One of the most typical settlements is opposite the Todd Grant Negro School. A few houses are clustered about the knoll facing the school building, and more dilapidated board shacks are scattered over the little hill. At the top is Aunty Jane Lewis' cabin, surrounded by small sheds and fenced patches of ground where chickens and goats are kept from wandering too far. At the north a few cypress trees straggle off to the wood. A sturdy bush provides the sunny drying ground for the gourds that later will be used as water dippers.
2Aunty Jane claims that she is one hundred and fifteen years old, and to see the small bent woman with the deeply lined black skin and filmy eyes is to believe her claim. Her voice is high pitched, with the thin timbre of extreme age, but she still moves with sudden agile gestures. During our conversation she hopped up from the steps and began to do the Buzzard Lope to illustrate her story.
2aI belong tuh Robert Toodle wut lib in Nawt Calina an he sole me down yuh wen Ise twenty-one. I ain membuh much bout Nawt Calina but uh membuhs plenty bout duh ole days yuh, cuz I bin yuh neah bout a hunnud yeahs. I belongs tuh Huger Barrett an Ise one uh duh bes fiel hans on Picayune Plantation.
We interrupted the old woman's reminiscences about plantation days to question her about funeral customs.
2bWe didn alluz hab too much time fuh big fewnul in dem days cuz deah wuz wuk tuh be done an ef yuh ain do yuh wuk, yuh git whipped. Lots uh time dey jis dig a hole in duh groun in put duh body in it, but wenebuh we kin, we hab a settin-up.
We asked Aunty Jane if they used to provide plenty of food for the mourners.
2cYes'm, dey sho did hab regluh feastes in dem days, but tuhday, at mos settin-ups, yuh dohn git nuttn but coffee an bread. Den dey would cook a regluh meal an dey would kill a chicken front uh duh doe, wring he neck an cook um fuh duh feas. Den wen we all finish, we take wut victuals lef an put it in a dish by duh chimley an das fuh duh sperrit tuh hab a las good meal. We cubbuh up duh dish and deah's many a time Ise heah dat sperrit lif um. We ain preach duh suhmon wen we bury um but we waits a wile so's all duh relations kin come.
Is it bad luck to steal from a grave? we wanted to know.
2dBad luck?, repeated Aunty Jane. Sho it bad luck. Dem dishes an bottles wut put on duh grabe is fuh duh sperrit an it ain fuh nobody tuh tech um. Das fuh duh sperrit tuh feel at home. Wen he die fah off, we bring um home tuh bury um, dohn leh no strainjuh be bury wid um. Yuh gib people wut ain belong tuh yuh anudduh piece uh duh groun tuh be bury in. We alluz hab two fewnul fuh duh pusson. We hab duh regluh fewnul wen yuh die. Den once a yeah we had one big preachin fuh ebrybody wut die dat yeah.
Aunty Jane looked up slyly when we asked her if she believed in conjure.
2eI ain belieb in um muhsef but deah's plenty wut do. Ise had Ellen Hammond libin wid me. She die las yeah. She sho wuz alluz fixin cunjuh. She tie up ebryting in sacks. She git a lill foot track dus, a lill haiah combins, and nail parin, an she tie um up wid a lill rag. Cose, I dohn belieb in dis an wen she die, I bun um. Ef yuh hab any trouble wid snakes, yuh ketch um an bun um wid duh trash. Den all duh whole kingdom uh snakes will leab yuh lone.
We next questioned Aunty Jane about signs.
2fYes'm, I knows plenty uh signs but my head so full uhrum I dont know wich tuh tell yuh. Some ub em I beliebs an some ub um I ain belieb. Wen yuh go on a journey an yuh hattah tun back, yuh make a cross mahk on duh dut an spit on it, an it sho bad luck tuh bring a hoe in duh house.
The subject of drums was then brought up.
2gI ain heah um beat duh drums in my chuch, Aunty Jane said. But I sho is heah plenty uh drum beat. We use tuh alluz dance tuh duh drums. We dance roun in a succle an we hab drum an we hab goad rattle an we beat tin pan tuhgedduh. Some time dey hab sto-bought drum, but Alex Harris, he muh son, he make um. He lib up duh ribbuh.
Aunty Jane gave us a description of how the drums were made.
