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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery
+in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves
+       Texas Narratives, Part 1
+
+Author: Work Projects Administration
+
+Release Date: December 2, 2009 [EBook #30576]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES--TEXAS, PART 1 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
+generously made available by the Library of Congress,
+Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+|                                                              |
+| Transcriber's Note:                                          |
+|                                                              |
+| I. Inconsistent punctuation has been silently corrected      |
+| throughout the book.                                         |
+|                                                              |
+| II. Clear spelling mistakes have been corrected however,     |
+| inconsistent language usage (such as 'day' and 'dey')        |
+| has been maintained. A list of corrections is included       |
+| at the end of the book.                                      |
+|                                                              |
+| III. The numbers at the start of each interview were stamped |
+| into the original work and refer to the number of the        |
+| published interview in the context of the entire Slave       |
+| Narratives project.                                          |
+|                                                              |
+| IV. Two handwritten notes have been retained and are         |
+| annotated as such.                                           |
+|                                                              |
+|                                                              |
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+SLAVE NARRATIVES
+
+
+_A Folk History of Slavery in the United States
+From Interviews with Former Slaves_
+
+
+TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY
+THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT
+1936-1938
+ASSEMBLED BY
+THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT
+WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION
+FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
+SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
+
+
+_Illustrated with Photographs_
+
+
+WASHINGTON 1941
+VOLUME XVI
+
+TEXAS NARRATIVES
+
+PART 1
+
+
+Prepared by
+the Federal Writers' Project of
+the Works Progress Administration
+for the State of Texas
+
+
+
+
+INFORMANTS
+
+
+Adams, Will                             1
+
+Adams, William                          4
+
+Adams, William M.                       9
+
+Allen, Sarah                           12
+
+Anderson, Andy                         14
+
+Anderson, George Washington (Wash)     17
+
+Anderson, Willis                       21
+
+Armstrong, Mary                        25
+
+Arnwine, Stearlin                      31
+
+Ashley, Sarah                          34
+
+
+Babino, Agatha                         37
+
+Barclay, Mrs. John                     39
+
+Barker, John                           42
+
+Barnes, Joe                            45
+
+Barrett, Armstead                      47
+
+Barrett, Harriet                       49
+
+Bates, John                            51
+
+Beckett, Harrison                      54
+
+Bell, Frank                            59
+
+Bell, Virginia                         62
+
+Bendy, Edgar                           66
+
+Bendy, Minerva                         68
+
+Benjamin, Sarah                        70
+
+Bess, Jack                             72
+
+Betts, Ellen                           75
+
+Beverly, Charlotte                     84
+
+Black, Francis                         87
+
+Blanchard, Olivier                     90
+
+Blanks, Julia                          93
+
+Boles, Elvira                         106
+
+Bormer (Bonner), Betty                109
+
+Boyd, Harrison                        112
+
+Boyd, Issabella                       114
+
+Boyd, James                           117
+
+Boykins, Jerry                        121
+
+Brackins, Monroe                      124
+
+Bradshaw, Gus                         130
+
+Brady, Wes                            133
+
+Branch, Jacob                         137
+
+Branch, William                       143
+
+Brim, Clara                           147
+
+Brooks, Sylvester                     149
+
+Broussard, Donaville                  151
+
+Brown, Fannie                         154
+
+Brown, Fred                           156
+
+Brown, James                          160
+
+Brown, Josie                          163
+
+Brown, Zek                            166
+
+Bruin, Madison                        169
+
+Bunton, Martha Spence                 174
+
+Butler, Ellen                         176
+
+Buttler, Henry H.                     179
+
+Byrd, William                         182
+
+
+Cain, Louis                           185
+
+Calhoun, Jeff                         188
+
+Campbell, Simp                        191
+
+Cape, James                           193
+
+Carruthers, Richard                   197
+
+Carter, Cato                          202
+
+Cauthern, Jack                        212
+
+Chambers, Sally Banks                 214
+
+Choice, Jeptha                        217
+
+Clark, Amos                           220
+
+Clark, Anne                           223
+
+Cole, Thomas                          225
+
+Coleman, Eli                          236
+
+Coleman, Preely                       240
+
+Collins, Harriet                      242
+
+Columbus, Andrew (Smoky)              246
+
+Connally, Steve                       249
+
+Cormier, Valmar                       252
+
+Cornish, Laura                        254
+
+Crawford, John                        257
+
+Cumby, Green                          260
+
+Cummins, Tempie                       263
+
+Cunningham, Adeline                   266
+
+
+Daily, Will                           269
+
+Daniels, Julia Francis                273
+
+Darling, Katie                        278
+
+Davenport, Carey                      281
+
+Davis, Campbell                       285
+
+Davis, William                        289
+
+Davison, Eli                          295
+
+Davison, Elige                        298
+
+Day, John                             302
+
+Denson, Nelsen                        305
+
+Duhon, Victor                         307
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                              Facing Page
+Will Adams                              1
+
+William Adams                           4
+
+Mary Armstrong                         25
+
+Sterlin Arnwine                        31
+
+Sarah Ashley                           34
+
+Edgar and Minerva Bendy                66
+
+Jack Bess's House                      72
+
+Jack Bess                              72
+
+Charlotte Beverly                      84
+
+Francis Black                          87
+
+Betty Bormer (Bonner)                 109
+
+Issabella Boyd                        114
+
+James Boyd                            117
+
+Monroe Brackins                       124
+
+Wes Brady                             133
+
+William Branch                        143
+
+Clara Brim                            147
+
+Sylvester Brooks                      149
+
+Donaville Broussard                   151
+
+Fannie Brown                          154
+
+Fred Brown                            156
+
+James Brown                           160
+
+Josie Brown                           163
+
+Zek Brown                             166
+
+Martha Spence Bunton                  174
+
+Ellen Butler                          176
+
+Simp Campbell                         191
+
+James Cape                            193
+
+Cato Carter                           202
+
+Amos Clark's Sorghum Mill             220
+
+Amos Clark                            220
+
+Anne Clark                            223
+
+Preely Coleman                        240
+
+Steve Connally                        249
+
+Steve Connally's House                249
+
+Valmar Cormier                        252
+
+John Crawford                         257
+
+Green Cumby                           260
+
+Tempie Cummins                        263
+
+Adeline Cunningham                    266
+
+Will Daily's House                    269
+
+Will Daily                            269
+
+Julia Francis Daniels                 273
+
+Katie Darling                         278
+
+Carey Davenport                       281
+
+Campbell Davis                        285
+
+Nelsen Denson                         305
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE STORIES
+
+(Texas)
+
+
+
+
+420241
+
+
+[Illustration: Will Adams]
+
+
+     WILL ADAMS was born in 1857, a slave of Dave Cavin, in Harrison
+     Co., Texas. He remained with the Cavins until 1885, then farmed for
+     himself. Will lives alone in Marshall, Texas, supported by a $13.00
+     monthly pension.
+
+
+"My folks allus belongs to the Cavins and wore their name till after
+'mancipation. Pa and ma was named Freeman and Amelia Cavin and Massa
+Dave fotches them to Texas from Alabama, along with ma's mother, what we
+called Maria.
+
+"The Cavins allus thunk lots of their niggers and Grandma Maria say,
+'Why shouldn't they--it was their money.' She say there was plenty
+Indians here when they settled this country and they bought and traded
+with them without killin' them, if they could. The Indians was poor
+folks, jus' pilfer and loaf 'round all the time. The niggers was a heap
+sight better off than they was, 'cause we had plenty to eat and a place
+to stay.
