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THIRTY YEARS
OF
FREEDOM
A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS
By Katherine D. Tillman
Single Copy 10c. $1.00 Per Dozen
THIRTY YEARS
OF
FREEDOM ....
Jt Drama In Four Acts
By Catherine D. Tillman.
Single Copy 10c. $1.00 per Dozen
Printed By
THE A. M. E. BOOK CONCERN.
631 Fine Street.
CHARACTERS
Aunt Savannah An Ex-Slave
Elder Jonah Old-Fashioned Preacher
Babette A Voodoo Woman
Vesta Carroll j
James Harris > Products of the New South
Chas. S. Wayman )
Ella Graves Aunt Savannah's Lost Child
Winona Graves A Willful Maiden
Robert Graves An Ambitious Boy
Marie Plummer A Typewriter
Tony Plummer Winona's Beau
Lucille Woodbury A Northern Teacher
Lawyer Graham Aunt S.'s Legal Adviser
Mrs. Graham The New Woman
Lillian Graham Aunt Savannah's Nursling
Caesar Office Boy
Thirty Years of Freedom
A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS
By Katherine D. Tillman
ACT I.
Scene i.— [Interior of a rude Southern cabin, table, several
wooden chairs, stools, old-fashioned cupboard displaying
a few dishes. Pictures of Lincoln, Grant and Frederick
Douglass, on the wall. Flower-pots in the window.
Aunt Savannah in faded calico dress, red handkerchief,
pipe in mouth, discovered darning.]
Aunt S.—Well, well, well! My little Ella libin';
married, an' got two chillen. 'Pears lak I can't get it
through my ole he'd. My little Ella dat was sole away
frum me w'en she was jes big 'nuff to toddle 'cross
•de flo'! Sole rite heah on dis bery plantashun whar I
was bred en bo'n, whar my ole man and the yetker
chillen are buried. Oh, how many nites has I laid
'wake an' wept case dey done sole my baby gal away.
Po' cullud folks, dey's had a hard time! All dese
years dey's been forced to toil fo' dere masters in de
cane-breakers, in de co'n fields an' on de cotton plan¬
tashun, an' what hab been dere reward? Sometimes
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
dey's bin treated lik' human' an' sometimes lik' brutes ?
But, thank God, more'n thirty yeahs ago dey dun heah
dat bugle note ob freedom echoin' ober dis Ian', and
Marse Lincoln war de man dat bio wed de bugle. One
t'ing 'sides makes me powe'ful glad, an' dat is, I's
sabed up de money dat I urned nussin' since de war
fo' dis berry hour. I bo't dis cabin home, thinkin' ef
eber I foun' my chile, she'd hab a home. Lawyer Gra¬
ham, one ob de bes' white men on de face ob de Tiole
earth, he holp me fin' my chile. I 'clar' sence I dun
nussed dat man an' his baby thro' yaller fever, 'pears
lik' he thinks he neber can do 'nuff fo' ole Aunt Sa¬
vannah. Well, I'se gwine sell out heah befo' anuder
week, an' I'se gwine up to de Norf to see my chile.
[Bab raps at the door.]
Aunt S.'—Cum. ] Enter Bab, calico dress, sun bon¬
net, apron sleeves rolled up.]
Bab.—See heah, Aunt Savannah, Jim Peters said
dat Aunt Marie Jones said Uncle Moses told Aunt
Martha's Annie, that you war thinkin' ob goin' up
Norf, an' I tooken my han's rite outen de wash-tub
an' ran ober heah to see ef it was so.
Aunt S.— [Rises in wrathful surprise.] Dese Georgy
collud fo'ks is de knowingest collud fo'ks I'se eber did
see in all my bo'n days. What dey know 'bout my
business, huh?
Bab.—De Black Despatch alius does hab de lates'
news. But sholy, Aunt Savannah, yo' don' mind
tellin' of me. Is yo' gwine to de Norf sho 'nuff.
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM 5
Aunt S.—Wal, yes, Bab, jes 'tween me an' yo' an'
de gate post, I'se gwine Norf jes soon's I kin git ready,
but I didn' 'low to teil a sole 'til I w;as ready to start.
Bab.—Wat fer yo' gwine. Aunt Savannah, jto hunt
3. husban' ?
Aunt S.—Bab, dose yo' 'low to 'suit me? I 'lowed
no man to look at me senee Gawge Wash'ngton
Linkum Peabody died, an' never 'spec's to long's my
hed's level. No, I dun heerd tell of leetle Ella, my
baby gal date was sole 'way in slabery times an' I'se
gwine Norf to see her.
Bab.—Well, I do mus' say. Did yo' eber heah tell
of sich good luck? How'd yo' eber cum to fin' whar
she is? I know'd I'se gwine heah news ob somekin',
case my rite eye's bin eachin' all day. Sho sign ob
news. And what's gwine cum ob po' Elder Jonah?
Aunt S.—Sho I ain't got Elder Jonah to ste'dy
'bout. Lawyer Graham dun adve'tised in sum collud
paper—de Christian Recorder, I b'lieve—an' foun'
whar my chile is. She's a widow, an' got two grown
up chillen, a boy an' a gal. But see heah, Bab, yo'
says yo' jes cum outen de washtub, dars a big pot
greens bilin' on de kitch'n stove an' a pan ob co'n
dodgers in de oben; is yo' hungry ?
Bab.—Jes sho me dat pot o' greens an' dat pan o'
co'n dodgers, an' I'll sho yo' ef I'se hungry or not.
[Exit Aunt Savannah and Bab. Music. Re-enter
'Aunt Savannah and Bab.)
6 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Bab.—Now, Aurit Savannah, youse gwine cum down
to de holler to de Voodoo meetin' tonight, ain't yo' ?.
