trouble so de day when de
hawk caught him we wus tickled pink. De hawk sailed off wid de parrot
screamin' over an' over, 'Pore polly's ridin'. We laughed too quick
case de hawk am skeerd an' turns de ole fool parrot loose.

"Hit's things lak dat dat I 'members mostly, but I does 'member when de
news of de war come. Ole missus says dat de will of de Lord be done.
Den ole Marse sez dat his slaves won't be no happier in heaben dan dey
will wid him an' dat de Yankees better keep outen his business.

"De war comes on an' as de niggers l'arns dat dey am free dar am much
shoutin' an rejoicin' on other plantations, but dar ain't nothin' but
sorrow on ours, case de marster sez dat he always give us ever'thing
dat we needs ter make us happy but he be drat iffen he is gwine ter
give us money ter fling away. So we all has ter go.

"Ole marster doan live long atter de war am over, but till de day dat
he wus buried we all done anything he ax us.

"I has done mostly farm work all of my life, an' work aroun' de house.
Fer years an' years I lives on a part of Marse's land an' atter dat I
lives here. I ain't got no kick comin' 'bout nothin' 'cept dat I wants
my ole age pension, I does, an' I'd like to say too, Miss, dat de
niggers 'ud be better off in slavery. I ain't seed no happy niggers
since dem fool Yankees come along."

LE

By Miss Nancy Watkins
Madison, Rockingham County

Biography Sketch of Ex-Slave,
Anderson Scales, 82

Three fourths of a mile from his master's mansion in Madison on Hunter
Street, with his large plug tobacco factory across the street on the
corner (where [HW: in] 1937 stands the residence of Dr. Wesley
McAnally,) in some "quarters" which Nat Pitcher Scales had near Beaver
Island Creek, Anderson was born to slave mother, Martha Scales of a
father, "man name uh Edwards." Baby Anderson was the slave of William
Scales, at one time the world's largest manufacturer of plug or chewing
tobacco and he was named for Henry Anderson, the husband of Mrs.
William Scales' sister. Cabins here "quarters" consisting of three or
four log ones. Cabins were near the old "free white schoolhouse" or
rather the "schoolhouse" for whites.

Rolling around the yards with the other pickaninnies, Anderson passed
his babyhood, and when he was a boy he went to be house boy at Marse
Jim Dick Cardwell's on Academy Street facing Nat Pitcher Scales' home,
later that of Col. John Marion Gallaway. Here he learned good manners
a