+
+"Young Massa Tom was my special massa and he still lives here. Old Man
+Dave seemed to think more of his niggers than anybody and we thunk lots
+of our white folks. My pa was leader on the farm, and there wasn't no
+overseer or driver. When pa whip a nigger he needn't go to Massa Dave,
+but pa say, 'Go you way, you nigger. Freeman didn't whip you for
+nothin'.' Massa Dave allus believe pa, 'cause he tells the truth.
+
+"One time a peddler come to our house and after supper he goes to see
+'bout his pony. Pa done feed that pony fifteen ears of corn. The peddler
+tell massa his pony ain't been fed nothin', and massa git mad and say,
+'Be on you way iffen you gwine 'cuse my niggers of lyin'.'
+
+"We had good quarters and plenty to eat. I 'members when I's jus'
+walkin' round good pa come in from the field at night and taken me out
+of bed and dress me and feed me and then play with me for hours. Him
+bein' leader, he's gone from 'fore day till after night. The old heads
+got out early but us young scraps slep' till eight or nine o'clock, and
+don't you think Massa Dave ain't comin' round to see we is fed. I
+'members him like it was yest'day, comin' to the quarters with his stick
+and askin' us, 'Had your breakfas'?' We'd say, 'Yes, suh.' Then he'd ask
+if we had 'nough or wanted any more. It look like he taken a pleasure in
+seein' us eat. At dinner, when the field hands come in, it am the same
+way. He was sho' that potlicker was fill as long as the niggers want to
+eat.
+
+"The hands worked from sun to sun. Massa give them li'l crops and let
+them work them on Saturday. Then he bought the stuff and the niggers go
+to Jefferson and buy clothes and sech like. Lots saved money and bought
+freedom 'fore the war was over.
+
+"We went to church and first the white preacher preached and then he
+larns our cullud preachers. I seed him ordain a cullud preacher and he
+told him to allus be honest. When the white preacher laid his hand on
+him, all the niggers git to hollerin' and shoutin' and prayin' and that
+nigger git scart mos' to death.
+
+"On Christmas we had all we could eat and drink and after that a big
+party, and you ought to see them gals swingin' they partners round. Then
+massa have two niggers wrestle, and our sports and dances was big sport
+for the white folks. They'd sit on the gallery and watch the niggers put
+it on brown.
+
+"Massa didn't like his niggers to marry off the place, but sometimes
+they'd do it, and massa tell his neighbor, 'My nigger am comin' to you
+place. Make him behave.' All the niggers 'haved then and they wasn't no
+Huntsville and gallows and burnin's then.
+
+"Old massa went to war with his boy, Billie. They's lots of cryin' and
+weepin' when they sot us free. Lots of them didn't want to be free,
+'cause they knowed nothin' and had nowhere to go. Them what had good
+massas stayed right on.
+
+"I 'members when that Ku Klux business starts up. Smart niggers causes
+that. The carpet-baggers ruint the niggers and the white men couldn't do
+a thing with them, so they got up the Ku Klux and stirs up the world.
+Them carpet-baggers come round larnin' niggers to sass the white folks
+what done fed them. They come to pa with that talk and he told them,
+'Listen, white folks, you is gwine start a graveyard if you come round
+here teachin' niggers to sass white folks." Them carpet-baggers starts
+all the trouble at 'lections in Reconstruction. Niggers didn't know
+anythin' 'bout politics.
+
+"Mos' the young niggers ain't usin' the education they got now. I's been
+here eighty years and still has to be showed and told by white folks.
+These young niggers won't git told by whites or blacks either. They
+thinks they done knowed it all and that gits them in trouble.
+
+"I stays with the Cavins mos' twenty years after the war. After I
+leaves, I allus farms and does odd jobs round town here. I's father of
+ten chillen by one woman. I lives by myself now and they gives me $13.00
+a month. I'd be proud to git it if it wasn't more'n a dollar, 'cause
+they ain't nothin' a old man can do no more.
+
+
+
+
+420055
+
+
+[Illustration: William Adams]
+
+
+     WILLIAM ADAMS, 93, was born in slavery, with no opportunity for an
+     education, except three months in a public school. He has taught
+     himself to read and to write. His lifelong ambition has been to
+     become master of the supernatural powers which he believes to
+     exist. He is now well-known among Southwestern Negroes for his
+     faith in the occult.
+
+
+"Yous want to know and talk about de power de people tells you I has.
+Well, sit down here, right there in dat chair, befo' we'uns starts. I
+gits some ice water and den we'uns can discuss de subject. I wants to
+'splain it clearly, so yous can understand.
+
+"I's born a slave, 93 years ago, so of course I 'members de war period.
+Like all de other slaves I has no chance for edumacation. Three months
+am de total time I's spent going to school. I teached myself to read and
+write. I's anxious to larn to read so I could study and find out about
+many things. Dat, I has done.
+
+"There am lots of folks, and edumacated ones, too, what says we'uns
+believes in superstition. Well, its 'cause dey don't understand. 'Member
+de Lawd, in some of His ways, can be mysterious. De Bible says so. There
+am some things de Lawd wants all folks to know, some things jus' de
+chosen few to know, and some things no one should know. Now, jus' 'cause
+yous don't know 'bout some of de Lawd's laws, 'taint superstition if
+some other person understands and believes in sich.
+
+"There is some born to sing, some born to preach, and some born to know
+de signs. There is some born under de power of de devil and have de
+power to put injury and misery on people, and some born under de power
+of de Lawd for to do good and overcome de evil power. Now, dat produces
+two forces, like fire and water. De evil forces starts de fire and I has
+de water force to put de fire out.
+
+"How I larnt sich? Well, I's done larn it. It come to me. When de Lawd
+gives sich power to a person, it jus' comes to 'em. It am 40 years ago
+now when I's fust fully realize' dat I has de power. However, I's allus
+int'rested in de workin's of de signs. When I's a little piccaninny, my
+mammy and other folks used to talk about de signs. I hears dem talk
+about what happens to folks 'cause a spell was put on 'em. De old folks
+in dem days knows more about de signs dat de Lawd uses to reveal His
+laws den de folks of today. It am also true of de cullud folks in
+Africa, dey native land. Some of de folks laughs at their beliefs and
+says it am superstition, but it am knowin' how de Lawd reveals His laws.
+
+"Now, let me tell yous of something I's seen. What am seen, can't be
+doubted. It happens when I's a young man and befo' I's realize' dat I's
+one dat am chosen for to show de power. A mule had cut his leg so bad
+dat him am bleedin' to death and dey couldn't stop it. An old cullud man
+live near there dat dey turns to. He comes over and passes his hand over
+de cut. Befo' long de bleedin' stop and dat's de power of de Lawd
+workin' through dat nigger, dat's all it am.
+
+"I knows about a woman dat had lost her mind. De doctor say it was
+caused from a tumor in de head. Dey took an ex-ray picture, but dere's
+no tumor. Dey gives up and says its a peculiar case. Dat woman was took
+to one with de power of de good spirit and he say its a peculiar case
+for dem dat don't understand. Dis am a case of de evil spell. Two days
+after, de woman have her mind back.
+
+"Dey's lots of dose kind of cases de ord'nary person never hear about.
+Yous hear of de case de doctors can't understand, nor will dey 'spond to
+treatment. Dat am 'cause of de evil spell dat am on de persons.