Aunt S.—But wat's. de use ob my goin' ? I dun
tole yo' dat I don' b'liebe in dat Voodoo no mo'. Ef
yo' collud fo'ks could do so much Voodooism an'
Hoodooism to each odder, why didn' yo' hoodoo de
white fo'ks w'en dey's la^in' de lash on yo' back in
slabery times an' let yo' own color 'lone.
Bab.—Youse got pow'ful wise all ob a sudden.
Don' yo' know I cud have yo' walkin' on yo' hed ef
I'se mine to? Ef yo' ain't feared ob me youse de only
nigger in Georgy dat ain't. Is yo' cumin' down, or
not?
Aunt S.—I'll be down clar to bid yo' all good-bye
ef nothin' mo'.
Bab.—Good-bye; I'se gwine. [Exit Bab.]
Aunt S.—[Follozvs her to the door then sits down
mid resumes her darning. A knock is heard. Bnter
Vesta Carroll attired in neat zvalking costume; also
James Harris.]
James H.—Good evening, Aunt Savannah. We
heard that you were going away, and we came over
to tell you good-bye. [Aunt S. shakes hands with
them and seats them.)
Aunt S.—Well, ef dat don' beat de Jews*! Some
fo'ks couldn't keep a secret ef dere lives depended on
it. Yes, I'se gwine Norf to see my darter dat youse
hearn me speak ob dat wuz sole erway. My darter
tells me dat de cullud fo'ks has a chance to get up in
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
7
<de Norf. Yo' an' Vesta better cum an' go 'long, case
youse a mighty po' chance heah.
Vesta.—What, Aunt Savannah, give up the glorious
work of teaching among my own people? No; with
all the prejudice and its attendant hardships, I prefer
to live in my own sunny Southland and devote my life
to the elevation of my people. Could I teach school in
the North, Aunt Savannah?
Aunt S.—Lawd noes, gal, fer I don't. But one
t'ing I do no, dey nebber has no Klu-Klux nor lynchin'
ob cullud men fer white men's meanness. But den
youse rite. Stay whar yo' t'inks yo' kin do de mos'
good, an' may de Lawd bless yo'. How's it wid yo'
an' Jim ? I ain't gwine ter say Doctor Harris, caze I'se
nussed yo' w'en yo' warnt five minute ole, an' you'll
alius be Jim ter me.
Jim.—[Aside.] Vesta is certainly a darling girl.
I wouldn't let her go if she wanted to. [Aloud.] Aunt
•»
Savannah, you have been like a mother to Vesta and
myself. You've helped us since we were little moth¬
erless tots, and always taught us to labor for the ele¬
vation of our people. We hate to see you leave us.
We thought you could bake our wedding cake, but
here where we were born and bred, and where for
two hundred and fifty years our parents tilled the
soil and caused the sunny South to blossom as the rose,
here where they once dwelt as slaves, we will stay
like men and labor for the redemption of the rising
sons and daughters of Ham.
8 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Aunt S.—Amen. [A knock is heard.]
Aunt S.—Cum. [Enter Chas. S. Wayman.]
Chas. S.—Good evening, Aunt Savannah, is it pos¬
sible that you are going to leave us ?
Aunt S.—Yes, Charles Sumner, Aunt Savannah's
gwine lef' soon fo' de Norf to see her chile an' gran'-
chillen. My ole heart's achin' fo' a sight ob dere
faces. Forty yeahs is a long time to be seperated frum
yo' only living chile. 'Peers lak ef I had wings, I'd fly
dar dis berry minit, so long, so long.
Chas.—God was good to spare you to see this day,
Aunt Savannah.
Aunt S.—Chillen, my God is able! He brought
me out ob de cruel days ob slabery, an' He's dun took
keer ob me ebber sence. Sing me a song, chillen, one
ob dem good ole fashioned meetin' songs. [They sing
some Jubilee melody in which Aunt S. joins.]
James.—Well, Vesta, we must go. When do you
start, Aunt Savannah?
Aunt S.—Not fo' nex' Thursday.
Vesta.—Where does your daughter live?
Aunt S.—Let me see, camel, elephant, geeraff,
somewhar in New York.
Vesta.—[Laughing.] I guess you mean Buffalo,
Aunt Savannah.
Aunt S.—Dat's it zackly. Nuffin lak habin' edifica¬
tion. Ef I had yo' edification, Vesta, I wouldn't stay
heah nor no whar else.
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
9
James.—Good night. We'll see you before you
start.
Chas. S.—I must go too. Good night.
Aunt S.—Good night, chillen. [Another rap is
heard.]
Aunt S.—Cum. [Enter Elder Jonah, attired in a
well-zvorn clergyman's suit, battered stovepipe hat.
Walks as if a little lame, using a cane.]
Elder Jonah.—Good evening, Miss Peabody, how
does de wedder progress you dis aternoon?
Aunt S.—Only tolable, tolable, only. Hab a cheer,
Elder Jonah. What am de lates' news ob 'Possum
Holler ?
Elder Jonah.—De lates' news am dat you'se gwine
ter tek yo' depa'ture frum us, en it hab flustrated de
action ob my heart so dat I ain't bin able to partake
ob my reg'lar repas'.
Aunt S.—O g'long, Elder Jonah, g'long.
Elder Jonah.—I thought I'd drap in dis aternoon en
lebe yo' a little token ob my unadulterated affeckshun.
Aunt S.—What am it?
Elder Jonah.—[Producing a parcel zvrapped in a
brown paper and tied with cord.] Hit am sum ob de
fines' terbacker dat is growed in de State ob Georgy,
en knowin' dat yo' had a slight presentiment fur de
weed, I brung it ober.
