The following interview comes from the New Deal's "Federal Writers' Project." The Project was part of the Works Progress (later Work Projects) Administration (WPA) from 1936 to 1940. The goal of the WPA Federal Writers' Project was to document the oral history of people that lived during Reconstruction, the Gilded Age, World War I, and the Great Depression. The Project documented many important elements of American history including first-hand accounts of people who lived under or immediately after slavery (The Slave Narrative Collection). To read more about the goals and achievements of the Federal Writers' Project, visit the Library of Congress' Federal Writers' Project database. Please note that the language used in the passage reflects direct quotes from the original interview. As such, some phrases or words may be considered sensitive for some audiences. Additionally, many interviewers for the project were biased in what data was collected and how. Some key information from the narratives of enslaved people were omitted. Many details were censored at a state level before published nationally, and what was published often depicted formerly enslaved people and their descendants poorly. Learn More: the challenges of using information from the Slave Narratives Projects.

Mary A. Hicks interviews formerly enslaved Charlie Barbour, age 86, in Smithfield, North Carolina, May 20, 1937.

I belonged ter Mr. Bob Lumsford hyar in Smithfield from de time of my birth. My mammy wuz named Candice an' my pappy's name wuz Seth. My brothers wuz Rufus, William, an' George, an' my sisters wuz Mary an' Laura.

I 'minds me of de days when I was a youngun', I played marbles an' hide an' seek. Dar wuzn't many games den, case nobody ain't had no time fer 'em. De grown folkses had dances an' sometimes co'n shuckin'sAt a corn shuckings, people got together to husk corn from a field — to remove the green leaves that surround the corn cob. Once the work was finished, people would feast and dance., an' de little niggers patted dere feets at de dances an' dey he'p ter shuck de co'n. At Christmas we had a big dinner, an' from den through New Year's Day we feast, an' we dance, an' we sing. De fust one what said Christmas gift ter anybody else got a gif', so of cou'se we all try ter ketch de marster.

On de night 'fore de first day of Jinuary we had a dance what lasts all night. At nidnight when de New Year comes in marster makes a speech an' we is happy dat he thanks us fer our year's wuck an' says dat we is good, smart slaves.

Marster wucked his niggers from daylight till dark, an'his thirteen grown slaves had ter ten' 'bout three hundred acres o' land. Course dey mostly planted co'n, peas an' vege'ables.

I can 'member, do' I wuz small, dat de slaves wuz whupped fer disobeyin' an' I can think of seberal dat I got. I wuz doin' housewuck at de time an' one of de silber knives got misplaced. Dey 'cused me of misplacin' it on purpose, so I got de wust beatin' dat I eber had. I quz beat den till de hide wuz busted hyar and dar.

We little ones had some time ter go swimmin' an' we did; we also fished, an' at night we hunted de possum an' de coon sometimes. Ole Uncle Jeems had some houn's what would run possums or coons an' he uster take we boys 'long wid him.

I 'members onct de houn's struck a trail an' dey tree de coon. Uncle Jeems sen's Joe, who wuz bigger den I wuz, up de tree ter ketch de coon an' he warns him dat coons am fightin' fellers. Joe doan pay much mind he am so happy ter git der chanct ter ketch de coon, but when he ketched dat coon he couldn't turn loose, an' from de way he holler yo' would s'pose dat he ain't neber wanted ter ketch a coon. When Joe Barbour wuz buried hyar las' winter dem coon marks wuz still strong on his arms an' han's an' dar wuz de long scar on his face.

I 'members onct a Yankee 'oman from New York looks at him an' nigh 'bout faints. 'I reckon', says she, 'dat dat am what de cruel slave owner or driver done ter him'....

Yes 'um, I reckon I wuz glad ter git free, case I knows den dat I won't wake up some mornin' ter fin' dat my mammy or some ob de rest of my family am done sold. I left de day I hyard 'bout de surrender an' I fared right good too, do' I knows dem what ain't farin' so well.

I ain't neber learn ter read an' write an' I knows now dat I neber will. I can't eben write a letter ter Raleigh 'bout my old man's pension.

I 'members de days when mammy wored a blue hankerchief 'round her haid an' cooked in de great house. She'd sometimes sneak me a cookie or a cobbler an' fruits. She had her own little gyardin an' a few chickens an' we w'oud ov been happy 'cept dat we wuz skeered o' bein' sold.

I'se glad dat slavery am ober, case now de nigger has got a chanct ter live an' larn wid de whites. Dey won't neber be as good as de whites but dey can larn ter live an' enjoy life more.