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Simon Phillips, Age 90
with John Randolph
Birmingham, Alabama
Ex-slave leader
recalls old
days.
Interviewer: J. Morgan Smith
Simon Phillips, ex-slave, at 90 years is still as
clear-thinking as a young man and a leader among the oldsters
of his race in Birmingham and Alabama. He has been for the
past twenty-three years president of the union of ex-slaves
which is composed of 1,500 Negroes scattered throughout
Alabama. He is the only one of the Birmingham organizers of
the society living today and though one of the oldest of his
group, he shows but few signs of decrepitude. He walks with
the aid of a hickory cane which has been in his possession for
almost a half century, and his memory is not only accurate but
vivid. His physical activity is shown by the fact that he had
already spaded his garden and tiny stalks had pushed
themselves above the ground on a plot of earth covering
approximately seventy-five yards square, on the Spring morning
when he took "a little time off" to talk of the
past.
Well does he recall the days when, under Alabama
skies in the ??'s, he curried his master's fine carriage
horses; the times old Aunt Hannah cured him of "achin's" with
vetegable and root herbs; the nights he spent in the slave
quarters singing spirituals with his family.
Simon
Phillips was one of 300 Negroes belonging to Bryant Watkins, a
planter of Greensboro, Alabama. He was a house man, which
means that he mixed the drinks, opened the carriage doors,
brought refreshments on the porch to guests, saw that the
carriage was always in the best of condition and tended the
front lawn. When asked about slave days, he gets a far-away
expression in his eyes; an expression of tranquil
joy.
"People," he says, "has the wrong idea of slave
days. We was treated good. My massa never laid a hand on me
durin' the whole time I was wid him. He scolded me once for
not bringin' him a drink when I was supposed to, but he never
whup me."
The old slave added that every plantation had
a still and there was much brandy, but he rarely ever saw a
drunk man. He says that then the men felt themselves becoming
intoxicated, they would go home and lie down; now, he says,
they go home and fall down.
The plantation on which
Simon lived was seven miles long and three miles wide. When
luncheons was served, the Negroes far off in the bottom
lands had their food brought to them by the trash gang (boys
and women) while those in the nearer cotton fields ate in a
large mess hall. The food consisted of turnip greens, meat,
peas, crackling bread and syrup, and plenty of it. "Not since
those days," he states, "have I had such good
food."
"What about the marriage situation, Simon?" he
was asked. "How did you go about getting a
wife?"
"Well, nigger jus' go to the massa and tell him
that there's a gal over in Cap'n Smith's place that he want
for a wife, if she happens to be there. Then the massa go to
Cap'n Smith and offer to buy her. Maybe he do and maybe he
don't. It depend on whether the Cap'n will sell her, and iffen
she a good strong, healthy nigger. Niggers was bought mostly
like hosses. I was too young to have me a wife when I was wid
de massa, but I got me one later on after the
war."
During the War between the States, Simon served
as body guard for John Edward Watkins, son of the plantation
owner. Body guards went with their owners and cleanded the
guns, kept the camp in order and did some cooking. Simon
entered the war at the age of fourteen in Joe Wheeler's 51st
cavalry. He distinctly recalls the time he stood within ten
feet of the great general while he was making a
speech.
Sometimes slaves were parted from their
families, because when one planter bought a Negro from another
planter, he did not necessarily buy his wife or children, or
husband, as the case might be. The slaves were advertised
around and put on a block to stand while they were auctioned.
Women invariably brought more than men. He was asked, "about
overseers, Simon. What sort of men were they?"
"Well,"
he answered, "some was mighty mean. When the massa be away,
they tried to think up things to whup us for. But when the
massa around, had he catch 'em gettin' ready for to beat a
slave, he say 'don't cut no blood from that
Nigger!'"
Born in Hale County in 1847, Simon Phillips
stayed with his master until 1886 at which time he went to
live in Tuscaloosa to earn 17¢ a day, but he says he fared
better on it than on three dollars now.
After the war
many Negroes stayed with their masters and he remembers that
some of the carpetbaggers came through his plantation and
tried to make the ex-slaves stake off the land, saying that
half of it belonged to them.
"One day," says Simon, "a
few niggers was stickin' sticks in the ground when the massa
come up."
"What you Niggers doin'?" he
asked.
"We is stakin' off de land, massa. The Yankees
say half of it is ourn?"
"The massa never got mad. He
jus' look calm like."
"Listen, niggers' he says, 'what's
mine is mine, and what's yours is yours. You are just as free
as I and the missus, but don't go foolin' around my land. I've
tried to be a good master to you. I have never been unfair.
Now if you wants to stay, you are welcome to work for me. I'll
pay you one third the crops you raise. But if you wants to go,
you sees the gate.' "
"The massa never have no more trouble.
Them niggers jus' stays right there and works. Sometime they
loaned the massa money when he was hard pushed. Most of 'em
died on the old grounds. I was the youngest of a family of
sixteen and I has one sister still livin' on the old
plantation. I'm going down to see her next week, 'cause I can
never tell when the Great Master is goin' to call. We's gotta
be ready when he does, and both us is gettin' mighty old. I
gotta be sure and see her and the old place once
more." |