Aunt S.—[With evident hesitation.] Dat may
hab bin de case in de pas', but my darter am a dress¬
maker, en bof ob my gran'chillen dun bin graduated
10 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
'long 'side ob de riches' white chilleri in de Norf, en
I don' spose to go dar a'disgracin' ob dem by smokin';
'sides dat, my neice, Cinthy Ann Jones, dat went Norf
wid de white fo'ks, tells me dat de cullud peeple puts
on lots ob style. Dey has carpets on de flo', lace cur¬
tains at de winders, organs en pranners, en do' bells
on de do.' Yes, en my darter Ella says dat sum ob de
cullud fo'ks has 'vanced so far dat dey hires white
hep to do de work. Aint dat scumptous?
Elder Jonah.—Scrumptous sartin. De cullud fo'ks
am sartinly cuming.
Aunt S.—Sho, dey ain't cumin', dey dun cum.
Elder Jonah.—See heah, Savannah, I'se bin terrubul
'sturbed sence I heerd you'se gwine lebe. Can't I
'swade yo' ter cum back ater yo' seen yo' darter? Why
can't yo' en me hitch up? Yo' knowed Almiry, fust
wife; yo' knowed Betsy, yo' knowed Lizy, Susan, Jane
en Hannah, en yo' know I put dem all erway hansum.
All de chillen dun growed up outen de way,-en de
littel cabin in de lane am lonely. What do yo' say,
Savannah ?
Aunt S.—in marked wrath.] Elder Jonah,
I hab de greates' respeck fur preachers in dere places,
but ef yo' cum heah to cote, yo' might as well go, caze
I made up my mine twenty yeahs ago, when Gawge
Washin'on Peabody died, dat I'd nebber marry agin.
Does yo' realize dat I'se turn'd sixty? Dar's no fool
lak a ole fool, I'se offen heerd, en I belebes it.
Elder Jonah.—All rite, Miss Peabody, no 'fence
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM n
'tended, ma'am, no 'fence. I'll call agin. Good day.
[Elder Jonah makes an old-fashioned courtesy and
departs. Curtain falls. Music.}
ACT II.
Scene i.— [Midnight in the woods. A censer of alcohol burn¬
ing in the centre of a group of masked women and men in
white or black robes with Babette in the centre. The
Voodoo spirit glides in and all prostrate themselves.]
12
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
ACT III. '
Scene i.— [Same as at first. Aunt S. dressed for her depart¬
ure.]
Aunt S.—In spite ob all dat's cum en gone, 1
hates to lebe dis ole cabin. 'Peers lak hit am de
sweetes' spot on de face ob de 'hole erf. Ef Ella
would only cum heah en lib how happy I'd be; but
den, she's bin bro't up in de Norf, en she says she
cudn't cum Souf en take what we takes dat stays. I
know sum ob us has it purty ruff in dis lan' ob free-
dum. We has a mighty po' sho' in sum respecks, yet
sum ob de cullud fo'ks doin' mighty well down heah in
de Souf. Any how it mos' breaks my heart ter go, but
I mus'. I'se gwine too. I ain't gwine tell dem chil-
lens dat I'se got nine hundred dollars in de bank en
gwine to git three hundred mo' fer dis cabin en de lan'
its on. Ef dey lubs me, et gwine ter be fer what I is,
not fer what I'se got. Ef eberything turns out lak I
hopes it will, I's gwine 'vide dat money 'tween Ella en
de chillen; ef dey don', I'se gwine cum back heah
en spen' de res' ob my days.
[Voices outside sing, "Get you ready, there's a
meeting here tonight" and Elder Jonah, Babette,
Vesta and James Harris, Chas. Sumner, Babette's
Grandchildren, the Georgia Quartette, and remainder
of the company, dressed very plainly, come ladened
with bundles.]
Aunt S.—Glory en onner, what duz all dis mean?
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM 13
Chas. S.—Take this seat, Aunt Savannah, and I will
tell you.
[Aunt S. sits in the centre of room.]
Chas. S.—It means, Aunt Savannah, that a few of
your friends whom you have helped in so many ways,
have come to cheer your heart by humble gifts. May
your Northern life be one of joy. Tell your friends
in the North that as they boast of their greater free¬
dom and larger opportunities, we of the Southland
expect to hear of greater advancement than we are
able to make. Tell them we are planting churches and
school houses on every hilltop, and that we are filling
the valleys with banks, groceries and other places of
business. In spite of our ostracism, we are gaining
ground and look forward to a bright future. On be¬
half of my friends and myself, I present you with this
watch, which we trust you will wear in remembrance
of us.
Aunt S.—[Takes ivatch.] Well, ef dis ain't de out-
dunes' s'prise I ebber saw in all my bo'n days. T'ank
you, sah. [Each advances and presents gifts. The
children bring flowers.] I 'clare I dunno what ter say,
chillen, I hates to lebe wus'n eber now. T'ank yo"
fer dese presents; in de 'hole roun' worl' I no dey
ain't a finer set ob cullud peeple dan dere is in 'Possum
Holler. [Georgia Quartette sings, and whole com¬
pany join in singing, "Good-Bye, My Dear Old South¬
ern Home."] (Curtain.)
Music, Swannee River, with variations.
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
ACT III.
Scene 2.— [A tasteful sitting room at Graves'. Ella Graves, a
matron of forty-two, sewing. Winona Graves at the
piano. Marie Plummer examining new music. Robert
Graves studying law.]
Mrs. Graves.—How long before train time, Robert?
Robert.—Two hours yet, if she comes in on the
Erie road. Try to have patience, mother.
Mrs. G.—I have waited so long, Robert. Forty
years have passed over my head since I looked into
mother's face.
Winona.—[Aside to Marie.] I am awfully sorry
she is coming. It will be such a nuisance to have
such an old handkerchief head, as grandmother is
sure to be, always around in the way. Besides we
have so little room. I don't know where she will
sleep.
Marie.—[Aside.] It is just too horrid for any¬
thing. [Aloud.] Where will your mother sleep, Mrs.
