|
Esther King
Casey, Age 81
Birmingham,
Alabama
Interviewer: Edward F.
Harper
Living with her granchildren at 801 Washington Avenue,
Birmingham, Alabama, Esther King Casey, former slave of Capt.
Henry King of Americus, Georgia, recalls from fading memory a
few vivid scenes of the days when men in gray moved hurridly
about the town, suddenly disappeared for a while and then
returned, one by one, with weary, halting tread and hollow
faces, while gloom and despair hovered over the town like a
pall, of desolation.
Less vivid in her memory are the
stories told her by her grandmother of a long voyage across
the ocean, of the arrival in a new land called Mobile, and of
slaves being sold at public auction. Less vivid, too, are the
memories of her own journey to Georgia, where she, with her
parents and brothers, were brought to be the slaves of Captain
King.
"I was only four or five years old when we came
to Captain King's big house," said the old woman, brightening
with pride in her ability to recollect. Her manners bore the
marks of culture and refinement, and her speech was
surprisingly void of the usual Negro dialect. She is an
example of the former slave who was educated along with the
white children in the family.
"There were eight or ten
slaves in all," Esther continued. "We lived in a house in the
backyard of Captain King's Big House. My mamma was the cook.
Papa was a mechanic. He built houses and made tools and
machinery. Captain King gave me to the 'white lady;' that was
Miss Susan, the Captain's wife. Captain King was a fine man.
He treated all of us just like his own family. The 'white
lady' taught us to be respectable and truthful."
When
asked if she had ever been punished for misbehavior the old
woman smiled and said: "Once the 'white lady' whipped me for
playing with the jailer's children. She had told me not to
play with them because they were not good company for me. She
said that she wanted to raise me to be good and truthful, and
that the jailer's little white children told lies and talked
bad."
Esther remembers well the mobilization of
gray-uniformed troops at the courthouse which stood only a
block from the King residence. "The town was filled with
soldiers for several days," she said. "They assembled about
the courthouse and speakings. One day I passed there with my
papa and saw Abraham Lincoln hanging from a noose in the
courthouse square. Of course, it was only an affigy of Abraham
Lincoln which was used to show what the soldiers thought of
him. Papa told me that the soldiers shot the effigy full of
bullet holes before they left town.
"Before Captain
King left he brought a man with him from the courthouse to
value his property. The slaves were valued, too. I remember
Captain King lifting me high above his head and saying to the
men: 'I wouldn't take a thousand dollars for this little gem.'
"
She paused a moment. The light in her eyes showed
that she was reliving the thrill of that childhood
incident.
"Then Captain King left with the other
soldiers. Papa stayed and took care of the 'white lady' and
the house. After a while my brother ran away and joined the
troops to fight for Captain King. He came back after the war,
but Captain King did not. Several years later I saw a man down
in south Georgia who told me that he belonged to Captain
King's troops. He said that he was standing near him when he
was killed."
"After the proclamation the slaves were
free. Most of them leased out to plantation owners. I stayed
with mama and the 'white lady.' "
Mrs. King had taught
the little slave girl to read and write, and when schools were
opened for the freed slaves she told the child's mother to
send her to school. Fees of fifty cents a month were charged,
which Mrs. King paid as long as the child remained with her.
At eighteen years of age the girl had acquired sufficient
education to qualify to teach in the public schools for
Negroes. After three years of teaching she married Jim Casey,
and ex-slave, who took her to his "three-plow" farm in south
Georgia.
"No man ever lived who was finer than Jim,"
said the old woman. My daughter used to say that I loved him
more than God, and that God was jealous and took him away from
me."
After her only daughter's death in 1919, Esther
was brought to Birmingham by her grandson who has kept her
comfortably ever since. Her hair is just turning gray, though
she was born in 1856. The little briar pipe, which she
endeavors to conceal from strangers, is the only outward
evidence that she has anything in common with others of her
generation.
Copy
5/4/37 |