2hYuh kill a coon an yuh skin um an yuh tack duh skin up side duh house tuh dry an yuh stretch um good till um tight an smood. Den yuh stretch um obuh duh en ub a holluh tree trunk. Sometime dey is big drum wut stan as high as dis. She raised her hand about three feet from the ground.
We asked Aunty Jane what trees they used. Did they use oak?
2iNo, ma'am, it ain good tuh use oak ef yuh kin hep it. It too hahd. Yuh take a good cypress aw ceduh wut eat out on duh inside an yuh take um an scoop um out an stretch duh skin obuh duh ens. Sometime yuh kin fine a holly wut'll do. Alex he make drum up tuh two yeah ago an we sho hab big time doin duh dances wile dey beat duh drums. Wenebuh we happy aw wannuh celebrate, we dance. At this point Aunty Jane rose to give us an exhibition of two dances, the Buzzard Lope and the Snake Hip.
Across the highway from Aunty Jane's settlement, about one mile north of Darien, back of a turpentine still, is an irregular settlement of small houses, most of which are enclosed by high dilapidated paling fences. Here 3Wallace Quarterman occupied a cabin with his daughter Abby Gibson.
Wallace was old but with a clear mind, and he enjoyed a high standing in his community. We felt that he would know about the old beliefs and customs.
We left the highway on a narrow dirt road, little more than a path through the bush, and after much winding in and out we came upon a street of Negro cabins with their enclosed yards, vegetable patches, and tumbled down sheds. Wallace was sitting on the porch of Abby's house. Lizzie Sanders volunteered to be our guide and paid a visit to Wallace along with us.
We asked him how old he was and where he was born.
3aIse bawn July 14, 1844. Now figguh dat out fuh yuhsef missus. Ise bawn at Sout Hampton, Libuty County, an I belong tuh Roswell King, but he done die long bout sometime in duh fifties and Ise sole fuh debt tuh Cunl Fred Waring on Skidaway Ilun. Ise bin bout fifteen wen I sen tuh Skidaway.
For a long time we had wanted to established some connection with Skidaway Island that reached back before the War between the States. We questioned Wallace about the church on Skidaway.
3bWe sho did hab big time goin tuh chuch in doze days. Not many uh deze Nigguhs kin shout tuhday duh way us could den. Yuh needs a drum fuh shoutin.
We asked if they shouted to a drum then.
3cWe sho did. We beat a drum at duh chuch an we beat a drum on duh way tuh duh grabeyahd tuh bury um. We walks in a long line moanin an we beats duh drum all duh way.
We inquired about the making of drums and the kind of drums.
3dWe makes drums out uh sheep hide but we gottuh dry um an stretch duh skin obuh. Some makes it out uh holluh lawgs wid skin obuh duh en and some ub um is as long as tree feet.
We asked the old man if he remembered any slaves that were real Africans.
3eSho I membuhs lots ub um. Ain I sees plenty ub um? I membuhs one boatload uh seben aw eight wut come down frum Savannah. Dat wuz jis a lill befo duh waw. Robbie McQueen wuz African an Katie an ole man Jacob King, dey's all African. I membuhs um all . Ole man King he lib till he ole, lib till I hep bury um. But yuh caahn unduhstan much wut deze people say. Dey caahn unduhstan yo talk an you caahn unduhstan dey talk. Dey go 'quack, quack, quack,' jis as fas as a hawse kin run, an muh pa say, 'Ain no good tuh lissen tuh um', Dey git long all right but yuh know dey wuz a lot ub um wut ain stay down yuh.
Did he mean the 4Ibos on St. Simons who walked into the water.
3fNo, ma'am, I ain mean dem. Ain yuh heah bout um? Well, at dat time Mr. Blue he wuz duh obuhseeuh an Mr. Blue put um in duh fiel, but he couldn do nuttn wid um. Dey gabble, gabble, gabble, and nobody couldn unduhstan um an dey didn know how tuh wuk right. Mr. Blue he go down one mawnin wid a long whip fuh tuh whip um good.
Mr. Blue was a hard overseer? we asked.
