Isaiah Butler
From:
South Carolina
Project #-1655
Phoebe Faucette
Hampton County
ISAIAH [~HW: Solbert (?)~] BUTLER, EX-SLAVE 79 YEARS
[~HW: See Ms. #~]
"Yes, dis is Isaiah Butler, piece of him. Ain't much left of him now.
Yes, I knows all 'bout dis heah country from way back. I was born and
raised right on dis same place here; lived here all my life 'sides from
travellin' round a little space. Dere was a rice field not far from dis
house here, where I plowed up more posts that had been used as
landmarks! Dis place was de Bostick place, and it jined to de Thomson
place, and de Thomson place to Edmund Martin's place dat was turned over
to Joe Lawton, his son-in-law. Bill Daniel had charge of de rice field I
was telling you 'bout. He was overseer, on de Daniel Blake place. Den
dere was de Maner place, de Trowell, de Kelly, and de Wallace places.
Back in dem times dey cultivated rice. Had mules to cultivate it! But
cotton and corn was what dey planted most of all; 4,000 acres I think
dey tell me was on dis place. I know it supposed to be more than ten
miles square. Nobody know de landmarks 'cept me. When de Bostick boys
came back from out west last year, dey had to come to me to find out
where dere place was. Dey didn't know nuttin' 'bout it. Dey used to use
twenty plow, and de hoe hands was over a hundred, I know.
"I 'member when de Yankees come through. I was no more'n a lad, nine or
ten years old. Bostick had a big gin-house, barn, stables, and such
like. And when de soldiers come a goat was up on de platform in front of
de door to de loft of de barn. Dere were some steps leadin' up dere and
dat goat would walk up dem steps same as any body. De fuss thing de
Yankees do, dey shoot dat goat. Den day start and tear up eberyt'ing.
All de white folks had refugeed up North, and dey didn't do nuttin' to
us niggers.
"Fore dat time I was jes' a little boy too young to do nuttin'. Jes'
played aroun' in de street. Ole Mr. Ben Bostick used to bring clothes
an' shoes to us and see dat we was well cared for. Dere was nineteen
houses in de street for us colored folks. Dey wuz all left by de
soldiers. But in de year 1882 dere come a cyclone (some folks call it a
tornado), and knocked down every house; only left four standing. Pieces
of clothes and t'ings were carried for four or five miles from here. It
left our house; but it took everyt'ing we had. It took de walls of de
house, jes' left de floorin', an' it wus turn 'round. Took everyt'ing!
I'd jes' been married 'bout a year, and you know how dat is. We jes' had
to scuffle and scuffle 'roun' till de Lord bless us.
"Dere wuz plenty of deer, squirrel, possum, an' rabbits in dem times; no
more dan dere is now, but dere wuz no hinderance den as now. De deer
come right up to my door now; dey come all 'roun' dis house, and we
cain't do nuttin'. De other day one wuz over dere by dat peachtree, an'
not long ago four of 'em come walkin' right through dis yard. I don't go
fishin' no more. Folks say de streams is all dried up. But I used to be
a good fisherman, me an' me ole woman. She's spryer'n me now. I used to
allus protect her when we wuz young, an' now its her dat's acarin' for
me. We had our gardens in de ole days, too. Oh, yes'm. Little patches of
collards, greens an' t'ings, but now I ain't able to do nuttin', jes'
hang 'roun' de place here.
"My father used to belong to General Butler, Dennis Butler was his name.
My mother was a Maner, but originally she wuz draw out of de Robert
estate. Ole Ben Bostick fuss wife wuz a Robert. Dey wuz sure wealthy
folks. One of 'em went off to sail. Bill F. Robert wuz his name. He had
so much money dat he say dat he goin' to de end of de world. He come
back an' he say he went so close hell de heat draw de pitch from de
vessel. But he lost his eyesight by it. Wa'n't (it was not) long after
he got back dat he went stone blind.
"My ole boss, preacher Joe Bostick wuz one of de best of men. He wuz
hard of hearin' like I is, an' a good ole man. But de ole lady, ole
"Miss Jenny", she wuz very rough. She hired all de overseers, and she do
all. If'n anybody try to go to de old man wid anyt'ing, she'd talk to
'em herself an' not let 'em see de old man.
