milton an' I lib at
sickty-t'ree Amherst Street.

"I 'member sumptin' 'bout slabery. I wuz 'bout big as dat gal gwine dere
w'en de Fed'rul war broke out," indicating a child, passing down the
street who appeared to be about eight years old.

"I belong' to Maussa Seabrook, an' he lib at W'ite Point, ten mile from
Adams Run. De Maussa, he been daid but he got some boys. Dem boys all
scatter', dough. Yassuh, ole Maussa treat us good. I not big 'nough to
wuk, I jus' a li'l boy den. My fadder name' Rhode Hamilton, an' 'e hab
two acre to wuk. Dere didn't been no hoss, an' 'e grub it wid de hoe.

"Some slabes no good an' not satisfy fo' tuh wuk. Dey run 'way fum de
plantation. Dere been big dawgs high as street-cyar, yassuh, high as dat
street-cyar. Dey name' nigger-dawg an' dey trace nigger an' put dem
nigger back to wuk. Dere been Yankee man name' Tom Cudry. I kin sho' de
house 'e been in. He say 'e tired see colored mans wuk hard an' git
nuttin'. He put colored mans on banjoo (vendue) table an' 'e be free.

"I didn't be marry till I git in my t'irty year. My wife, she 'bout
sickty-fibe year ole'. We got fibe chillun libbin', 'bout twelbe haid in
all. Grand-chillun? 'Bout sebben haid an' one gal. Hab great
grand-chillun, too.

"I ain't been know nuttin' 'bout jailhouse. Ain't see a jailhouse in my
life. I hab to look all day to find one in Charleston, an' don't know
where 'bouts de court-house. Ain't gwine to jailhouse. Nobody hab to
'rest me no how.

"I be a Babtis'. I babtize' in de ribber, de Edisto ribber. I tryin' git
to Hebben. Hebben be glory. Yassuh, Hebben be glory. You got to lub all
God's chillun to git dere. God send w'ite folks an' colored folks, an'
dey mus' he'p each odder an' wuk togedder. Dey got to lib in union.
Yassuh, got to lib in union to git to Hebben.

"I 'pend on de w'ite folks to he'p me. Dese pore colored folks ain't got
nuttin'. Nawsuh, I ain't be too ole to wuk an' mek a honest libbin' like
lot o' dem no good nigger what too stiff fo' to speak. I wuk some
flower-yard fo' some w'ite folks, an' I wuk a li'l gyarden.

"Yassuh, I hol' up berry well, but I can't see at night w'en de sun go
down. My sight gone back den. I got git 'long now.

"You gimme a nickel or dime? T'ank you, suh. T'ank you kin'ly."

=Source:= Personal interview with John Hamilton, colored,
of 63 Amherst Street, Charleston, S.C.

Project #-1655
Jessie A. Butler
Charleston, S.C.

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