+
+"'Bout special persons bein' chosen for to show de power, read yous
+Bible. It says in de book of Mark, third chapter, 'and He ordained
+twelve, dat dey should be with Him, dat He might send them forth to
+preach and to have de power to heal de sick and to cast out devils.' If
+it wasn't no evil in people, why does de Lawd say, 'cast out sich?' And
+in de fifth chapter of James, it further say, 'If any am sick, let him
+call de elders. Let dem pray over him. De prayers of faith shall save
+him.' There 'tis again, Faith, dat am what counts.
+
+"When I tells dat I seen many persons given up to die, and den a man
+with de power comes and saves sich person, den its not for people to say
+it am superstition to believe in de power.
+
+"Don't forgit--de agents of de devil have de power of evil. Dey can put
+misery of every kind on people. Dey can make trouble with de work and
+with de business, with de fam'ly and with de health. So folks mus' be on
+de watch all de time. Folks has business trouble 'cause de evil power
+have control of 'em. Dey has de evil power cast out and save de
+business. There am a man in Waco dat come to see me 'bout dat. He say to
+me everything he try to do in de las' six months turned out wrong. It
+starts with him losin' his pocketbook with $50.00 in it. He buys a
+carload of hay and it catch fire and he los' all of it. He spends
+$200.00 advertisin' de three-day sale and it begin to rain, so he los'
+money. It sho' am de evil power.
+
+"'Well,' he say, 'Dat am de way it go, so I comes to you.'
+
+"I says to him, 'Its de evil power dat have you control and we'uns shall
+cause it to be cast out.' Its done and he has no more trouble.
+
+"You wants to know if persons with de power for good can be successful
+in castin' out devils in all cases? Well, I answers dat, yes and no. Dey
+can in every case if de affected person have de faith. If de party not
+have enough faith, den it am a failure.
+
+"Wearin' de coin for protection 'gainst de evil power? Dat am simple.
+Lots of folks wears sich and dey uses mixtures dat am sprinkled in de
+house, and sich. Dat am a question of faith. If dey has de true faith in
+sich, it works. Otherwise, it won't.
+
+"Some folks won't think for a minute of goin' without lodestone or de
+salt and pepper mixture in de little sack, tied round dey neck. Some
+wears de silver coin tied round dey neck. All sich am for to keep away
+de effect of de evil power. When one have de faith in sich and dey
+acc'dently lose de charm, dey sho' am miserable.
+
+"An old darky dat has faith in lodestone for de charm told me de
+'sperience he has in Atlanta once. He carryin' de hod and de fust thing
+he does am drop some brick on he foot. De next thing, he foot slip as
+him starts up de ladder and him and de bricks drap to de ground. It am
+lucky for him it wasn't far. Jus' a sprain ankle and de boss sends him
+home for de day. He am 'cited and gits on de street car and when de
+conductor call for de fare, Rufus reaches for he money but he los' it
+or fergits it at home. De conductor say he let him pay nex' time and
+asks where he live. Rufus tells him and he say, 'Why, nigger, you is on
+de wrong car.' Dat cause Rufus to walk further with de lame foot dan if
+he started walkin' in de fust place. He thinks there mus' be something
+wrong with he charm, and he look for it and it gone! Sho' 'nough, it am
+los'. He think, 'Here I sits all day, and I won't make another move till
+I gits de lodestone. When de chillen comes from school I sends dem to de
+drugstore for some of de stone and gits fixed.'
+
+"Now, now, I's been waitin' for dat one 'bout de black cat crossin' de
+road, and, sho' 'nough, it come. Let me ask you one. How many people can
+yous find dat likes to have de black cat cross in front of 'em? Dat's
+right, no one likes dat. Let dis old cullud person inform yous dat it am
+sho' de bad luck sign. It is sign of bad luck ahead, so turn back. Stop
+what yous doin'.
+
+"I's tellin' yous of two of many cases of failure to took warnin' from
+de black cat. I knows a man call' Miller. His wife and him am takin' an
+auto ride and de black cat cross de road and he cussed a little and goes
+on. Den it's not long till he turns de corner and his wife falls out of
+de car durin' de turn. When he goes back and picks her up, she am dead.
+
+"Another fellow, call' Brown, was a-ridin' hossback and a black cat
+cross de path, but he drives on. Well, its not long till him hoss
+stumble and throw him off. De fall breaks his leg, so take a
+warnin'--don't overlook de black cat. Dat am a warnin'.
+
+
+
+
+420192
+
+
+     WILLIAM M. ADAMS, spiritualist preacher and healer, who lives at
+     1404 Illinois Ave., Ft. Worth, Texas, was born a slave on the James
+     Davis plantation, in San Jacinto Co., Texas. After the war he
+     worked in a grocery, punched cattle, farmed and preached. He moved
+     to Ft. Worth in 1902.
+
+
+"I was bo'n 93 years ago, dat is whut my mother says. We didn' keep no
+record like folks does today. All I know is I been yere a long time. My
+mother, she was Julia Adams and my father he was James Adams. She's bo'n
+in Hollis Springs, Mississippi and my father, now den, he was bo'n in
+Florida. He was a Black Creek Indian. Dere was 12 of us chillen. When I
+was 'bout seven de missus, she come and gits me for her servant. I lived
+in de big house till she die. Her and Marster Davis was powerful good to
+me.
+
+"Marster Davis he was a big lawyer and de owner of a plantation. But all
+I do was wait on ole missus. I'd light her pipe for her and I helped her
+wid her knittin'. She give me money all de time. She had a little trunk
+she keeped money in and lots of times I'd have to pack it down wid my
+feets.
+
+"I dis'member jus' how many slaves dere was, but dere was more'n 100. I
+saw as much as 100 sold at a time. When dey tuk a bunch of slaves to
+trade, dey put chains on 'em.
+
+"De other slaves lived in log cabins back of de big house. Dey had dirt
+floors and beds dat was made out of co'n shucks or straw. At nite dey
+burned de lamps for 'bout an hour, den de overseers, dey come knock on
+de door and tell 'em put de light out. Lots of overseers was mean.
+Sometimes dey'd whip a nigger wid a leather strap 'bout a foot wide and
+long as your arm and wid a wooden handle at de end.
+
+"On Sat'day and Sunday nites dey'd dance and sing all nite long. Dey
+didn' dance like today, dey danced de roun' dance and jig and do de
+pigeon wing, and some of dem would jump up and see how many time he
+could kick his feets 'fore dey hit de groun'. Dey had an ole fiddle and
+some of 'em would take two bones in each hand and rattle 'em. Dey sang
+songs like, 'Diana had a Wooden Leg,' and 'A Hand full of Sugar,' and
+'Cotton-eyed Joe.' I dis'member how dey went.
+
+"De slaves didn' have no church den, but dey'd take a big sugar kettle
+and turn it top down on de groun' and put logs roun' it to kill de
+soun'. Dey'd pray to be free and sing and dance.
+
+"When war come dey come and got de slaves from all de plantations and
+tuk 'em to build de breastworks. I saw lots of soldiers. Dey'd sing a
+song dat go something like dis:
+
+"'Jeff Davis rode a big white hoss,
+Lincoln rode a mule;
+Jess Davis is our President,
+Lincoln is a fool.'
+
+"I 'member when de slaves would run away. Ole John Billinger, he had a
+bunch of dogs and he'd take after runaway niggers. Sometimes de dogs
+didn' ketch de nigger. Den ole Billinger, he'd cuss and kick de dogs.
