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John C Brown




From: South Carolina

Project #1655
W. W. Dixon,
Winnsboro, S. C.

JOHN C. BROWN AND ADELINE BROWN
EX-SLAVES 86 YEARS AND 96 YEARS OLD.


John C. Brown and his wife, Adeline, who is eleven years older than
himself, live in a ramshackle four-room frame house in the midst of a
cotton field, six miles west of Woodward, S. C. John assisted in laying
the foundation and building the house forty-four years ago. A single
china-berry tree, gnarled but stately, adds to, rather than detracts
from, the loneliness of the dilapidated house. The premises and
thereabout are owned by the Federal Land Bank. The occupants pay no
rent. Neither of them are able to work. They have been fed by charity
and the W. P. A. for the past eighteen months.

(John talking)

"Where and when I born? Well, dat'll take some 'hear say', Mister. I
never knowed my mammy. They say she was a white lady dat visited my old
marster and mistress. Dat I was found in a basket, dressed in nice baby
clothes, on de railroad track at Dawkins, S. C. De engineer stop de
train, got out, and found me sumpin' like de princess found Moses, but
not in de bulrushes. Him turn me over to de conductor. De conductor
carry me to de station at Dawkins, where Marse Tom Dawkins come to meet
de train dat mornin' and claim me as found on his land. Him say him had
de best right to me. De conductor didn't 'ject to dat. Marse Tom carry
me home and give me to Miss Betsy. Dat was his wife and my mistress. Her
always say dat Sheton Brown was my father. He was one of de slaves on de
place; de carriage driver. After freedom he tell me he was my real
pappy. Him took de name of Brown and dat's what I go by.

"My father was a ginger-bread colored man, not a full-blooded nigger.
Dat's how I is altogether yallow. See dat lady over dere in dat chair?
Dat's my wife. Her brighter skinned than I is. How come dat? Her daddy
was a full-blooded Irishman. He come over here from Ireland and was
overseer for Marse Bob Clowney. He took a fancy for Adeline's mammy, a
bright 'latto gal slave on de place. White women in them days looked
down on overseers as poor white trash. Him couldn't git a white wife but
made de best of it by puttin' in his spare time a honeyin' 'round
Adeline's mammy. Marse Bob stuck to him, and never 'jected to it.

"When de war come on, Marse Richard, de overseer, shoulder his gun as a
soldier and, as him was educated more than most of de white folks, him
rise to be captain in de Confederate Army. It's a pity him got kilt in
dat war.

"My marster, Tom Dawkins, have a fine mansion. He owned all de land
'round Dawkins and had 'bout 200 slaves, dat lived in good houses and
was we well fed. My pappy was de man dat run de mill and grind de wheat
and corn into flour and meal. Him never work in de field. He was 'bove
dat. Him 'tend to de ginnin' of de cotton and drive de carriage.

"De Yankees come and burn de mansion, de gin-house and de mill. They
take all de sheep, mules, cows, hogs and even de chickens. Set de slaves
free and us niggers have a hard time ever since.

"My black stepmammy was so mean to me dat I run away. I didn't know
where to go but landed up, one night, at Adeline's mammy's and
steppappy's house, on Marse Bob Clowney's place. They had been slaves of
Marse Bob and was livin' and workin' for him. I knock on de door. Mammy
Charity, dat's Adeline's mammy, say: 'Who dat?' I say: 'Me'. Her say:
'Who is me?' I say: 'John'. Her say: 'John who?' I say: 'Just John'. Her
say: 'Adeline, open de door, dat's just some poor boy dat's cold and
hungry. Charity is my fust name. Your pappy ain't come yet but I'll let
dat boy in 'til he come and see what he can do 'bout it.'

"When Adeline open dat door, I look her in de eyes. Her eyes melt
towards me wid a look I never see befo' nor since. Mind you, I was just
a boy fourteen, I 'spects, and her a woman twenty-five then. Her say:
'You darlin' little fellow; come right in to de fire.' Oh, my! She took
on over me! Us wait 'til her pappy come in. Then him say: 'What us gonna
do wid him?' Adeline say: 'Us gonna keep him.' Pappy say: 'Where he
gonna sleep?' Adeline look funny. Mammy say: 'Us'll fix him a pallet by
de fire.' Adeline clap her hands and say: 'You don't mind dat, does you
boy?' I say: 'No ma'am, I is slept dat way many a time.'

"Well, I work for Marse Bob Clowney and stayed wid Adeline's folks two
years. I sure made myself useful in dat family. Never 'spicioned what
Adeline had in her head, 'til one day I climbed up a hickory nut tree,
flail de nuts down, come down and was helpin' to pick them up when she
bump her head 'ginst mine and say: 'Oh, Lordy!' Then I pat and rub her
head and it come over me what was in dat head! Us went to de house and
her told de folks dat us gwine to marry.

"Her led me to de altar dat nex' Sunday. Gived her name to de preacher
as Adeline Cabean. I give de name of John Clowney Brown. Marse Bob was
dere and laugh when de preacher call my name, 'John Clowney Brown'.

"Our chillun come pretty fast. I was workin' for $45.00 a year, wid
rations. Us had three pounds of bacon, a peck of meal, two cups of
flour, one quart of 'lasses, and one cup of salt, a week.

"Us never left Marse Robert as long as him lived. When us have four
chillun, him increase de amount of flour to four cups and de 'lasses to
two quarts. Then him built dis house for de old folks and Adeline and de
chillun to live in. I help to build it forty-four years ago. Our chillun
was Clarice, Jim, John, Charity, Tom, Richard, and Adeline.

"I followed Marse Robert Clowney in politics, wore a red shirt, and
voted for him to go to de Legislature. Him was 'lected dat time but
never cared for it no more.

"Adeline b'long to de church. Always after me to jine but I can't
believe dere is anything to it, though I believes in de law and de Ten
Commandments. Preacher calls me a infidel. Can't help it. They is maybe
got me figured out wrong. I believes in a Great Spirit but, in my time,
I is seen so many good dogs and hosses and so many mean niggers and
white folks, dat I 'clare, I is confused on de subject. Then I can't
believe in a hell and everlastin' brimstone. I just think dat people is
lak grains of corn: dere is some good grains and some rotten grains. De
good grains is res'rected, de rotten grains never sprout again. Good
people come up again and flourish in de green fields of Eden. Bad people
no come up. Deir bodies and bones just make phosphate guano, 'round de
roots of de ever bloomin' tree of life. They lie so much in dis world,
maybe de Lord will just make 'lie' soap out of them. What you think else
they would be fit for?"




Next: Mary Frances Brown

Previous: Henry Brown



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