Graves ?
Mrs. G.—She will have to share Winona's room
for the present, as mine is too small.
Winona.—Oh, horrors! [Door bell rinos: Winona
admits Tony Plummer.]
Tony.—Good evening. I hope I find you all well.
What, Robert, poring over a book as usual? Bah,
it makes my head ache to look at a book.
Winona.—Yes, Robert is a perfect nuisance. He
just reads all the time, and such stupid, dry books!
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
IS
The books that I like, such as, "The Outlaw's Bride,"
and "The Fatal Marriage," he won't even look at.
Robert.—I can't afford to fill, my mind with such
trash. I have an object in life. I look forward to
the day when "Robert Graves, Attorney-at-Law," shall
swing in the breeze, and mother's mortgage shall be
a thing of the past.
Tony.—What!
Winona.—Yes, it is the dream of Robert's life to be
a lawyer. Massman, for whom he worked so long,
promised to take him into his office, but, as you know,
Lawyer Massman died quite suddenly, and Robert's
hopes were blighted.
Tony.—[Tragically.] What's the use of a colored
man trying to be anything or do anything in this coun¬
try? This is the white man's country and everything
in it is his. Over the doorway of every honorable pro¬
fession he has written in letters of fire "No Negroes
Need Apply." You find prejudice against the Negro
in the theatres and hotels, on the railroads of the
South, and, yes, even in churches. A black face shuts
you from everything but the menial drudgery that the
white man does not care to perform. I had some sort
of a silly notion of being an artist once, and I was
patted on the back by my whitd professor and told
that my work gave promise of great' things, but when
I applied for aid, I was offered a position as cook in
the Artists' Club, and I accepted. There's no use
trying, I tell you.
j6 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Robert.— But I say there is use in trying.
What would Benjamin Banneker. the black astrono¬
mer ; Toussaint L'Overture, the hero of Hayti; Rich¬
ard Allen, the founder of the A. M. E. Church; Fred¬
erick Douglass, the orator, and Daniel Payne, the
friend of Negro education, have accomplished with¬
out making a brave struggle to rise against the dis¬
astrous wave of prejudice. I care not if it be true, that
"No Negro Need Apply" be written over the door of
every profession, there are Negroes of genius who will
not stop until they have reached the top of the ladder.
It will be. in the Negro's case as in the case of the peo¬
ple who have preceded him—a survival of the fittest.
Winona.—I'm like Mr. Plummer. When I gradu¬
ated from the High School I tried to get a school, just
as my white classmates did, but the authorities inform¬
ed me that if I wanted to teach school I would
have to go South; then I applied for a clerkship, but
the proprietors said that all of the girls would leave if
the firm employed a colored girl, so I gave up the
struggle and concluded to enjoy life as best I could
in the depths of which my color had consigned me.
Marie.—As this seems to have developed into an
experience meeting, I'll give my testimony. When I
finished school, several of my girl friends entered the
business college and learned to be bookkeepers and
stenographers; well, I saved up and took both courses,
but, just as Winona says, I found no one brave enough
to employ a colored girl. Some have given me job
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
17
work, but 110 one would take me into an office on ac¬
count of this hateful American prejudice that some¬
times makes me wish that I was anything but an Amer¬
ican. No use trying to be anything in this country.
Mrs. G.—Do not despair, children; there's a bet¬
ter day coming. Rome was not build in a day.
Robert.—If you go in to win, you'll win, but you
must have grit and determination if you keep step with
the Caucasian race. [Door bell rings. Winona admits
Lucille Woodbury.]
Lucifle.—Robert, Mrs. Gravfts, all of you, I have
received such good news today that I ran over to share
it with you at once. I haye been elected as teacher of
the seventh grade at No. 2. My Principal says that
I passed the highest examination of any of the appli¬
cants. He says he is personally acquainted with Afro-
American teachers in New York, Brooklyn, Boston
and Chicago, who are doing a similar work in the mix¬
ed schools, and he is glad that I shall have an oppor¬
tunity to prove what I can do. This hour more than
repays me for my years of toilsome drudgery. Excuse
me, friends, these are tears of joy. [Wipes eyes.]
There is not an Afro-American child in attendance at
No. 2. Who says American prejudice is not dying?
Shall this not inspire me to do my best and thus prove
to the Board that the Negro blood which flows in my
veins does not lower the standard of the instruction I
shall give ? It shall, I am determined to succeed!
18 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Robert.—Hurrah for our new school marm! [All
clap hands. Door bell rings loudly.]
Mrs. G.—[Looking at her watch."] It's five minutes
past train time, Robert! What if that should be your
grandmother and no one to meet her. [Winona admits
Aunt 5.]
Mrs. G.—Thank heaven! At last! [Attempts to
embrace Aunt S.} and faints.] Curtain falls. Music,
"Old Black Joe," with variations.
ACT III.
Scene 3.—[Sitting-room at Graves'. Winona in evening
dress. Enter Tony Plummer dressed in exquisite taste.]
Tony.—What, waiting, Winona? Oh, you are in¬
deed charming this evening. Of all the girls at the
reception tonight, you will be the sweetest. To think
that I shall have the pleasure of escorting the belle of
the city.
Winona.—Tony, stop your nonsense. Suppose you
rehearse that song you are going to sing in the con¬
cert while we wait for Marie.
Tony.—All right; anything to please the girls. [Wi¬
nona hands him the music. Tony sings.] Solo.
Winona.—Isn't that sweet?
Tony.—Not half so sweet as you are Winona. Say,
Winona, I ask you for the forty-fifth time, will you
marry me? I earn a good salary, and you shall have
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
19
everything heart can wish; go to all the theatres and
balls you like, and be the gayest of the gay. I know
you must be sick and tired of this stupid life you now
live, with your folks always scolding because you are
young and like to have a good time.
