Stories about Slaves
from the
Page News & Courier
in the 1930s
From the January 8, 1932 issue of the PN&C
From a letter (dated 1 Jan. 1932) written by Jacob H. Coffman to the Page News & Courier
“I was wondering if I could interest the present generation by giving them a little of the history of antebellum days of slavery and how some things were done in by-gone days – things that I know did really happen. Now all I shall tell of will be done without doing violence to the truth for I hate a prevaricator. When I was quite a boy scarcely in my teens, I was on the Pike near Marksville one day in the fall of the year, when I came up with a big negro man driving a four-horse team and I soon got in conversation with him while he made some adjustments to the harness, when he said to me, ‘I sho’ do wish it was Chrismus’ and I asked him why? He replied, ‘Caus’ de white folks always gives us flour bread at Chrismus’ and now just think how many hard days work that poor slave did on that farm to produce the hundreds of bushels of wheat that was sold every year and his reward was a few little biscuits at Christmas time – once a year.”
“Was this not muzzling the ox that ‘treadeth out the corn’ for after using his power to raise it, he could not eat of it.”
“Now of all that I shall mention I could give the names of every one of them, both male and female, black and white, old or young, but I will withhold all names from the fact I know of just one person yet living in Page county that it might touch and I do not want to mar the feeling of anyone, yet I doubt if anyone now living could give this account of slavery days.”
“Now, I ask you readers not to get discouraged because we put the dark side first, as I am leaving the best for last.”
“I knew a farmer who had a number of slaves, among whom was a large negro woman and her mistress was very fond of her ‘toddy’ and was often visibly under its influence and it was on one of these occasions that it seemed that all the slave did was wrong, so the ‘missus’ called one of her sons and told him to bring her the carriage lines, as they were always used to tie up a negro for punishment, just then the slave spoke up and asked what they were going to do with her and her mistress said, ‘I am going to tie you up and give you one hell of a good beating,’ to which the colored slave replied, ‘No I’ll be damned if you do, for I have done nothing wrong, and if you try to beat me one of the other of us dies right here,’ and the mistress seeing violence in the negro’s eyes wilted, and called off the job, and it was never attempted again. The slaves had no happy home in that family, bit judgment came in a short time – their barn burned with a summer’s crop and with it three fine horses. It was my privilege to view the ruins, the morning after the fire.”
“Just about one mile from the place I have just mentioned was a large plantation on which were quite a few slaves and two of them ran off and the owner offered a reward of $50 for their capture and in a short time words came that they were being held at Moorefield, W.Va. and the captors were instructed ‘to bring them to New market, Va., where the owner met them, paid the reward and brought them home in his carriage. I lived at that time with my parents in a house that stood very near the present residence of Hon C.C. Louderback, in what is now Stanley. I well remember that my father said as the man drove by with the two negroes tied in his carriage, he said, ‘poor men, I pity them when he gets them home.’ It was said that he tied them over a barrel in the barn and after beating their backs raw, he put salt and pepper on their bleeding wounds, and they were the same men that got his two horses ready for him to drive to church the following Sunday – he was supposed to be a Christian, but was he?”
“Well, might we say in the language of the late Hon. Charley Crisp, ‘how can such things be and overcome us like a summer’s cloud without one’s special wonder.’ Now this was in 1859 and now comes judgment for in 1860, this man’s fine large mansion burned down, entailing a loss that brought discouragement to that man, so much that he sold the farm, great as it was and moved to another county, and now we have just one more picture of the dark side and then comes the brighter side, for like prosperity it is just always around the corner.”
“About one-half mile from the first place I mentioned a man had three negro men and one of them was suspected of running off the place at night to visit slaves on other farms, and spies were put out to catch him and in due time he was finally caught and reported to his pastor, who with the carriage lines had him tied to a locust tree in the yard and after baring his back and ready to apply the lash the negro said, ‘Master, all the money I have is 12 cents, I will give you that if you will not whip me.’ Now this got under the skin of his master, so he called on of his sons and handed him the lash and told him to operate and he did causing the blood to run down his back – but this broke him from running off for a short time only. A short while after, he was absent at roll call – and although this was [over] 65 years ago he has never been seen or heard of from that day to this – and here comes the judgment again for that fine home burned. This farm is now dotted over with many modern dwellings – ‘the mills of the gods-grind slow, yet they grind exceedingly fine.’ Well, so far – so bad. Now, I will put on the screen the brighter side.”
“I knew quite a few slave owners that were kind to their negroes and they would allow them to plant melon patches and even sell them as well as tobacco and broom corn. They would make brooms and sell them around among the people, but to do this they had to have a permit on paper from their masters and some of the owners often borrowed money from their slaves. I knew of one slave owner, and a good Christian man, who would allow his slaves to have a party and dance in their homes. I stood one night watching them swing their colored lines around while the master of ceremonies would yet out, ‘Whoop Molly, hoochy, croochy!’”