3gNo ma'am, he ain hahd, he jis caahn make um unduhstan. Dey's foolish actin. He got tuh whip um, Mr. Blue, he ain hab no choice. Anyways, he whip um good and dey gits tuhgedduh an stick duh hoe in duh fiel an den say 'quack, quack, quack,' an dey riz up in duh sky an tun hesef intuh buzzuds and fly right back tuh Africa.
At this, we exclaimed and showed our astonishment.
3hWut, you ain heah bout um? Ebrybody know bout um. Dey sho lef duh hoe stannin in duh fiel an dey riz right up and fly right back tuh Africa.
Had Wallace actually seen this happen, we asked.
3iNo, ma'am, I ain seen um. I bin tuh Skidaway, but I knowd plenty wut did see um, plenty wut wuz right deah in duh fiel wid um, an seen duh hoe wut dey lef stickin up attuh dey done fly way.
This story of the flying Africans seemed to be a familiar one, for it was later repeated to us by 5William Rogers, who lived about a mile from Darien on the Cowhorn Road. We had been told that he had been a cabinet maker in his youth and still spent much of his spare time in the carving of a variety of objects. The old man was evidently well known in the vicinity, for upon inquiry neighbors quickly directed us to his house.
Because a short time ago a fire had destroyed Rogers' home and most of his possessions, we found him living in an unfinished cottage which was as yet unpainted except for the bluish-green trimming on all the window facings. In spite of the apparent newness of the house, there was a pleasant homelike atmosphere about it. Proof of Rogers' skill was demonstrated in scroll-work which decorated the porch and in a cupboard and fine square chimney in the dining room which the old man and his wife were building.
Rogers, who was seventy-two years old, was small of stature with copper-colored skin and alert black eyes. His manner was affable and friendly despite the fact that a recently suffered paralytic stroke had partially deprived him of the use of his hands. He told us that his grandmother had been one-quarter Indian. While we were on the subject of Indians, he remembered a rusty part of an old Indian gun which he had found in the vicinity. Displaying this, he explained in detail how the trigger struck a piece of flint, thereby igniting the powder.
We inquired about his wood carving and he showed us some of the wooden figures about which we had been told. One of these, a spoon of cedar, was about a foot in length and had the roughly-sculptured head of a man on its handle. The head was square in shape, the features were only slightly raised, and the eyes were nail heads. Another item was a frog which, with eyes of brass nail heads, crouched on a block of wood. The frog and the stand had been carved from a solid piece of wood and lightly varnished.
As we left, the old man promised us. 5aWen I gits muh hans back intuh use, I hopes tuh cahve a cane wid a gatuh on it lak duh ones I made long ago. Wen I do, I sho sen it tuh yuh.
We had no idea that we would hear from him again, but a few months later he wrote us that he had made a stick especially for us. This proved to be of stout cedar carved with a large alligator and topped with the bust of a Negro man cut all in one with the body of the stick and painted black to signify his race. The smooth, almost square, protruding skull of the figure, its small, high-set ears, broad mouth, blue bead eyes driven in by minute steel nailheads, and little short arms with four-fingered hands are all note-worthy points. The alligator's eyes are also blue beads driven in by nailheads.
After leaving William Rogers, we retraced our way back over the winding dirt roadway into Darien and from the town we drove eastward through a residential section. The houses here were substantial and attractive, surrounded by trim lawns, and the thoroughfare was shaded by old moss-hung trees. After a distance the road narrowed; for a time there were no houses in sight; then we came to the Low Bluff community. Negro cabins dotted the landscape and the settlement terminated at a grassy bluff where stood the last small house.
We were looking for 6Priscilla McCullough and the obliging neighbors directed us to her house. It stood to the left of the roadway, a queer haphazard little dwelling place that looked like something out of a fairy tale. It was a tumble-down house, painted white, its roof patched with pieces of loose roofing which overlapped one another and hung down some distance in the front. An irregular fence made alternately of board and wire surrounded it. The tiny porch was crowded with old pieces of furniture and miscellaneous items, including half of a tattered screen which hung at one side. Near the house a second building leaned at such a precarious angle that it could be expected to tumble over momentarily.
