ley
Project 935
Richland County

ADELE FROST

EX-SLAVE 93 YEARS OF AGE

"I was bo'n in Adams Run, South Carolina, January 21st. 1844. My father
name was Robert King, an' my mother was Minder King. My father was bo'n
in Adams Run but my mother came from Spring Grove, South Carolina. I had
eight brothers an' sisters, Maria, Lovie, Josephine, Eliza, Victoria,
Charlie an' Robert King. The other two died w'en dey was babies. Only
three of us is alive now. Maria, who lives in Adams Run is 95 years old.
I was brought heh at the age of twelve to be maid for Mr. Mitchell, from
who' I didn't git any money but a place to stay an' a plenty of food an'
clothes. My bed was the ole time four post' with pavilion hangin' over
the top.

"I's use to wear thin clothes in hot weather an' warm comfortable ones
in the winter. On Sunday I wear a ole time bonnet, a'm hole apron, shoes
an' stockin'. My Master was kind to his slaves an' his overseer was all
Negroes. He had a large fa'm at Parkers' Ferry. He worked his slaves
'til twelve in the day an' the res' of the day they could do their own
work.

"I never gone to school in my life an' massa nor missus ever help me to
read.

"On the plantation was a meetin' house in which wen' used to have
meetin's every Chuseday night, Wednesday night, an' Thursday night. I
use to attend the white church. Doctor Jerico was de pastor. Collud
people had no preacher but dey had leader. Every slave go to church on
Sunday 'cause dey didn't have any work to do for Massa. My grandma use
to teach the catekism an' how to sing.

"Co'n shuckin' was always done in de night. Dere was also a dance. Es de
distance was five miles we would walk dere, work an' dance all night an'
come back early nex' mornin'.

"Fun'rals was at night an' w'en ready to go to the graveyard every body
would light a lightud knot as torch while every body sing. This is one
of the songs wen' use to sing,

'Goin' to carry dis body
To the grave-yard,
Grave-yard don' you know me?
To lay dis body down.'

"These are some the games wen' use to play,

Have a han'ful of co'n den say,
"Trow kissey Wilson let him go."

while the res' is to guess how many co'n is lef in his han's.

We ain't had no doctor, our Missus an' one of de slave' would 'tend to
the sick.

The Yankees take t'ree nights to march through I was afraid of dem an'
clim' into a tree. One call me down an' say, "I am your frien'". He give
me a piece