"In slavery time de slaves wuz waked up every morning by de colored
over-driver blowin' a horn. Ole man Jake Chisolm wuz his name. Jes' at
daybreak, he'd put his horn through a crack in de upper part of de wall
to his house an' blow it through dat crack. Den de under-driver would go
out an' round 'em up. When dey done all dey day-work, dey come home an'
cook dey supper, an' wash up. Den dey blow de horn for 'em to go to bed.
Sometime dey have to out de fire an' finish dey supper in de dark. De
under-driver, he'd go out den and see who ain't go to bed. He wouldn't
say anyt'ing den; but next mornin' he'd report it to de overseer, an'
dem as hadn't gone to bed would be whipped.
"My mother used to tell me dat if any didn't do dey day's work, dey'd be
put in de stocks or de bill-bo. You know each wuz given a certain task
dat had to be finish dat day. Dat what dey call de day-work. When dey
put 'em in de stocks dey tie 'em hand and foot to a stick. Dey could lie
down wid dat. I hear of colored folks doin' dat now to dare chillun when
dey don't do. Now de bill-bo wuz a stabe (stave) drove in de ground, an'
dey tied dere hands and den dere feet to dat, standin' up. Dey'd work on
Saturday but dey wuz give Sundays. Rations wuz give out on Mondays.
Edmund Lawton went over to Louisiana to work on de Catherine Goride
place, but he come back, 'cause he say dey blow dey horn for work on
Sunday same as any other day, and he say he wa'n't goin' to work on no
Sunday. Dey didn't have a jail in dem times. Dey'd whip 'em, and dey'd
sell 'em. Every slave know what, 'I'll put you in my pocket, sir!' mean.
"De slaves would walk when dey'd go anywhere. If'n dey buy a bunch of
slaves in New Orleans, dey'd walk by night and day. I 'member when one
young girl come back from refugin' wid de white folks, her feet were
jes' ready to buss open, and dat wuz all. You couldn't travel unless de
boss give you a pass. De Ku Klan had "patrol" all about in de bushes by
de side of de road at night. And when dey caught you dey'd whip you
almost to death! Dey'd horsewhip you. Dey didn't run away nowhere 'cause
dey knowed dey couldn't.
"If'n you wanted to send any news to anybody on another plantation, de
overseer'd write de message for you and send it by a boy to de overseer
of de other plantation, and he'd read it to de one you wrote to.
"When de war wuz over, ole man Jones cone over frum Georgia and sell
t'ings to de colored folks. He'd sell 'em everyt'ing. He took all de
colored folks' money!
"I learned to read when I wuz goin' to school when I wuz about fifteen
years old, but I learned most I know after I wuz married, at night
school, over on de Morrison place. De colored folks had de school, but
'course Mr. Morrison was delighted to know dey wuz havin' it. As for
church, in de olden times, people used to, more or less, attend under de
bush-arbor. In 1875 when I jined de church, ole man John Butler wuz de
preacher.
"Ghosts? I'se met plenty of um! When I wuz courtin' I met many a
one--One got me in de water, once. And another time when I wuz crossing
a stream, I wuz on de butt end of de log, an' dey wuz on de blossom end,
an' we meet jes' as close as I is to you now. I say to him, same as to
anybody, 'I sure ain't goin' to turn back, and fall off dis log. Now de
best t'ing for you to do is to turn 'round and let me come atter (after)
you. You jes' got to talk to 'em same as to anybody. It don't pay to be
'fraid of 'em. So he wheel 'round. (Spirits can wheel, you know.) And
when he get to de end of de log, I say, 'Now you off and I off. You kin
go on 'cross now.' Dey sure is a t'ing, all right! Dey look jes' like
anybody else, 'cept'n it's jes' cloudy and misty like it goin' to pour
down rain. But it don't do to be 'fraid of 'em. I ain't 'fraid of
nuttin', myself. I never see 'em no more. Guess I jes' sorta out-growed
'em. But dere sure is sech a t'ing, all right! De white folks'd see 'em,
too. I 'member hearin' ole Joe Bostick, de preacher, say to a man, by de
name of Tinlin, 'Did you hear dat hog barkin' last night? Well, de
spirit come right in de house. Come right up over de mantlepiece.' I wuz
in de field workin' same as I allus done, and I hear'd ole Joe horse a
snortin'. Ole Joe didn't want nuttin'. He jes' want to see what I wuz
doin'.
"Abraham Lincoln done all he could for de colored folks. But dey cain't
none of 'em do nuttin' without de Lord."
Source: Isaiah Butler, Garnett, S. C.
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Solbert Butler
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George Ann Butler
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