We made our way down the little dirt walk and into the house and there in the center of the room sat Priscilla. She was sewing on a mattress which almost filled the small space. Even the bizarre exterior had not prepared us for the appearance of the inside of the house. Here again there was so much crowded together that it took awhile before separate articles could be clearly seen. Jumbled closely around Priscilla was a mass of furniture, each article of which in turn almost hidden by a burden of clothing, dishes, bottles, pictures, and items too numerous to mention.
Priscilla adjusted her eyeglasses which were tied on with a shoestring and told us something of her early life. She said she had been, 6abawn tree yeah to freedom in Sumtuh, Sout Calina. As quite a young woman she had moved to Georgia but still retained many pleasant recollections of the days of her early youth. She had heard of many African customs and went on to tell us some of these.
6bI heahd many time bout how in Africa wen a girl dohn ack jis lak dey should, dey drum uh out uh town. Dey jis beat duh drum, an call uh name on duh drum and duh drum say bout all duh tings she done. Dey drum an mahch long an take duh girl right out uh town.
6cGirls hab tuh be keahful den. Dey caahn be so trifflin lak some ub em is now. In Africa dey gits punished. Sometime wen dey bin bad, dey put em on duh banjo. Dat wuz in dis country.
This being 'put on duh banjo' was unitelligible to us and we asked for an explanation.
6dWen dey play dat night, dey sing bout dat girl an dey tell all bout uh. Das puttin uh on duh banjo. Den ebrybody know an dat girl sho bettuh change uh ways.
The story of flying Africans was a familiar one to the old woman and she said that her mother had often told her the following incident which was supposed to have taken place on a plantation during slavery times.
6eDuh slabes wuz out in duh fiel wukin. All ub a sudden dey git tuhgedduh an staht tuh moob roun in a ring. Roun dey go fastuhnfastuh. Den one by one dey riz up an take wing an fly lak a bud. Duh obuhseeuh heah duh noise an he come out an he see duh slabes riz up in duh eah an fly back tuh Africa. He run an he ketch duh las one by duh foot jis as he wuz bout tuh fly off. I dohn know ef he wuz neah nuff tuh pull um back down an keep um frum goin off.
As we left, Priscilla accompanied us down the walk to the gateway. She was reluctant to see us go and until the last minute regaled us with a variety of stories.
We had learned that an elderly Negro named 7Lawrence Baker lived out on the Ridge Road near the Ridgeway Club. We followed the road for about two miles and came finally to a signpost directing us to turn right in order to reach the club. This section in former times had been occupied by extensive plantation holdings. Most of these estates had been deserted for years and now and then we saw a house, once evidently charming but now in a dilapidated and crumbling condition.
Through an old gateway to what had once been a prosperous estate we rode past acres now weed grown and neglected. At last we came upon a one story white plantation house. Inside blinds were at all the French windows and the wide floor boards gave indication that the house had probably been standing for about one hundred years.
The man for whom we were looking was plowing in a field at the rear. Baker's rugged build and his keen intellect made it difficult to believe that he was in his late seventies. For years he had acted as caretaker of the club and often lived in the plantation house, as it had been unoccupied for some time.
He had heard of the custom of beating drums to warn people of a recent death. He said, 7aDey use tuh alluz beat duh drum aw blow duh hawn wen somebody die. Dey beat two licks on duh drum, den dey stop, den dey beat tree licks. Wen yuh beat dat, yuh know somebody done die. Lots uh duh drums wuz home-made. Dey wuz made out uh goat skin aw coon skin wut stretch out obuh hoops. Deah wuz tree sizes uh drums. Deah wuz duh big barrel drum. It wuz highuhn it wuz cross. Den deah wuz a lill drum frum twelve tuh fifteen inches wide an bout eighteen inches high. Duh udduh drum wuz duh medium size, kine uh in between duh udduh two. Duh big drum wuz duh one dey beat at duh wake. Dey use drums at dances an meetins, too.
7bWen we hab a fewnul, we all mahch roun duh grabe in a ring. We shout an pray.
We wanted to know if river baptisms were always held during an ebb tide and Lawrence hastened to assure us, 7cYes'm, dey alluz hole duh baptism on high ebb tide. Das so duh tide will carry duh sin out.
Had the old man ever known any people who had been named for the days of the week?
7dI knowd one man name Fridy, one dat wuz name Satdy and anudduh he name wuz Toosdy. Guess dey name um dataway cuz dey wuz bawn on doze days.