Winona.—Yes, I do get tired of it. I sew all day,,
and then at night if I want to have a bit of fun, I get
a lecture. Yes, I'll have you, Tony.
Tony.-—[Taking her hand and attempting to kiss
her.] JBut do you love me, Winona? I love you madly,
passionately.
Winona.—Why, yes, I suppose I do, but I do not
want you to kiss me just yet; wait until I get accus¬
tomed to the idea.
Tony.—Perhaps this little gift will enable you to
realize it more quickly. [Pulls out a diamond ring
and places it on her finger.]
Winona.—Just what I have longed for all my life J
How the girls will envy me! What a perfectly mag¬
nificent ring. You deserve a dozen kisses. Curtain.
Music.
ACT III.
Scene 4.—[Sitting-room at Graves'. Table in centre. Mrs*
Graves and Aunt Savannah sewing; enter Lucille Wood¬
bury.]
Lucille.—Good evening, how are you both?
Mrs. G.—Quite well, thank you, Lucille. Sit down.
20 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Lucille.—Well, Aunt Savannah, how do you like
the North by this time?
Aunt S.—Fust strate, chile, fust strate. Dar's lots
ob difference in de two places, dat's sartin. I hain't
hed a 'spectable sweet tater nor watermillion sence I
lef' de State ob Georgv; but den, tak' hit all togedder,
de Norf am de bes' place fur we po' cullud fo'ks.
More free an'—up heah.
Lucille.—1Laughing.] More free an'—Aunt Sa¬
vannah, you have such an amusing way of stating
things. Mrs. Graves, did Robert succeed in getting
into Lawy6r Graham's office?
Mrs. G.—No, Lawyer Graham told him that he
could giv« him a job as coachman, but as for prac¬
ticing law in his office, it was out of the question.
Lucille.—And yet, Lawyer Graham is called the
colored man's friend, and when he wants office he
never fails to solicit the colored man's vote.
Aunt S.—What Lawyer Graham is yo' all talkin'
'bout ? I used to know a Lawyer tjraham 'way down
in Georgy.
Mrs. G.—I think this one moved here from the
South since you came. He and his wife are both law¬
yers. I sew for his wife.
Aunt S.—Hab dey eny chillen? I mos' sho I knows
'em. [Aside.] Aunt Savannah's gwine pay Lawyer
Graham a visit. Won't take my gran'son in his office
caze he's black. Well, we'll see.
Mrs. G.—Poor Robert, I feel sorry for him; he
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
works all day in the blacksmith shoo, and at night he
sits up and pores over his studies until past midnight
Everyone says he is talented, but no one seems will¬
ing to give him a chance. It's so hard. I have strug¬
gled so long and so hard to educate my children, and
now that they are educated the white people seem to
think that they are »fit only for hewers of wood and
drawers of water. Then, too, our mortgage falls due
in one month and not a cent to pay on it. I economize
in every way, but—[Sobs, and lays her head on the
table.]
Lucille.-—Dear Mrs. Graves, don't cry, something
will turn up in your favor. I'm sure.
Aunt S.—!sro; don't cry, Ella, you'se gwine cum out
at de big en' ob de horn. Jes put yo' trus' in de good
Lawd. Yo' ole mammy am needer a fortune teller
nor a prophet, but she proph'sies dat dat mortgage
gwine be lifted fo' de time, en Lawyer Graham gwine
change his mine.
Lucille.—Oh, kind heaven, grant that your prophecy
may come true! Now come downstairs and see what
a nice cake I have baked in honor of Aunt Savannah's
first anniversary with us.
Aunt S.—Laws a' massey! Has I bin heah a yeah ?
Le's go down en see what kin' ob a cook Lucille am.
[Enter Robert, who walks agitatedly up and down the
floor.]
Robert.—Almost I am persuaded to give up this un¬
equal struggle. I started out bouyant and hopeful to
get into the office of some able lawyer, but I have
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
been repulsed so many times that I have almost come
to Tony's conclusion that there is no use trying. What
chance have I with a black face and an empty purse
to reach the goal for which I seek? But I will not
despair.
"Lives of great men oft remind us,
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time."
Since my color is my misfortune. I will wear it
worthily. Milton wrote his masterpiece after the
world had become dark to him. No victory without
arms. Oh, those who cruelly thrust the Negro aside
on account of his color do not know how painful are
the wounds that are inflicted by the poisoned arrows
of prejudice. [Enter Lucille.]
Lucille.—Robert, I have come to ask a favor of
you. Here is a hundred dollars of my salary that I
have saved, and I want you to take it and pay on that
hateful mortgage that is breaking your mother's heart.
Do not let her know until it is done. Here is the
money.
Robert.—No, no, Lucille, bless vour womanly heart,
I would rather bestow a kingdom upon you than to
take one penny of your hard-earned salary.
Lucille.—[Aside.] And I would rather reign over
his good, kind heart than reign over the richest king¬
dom on earth. [Aloud.] But, I insist upon it, Robert.
I shall never know a moment's peace until it is done.
Robert.—Is it possible that you, too, are hardened
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
23
by the weight of that fatal mortgage? Are you so
fond of my mother, Lucille?
Lucille.—Why shouldn't I be? She has been just
like a mother to me ever since mine died.
Robert.—[Drawing near.] And I have been just
like a brother to you, but if I were in better circum¬
stances I would ask to be admitted into a closer re¬
lation.
Lucille.—[ T enderly.] Coward!
Robert.—[Drawing her to him.] Who's a coward?
Darling, will you be my wife some sweet day, when
I am able to take care of you? Can it be possible that
I have won the priceless jewel of your love?
Lucille.—Yes, if you grant my request.