+
+"We didn' have to have a pass but on other plantations dey did, or de
+paddlerollers would git you and whip you. Dey was de poor white folks
+dat didn' have no slaves. We didn' call 'em white folks dem days. No,
+suh, we called dem' Buskrys.'
+
+"Jus' fore de war, a white preacher he come to us slaves and says: 'Do
+you wan' to keep you homes whar you git all to eat, and raise your
+chillen, or do you wan' to be free to roam roun' without a home, like de
+wil' animals? If you wan' to keep you homes you better pray for de South
+to win. All day wan's to pray for de South to win, raise the
+hand.' We all raised our hands 'cause we was skeered not to, but we sho'
+didn' wan' de South to win.
+
+"Dat night all de slaves had a meetin' down in de hollow. Ole Uncle
+Mack, he gits up and says: 'One time over in Virginny dere was two ole
+niggers, Uncle Bob and Uncle Tom. Dey was mad at one 'nuther and one day
+dey decided to have a dinner and bury de hatchet. So day sat
+down, and when Uncle Bob wasn't lookin' Uncle Tom put some poison in
+Uncle Bob's food, but he saw it and when Uncle Tom wasn't lookin', Uncle
+Bob he turned de tray roun' on Uncle Tom, and he gits de poison food.'
+Uncle Mack, he says: 'Dat's what we slaves is gwine do, jus' turn de
+tray roun' and pray for de North to win.'
+
+"After de war dere was a lot of excitement 'mong de niggers. Dey was
+rejoicin' and singin'. Some of 'em looked puzzled, sorter skeered like.
+But dey danced and had a big jamboree.
+
+"Lots of 'em stayed and worked on de halves. Others hired out. I went to
+work in a grocery store and he paid me $1.50 a week. I give my mother de
+dollar and keeped de half. Den I got married and farmed for awhile. Den
+I come to Fort Worth and I been yere since.
+
+
+
+
+420198
+
+
+     SARAH ALLEN was born a slave of John and Sally Goodren, in the Blue
+     Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Before the Civil War, her owners came
+     to Texas, locating near a small town then called Freedom. She lives
+     at 3322 Frutas St., El Paso, Texas.
+
+
+"I was birthed in time of bondage. You know, some people are ashamed to
+tell it, but I thank God I was 'llowed to see them times as well as now.
+It's a pretty hard story, how cruel some of the marsters was, but I had
+the luck to be with good white people. But some I knew were put on the
+block and sold. I 'member when they'd come to John Goodren's place to
+buy, but he not sell any. They'd have certain days when they'd sell off
+the block and they took chillen 'way from mothers, screamin' for dere
+chillen.
+
+"I was birthed in ole Virginia in de Blue Ridge Mountains. When de white
+people come to Texas, de cullud people come with them. Dat's been a long
+time.
+
+"My maw was named Charlotte, my paw Parks Adams. He's a white man. I
+guess I'm about eighty some years ole.
+
+"You know, in slavery times when dey had bad marsters dey'd run away,
+but we didn' want to. My missus would see her people had something good
+to eat every Sunday mornin'. You had to mind your missus and marster and
+you be treated well. I think I was about twelve when dey freed us and we
+stayed with marster 'bout a year, then went to John Ecols' place and
+rented some lan'. We made two bales of cotton and it was the first money
+we ever saw.
+
+"Back when we lived with Marster Goodren we had big candy pullin's.
+Invite everybody and play. We had good times. De worst thing, we didn'
+never have no schoolin' till after I married. Den I went to school two
+weeks. My husban' was teacher. He never was a slave. His father bought
+freedom through a blacksmith shop, some way.
+
+"I had a nice weddin'. My dress was white and trimmed with blue ribbon.
+My second day dress was white with red dots. I had a beautiful veil and
+a wreath and 'bout two, three waiters for table dat day.
+
+"My mother was nearly white. Brighter than me. We lef' my father in
+Virginia. I was jus' as white as de chillen I played with. I used to be
+plum bright, but here lately I'm gettin' awful dark.
+
+"My husban' was of a mixture, like you call bright ginger-cake color. I
+don' know where he got his learnin'. I feel so bad since he's gone to
+Glory.
+
+"Now I'm ole, de Lord has taken care of me. He put that spirit in people
+to look after ole folks and now my chillen look after me. I've two sons,
+one name James Allen, one R.M. Both live in El Paso.
+
+"After we go to sleep, de people will know these things, 'cause if
+freedom hadn' come, it would have been so miserable.
+
+
+
+
+420149
+
+
+     ANDY ANDERSON, 94, was born a slave of Jack Haley, who owned a
+     plantation in Williamson Co., Texas. During the Civil War, Andy was
+     sold to W.T. House, of Blanco County, who in less than a year sold
+     Andy to his brother, John House. Andy now lives with his third wife
+     and eight of his children at 301 Armour St., Fort Worth, Texas.
+
+
+"My name am Andy J. Anderson, and I's born on Massa Jack Haley's
+plantation in Williamson County, Texas, and Massa Haley owned my folks
+and 'bout twelve other families of niggers. I's born in 1843 and that
+makes me 94 year old and 18 year when de war starts. I's had 'speriences
+durin' dat time.
+
+"Massa Haley am kind to his cullud folks, and him am kind to everybody,
+and all de folks likes him. De other white folks called we'uns de petted
+niggers. There am 'bout 30 old and young niggers and 'bout 20
+piccaninnies too little to work, and de nuss cares for dem while dey
+mammies works.
+
+"I's gwine 'splain how it am managed on Massa Haley's plantation. It am
+sort of like de small town, 'cause everything we uses am made right
+there. There am de shoemaker and he is de tanner and make de leather
+from de hides. Den massa has 'bout a thousand sheep and he gits de wool,
+and de niggers cards and spins and weaves it, and dat makes all de
+clothes. Den massa have cattle and sich purvide de milk and de butter
+and beef meat for eatin'. Den massa have de turkeys and chickens and de
+hawgs and de bees. With all that, us never was hongry.
+
+"De plantation am planted in cotton, mostly, with de corn and de wheat a
+little, 'cause massa don't need much of dem. He never sell nothin' but
+de cotton.
+
+"De livin' for de cullud folks am good. De quarters am built from logs
+like deys all in dem days. De floor am de dirt but we has de benches and
+what is made on de place. And we has de big fireplace for to cook and we
+has plenty to cook in dat fireplace, 'cause massa allus 'lows plenty
+good rations, but he watch close for de wastin' of de food.
+
+"De war breaks and dat make de big change on de massas place. He jines
+de army and hires a man call' Delbridge for overseer. After dat, de hell
+start to pop, 'cause de first thing Delbridge do is cut de rations. He
+weighs out de meat, three pound for de week, and he measure a peck of
+meal. And 'twarn't enough. He half starve us niggers and he want mo'
+work and he start de whippin's. I guesses he starts to edumacate 'em. I
+guess dat Delbridge go to hell when he died, but I don't see how de
+debbil could stand him.
+
+"We'uns am not use' to sich and some runs off. When dey am cotched there
+am a whippin' at de stake. But dat Delbridge, he sold me to Massa House,
+in Blanco County. I's sho' glad when I's sold, but it am short gladness,
+'cause here am another man what hell am too good for. He gives me de
+whippin' and de scars am still on my arms and my back, too. I'll carry
+dem to my grave. He sends me for firewood and when I gits it loaded, de
+wheel hits a stump and de team jerks and dat breaks de whippletree. So
+he ties me to de stake and every half hour for four hours, dey lays ta
+lashes on my back. For de first couple hours de pain am awful. I's never
+forgot it. Den I's stood so much pain I not feel so much and when dey
+takes me loose, I's jus' 'bout half dead. I lays in de bunk two days,
+gittin' over dat whippin', gittin' over it in de body but not de heart.