Baker told us that many people in the section refused to eat certain foods, believing bad luck would follow if they ate them.
7eDeah's lots dataway now, he commented. Lots uh folks dohn eat some food cuz ef dey did dey say it would bring bad luck on duh parents. Some dohn eat rice, some dohn eat egg, and some dohn eat chicken
7fMuh gran, she Rachel Grant, she use tuh tell me bout lot uh deze tings. I membuh she use tuh pray ebry day at sunrise, at middle day, and den at sunset. She alluz face duh sun an wen she finish prayin she alluz bow tuh duh sun. She tell me bout duh slabes wut could fly too. Ef dey didn lak it on duh plantation, dey jis take wing an fly right back tuh Africa.
7gMuh gran say dey use tuh eat wid oystuh shells. Use um fuh spoons. Wen dey go tuh shoot duh gun, dey ketch duh fyuh wid a rag an flint.
We asked him if he had ever heard of a hoe that worked by itself and he told us that he had often heard this story regarding the hoe and that he had also heard many tales about a magic rail splitting wood without anyone touching it.
Suddenly the quiet of the afternoon was shattered by a high reed-like whistling sound. It continued for quite some time, then stopped as abruptly as it had started. Was it a person or an animal? It was impossible for us to tell.
7hDas a spiduh, missus, Baker explained. It come roun yuh all duh time an wistle jis lak a pusson. I dohn fool wid no spiduh. Dey is bad luck. All duh time dey drop down right out ub a tree.
7iI know deah is spirits an ghos cuz I kin see um. Yuh hab tuh be bawn wid a caul tuh be able tuh see duh spirits.
7jSome uh duh folks is rid so much by witches dat attuh a time dey git tin an po an jis die. Wen a witch come in duh house, it hang up duh skin behine duh doe an ef yuh put salt on duh skin, duh witch caahn put it on agen. Benne seed is bad fuh duh witch too an keep um way.
7kWitches take all kine uh shape. Sometime dey lak animal, sometime lak bud. In Harris Neck deah wuz a big buzzud wut use tuh light on duh fence ebry time dey would be milkin duh cows. Wen duh buzzud would fly off, one uh duh milk buckets would alluz be dry. Dis happen ebry day. Dey would shoot at duh bud but nobody could ebuh hit it. One man he take a dime an he quawtuh it; den he put it in duh gun. Duh nex day wen duh buzzud light, he shoot at it an he hit it in duh wing. It fly off and go down a chimbley ub a house. Wen duh men go in duh house, dey fine a old uhmum wid uh ahm broke. Dey know den she wuz a witch. I know deah wuz some talk bout bunnin uh up, but I dohn tink dey do it.
7lEbry night I sit on dis poach heah. He pointed to the back porch of the white house. I kin see duh spirits goin by. Deah is a whole crowd uh lill wite tings. Dey is goin obuh deah tuh duh spring. Some is lak chillun; some is lak grown folks. Dey jis go cross duh fiel tuh duh mahble steps uh duh ole gahden an down duh steps tuh duh fountn. I ain nebuh bodduh um an dey ain nebuh do me no hahm.
1My people come from Darien.
2Jane Lewis, Darien.
2aI belonged to Robert Toodle who lived in North Carolina and he sold me down here when I was twenty-one. I don't remember much about North Carolina but I remember plenty about the old days here, because I've been here near about one hundred years. I belonged to Huger Barret and I was one of the best field hands on the Picayune Plantation.
2bWe didn't always have too much time for a big funeral in those days because there was work to be done and if you didn't do your work, you got whipped. Lots of the time they just dug a hole in the ground and put the body in it, but whenever we could, we had a setting-up.
2cYes ma'am, they sure did have regular feasts in those days, but today, at most setting-ups, you don't get anything but coffee and bread. Then they would cook a regular meal and they would kill a chicken in front of the door, wring his neck and cook him for the feast. Then when we all finished, we took what victuals we had left and put it in a dish by the chimney and that's for the spirit to have a last good meal. We covered up the dish and there's many a time I heard the spirit lift them. We didn't preach the sermon when we buried them but we waited awhile so that all the relations could come.
