“My pa was named George Clemens.  Us was all owned by Marster Morgan Clemens.  Master Hardy, his daddy, had give us to him when he ’vided out wid de res’ o’ his chillun. (Marster Morgan was a settled man.  He went ‘roun’ by hisse’f mos’ o’ de time.  He never did marry.)

“My pa went to de war wid Marster Morgan an’ he never come back.  I don’t ’member much ’bout ’em goin’, but after dey lef’ I ’member de Blue Coats a-comin’.  Dey tore de smoke house down an’ made a big fire an’ cooked all de meat dey could hol’.  All us Niggers had a good time, ’cause, dey give us all us wanted.  One of ’em put me up on his knee an’ asked me if I’d ever seen Marster wid any little bright ‘roun’ shiny things. (He held his hand up wid his fingers in de shape of a dollar.) I, lak a crazy little Nigger said, ‘Sho’, Marster draps ’em ’hind de mantelpiece.’  Den, if dey didn’ tear dat mantel down an’ git his money, I’s a son-of-a-gun!

“After de war was over my ma got some papers from de progo[FN:  provost] marshal.  She come to de place an ‘tol’ de marster she want her chillun.  He say she can have all ’cept me.  She say she want me, too, dat I was her’n an’ she was gwine a-git me.  She went back an ’got some more papers an’ showed ’em to Marster Morgan.  Den he lemme go.

“She come out to de house to git us.  At firs’ I was scared o’ her, ‘cause I didn’ know who she was.  She put me in her lap an’ she mos’ nigh cried when she seen de back o’ my head.  Dey was awful sores where de lice had been an’ I had scratched ’em. (She sho’ jumped Aunt Emmaline ‘bout dat.) Us lef’ dat day an’ went right on to Tuscaloosa.  My ma had married again an’ she an’ him took turns ’bout carrying me when I got tired.  Us had to walk de whole seven miles.

“I went to school after dat an’ learnt to read an’ write.  Us had white Yankee teachers.  I learnt to read de Bible well’ nough an’ den I quit.

“I was buried in de water lak de Savior.  I’s a real Baptis’.  De Holy Sperrit sho’ come into my heart.

“I b’lieves in de Sperrit.  I b’lieves all o’ us when us dies is sperrits.  Us jus’ hovers ‘roun’ in de sky a-ridin’ on de clouds.  Course, some folks is born wid a cloud over dey faces.  Dey can see things dat us can’t.  I reckon dey sees de sperrits.  I know’ bout dem Kloo Kluxes.  I had to go to court one time to testify ‘bout’ em.  One night after us had moved to Tuscaloosa dey come after my step-daddy.  Whilst my ma an’ de res’ went an’ hid I went to de door.  I warnt scared.  I says, ’Marster Will, aint dat you?’ He say, ‘Sho’, it’s me.  Whar’s yo’ daddy?’ I tol’ ’im dat he’d gone to town.  Den dey head out for ’im.  In de meantime my ma she had started out, too.  She warned him to hide, so dey didn’ git ’im.

“Soon after dat de Yankees hel’ a trial in Tuscaloosa.  Dey carried me.  A man hel’ me up an’ made me p’int out who it was dat come to our house.  I say, ‘Dat’s de man, aint it Marster Will?’ He couldn’ say “No”, ’cause he’d tol’ me twas him dat night.  Dey put ’em in jail for six months an’ give ’em a big fine.