Robert.—I'm the luckiest fellow in the world. Suc¬
ceed! Of course, I will succeed with the thought of
claiming you to inspire me. I will run through troops
and leap walls for your dear sake. (Curtain. Music.)
ACT IV.
Scene i.—[Interior of Lawyer Graham's office. Caesar dust¬
ing chairs; Lawyer Graham at desk. A knock. Caesar
goes to door.]
Caesar.—A lady at de do', Lawyer Graham.
Lawyer Graham.—Show her in.
Caesar.—Cum in. Law me, if it ain't—
Aunt S.—Sh. Sh.
24 THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Lawyer Graham.—Well, my good woman, what can
I do for you this morning?
Aunt S.—Well, thar's sev'ral t'ings Lawyer Graham
kin do fer me, ef he's min' to. Does yo' rechermem-
ber who I is?
Lawyer G.—Well, bless me, if it isn't Aunt Sa¬
vannah. [Rises and shakes her hand.] Caesar, bring
her a rocker. There now, sit down, and tell me where
you came from. You gave me the wrong address and
I lost track of you. Are you getting along all right?
Aunt S.—I jes cum frum my darter's, Ella Graves
is her name. She sews fer yo' wife.
Lawyer G.—Is she your daughter ? Well, I know
you are proud of her, for she is a splendid woman.
Aunt S.—I sartinly is, but yo' axed me how I's get¬
ting ,'long. I ain't getting 'long 'tall; I's mos' worried
to def. I's jes' stedied till I's mos' heartbroken.
Lawyer G.—Worried to death? Heartbroken?
What do you mean, Aunt Savannah?
Aunt S.—I means dat yo' ain't treatin' my fo'ks
rite. W'at did yo' promise me, Lawyer Graham,
when I nussed yo' chile through de yellah feber, ater
de doctah dun gib her up?
Lawyer Graham.—I told you that whenever you
wanted me to do you a favor, not to hesitate a moment,
if it was to give you a check for a thousand dollars,
and I mean it.
Aunt S.—Well, den I want yo' to take my gran'son,
Robert Graves, into yo' office, so's he kin l'arn to be a
lawyer same's any white boy.
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
25
Lawyer G.— [Laughing.] Yes, Aunt Savannah, but
you see, there's so much prejudice against the colored
men entering the profession. It might injure me.
Aunt S.—Ain't yo' rich's cream? How's de cullud
man eber gwine clim' ober dem two hundad en fifty
yeahs ob fo'ced serbitude, ter edgercate yo' white fo'ks
ef yo' don' he'p him ober?
Lawyer G.—Well, I haven't any serious objections
against taking your grandson myself, but I don't know
what Mrs. Graham would say; we are partners, you
know. [Enter Mrs. Graham in jaunty costume, be¬
fitting the nezu woman.]
Mrs. G.—Mrs. Graham is here to speak for herself.
What is it? I have just got back from Detroit. I won
my case, I've had a good dinner, and I'm in excellent
humor. Don't be afraid to speak out; if you are beg¬
ging for your church, put me down for ten dollars.
Here, Caesar, take my wraps.
Lawyer G.—Mrs. Graham, this is Aunt Savannah,
who saved Lillian's life when she was so ill in Georgia.
Mrs. G.—[Embracing Aunt 5".] I am so glad to
see you. Caesar, take her things; she's going to stay
to dinner. How delighted Lillian will be. She never
tires of talking of Aunt Savannah. She is on her way
nowr. I'll call her. [Goes to the door.] Lillian! Lil¬
lian! Lillian! [From without.] I'm coming, mother,
dear. [Enter.]
Lillian.—O, Caesar, I missed you so much; I
brought you a lovely book.
Lawyer G.—Do you know who this is ?
26
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Lillian.—Oh, if it ain't my darling Aunt Savannah.
[Embraces her.] Did you come to live with us? You
know you said perhaps you would.
Aunt S.—Bless my lam', Aunt Savannah pow'ful
glad to see her chile.
Lawyer G.—Lillian, that tall young man who has
been haunting my office for the past three weeks is
Aunt Savannah's grandson. She wants me to take him
into my office so he can complete his law studies. I
will leave it to you and mamma to decide. What do
you say?
Lillian.—[Throwing her arms about Lawyer G's
neck.] Oh, take him, papa; give him a chance for
Aunt Savannah's sake.
Lawyer G.—What do you say, Mrs. Graham?
Mrs. G.—Is there anything in him? I don't want to
offend you, Aunt Savannah, but young people some¬
times mistake inclination for talent. The profession
of law, like other professions, means hard work. There
is no royal road to success. I have helped colored
girls through school and am willing to extend a help¬
ing hand to your grandson. If taking him into our of¬
fice will help him most, I am willing to do that, if Law¬
yer Graham thinks it's expedient.
Lawyer G.—Robert Graves is really a fine young
man, my dear; well educated, studious, courteous and
refined. He is very deserving. Altogether, there's
nothing against him, except his color.
Aunt S.—Dat's all; dar's not'in' agin him 'cept his
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM 27
color, en his fo'parents brought dat long ago frum
Africa wid em', en couldn't never git rid of it.
Mrs. G.—Then I say, take him. What if I had edu¬
cated my children by hard work and every avenue of
success was closed in their faces because of their race,
how dreadful would it be. We open our doors to the
Jew, the Irishman, the Chinaman, Indian, Russian,
German and every nation on the globe, and why should
we be so hostile to this peaceful, industrious people
who are striving so earnestly to rise. Aunt Savannah,
I will do everything within my power to aid your
grandson.