+No, suh, I has dat in de heart till dis day.
+
+"After dat whippin' I doesn't have de heart to work for de massa. If I
+seed de cattle in de cornfield, I turns de back, 'stead of chasin' 'em
+out. I guess dat de reason de massa sold me to his brother, Massa John.
+And he am good like my first massa, he never whipped me.
+
+"Den surrender am 'nounced and massa tells us we's free. When dat takes
+place, it am 'bout one hour by sun. I says to myself, 'I won't be here
+long.' But I's not realise what I's in for till after I's started, but I
+couldn't turn back. For dat means de whippin' or danger from de patter
+rollers. Dere I was and I kep' on gwine. No nigger am sposed to be off
+de massa's place without de pass, so I travels at night and hides durin'
+de daylight. I stays in de bresh and gits water from de creeks, but not
+much to eat. Twice I's sho' dem patter rollers am passin' while I's
+hidin'.
+
+"I's 21 year old den, but it am de first time I's gone any place, 'cept
+to de neighbors, so I's worried 'bout de right way to Massa Haley's
+place. But de mornin' of de third day I comes to he place and I's so
+hongry and tired and scairt for fear Massa Haley not home from de army
+yit. So I finds my pappy and he hides me in he cabin till a week and den
+luck comes to me when Massa Haley come home. He come at night and de
+next mornin' dat Delbridge am shunt off de place, 'cause Massa Haley
+seed he niggers was all gaunt and lots am ran off and de fields am not
+plowed right, and only half de sheep and everything left. So massa say
+to dat Delbridge, 'Dere am no words can 'splain what yous done. Git off
+my place 'fore I smashes you.'
+
+"Den I kin come out from my pappy's cabin and de old massa was glad to
+see me, and he let me stay till freedom am ordered. Dat's de happies'
+time in my life, when I gits back to Massa Haley.
+
+
+
+
+420317
+
+
+Dibble, Fred, P.W., Beehler, Rheba, P.W., Beaumont, Jefferson, Dist. #3.
+
+     A frail sick man, neatly clad in white pajamas lying patiently in a
+     clean bed awaiting the end which does not seem far away. Although
+     we protested against his talking, because of his weakness, he told
+     a brief story of his life in a whisper, his breath very short and
+     every word was spoken with great effort. His light skin and his
+     features denote no characteristic of his race, has a bald head with
+     a bit of gray hair around the crown and a slight growth of gray
+     whiskers about his face, is medium in height and build. WASH
+     ANDERSON, although born in Charleston, S.C., has spent practically
+     all of his life in Texas [Handwritten Note: (Beaumont, Texas--]
+
+
+"Mos' folks call me Wash Anderson, but dey uster call me George. My
+whole name' George Washington Anderson. I was bo'n in Charleston, Sou'f
+Ca'lina in 1855. Bill Anderson was my ol' marster. Dey was two boy' and
+two gal' in his family. We all lef' Charleston and come to Orange,
+Texas, befo' freedom come. I was fo' year' ol' when dey mek dat trip."
+
+"I don' 'member nuttin' 'bout Charleston. You see where I was bo'n was
+'bout two mile' from de city. I went back one time in 1917, but I didn'
+stay dere long."
+
+"My pa was Irvin' Anderson and my mommer was name' Eliza. Ol' marster
+was pretty rough on his niggers. Dey tell me he had my gran'daddy beat
+to death. Dey never did beat me."
+
+"Dey made de trip from Charleston 'cross de country and settle' in
+Duncan's Wood' down here in Orange county. Dey had a big plantation
+dere. I dunno if ol' marster had money back in Charleston, but I t'ink
+he must have. He had 'bout 25 or 30 slaves on de place."
+
+"Ol' man Anderson he had a big two-story house. It was buil' out of logs
+but it was a big fine house. De slaves jis' had little log huts. Dere
+warn't no flo's to 'em, nuthin' but de groun'. Dem little huts jis' had
+one room in 'em. Dey was one family to de house, 'cep'n' sometime dey
+put two or t'ree family' to a house. Dey jis' herd de slaves in dere
+like a bunch of pigs."
+
+"Dey uster raise cotton, and co'n, and sugar cane, and sich like, but
+dey didn' uster raise no rice. Dey uster sen' stuff to Terry on a
+railroad to sen' it to market. Sometime dey hitch up dey teams and sen'
+it to Orange and Beaumont in wagons. De ol' marster he had a boat, too,
+and sometime he sen' a boatload of his stuff to Beaumont."
+
+"My work was to drive de surrey for de family and look atter de hosses
+and de harness and sich. I jis' have de bes' hosses on de place to see
+atter."
+
+"I saw lots of sojers durin' de war. I see 'em marchin' by, goin' to
+Sabine Pass 'bout de time of dat battle."
+
+"Back in slavery time dey uster have a white preacher to come 'roun' and
+preach to de cullud folks. But I don't 'member much 'bout de songs what
+dey uster sing."
+
+"I play 'roun' right smart when I was little. Dey uster have lots of fun
+playin' 'hide and seek,' and 'hide de switch.' We uster ride stick
+hosses and play 'roun' at all dem t'ings what chillun play at."
+
+"Dey had plenty of hosses and mules and cows on de ol' plantation. I had
+to look atter some of de hosses, but dem what I hatter look atter was
+s'pose to be de bes' hosses in de bunch. Like I say, I drive de surrey
+and dey allus have de bes' hosses to pull dat surrey. Dey had a log
+stable. Dey kep' de harness in dere, too. Eb'ryt'ing what de stock eat
+dey raise on de plantation, all de co'n and fodder and sich like."
+
+"Atter freedom come I went 'roun' doin' dif'rent kind of work. I uster
+work on steamboats, and on de railroad and at sawmillin'. I was a sawyer
+for a long, long time. I work 'roun' in Lou'sana and Arkansas, and
+Oklahoma, as well as in Texas. When I wasn't doin' dem kinds of work, I
+uster work 'roun' at anyt'ing what come to han'. I 'member one time I
+was workin' for de Burr Lumber Company at Fort Townsend up dere in
+Arkansas."
+
+"When I was 'bout 36 year' ol' I git marry. I been married twice. My
+fus' wife was name' Hannah and Reverend George Childress was de preacher
+dat marry us. He was a cullud preacher. Atter Hannah been dead some time
+I marry my secon' wife. Her name was Tempie Perkins. Later on, us
+sep'rate. Us sep'rate on 'count of money matters."
+
+"I b'longs to de Baptis' Chu'ch. Sometime' de preacher come 'roun' and
+see me. He was here a few days ago dis week."
+
+
+
+
+_"UNCLE WILLIS ANDERSON"_
+
+_REFERENCES_
+
+A. Coronado's Children--J. Frank Dobie, Pub. 1929, Austin, Tex.
+
+B. Leon County News--Centerville, Texas--Thursday May 21, 1936.
+
+C. Consultant--Uncle Willis Anderson, resident of Centerville, Tex, born
+April 15, 1844.
+
+
+An interesting character at Centerville, Texas, is "Uncle Willis"
+Anderson, an ex-slave, born April 15, 1844, 6 miles west of Centerville
+on the old McDaniels plantation near what is now known as Hopewell
+Settlement. It is generally said that "Uncle Willis" is one of the
+oldest living citizens in the County, black or white. He is referred to
+generally for information concerning days gone by and for the history of
+that County, especially in the immediate vicinity of Centerville.
