have said had owned this plantation on which mother
lived, had sold the plantation to Col. Dick Singleton, with mother's
parents on it, before she was born.

Most of the family from which mother came, had trades of some kind; some
were carpenters, some were blacksmiths, some house servants, and others
were made drivers over the other negroes. Of course the negro drivers
would be under a white man, who was called the overseer. Sometimes the
negro drivers were a great deal worse to their fellow negroes than were
the white men.

Mother had an uncle by the name of Esau, whom master thought more of
than he did of the overseer. Uncle Esau was more cruel than was any
white man master ever had on his plantation. Many of the slaves used to
run away from him into the woods. I have known some of the negroes to
run away from the cruel treatment of Uncle Esau, and to stay off eight
or ten months. They were so afraid of him that they used to say that
they would rather see the devil than to see him; they were glad when he
died. But while so much was said of Uncle Esau, which was also true of
many other negro drivers, the overseers themselves were not guiltless of
cruelty to the defenceless slaves.

I have said that most of the family from which mother came had trades of
some kind; but she had to take her chance in the field with those who
had to weather the storm. But my readers are not to think that those
whom I have spoken of as having trades were free from punishment, for
they were not; some of them had more trouble than had the field hands.
At times the overseer, who was a white man, would go to the shop of the
blacksmith, or carpenter, and would pick a quarrel with him, so as to
get an opportunity to punish him. He would say to the negro, "Oh, ye
think yourself as good as ye master, ye--" Of course he knew what the
overseer was after, so he was afraid to speak; the overseer, hearing no
answer, would turn to him and cry out, "ye so big ye can't speak to me,
ye--," and then the conflict would begin, and he would give that man
such a punishment as would disable him for two or three months. The
merciless overseer would say to him, "Ye think because ye have a trade
ye are as good as ye master, ye--; but I will show ye that ye are
nothing but a nigger."

I said that my father had two wives and fifteen children: four boys and
three girls by the first, and six boys and two girls by the second wife.
Of course he did not marry his wives as they do now, as it was not
allowed among the slaves, but he took them as his wives by mutual
agreement. He had my mother after the death of his first wife. I am the
third son of his second wife.

My readers would very naturally like to know whether some of the slaves
did not have more than one woman. I answer, they had; for as they had no
law to bind them to one woman, they could have as many as they pleased
by mutual agreement. But notwithstanding, they had a sense of the moral
law, for many of them felt that it was right to have but one woman; they
had different opinions about plurality of wives, as have the most
educated and refined among the whites.

I met one of my fellow negroes one day, who lived next neighbor to us,
and I said to him, "Well, Uncle William, how are you, to-day?" His
answer was "Thank God, my son, I have two wives now, and must try and
make out with them until I get some more." But while you will find many
like him, others would rebuke the idea of having more than one wife.
But, thanks be to God, the day has come when no one need to plead
ignorance, for master and servant are both bound by the same law.

I did not go to the sand-hill, or summer seat, my alloted time, but
stopped on the plantation with father, as I said that he used to take
care of horses and mules. I was around with him in the barn yard when
but a very small boy; of course that gave me an early relish for the
occupation of hostler, and I soon made known my preference to Col.
Singleton, who was a sportsman, and an owner of fine horses. And,
although I was too small to work, the Colonel granted my request; hence
I was allowed to be numbered among those who took care of the fine
horses, and learned to ride. But I soon found that my new occupation
demanded a little more than I cared for.

It was not long after I had entered my new work before they put me upon
the back of a horse which threw me to the ground almost as soon as I had
reached his back. It hurt me a little, but that was not the worst of it,
for when I got up there was a man standing near with a switch, in hand,
and he immediately began to beat me. Although I was a very bad boy, this
was the first time I had been whipped by any one except father and
mother, so I cried out in a tone of voice as if I would say, this is the
first and last whipping you will give me when father gets hold of you.

When I had got away from him I ran to father with all my might, but soon
found my expectation blasted, as father very coolly said to me, "Go back
to your work and be a good boy, for I cannot do anything for you." But
that did not satisfy me, so on I went to mother with my complaint and
she came out to the man who had whipped me; he was a groom, a white man
master had hired to train the horses. Mother and he began to talk, then
he took a whip and started for her, and she ran from him, talking all
the time. I ran back and forth between mother and him until he stopped
beating her. After the fight between the groom and mother, he took me
back to the stable yard and gave me a severe flogging. And, although
mother failed to help me at first, still I had faith that when he had
taken me back to the stable yard, and commenced whipping me, she would
come and stop him, but I looked in vain, for she did not come.

Then the idea first came to me that I, with my dear father and mother
and the rest of my fellow negroes, was doomed to cruel treatment through
life, and was defenceless. But when I found that father and mother could
not save me from punishment, as they themselves had to submit to the
same treatment, I concluded to appeal to the sympathy of the groom, who
seemed to have full control over me; but my pitiful cries never touched
his sympathy, for things seemed to grow worse rather than better; so I
made up my mind to stem the storm the best I could.

I have said that Col. Singleton had fine horses, which he kept for
racing, and he owned two very noted ones, named Capt. Miner and
Inspector. Perhaps some of my readers have already heard of Capt. Miner,
for he was widely known, having won many races in Charlestown and
Columbia, S.C., also in Augusta, Ga., and New York. He was a dark bay,
with short tail. Inspector was a chestnut sorrel, and had the reputation
of being a very great horse. These two horses have won many thousand
dollars for the the colonel. I rode these two horses a great many times
in their practice gallops, but never had the opportunity to ride them
in a race before Col. Singleton died, for he did not live long after I
had learned so that I could ride for money. The custom was, that when a
boy had learned the trade of a rider, he would have to ride what was
known as a trial, in the presence of a judge, who would approve or
disapprove his qualifications to be admitted as a race rider, according
to the jockey laws of South Carolina at that time.

I have said that I loved the business and acquired the skill very early,
and this enabled me to pass my examination creditably, and to be
accepted as a capable rider, but I passed through some very severe
treatment before reaching that point.

This white man who trained horses for Col. Singleton was named Boney
Young; he had a brother named Charles, who trained for the colonel's
brother, John Singleton. Charles was a good man, but Boney our trainer,
was as mean as Charles was good; he could smile in the face of one who
was suffering the most painful death at his hands.

One day, about two weeks after Boney Young and mother had the conflict,
he called me to him, as though he were in the pleasantest mood; he was
singing. I ran to him as if to say by action, I will do anything you bid
me, willingly. When I got to him he said, "Go and bring me a switch,
sir." I answered, "yes, sir," and off I went and brought him one; then
he said, "come in here, sir;" I answered, "yes, sir;" and I went into a
horse's stall, but while I was going in a thousand thoughts passed
through my mind as to what he wanted me to go into the stall for, but
when I had got in I soon learned, for he gave me a first-class
flogging.

A day or to after that he called me in the same way, and I went again,
and he sent me for a switch. I brought him a short stubble that was worn
out, which he took and beat me on the head with. Then he said to me, "Go
and bring me a switch, sir;" I answered "Yes, sir;" and off I went the
second time, and brought him one very little better than the first; he
broke that over my head also, saying, "Go and bring me a switch, sir;" I
answered, "Yes, sir," and off I went the third time, and brought one
which I supposed would suit him. Then he said to me, "Come in here,
sir." I answered, "Yes, sir." When I went into the stall, he told me to
lie down, and I stooped down; he kicked me around for a while, then,
making me lie on my face, he whipped me to his satisfaction.

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