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Slave Narrative of Eliza Scantling

Interviewer: Phoebe Faucette Person Interviewed: Eliza Scantling Location: Scotia, South Carolina Age: 87 “If you wants to know about de slavery times,” said old Aunt Eliza, “you’se sure come to de right person; ’cause I wuz right dere.” The statement was easy to believe; for old Aunt Eliza’s wrinkled face and stiff, bent form bore testimony to the fact that she had been here for many a year. As she sat one cold afternoon in December before her fire of fat lightwood knots, in her one-room cabin, she quickly went back to her childhood days. Her cabin walls and floor were filled with large cracks through which the wind came blowing in. “I gits along pretty good. My chillun lives all around here, and my granddaughter that’s a-standin’ at the window dere, takes care of me. Den de government helps me out. It sure is a blessing, too—to have sech a good government! And ‘Miss Maggie’ good to me. She brought me dis wood. Brought it in her truck herself. Had a colored man along to handle it for her. But I so stiff I sometimes kin hardly move from me waist down. And sometimes in de morning when I wake, it is all I kin do to get up an’ wash me face. But I got to do it. My granddaughter bring me my meals. “I is 87 years old. I know ’cause I wuz so high when de war broke out. An’ I plowed my January to July de year ‘fore peace declare. I remember dat. I wuz a good big girl; but jes’ a child—not married...

Slave Narrative of Daphney Wright

Interviewer: Phoebe Faucette Person Interviewed: Daphney Wright Location: Scotia, South Carolina Age: 106 106 Year Old Ex-Slave Just around the bend from the old mill pond on the way to Davis Swimming Pool lives a very old negro woman. Her name is Daphney Wright, though that name has never been heard by those who affectionately know her as “Aunt Affie”. She says she is 106 years old. She comes to the door without a cane and greets her guests with accustomed curtsey. She is neatly dressed and still wears a fresh white cap as she did when she worked for the white folks. Save for her wearing glasses and walking slowly, there are no evidences of illness or infirmities. She has a sturdy frame, and a kindly face shows through the wrinkles. “I been livin’ in Beaufort when de war fust (first) break out”, she begins. “Mr. Robert Cally was my marsa. Dat wuz in October. De Southern soldiers come through Bluffton on a Wednesday and tell de white folks must get out de way, de Yankees right behind ’em! De summer place been at Bluffton. De plantation wuz ten miles away. After we refugee from Bluffton, we spent de fust night at Jonesville. From dere we went to Hardeeville. We got here on Saturday evening. You know we had to ride by horses—in wagons an’ buggies. Dere weren’t no railroads or cars den. Dat why it take so long. “Mr. Lawrence McKenzie wuz my Missus’ child. We stayed wid him awhile, ’til he find us a place. Got us a little house. We stayed four years dere, ’til...

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