+
+"Uncle Willis" is an interesting figure. He may be found sitting on the
+porches of the stores facing Federal Highway No. 75, nodding or
+conversing with small groups of white or colored people that gather
+around him telling of the days gone by. He also likes to watch the
+busses and automobiles that pass through the small town musing and
+commenting on the swiftness of things today. Uncle Willis still
+cultivates a small patch five miles out from the town.
+
+"Uncle Willis" is a tall dark, brown-skinned man having a large head
+covered with mixed gray wooly hair. He has lost very few teeth
+considering his age. When sitting on the porches of the stores the soles
+of his farm-shoes may be seen tied together with pieces of wire. He
+supports himself with a cane made from the Elm tree. At present he wears
+a tall white Texas Centennial hat which makes him appear more unique
+than ever.
+
+"Uncle Willis'" memory is vivid. He is familiar with the older figures
+in the history of the County. He tells tales of having travelled by oxen
+to West Texas for flour and being gone for six months at a time. He
+remembers the Keechi and the Kickapoo Indians and also claims that he
+can point out a tree where the Americans hung an Indian Chief. He says
+that he has plowed up arrows, pots and flints on the Reubens Bains place
+and on the McDaniel farms. He can tell of the early lawlessness in the
+County. His face lights up when he recalls how the Yankee soldiers came
+through Centerville telling the slave owners to free their slaves. He
+also talks very low when he mentions the name of Jeff Davis because he
+says, "Wha' man eavesdrops the niggers houses in slavery time and if
+yer' sed' that Jeff Davis was a good man, they barbecued a hog for you,
+but if yer' sed' that Abe Lincoln was a good man, yer' had to fight or
+go to the woods."
+
+Among the most interesting tales told by "Uncle Willis" is the tale of
+the "Lead mine." "Uncle Willis" says that some where along Boggy Creek
+near a large hickory tree and a red oak tree, near Patrick's Lake, he
+and his master, Auss McDaniels, would dig lead out of the ground which
+they used to make pistol and rifle balls for the old Mississippi rifles
+during slavery time. Uncle Willis claims that they would dig slags of
+lead out of the ground some 12 and 15 inches long, and others as large
+as a man's fist. They would carry this ore back to the big house and
+melt it down to get the trash out of it, then they would pour it into
+molds and make rifle balls and pistol balls from it. In this way they
+kept plenty of amunition on hand. In recent years the land has changed
+ownership, and the present owners live in Dallas. Learning of the tale
+of the "lead mine" on their property they went to Centerville in an
+attempt to locate it and were referred to "Uncle Willis." Uncle Willis
+says they offered him two hundred dollars if he could locate the mine.
+Being so sure that he knew its exact location, said that the $200 was
+his meat. However, Uncle Willis was unable to locate the spot where they
+dug the lead and the mine remains a mystery.[C]
+
+Recently a group of citizens of Leon County including W.D. Lacey, Joe
+McDaniel, Debbs Brown, W.H. Hill and Judge Lacey cross questioned Uncle
+Willis about the lead mine. Judge Lacey did the questioning while them
+others formed an audience. The conversation went as follows:
+
+"Which way would you go when you went to the mine?" Judge Lacey asked.
+
+"Out tow'hd Normangee."
+
+"How long would it take you to get there?"
+
+"Two or three hours."
+
+"Was it on a creek?"
+
+"Yessuh."
+
+"But you cant go to it now?"
+
+"Nosuh, I just can't recollect exactly where 'tis.[B]
+
+J. Frank Dobie mentions many tales of lost lead mines throughout Texas
+in Coronado's Children, a publication of the Texas Folk-Lore Society.
+Lead in the early days of the Republic and the State was very valuable,
+as it was the source of protection from the Indians and also the means
+of supplying food.[A]
+
+
+
+
+420056
+
+
+[Illustration: Mary Armstrong]
+
+
+     MARY ARMSTRONG, 91, lives at 3326 Pierce Ave., Houston, Texas. She
+     was born on a farm near St. Louis, Missouri, a slave of William
+     Cleveland. Her father, Sam Adams, belonged to a "nigger trader,"
+     who had a farm adjoining the Cleveland place.
+
+
+"I's Aunt Mary, all right, but you all has to 'scuse me if I don't talk
+so good, 'cause I's been feelin' poorly for a spell and I ain't so young
+no more. Law me, when I think back what I used to do, and now it's all I
+can do to hobble 'round a little. Why, Miss Olivia, my mistress, used to
+put a glass plumb full of water on my head and then have me waltz 'round
+the room, and I'd dance so smoothlike, I don't spill nary drap.
+
+"That was in St. Louis, where I's born. You see, my mamma belong to old
+William Cleveland and old Polly Cleveland, and they was the meanest two
+white folks what ever lived, 'cause they was allus beatin' on their
+slaves. I know, 'cause mamma told me, and I hears about it other places,
+and besides, old Polly, she was a Polly devil if there ever was one, and
+she whipped my little sister what was only nine months old and jes' a
+baby to death. She come and took the diaper offen my little sister and
+whipped till the blood jes' ran--jes' 'cause she cry like all babies do,
+and it kilt my sister. I never forgot that, but I sot some even with
+that old Polly devil and it's this-a-way.
+
+"You see, I's 'bout 10 year old and I belongs to Miss Olivia, what was
+that old Polly's daughter, and one day old Polly devil comes to where
+Miss Olivia lives after she marries, and trys to give me a lick out in
+the yard, and I picks up a rock 'bout as big as half your fist and hits
+her right in the eye and busted the eyeball, and tells her that's for
+whippin' my baby sister to death. You could hear her holler for five
+miles, but Miss Olivia, when I tells her, says, 'Well, I guess mamma has
+larnt her lesson at last.' But that old Polly was mean like her husban',
+old Cleveland, till she die, and I hopes they is burnin' in torment now.
+
+"I don't 'member 'bout the start of things so much, 'cept what Miss
+Olivia and my mamma, her name was Siby, tells me. Course, it's powerful
+cold in winter times and the farms was lots different from down here.
+They calls 'em plantations down here but up at St. Louis they was jes'
+called farms, and that's what they was, 'cause we raises wheat and
+barley and rye and oats and corn and fruit.
+
+"The houses was builded with brick and heavy wood, too, 'cause it's cold
+up there, and we has to wear the warm clothes and they's wove on the
+place, and we works at it in the evenin's.
+
+"Old Cleveland takes a lot of his slaves what was in 'custom' and brings
+'em to Texas to sell. You know, he wasn't sposed to do that, 'cause when
+you's in 'custom', that's 'cause he borrowed money on you, and you's not
+sposed to leave the place till he paid up. Course, old Cleveland jes'
+tells the one he owed the money to, you had run off, or squirmed out
+some way, he was that mean.
+
+"Mamma say she was in one bunch and me in 'nother. Mamma had been put
+'fore this with my papa, Sam Adams, but that makes no diff'rence to Old
+Cleveland. He's so mean he never would sell the man and woman and
+chillen to the same one. He'd sell the man here and the woman there and
+if they's chillen, he'd sell them some place else. Oh, old Satan in
+torment couldn't be no meaner than what he and Old Polly was to they
+slaves. He'd chain a nigger up to whip 'em and rub salt and pepper on
+him, like he said, 'to season him up.' And when he'd sell a slave, he'd
+grease their mouth all up to make it look like they'd been fed good and
+was strong and healthy.