Lawyer G.—History contains no record of any race
of people who have made the progress that these peo¬
ple have made since Abraham Lincoln issued that im¬
mortal document known as the "Emancipation Procla¬
mation." Thirty years ago ignorant slaves enriching
the soil of the sunny South by their labor, deprived of
homes, of wealth, of education, in fact, deprived of
everything that is essential to the life of a civilized
man, and today able to boast of an orator like Fred¬
erick Douglass, educators like Daniel A. Payne and
Booker T. Washington, ministers of the gospel like
Richard Allen, legislators like Benjamin W. Arnett, to
say nothing of their artists like Henrv O. Tanner, as
well as their poets like Paul Laurence Dunbar, and in¬
ventors. It is wonderful. Had I not wilfully closed
my eyes to these, no doubt I should have accepted Rob¬
ert at once.
Mrs. G.—You forget to mention that this race has
28
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
also made their way into law and medicine; Judge
Straker, of Michigan, and Lawyer Waring, of Mary¬
land, are lights in the legal profession; and Dr. Mc-
Kinney, of New York; Dr. Williams, of Chicago; Dr.
N. F. Mossell, of Philadelphia, and Dr. Purvis, of
Washington, are succeeding in medical lines.
Aunt S.—Caesar, gimme my hat. You'll hab to
'scuse me terday. I'se gwine home to spread de joyful
news, 'peers lak my ole heart mos' bustin' wif joy; dis
am de day my po' fader en modder prayed fer down
in de cotton fields ob Georgy. Dey's fou't de good fite
en gone on to glory, en dere pray'r is bein' ans'erd.
Goodbye, may de Lawd bless yo' en yorn fer de kine
words yo' has spoken.
Lawyer G.—Tell Robert he may come up at once.
Caesar.—[Attempting a somersault.] Golly, I gwine
be sumpin myse'f. I don' belebe I'se got brain enuf
to be a lawyer; guess I'll look to'ard de legislatu'. Cur¬
tain. Music.
ACT IV.
Scene 2.—[Street. Aunt Savannah hurrying home encount¬
ers Elder Jonah on the street corner dressed in new
Prince Albert suit, cane and telescope.]
Elder J.—Good aternoon, Mrs. Peabody, how does
yo' comporosity seem ta gassiate dis aternoon?
Aunt S.—Why, law me, Elder Jonah, what yo' doin'
heah? I tho't you's a thousand mille frum heah.
Elder J.—Sho I'se cum to lib heah. Gwine to start
THIRTY.YEARS OF FREEDOM
a little canny sto' on de corner whar I kin see yo*
ebery time yo' pass, en I'se gwine keep pesterin' yo' till
yo' says "yess."
Aunt S.—O g'long, Elder Jonah, g'long. How did
yo' lebe all de fo'ks ?
Elder J.—Lef' 'em well. Jim Harris dun made his
fo'tune curin' sum rich white 'oman dat de odder doc-
tahs gib up, en he en Vesta married en libin' on de fat
o' de pot. Charles Sumner gradgerated frum college
en got one ob de bigges' churches in Georev. Dey all
sen' lub en Charlie say he gwine cum up heah en cote
yo' gran'darter sence he saw de picksture yo' sent
Vesta.
Aunt S.—Well, ef dem cullud fo'ks ain't fly in' dere
kite high, I'll gib up. What's Babette doin'?
Elder J.—Diggin' conjeration roots en throwin' dus*
in sum po' ignorant pusson's eyes as usual. Lawd, how
skeered dem cullud fo'ks is ob Babette. Savannah, am
dere eny chance fer me?
Aunt S.—Law me, Elder Jonah, I'se got so many
free 'sponsibilities on my mine dat I couldn't tawk ob
sech a thing. My gran'son gwine to be a law'er en
I's nussen gittin' $10.00 a week. I ain't got no cause
ter marry.
Elder J.—I see you's jes es hard-hearted es eber*
Well, will yo' 'cept ob a fine Georgy watahmillion dat
Iv dun brung fer yo'.
Aunt S.—A Georgy million, cos I 'cepts ob it; I
'clar' I feels 'bliged to yo'.
Elder J.—[Grins zvith joy.] Well den, I'll walk fui
30
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
es yo' domicile en lebe it. [Aside.] Yo' fish won't
bite one kine ob bait, put on anoder kine.
(Curtain. Elder Jonah sings.)
ACT IV.
Scene 3.—Sitting-room at Mrs. Graves'.
Mrs. G.—[Walking the floor ivith a letter in her
hand.] Will troubles never end. Winona, my heart's
idol, says in this letter that she has gone off to be mar¬
ried to that reckless Tony Plummer. Robert has gone
in search of her and should he and Robert meet there
will be trouble. Oh, I pray heaven no harm will be¬
fall my darling child. And then today the mortgage
falls due. It seems that my heart will break. Mother
is the only one who seems cheerful and I suppose she
holds up for our sake. Let come what will, Robert
and I have determined to provide her a home as long as
she lives. [Enter Robert almost breathless with ex¬
citement.] Robert, have you found mv child?
Robert.—No, I have not, mother, but I have placed
the matter in the hands of a detective and I will renew
my own search as soon as I have acquainted you with a
strange piece of news. Grandmother has interceded
with Lawyer Graham and secured me the position 1
so longed for, and Mrs. Graham thinks of employing
Marie Plummer as her private secretary.
Mrs. G.—Your grandmother! How in the world
could she influence Lawyer Graham to do such a
thing?
THIRTV YEA&S OF FREEDOM
31
Robert.—Grandmother was Lawyer Graham's marii-
my or foster mother; grandmother has known him
for years, and upon one occasion saved the life of his
only child, Lillian. Lawyer Graham says he can deny
her nothing; grandmother came home yesterday with
the intention of telling you, but you were gone and soon
after she was called away to see after a patient.
Mrs. G.—Wonderful, wonderful; now if my mind
were only at ease about Winona, I believe the mortgage
foreclosure would cease to worry me.
[Enter Winona, followed by Aunt Savannah, Lucille
and Elder Jonah.]