From the February 9, 1932 issue of the PN&C
Jacob R. Seekford's "Home of the Birds" column
“I have never written anything about the colored folks that were set free just after the war and Brother [Jacob H.] Coffman’s letter [from January 1, 1932 – which will be presented in one of my upcoming articles] takes my mind back to that time. All the Koontzes had slaves and the late A.J. Shuler had slaves. After these slaves were set free, all of them hired to their masters and lived in the little log cabins where they lived during slavery times. There was old Dennis Finton, his wife and four children, Ambrose, John, Emma, and Maggie. Then there was old Aaron Washington and his wife, Sindie. I never knew any of the children, but Elder John Washington, who died at Luray, not many years ago belonged to Daniel Koontz and was set free when he was a little boy. Then there was old uncle Mat Ford, his wife Martha, and three children, Jake, Jim and Bub. Then there was Lewis Green, and his wife Fannie. They had no children. Then there was Dovel’s Sill. She never married but raised a boy named Hiram. Then there was old Uncle Sam Lewis. He married Caroline Green. Sam had a large family of children, his girls were Emma, Little, Lottie, Jim, Hubert and Samuel who now lives with Lester Biedler on the Hawksbill. Then there was Mary Jackson. She was a Cyrus and married Thomas Jackson. There was Tuck, Emma, Mollie and Andrew, the Luray colored merchant, up at the Andrew Jackson school. Andrew’s father never was a slave. I knew all of these people when I was a little boy. I have seen four or five of the old women that I have written about in the homes of the old masters when there was a wedding or big day, in the kitchen preparing the dinners, and believe me all of these old colored women were the finest cooks in the world. None of the white cooks could prepare a meal like these old colored women. Their husbands would be there to carry in wood and water and help the women in the kitchen. They would also bring their children and after the white folks had eaten then everything was turned over to the colored folks, and they would have a great feast.”
“The colored people all had good masters and they were treated just as well as if they were their own children. I never heard of any of these slaves being whipped and mistreated, and never heard of any of them being in need of anything. None of these people who were in bondage are now living. All that are living now were born after the war.”
From the March 21, 1933 issue of the PN&C
Devotion to an Old Negro Mammy Article from the "Home of the Birds" column written by Jacob R. Seekford
“About 135 years ago, George Kite lived in the big brick house that now stands half way between Alma and Honeyville on the east side of the road now owned by William Martin. By Mr. Kite’s first marriage was born three daughters and three sons: Hiram Kite, who went West; Noah Kite who was drowned in the flood of 1870; Hardy Kite who was found dead in a piney field about a mile southeast of Alma. After Mr. Kite lost his first wife, he married again and because of family differences, he divided his large estate here and moved to near the Rapidan river, not far from Graves’ mill, buying property there. In the same brick house, Siram Kite and Charlie Kite and James Kite were born. They were by the second marriage. In a little log house, which stood near the big brick house, was born a hundred and thirty-two years ago a little negro baby girl. She was the slave girl of old George Kite when Mr. Kite moved from Page county. He took the colored women with him. She had nursed all of the Kite children. When she was set free she never left the Kite home.
Thirty-five years ago I went over to Charlie Kite’s place to move a large store building for him. I went on the porch and noticed a little room screened in. I wondered what it was for and looked in through the screen. In there was the most pitiful sight that I had ever beheld. There was an old woman with a snow white head. Her eyes reminded me of the eyes of a large black spider. This old woman had been in this little cage for six long years. No kind of an insect could get to her. The Kite family fed her with a spoon as she had no use of her limbs. I have seen Mr. Kite go to the spring and dip up fresh water and hold it to the old woman’s lips for her to drink. I have seen him take water and a towel and wash her face and hands. I finished up the job and came home. Later I went back to Mr. Kite’s stayed all night and left just as the sun peeped over the hills. This old human spider had passed into the great beyond.
Three Old Men Weep at Her Funeral
Siram Kite lived about six miles away from and Jim Kite lived about two miles but it wasn’t long before they arrived at the Charlie Kite home. In the meantime the old woman had been washed, dressed and laid out. I saw those old men stand around that old woman and cry like children. When the coffin came in she was placed in it. I saw on the top in a silver plate, the word ‘Mother.’ That night, those three old men, with Howard Lillard and Geo. Lillard sat up and watched the lifeless body of this old woman. They sat and talked of her useful life. I would like to be there when this old woman and sits in God’s golden witness chair and tells of her life that she spent around old Honeyville and Alma and on the banks of the old Rapidan. I was there lead to believe that there is a power in man that cannot be controlled.
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