+
+"Well mamma say they hadn't no more'n got to Shreveport 'fore some law
+man cotch old Cleveland and takes 'em all back to St. Louis. Then my
+little sister's born, the one old Polly devil kilt, and I's 'bout four
+year old then.
+
+"Miss Olivia takes a likin' to me and, though her papa and mama so mean,
+she's kind to everyone, and they jes' love her. She marries to Mr. Will
+Adams what was a fine man, and has 'bout five farms and 500 slaves, and
+he buys me for her from old Cleveland and pays him $2,500.00, and gives
+him George Henry, a nigger, to boot. Lawsy, I's sho' happy to be with
+Miss Olivia and away from old Cleveland and Old Polly, 'cause they kilt
+my little sister.
+
+"We lives in St. Louis, on Chinquapin Hill, and I's housegirl, and when
+the babies starts to come I nusses 'em and spins thread for clothes on
+the loom. I spins six cuts of thread a week, but I has plenty of time
+for myself and that's where I larns to dance so good. Law, I sho' jes'
+crazy 'bout dancin'. If I's settin' eatin' my victuals and hears a
+fiddle play, I gets up and dances.
+
+"Mr. Will and Miss Olivia sho' is good to me, and I never calls Mr. Will
+'massa' neither, but when they's company I calls him Mr. Will and 'round
+the house by ourselves I calls them 'pappy' and 'mammy', 'cause they
+raises me up from the little girl. I hears old Cleveland done took my
+mamma to Texas 'gain but I couldn't do nothin', 'cause Miss Olivia
+wouldn't have much truck with her folks. Once in a while old Polly comes
+over, but Miss Olivia tells her not to touch me or the others. Old Polly
+trys to buy me back from Miss Olivia, and if they had they'd kilt me
+sho'. But Miss Olivia say, 'I'd wade in blood as deep as Hell 'fore I'd
+let you have Mary.' That's jes' the very words she told 'em.
+
+"Then I hears my papa is sold some place I don't know where. 'Course, I
+didn't know him so well, jes' what mamma done told me, so that didn't
+worry me like mamma being took so far away.
+
+"One day Mr. Will say, 'Mary, you want to go to the river and see the
+boat race?' Law me, I never won't forget that. Where we live it ain't
+far to the Miss'sippi River and pretty soon here they comes, the Natchez
+and the Eclipse, with smoke and fire jes' pourin' out of they
+smokestacks. That old captain on the 'Clipse starts puttin' in bacon
+meat in the boiler and the grease jes' comes out a-blazin' and it beat
+the Natchez to pieces.
+
+"I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr. Will set us all free. I was
+'bout 17 year old then or more. I say I goin' find my mamma. Mr. Will
+fixes me up two papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some
+smaller, but both has big, gold seals what he says is the seal of the
+State of Missouri. He gives me money and buys my fare ticket to Texas
+and tells me they is still slave times down here and to put the papers
+in my bosom but to do whatever the white folks tells me, even if they
+wants to sell me. But he say, 'Fore you gets off the block, jes' pull
+out the papers, but jes' hold 'em up to let folks see and don't let 'em
+out of your hands, and when they sees them they has to let you alone.'
+
+"Miss Olivia cry and carry on and say be careful of myself 'cause it
+sho' rough in Texas. She give me a big basket what had so much to eat in
+it I couldn't hardly heft it and 'nother with clothes in it. They puts
+me in the back end a the boat where the big, old wheel what run the boat
+was and I goes to New Orleans, and the captain puts me on 'nother boat
+and I comes to Galveston, and that captain puts me on 'nother boat and I
+comes up this here Buffalo Bayou to Houston.
+
+"I looks 'round Houston, but not long. It sho' was a dumpy little place
+then and I gets the stagecoach to Austin. It takes us two days to get
+there and I thinks my back busted sho' 'nough, it was sich rough ridin'.
+Then I has trouble sho'. A man asks me where I goin' and says to come
+'long and he takes me to a Mr. Charley Crosby. They takes me to the
+block what they sells slaves on. I gets right up like they tells me,
+'cause I 'lects what Mr. Will done told me to do, and they starts
+biddin' on me. And when they cried off and this Mr. Crosby comes up to
+get me, I jes' pulled out my papers and helt 'em up high and when he
+sees 'em, he say, 'Let me see them.' But I says, 'You jes' look at it up
+here,' and he squints up and say, 'This gal am free and has papers,' and
+tells me he a legislature man and takes me and lets me stay with his
+slaves. He is a good man.
+
+"He tells me there's a slave refugee camp in Wharton County but I didn't
+have no money left, but he pays me some for workin' and when the war's
+over I starts to hunt mamma 'gain, and finds her in Wharton County near
+where Wharton is. Law me, talk 'bout cryin' and singin' and cryin' some
+more, we sure done it. I stays with mamma till I gets married in 1871 to
+John Armstrong, and then we all comes to Houston.
+
+"I gets me a job nussin' for Dr. Rellaford and was all through the
+yellow fever epidemic. I 'lects in '75 people die jes' like sheep with
+the rots. I's seen folks with the fever jump from their bed with death
+on 'em and grab other folks. The doctor saved lots of folks, white and
+black, 'cause he sweat it out of 'em. He mixed up hot water and vinegar
+and mustard and some else in it.
+
+"But, law me, so much is gone out of my mind, 'cause I's 91 year old now
+and my mind jes' like my legs, jes' kinda hobble 'round a bit.
+
+
+
+
+420085
+
+
+[Illustration: Sterlin Arnwine]
+
+
+     STEARLIN ARNWINE, 94, was born a slave to Albertus Arnwine, near
+     Jacksonville, Texas, who died when Stearlin was seven or eight. He
+     was bought by John Moseley, of Rusk, Texas, who made Stearlin a
+     houseboy, and was very kind to him. He now lives about six miles
+     west of Jacksonville.
+
+
+"I was bo'n 'fore de war, in 1853, right near this here town, on Gum
+Creek. My mammy belonged to Massa Albertus Arnwine, and he wasn' ever
+married. He owned four women, my mammy, Ann, my grandmother, Gracie, and
+my Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary. He didn' own any nigger men, 'cept the
+chillen of these women. Grandma lived in de house with Massa Arnwine and
+the rest of us lived in cabins in de ya'd. My mammy come from Memphis
+but I don' know whar my pappy come from. He was Ike Lane. I has three
+half brothers, and their names is Joe and Will and John Schot, and two
+sisters called Polly and Rosie.
+
+"Massa Arnwine died 'fore de war and he made a will and it gave all he
+owned to the women he owned, and Jedge Jowell promised massa on his
+deathbed he would take us to de free country, but he didn'. He took us
+to his place to work for him for 'bout two years and the women never did
+get that 900 acres of land Massa Arnwine willed to'em. I don' know who
+got it, but they didn'. I knows I still has a share in that land, but it
+takes money to git it in cou't.
+
+"When war broke I fell into the han's of Massa John Moseley at Rusk.
+They brought the dogs to roun' us up from the fiel's whar we was
+workin'. I was the only one of my fam'ly to go to Massa John.
+
+"I never did wo'k in the fiel's at Massa John's place. He said I mus' be
+his houseboy and houseboy I was. Massa was sho' good to me and I did
+love to be with him and follow him 'roun'.