2dBad luck? Sure it's bad luck. Them dishes and bottles that are put on the grave is for the spirit and it aint for anybody to touch them. That's for the spirit to feel at home. When he dies far away, we bring him home to bury him, don't let no stranger be buried with him. You give people that aint belong to you another piece of the ground to be buried in. We always have two funerals for the person. We have the regular funeral when you die. Then once a year we have one big preaching for everybody that died that year.
2eI don't believe in them myself but there's plenty that do. I had Ellen Hammond living with me. She died last year. She sure was always fixing conjure. She tied up everything in sacks. She got a little foot track dust, a little hair combings, and nail pairings, and she tied them up with a little rag. Of course I don't believe in this and when she died, I burned them. If you have any trouble with snakes, you catch them and burn them with the trash. Then all the whole kingdom of snakes will leave you alone.
2fYes ma'am, I know plenty of signs but my head is so full of them I don't know which to tell you. Some of them I beleive and some of them I don't believe. When you go on a journey and you have to turn back, you make a cross mark on the dirt and spit on it, and it's sure bad luck to bring a hoe in the house.
2gI havent heard them beat the drums in my church. But I've sure have heard plenty of drum beats. We use to always dance to the drums. We danced around in a circle and we had drums, and we had gourd rattles and we beat tin pans together. Sometimes they have sto-bought drums, but Alex Harris, he's my son, he makes them. He lives up the river.
2hYou kill a coon and you skin him and you take the skin up side the house to dry and you stretch him good until he's tight and smooth. Then you stretch him over the end of a hollow tree trunk. Sometimes they are a big drum that stands as high as this.
2iNo ma'am, it aint good to use oak if you can help it. It's too hard. You take a good cypress or cedar that's eaten out on the inside and you take them and scoop them out and stretch the skin over the ends. Sometimes you can find a holly that'll do. Alex, he makes drums up to two years ago and we sure had a big time doing the dances while they beat the drums. Whenever we are happy and want to celebrate, we dance.
3Wallace Quarterman, Darien. Deceased autumn, 1938.
3aI was born July 14, 1844. Now figure that out for yourself miss. I was born at South Hampton, Liberty County, and I belonged to Roswell King, but he died long about sometime in the fifties and I was sold for debt to Colonel Fred Waring on Skidaway Island. I was about fifteen when I was sent to Skidaway.
3bWe sure did have big time going to church in those days. Not many of these Niggers can shout today the way we could then. You need a drum for shouting.
3cWe sure did. We beat a drum at the church and we beat a drum on the way to the graveyard to bury them. We walked in a long line moaning and we beat the drum all the way.
3dWe make drums out of sheep hide but we have to dry and stretch the skin over . Some make it out of hollow logs with skin over the end and some of them are as long as three feet.
3eSure I remember lots of them. Aint I seen plenty of them? I remember one boatload of seven or eight that came down from Savannah. That was just a little before the war. Robbie McQueen was African and Katie, and old man Jacob King, they're all African. I remember them all. Old man King he lived till he was old, lived till I helped bury him. But you cant understand much what these people say. They cant understand your talk and you cant understand their talk. They go "quack, quack, quack", just as fast as a horse can run, and my pa said, 'Aint no good to listen to them.' They got along all right but you know there was a lot of them that didnt stay down here.
3fNo, ma'am, I don't mean them. Didn't you hear about them? Well, at that time Mr. Blue he was the overseer and Mr. Blue put them in the field, but he couldn't do anything with them. They gabble, gabble, gabble, and nobody could understand them and they didn't know how to work right. Mr. Blue he went down one morning with a long whip for to whip them good.
3gNo ma'am, he aint hard, he just couldn't make them understand. They were acting foolish. He had to whip them, Mr. Blue, he didn't have any choice. Anyways, he whipped them good and they got together and stuck the hoe in the field and then said "quack, quack, quack", and they rose up in the sky and turned themselves into buzzards and flew right back to Africa.
3hWhat, You aint heard about them? Everybody knows about them. They sure left the hoe standing in the field and they rose right up and flew right back to Africa.
3iNo, ma'am, I didn't see them. I've been to Skidaway, but I knew plenty that did see them, plenty that were right there in the field with them, and seen the hoe that they left sticking up after they flew away.
