Faith | Fictional account based on WPA Slave Narratives (Mississippi)

As a MDAH volunteer, one of my assignments was to write scripts for potential historical re-enactors based on historic documents.

Faith
Female Slave, fictional

Time period: Pre-1865
Prop/pantomime options: Speaking as she weaves or spins. Wearing a brass ring.
Descriptors: Light-skin, mid-20s

I know that my mammy’s pappy was a full blooded Indian from Virginia. Her mammy was a full blooded African though, a great big woman. My mammy come from Virginy. Her name was Harriet Brewer. She was owned by Marster Mogan Clemens whose daddy gave her and two brothers as a wedding present. I was born here on this farm. My daddy being my Marster’s young cousin who came to visit one day from Alabama. It’s been to my sorrow many a time, because the children used to chase me around and holler at me, ‘Yallow Nigger.’  My mammy had been sold with my infant brother when I was not more than a baby myself. 

Growing up I stayed in the house most of the time with Aunt Emmaline. She’d had come out of the house to tell us children to stop hollerin’ so loud. At first I was scared of her, because I didn’t know who she was, but then I sassed her and she jerk me up and put me over her knee. She almost cried when she saw the back of my head. They’re was awful sores where the the lice had been and I had scratched them. 

I’d sit with her while she worked the loom room at night by light of a pine knot.  She taught me how to weave and spin. Before I was bigger than a minute I could do things that lots of the old hands couldn’t come to do. 

Marse chose my husband. Came over to me and said, “Faith you going to take up with Exter in that cabin over yonder.” I was about sixteen years old. He gave us a wedding too. All the white folks and the niggers for miles a-round come to see us get married. They had a big supper and had a peck to eat. We have eight children, ain’t but three of them living and two was sold. Exter and me been living together for at last ten years. Marse moved him down the road last June. We just couldn’t get along together, so our quittin’ ain’t bring tears. He lives out at Acker's farm now.

I have the gift for healing. Learned how to put soot on a cut to make it stop bleeding. When any nigger gets sick I go to the woods and get herbs and roots and make them drink the tea. Hogweed and May apples are the best things I know. Some eat too many of them apples sometimes, get awful sick. So I have to dose them up on grease and Samson snake root to clean them out. Horsemint for chills and mullen leaves for fever good as anybody. If they got running off the bowels, they get red oak barks is the best thing. I wears a brass ring on my finger to keep off croup. 

Plenty of folks believe in charms, but I ain’t take no stock. But I don’t like for the moon to shine on me when I sleep. Since I have the gift, Marse lets me have my own patch to plant what I want. Is even has some flowers that bloom when it’s not too hot like today.

My Aunt Emmaline been dead a couple years now so I make most all the clothes for the niggers. Kind of dress with white aprons for the women and the men wear overalls and homespun pants and shirts. I keep watch over the children playing in the yard, white and black. Looking at them some could be twins. All shades of the same face. 

I also keep all the orphan children and them who’s mammas been sent off to the breedin’ quarters too. God willing l raise those children to see freedom one day.