That Little ‘Nigger’ Boy I Used To Own

A poem that depicts the enduring relationship between a "colored" man and his former owner. The poem reveals the romanticism white Southerners held for slavery.

While our people object to the use of the term “nigger,” still the sentiment contained in these lines written by Mr. Howell C. Featherston, over-balances the objection and we note with pleasure the heartfelt love felt for “That happy smiling boy I used to own.” The father of the author is now a member of the Virginia Legislature from Campbell Co.
I have met a heap of people, and I’ve
had a heap o’ chums—
good fellows, just as good as ever known!
But I’ve never seen a better, nor a
truer, kinder friend
Than that little ‘nigger’ boy I used to own.
His hid was black as charcoal, and
his heart was just as warm;
He wasn't a great philosopher, but
never thought no harm;
And tho' to flatter childhood mankind
is awful prone. 'Twas a cunning little devil that I
to boss and own.
There are lots of pickaninnies 'round
my old plantation home.
But Alec, he belonged to me alone.
He could outrun all the others, and
he'd fight an' lie for me.
And I loved that nigger boy I used
to own.
His head was round and nappy and his
eyes were big and white;
His mouth was quite capacious, and
it let in lots of light.
But, tho' he wasn't a beauty, nor a
plate for style and tone,
The love was true and honest of that boy I used to own.
We were playmates altogether, tho' I was kind of king.
But I never put myself up on a
throne:
And I told tales in the hoghouse and I
waded in the branch,
With that little 'nigger' boy I used to
own.
It's true we'd get to fightin', and I'd
lick 'em, if I could;
But this was rather seldom,
for they generally were good;
And I'd swap 'em off my dinner for an
ashcan and a bone.
And I'd take my midday repast with
that boy I used to own.
And then I grew up bigger and I used
to ride to school,
Through meadows, where the rice
and cane were sown;
And he'd take my horse at even, and
he'd love to see me come,
That happy, smilin' boy I used to
own.
He would steal watermelon, but no
one didn't mind ;
They knew he couldn't help it;
'twas the nature of his kind ;
And when in gaudy brilliance the au-
tumn full moon shone,
I'd hunt the cunning 'possum, with
that boy I used to own.
But my schoolin' wasn't finished, for
before I was sixteen,
The trumpet call to war was loudly
blown;
And I volunteered by service and I
hastened to the front,
And was followed by that boy I used
to own.
He would get scared in battle, and,
dam' 'im how he'd run!
But he'd always find the comp'ny when
the soldier's work was done;
An' he'd steal good rations for me,
tho' from whence I've never
known.
And l've off been saved my supper
by the boy I used to own.
The war was long and bitter, but his
ardor never flagged;
He kept the oath to follow me he'd
sworn:
An' when it was all over, I brought
him home again.
That shiny, grinnin' boy I used to
own.
He would lie 'bout the battles, an' he
swore he'd fooght 'em all;
He said he'd killed some sixteen
men, he knew he'd seen 'em
fall;
But he took a fatal fever, which no
skill could check nor tone,
And I nursed him like a brother then,
that boy I used to own.
But soon it was all over, and we laid
him in his grave.
No truer friend l've ever had to
mourn;
And I raised a granite monument to
mark the place we laid
That loving faithful boy I used to own.
He had his small shortcomings, and
they may be counted sin ;
But Saint Peter knows a 'nigger', and
he'll make excuse for him!
And if, in God's great goodness, I shall
view sweet heaven's throne,
I know I'll see that smilin' face, that
boy I used to own.
I have met a heap o' people, and I've
had a heap o' chums—,
Good fellows, just as good as ever
known!
But l've never seen a better, nor a
truer, kinder friend Than that little 'nigger' boy I
used to own.
His hide was black as charcoal, and his
heart was just as warm;
He wasn't a great philosopher, but
never thought no harm;
And tho' to flutter childhood mankind
is a ??? prone.
I love the recollections of that boy I used to own.
Howell C. Featherston.

“That Little ‘Nigger’ Boy I Used To Own,” Black Virginia: The Richmond Planet, 1894-1909, accessed February 19, 2026, https://blackvirginia.richmond.edu/items/show/107.