4A group of slaves from the Ibo tribe refused to submit to slavery. Led by their chief and singing tribal songs, they walked into the water and were drowned at a point on Dunbar Creek later named Ebo (Ibo) Landing.
5William Rogers, Cowhorn Road, Darien.
5aWhen I get my hands back into use, I hope to carve a cane with a gator on it like the ones I made long ago. When I do, I'll sure send it to you.
6Priscilla McCullough, near Darien.
6aBorn three years to freedom in Sumter, South Carolina.
6bI heard many times about how in Africa when a girl doesn't act like they should, they'd drum her out of town. They just beat the drum and call her name on the drum and the drum says about all the things that she'd done. They drum and march along and take the girl right out of town.
6cGirls have to be careful then. They can't be so trifling like some of them are now. In Africa they get punished. Sometimes when they have been bad, they put them on the banjo. That was in this country.
6dWhen they play that night, they sing about that girl and they tell all about her. That's putting on the banjo. Then everybody knows and that girl sure better change her ways.
6eThe slaves were out in the field working. All of the sudden they got together and started to move around in a ring. Around they went faster and faster. Then one by one they rose up and took wing and flew like a bird. The overseer heard the noise and her came out and he saw the slaves rise up in the air and fly back to Africa. He ran and he caught the last one by the foot just as he was about to fly off. I don't know if he was near enough to pull him back down and keep him from goin off.
7Lawrence Baker, The Ridge Road, near Darien.
7aThey used to always beat the drum or blow the horn when somebody died. They beat two licks on the drum, then they stopped, then they beat three licks. When you beat that, you know somebody has died. Lots of the drums were home-made. They were made out of goat skin or coon skin that stretched out over hoops. There were three sizes of drums. There was the big barrel drum. It was higher than it was across. Then there was a little drum from twelve to fifteen inches wide and about eighteen inches high. The other drum was the medium size, kind of in between the other two. The big drum was the one they beat at the wake. They used drums at dances and meetings too.
7bWhen we have a funeral, we all march around the grave in a ring. We shout and pray.
7cYes ma'am, they always hold the baptism on a high ebb tide. That's so the tide will carry the sin out.
7dI knew one man named Friday, one that was named Saturday, and another he was named Tuesday. Guess they named them that way because they were born on those days.
7eThere's lots that way now. Lots of folks don't eat some food because if they did they said it would bring bad luck on the parents. Some don't eat rice, some don't eat eggs, and some don't eat chicken.
7fMy grandmother, she's Rachel Grant, she used to tell me about a lot of these things. I remember she use to pray every daty at sunrise, at middle day, and then at sunset. She always faced the sun and when she finished praying she always bowed to the sun. She told me about the slaves that could fly too. If they didn't like it on the plantation, they just took wing and flew right back to Africa.
7gMy grandmother said they use to eat with oyster shells. Use them for spoons. When they went to shoot the gun, they caught fire with a rag and flint.
7hThat's a spider miss. It comes around here all the time and whistles just like a person. I don't fool with no spiders. They are bad luck. All the time they drop down right out of the tree.
7iI know there are spirits and ghosts because I can see them. You have to be born with a caul to be able to see the spirits.
7jSome of the folks are ridden so much by witches that after a time they get thin and poor and just die. When a witch comes in the house, it hangs up the skin behind the door and if you put salt on the skin, the witch can't put it on again. Benne seed is bad for the witch too and keeps them away.
7kWitches take all kinds of shapes. Sometimes they're like animals, sometimes like birds. In Harris Neck there was a buzzard that use to light on the fence everytime they would be milking the cows. When the buzzard would fly off, one of the milk buckets would always be dry. This happened every day. They would shoot at the bird but nobody could ever hit it. One man he took a dime and quartered it; then he put it in the gun. The next day when the buzzard lit on the fence, he shot at it and hit it in the wing. It flew off and went down a chimney of a house. When the men went in the house, they found an old woman with her arm broke. They knew then she was a witch. I know there was some talk about burning her up, but I don't think they did it.
7lEvery night I sit on this porch here. I can see the spirits going by. There is a whole crowd of little white things. They are going over there to the spring. Some are like children; some are like grown folks. They just go across the field to the marble steps of the old garden and down the steps to the fountain. I don't ever bother them and they never do me any harm.