ed de coop.

Dem Yankees went in de big house an' dey tored an' busted up all dey
pleased, dey eben throwed de clothes all ober de yard.

Dey took two big barns o' corn an' haul hit off an' down Devil's Jump on
Morris Creek dey buried ever so much molasses an' all.

At Rattlesnake Spring de Yankees fin's whar Marster Jake's still had
been, an' dar buried, dey fin's five barrels o' brandy.

Atter de war we stayed on as servants o' Doctor Miller fer seberal
years. I 'members de only time dat I eber got drunk wus long den. De
doctor an' his frien's wus splurgin', an' I went wid another nigger ter
git de brandy from de cellar fer de guests. When I tasted hit, hit drunk
so good, an' so much lak sweetin water dat I drunk de pitcher full. I
wus drunk three days.

I married Milly, an' sixty years ago we moved ter town. We scuffled
along till twenty-eight years ago we buyed dis shack. I hopes dat we can
git de ole age pension, case we shore need hit.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320015]
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
Subject: Ex-Slave Story
Story Teller: Milly Henry
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 26 1937"]

EX-SLAVE STORY

An interview with Milly Henry 82 of 713 South East Street, Raleigh, N. C.

I wus borned a slave ter Mr. Buck Boylan in Yazoo City, Mississippi. I
doan know nothin' 'bout my family 'cept my gran'maw an' she died in
Mississippi durin' de war.

Marster Buck owned three plantations dar, de Mosley place, Middle place,
an' de Hill place. Me an' gran'maw lived at de Mosley place. One day
Marster Buck comes in, an' we sees dat he am worried stiff; atter awhile
he gangs us up, an' sez ter us:

De Yankees am a-comin' to take my slaves 'way from me an' I don't 'pose
dat dey am gwine ter do dat. Fer dem reasons we leaves fer No'th
Carolina day atter termorror an' I ain't gwine ter hyar no jaw 'bout
hit.'

Dat day he goes over de slaves an' picks out 'roun' five hundret ter go.
He picks me out, but my gran'maw he sez dat he will leave case she am so
old an' feeble. I hates dat, but I don't say nothin' at all.

We leaves home in kivered wagons, wid a heap walkin' an' in 'bout three
weeks, I reckon, we gits ter Raleigh. You should have been 'long on dat
trip, honey; When we camps side of de road an' sleeps on de groun' an'
cooks our rations at de camp fires. I think dat dat wus one spring 'fore
de surrender wus de nex'.

Marster Buck carries us ter