From Slavery to Socialism:  Williana  and  Charles

The Joneses: Williana's story
            Sometime in 1855, on a Louisiana plantation, a slave girl named Sarah Dotson was born.  My father wrote, “Grandma was the issue of my coal-black great-grandmother and an Irish overseer.  Grandma had two younger half-sisters, Aunt Mary and Aunt Lizzy, who were the legitimate -- if there was such a word during slavery -- daughters of my great-grandmother and her husband -- or rather the Negro male the Man permitted her to copulate with.”
            As a house slave, Sarah began her work life very young.  At the age of only three or four, she said, she was perched up on a box “to busy herself with dish-washing.  Sarah was about 12 or 13 when slavery was abolished by the Emancipation Proclamation, but relatively few slaves actually became free at this point; many slaves did not find out they were free until the passage of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution on Dec. 18, 1865.  Family lore has it that when Sarah, Mary, and Lizzy finally found out, some three years later, they left the plantation and, hand in hand, walked north to see what the world had to offer them. 
            They settled in Petersburg, Virginia, a town in Dinwoodie County.  Here Sarah married a Mr. William R. Jones, and they had five children:  two who died unrecorded, my grandmother, Williana, born January 2, 1882, my great-uncle Gordon H., born February 22, 1883, and a second little girl, Nellie Coleman Jones, born September 8, 1884.
            The Petersburg census records for 1870 list what looks like a very similar family:
Jones, James    23        M         B         carriage driver
Jones, Sarah    22        F          M         keep house
Jones, Alice     2          F          M
            The initials MB  and FM stand for Male Black and Female Mulatto.  My heart leapt when I found this entry, till I recollected that the baby should be Williana, not Alice (by coincidence, Alice happened to be the name of my paternal grandfather’s mother.)  And later I realized that the year was way too early. Still, ever since, I can’t help but picture my great-grandparents taking a drive down Petersburgh’s main street in Mr. Jones’ carriage.

Comments

Popular Posts