Been in the Storm So Long_ The Aftermath of Slavery - Leon F. Litwack [166]
The uncertainties plagued both blacks and whites. Under slavery, the boundaries had been clearly established and both parties understood them. But what were the proper boundaries of black freedom? What new forms would the relationship between a former slave and his former master now assume? How would the freed blacks be expected to interact with free whites? Neither the blacks nor the whites were altogether certain, though they might have pronounced views on such matters. Now that black freedom had been generally acknowledged, it needed to be defined. The state legislatures, the courts, and the Federal government offered some direction. But freedom could ultimately be defined only in the day-to-day lives and experiences of the people themselves. “De day of freedom,” a former Tennessee slave recalled, the overseer came out into the fields and told them that they were free. “Free how?” they asked him, and he replied, “Free to work and live for demselves.”101 In the aftermath of emancipation, the newly freed slaves would seek to test that response and answer the question for themselves.
Chapter Five
HOW FREE IS FREE?
No more peck o’corn for me,
No more, no more,—
No more peck o’corn for me,
Many thousand go.
No more driver’s lash for me,
No more, no more,—
No more driver’s lash for me,
Many thousand go.
No more pint o’salt for me,
No more, no more,—
No more pint o’salt for me,
Many thousand go.
No more hundred lash for me,
No more, no more,—
No more hundred lash for me,
Many thousand go.
No more mistress’ call for me,
No more, no more,—
No more mistress’ call for me,
Many thousand go.
—FREEDMEN SONG, CIRCA 18661
What my people wants first, what dey fust wants is de right to be free.
—FREEDMAN IN SALISBURY, NORTH CAROLINA, FALL 18652
NOT LONG AFTER HEARING of their freedom, two young house servants on a plantation in Florida, unaware that they were being overheard, sat on the back porch one evening and exchanged thoughts about the kind of future they envisioned for themselves. One of them, Frances, had been a childhood gift to her equally young mistress, Martha, who had taught her to read and write. Like so many newly emancipated slaves, Frances had her full share of fantasies about a new life under freedom. To talk about them, as she did with another servant, had a way of making them seem almost real.
Frances: “Bethiah, isn’t that a pretty piece Miss Martha is playing on the piano?”
Bethiah: “I dunno. I wasn’t a-lisenin’.”
Frances: “Well, you listen, Beth. It’s such a pretty piece, and it’s a new piece, too. But I can sing every note of it. Lieutenant Zachendorf says this time next year all the white folks will be at work in the fields, and the plantations and the houses, and everything in them will be turned over to us to do with as we please. When that time comes I’m going straight in the parlor and play that very piece on the piano.”
Bethiah (scoffing): “You cain’t do it—you dunno how!”
Frances: “Yes, I do, too. You’ll see—but what are you going to do?”
Bethiah: “I’se a-gwine upstairs an’ dress up in de prittiest cloes dey-all is got, an’ den I’se a-gwine ter ax my beau ter walk rite in de parler an’ set down on de white folks sofy, an’ I gwine ter pull up one o’ dem fine cheers what we-all ain’t ’lowed ter set in, rite long-side o’ dem an’ us ’ill lissen ter you play de pi-an-ner!”
Frances (thoughtfully): “I don’t believe I would like to see my young lady working in the field—don’t mind about the rest of them—but I think I’ll keep her in the house for my maid.”
Bethiah: “No, let ’em all work—it’ll do ’em good!