Winona.—[Falling at her mother's feet.] Oh, moth¬
er, forgive me, I have been so ungrateful; from hence¬
forth, mother, I will endeavor to be as good a daughter
as Robert is a son.
Robert.—Did Plummer dare to wrong you? If he
has his life shall pay the forfeit.
Aunt S.—[Laying her hand on Robert's arm.] Don'
be hasty, young man; Winona's alright; Lucille en
me's kep trac' ob her eber sence she lef' de house. She
en Tony did go befo' de justis ob de peace to be mar¬
ried, but while dey's waiting fer him to cum in de po¬
lice cum in ater dat diamont ring Tony had gib her. Jes
€s it happen' Tony had dat ring in his ves' pocket, else
Winona might o' bin took up fer stealin'. I know Wi¬
nona's alius bin 'shamed ob her ole Georgy gran'moth-
€r, but she'll lib ter thank me yit fer sabin' her frum
marryin' dat bundle ob tailor's clo'es wid no mo' prin¬
ciple 'bout him dan a rat.
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM
Elder J.—Dese youn'itr'ks don' git nufif strop lie;
str6p ilc's what dey'needs.
Winona.—[■Rwifl#.)1 Oh, grandmother, I tharik you
now. I plainly see I never loved him. I was only daz¬
zled by' his manners and sweet words. I feel as if
grandmother's hind had pulled me back from the brink
of an awful precipice.
[Enter Marie Crying.]
Marie.—My poor brother has been arrested. It was
all Winona's fault; she was always wishing for a dia¬
mond ring and Tony could deny her nothing. Mrs.
Graham promised to make me her secretary, and now
our family is disgraced forever. Oh, what shall I do ?
Lucille.—Be composed, Marie. Mrs. Graham knows
all about it. She does not condemn you for Tony's
crime.
Aunt S.—Chillens, it's a hard lesson, but one bof ob
yo' gals needed. I ain't got no edification to speak, do
I kin read en scratch a little wid de pen, but I has alius
foun' dis to be true, dat de youn' fo'ks, bof black en
white, dat spen's dey precious hours readin' dese trashy
books dey calls nobels, en frequen'in' wine rooms,
dancin' halls en gamblen dens, en dressin' finer dan
dey kin 'ford, neber cums to no good en'. Yo' yoUn*
fo'ks has all de chance in de worl' to be useful men en
women, en I want yo' to spread yo' wings en see how
yo' kin fly, caze de hope ob de cullud race lies in dis
youn' generashun.
Elder J.—Mrs. Peabody, you'se a'cumin'; I couldn't
sed dat bettah mysef'.
THIRTY YEARS OF FREEDOM 33
Lucille.—Aunt Savannah, your words have the
sownd of true wisdom. Winona as a dressmaker, Rob¬
ert as a lawyer, Marie as a stenographer, and myself
as a school teacher, will prove to the world that we are
going onward and upward. [A knock is heard and
Winona admits Lawyer Graham with papers in haridt\
Lawyer Graham.—Good morning, Aunt Savannah,
I have good news for you; part of it is, that this being
Tony Plummer's first offense, and Mrs. Berry refusing
to prosecute him, he will get a very light sentence. The
other part is, I have secured you a pension of $io.o&
a month and a thousand dollars back pension; this, with
the money you have out at interest, makes you worth
in the neighborhood of $2,000.
Aunt S.—[Clapping her hands.] Glory en onner.
I jes wonder'd ef I's gwine hab 'nuff fer dese chillen
without strappin' myse'f, glory en onner.
Elder J.—[Aside.] No chance fo'/lis darkey now.
Mrs. G.—Why, mother, I didn't know that you had
a cent of money except what you earned nursing; why
didn't you tell me ?
Aunt S.—Wanted to s'prise yo', dat's why; don'
belebe en tellin' yo' insides no how. Lawyer Graham,
write Ella out a check for $500 so she kin pay off dis
mor'gage en build de house ober in King Anne style
that Winona's alius ta'kin' 'bout, en gib Robert en Wi¬
nona each a hundred dollars, en write out a check fer
de hundred dollars dat Lucille len' Robert to pay on de
mor'gage.
Lucille.—[Blushing.] Robert, who toM her?
34
THIRTY. .YEARS OF FREEDOM
Aunt S.—Foun' out myse'f. I'se a new 'oman lak
Mrs. Graham. Marie, I'se gwine present yo' wid one
o' dem pranners yo' write letters on, bein' you' en
Winona's sech fren[s, en I spects to heah ob yo' makin'
a fine 'oman ob yo'se'f; en when eny ob yo' marry I'sie
gwine he'p yo' all I kin. Glory en onner, dis am a proud
hour ter me.
Mrs. G.—Saved! Saved! My home and my child.
[Cries.]
Lawyer G.—Excuse me, good day. [Exit Lazvyer
Graham.]
Robert.—Grandmother, you have acted the part of a
good angel in our home. You have made the best
possible use of your Thirty Years of Freedom. May
we profit by your example and prove alike to enemies
and friends that we are as worthy of freedom as any
race of people on God's green globe, and that, though
surrounded by ostracism, we will continue to educate,
to accumulate wealth, to cultivate the principles of mo¬
rality and to worship the God who hath delivered us
from bondage until all men everywhere shall know that
Ethiopia hath stretched forth her hand unto God!
Elder J.—Amen.
Curtain. Tableaux.
TABLEAU.
Robert and Lucille before Rev. Charles S. Wayman; Winona
and Marie, Maids of Honor;' Elder Jonah, Aunt
Savannah, Mrs. Graves, Vesta Carroll, Dr. Harris, Bab-
ette, Lawyer Graham, Mrs. Graham and Lillian, all in¬
terested spectators. A wedding march is played very
softly. Colored light. Curtain-
Robert W. Woodruff
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EMORY UNIVERSITY
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