+
+"The kitchen was out in de ya'd and I had to carry the victuals to the
+big dinin'-room. When dinner was over, Massa John tuk a nap and I had to
+fan him, and Lawsy me, I'd git so sleepy. I kin hear him now, for he'd
+wake up and say, 'Go get me a drink outta the northeast corner of de
+well.'
+
+"We had straw and grass beds, we put it in sacks on de groun' and slep'
+on de sacks. I don' 'member how much land Massa John had but it was a
+big place and he had lots of slaves. We chillun had supper early in de
+evenin' and mostly cornbread and hawg meat and milk. We all ate from a
+big pot. I larned to spin and weave and knit and made lots of socks.
+
+"Massa John had two step-daughters, Miss Mollie and Miss Laura, and they
+wen' to school at Rusk. It was my job to take 'em thar ev'ry Monday
+mornin' on horses and go back after 'em Friday afternoon.
+
+"I never earnt no money 'fore freedom come, but once my brother-in-law
+give me five dollars. I was so proud of it I showed it to de ladies and
+one of 'em said, 'You don' need dat,' and she give me two sticks of
+candy and tuk de money. But I didn' know any better then.
+
+"I seed slaves for sale on de auction block. They sol' 'em 'cordin' to
+strengt' and muscles. They was stripped to de wais'. I seed the women
+and little chillun cryin' and beggin' not to be separated, but it didn'
+do no good. They had to go.
+
+"The only chu'ch I knowed 'bout was when we'd git together in de night
+and have prayer meetin' and singin.' We use' to go way out in de woods
+so de white folks wouldn' hear nothin'. Sometimes we'd stay nearly all
+night on Saturday, 'cause we didn' have to work Sunday.
+
+"'Bout the only thing we could play was stick hosses. I made miles and
+miles on the stick hosses. After the War Massa John have his chillun a
+big roll of Confederate money and they give us some of it to trade and
+buy stick hosses with.
+
+"When Massa John tol' us we was free, he didn' seem to min', but Miss
+Em, she bawled and squalled, say her prop'ty taken 'way from her. After
+dat, my mammy gathers us togedder and tuk us to the Dr. Middleton place,
+out from Jacksonville. From thar to de Ragsdale place whar I's been ever
+since.
+
+"I wore my first pants when I was fourteen years ole, and they stung
+'till I was mis'ble. The cloth was store bought but mammy made the pants
+at home. It was what we called dog-hair cloth. Mammy made my first
+shoes, we called 'em 'red rippers'.
+
+
+
+
+420075
+
+
+[Illustration: Sarah Ashley]
+
+
+     SARAH ASHLEY, 93, was born in Mississippi. She recalls her
+     experiences when sold on the block in New Orleans, and on a cotton
+     plantation in Texas. She now lives at Goodrich, Texas.
+
+
+"I ain't able to do nothin' no more. I's jus' plumb give out and I stays
+here by myself. My daughter, Georgia Grime, she used to live with me but
+she's been dead four year.
+
+"I was born in Miss'ippi and Massa Henry Thomas buy us and bring us
+here. He a spec'lator and buys up lots of niggers and sells 'em. Us
+family was sep'rated. My two sisters and my papa was sold to a man in
+Georgia. Den dey put me on a block and bid me off. Dat in New Orleans
+and I scairt and cry, but dey put me up dere anyway. First dey takes me
+to Georgia and dey didn't sell me for a long spell. Massa Thomas he
+travel round and buy and sell niggers. Us stay in de spec'lators drove
+de long time.
+
+"After 'while Massa Mose Davis come from Cold Spring, in Texas, and buys
+us. He was buyin' up little chillen for he chillen. Dat 'bout four year
+befo' da first war. I was 19 year old when de burst of freedom come in
+June and I git turn loose.
+
+"I was workin' in de field den. Jus' befo' dat de old Massa he go off
+and buy more niggers. He go east. He on a boat what git stove up and he
+die and never come back no more. Us never see him no more.
+
+"I used to have to pick cotton and sometime I pick 300 pound and tote it
+a mile to de cotton house. Some pick 300 to 800 pound cotton and have to
+tote de bag de whole mile to de gin. Iffen dey didn't do dey work dey
+git whip till dey have blister on 'em. Den iffen dey didn't do it, de
+man on a hoss goes down de rows and whip with a paddle make with holes
+in it and bus' de blisters. I never git whip, 'cause I allus git my 300
+pound. Us have to go early to do dat, when de horn goes early, befo'
+daylight. Us have to take de victuals in de bucket to de field.
+
+"Massa have de log house and us live in little houses, strowed in long
+rows. Dere wasn't no meetin's 'lowed in de quarters and iffen dey have
+prayer meetin' de boss man whip dem. Sometime us run off at night and go
+to camp meetin'. I takes de white chillen to church sometime, but dey
+couldn't larn me to sing no songs 'cause I didn' have no spirit.
+
+"Us never got 'nough to eat, so us keeps stealin' stuff. Us has to. Dey
+give us de peck of meal to last de week and two, three pound bacon in
+chunk. Us never have flour or sugar, jus' cornmeal and de meat and
+'taters. De niggers has de big box under de fireplace, where dey kep'
+all de pig and chickens what dey steal, down in salt.
+
+"I seed a man run away and de white men got de dogs and dey kotch him
+and put him in de front room and he jump through de big window and break
+de glass all up. Dey sho' whips him when dey kotches him.
+
+"De way dey whip de niggers was to strip 'em off naked and whip 'em till
+dey make blisters and bus' de blisters. Den dey take de salt and red
+pepper and put in de wounds. After dey wash and grease dem and put
+somethin' on dem, to keep dem from bleed to death.
+
+"When de boss man told us freedom was come he didn't like it, but he
+give all us de bale of cotton and some corn. He ask us to stay and he'p
+with de crop but we'uns so glad to git 'way dat nobody stays. I got
+'bout fifty dollars for de cotton and den I lends it to a nigger what
+never pays me back yit. Den I got no place to go, so I cooks for a white
+man name' Dick Cole. He sposen give me $5.00 de month but he never paid
+me no money. He'd give me eats and clothes, 'cause he has de little
+store.
+
+"Now, I's all alone and thinks of dem old times what was so bad, and I's
+ready for de Lawd to call me."
+
+
+
+
+420280
+
+
+     AGATHA BABINO, born a slave of Ogis Guidry, near Carenco,
+     Louisiana, now lives in a cottage on the property of the Blessed
+     Sacrament Church, in Beaumont, Texas. She says she is at least
+     eighty-seven and probably much older.
+
+
+"Old Marse was Ogis Guidry. Old Miss was Laurentine. Dey had four
+chillen, Placid, Alphonse and Mary and Alexandrine, and live in a big,
+one-story house with a gallery and brick pillars. Dey had a big place. I
+'spect a mile 'cross it, and fifty slaves.
+
+"My mama name was Clarice Richard. She come from South Carolina. Papa
+was Dick Richard. He come from North Carolina. He was slave of old
+Placid Guilbeau. He live near Old Marse. My brothers was Joe and
+Nicholas and Oui and Albert and Maurice, and sisters was Maud and
+Celestine and Pauline.
+
+"Us slaves lived in shabby houses. Dey builded of logs and have dirt
+floor. We have a four foot bench. We pull it to a table and set on it.
+De bed a platform with planks and moss.
+
+"We had Sunday off. Christmas was off, too. Dey give us chicken and
+flour den. But most holidays de white folks has company. Dat mean more
+work for us.
+
+"Old Marse bad. He beat us till we bleed. He rub salt and pepper in. One
+time I sweep de yard. Young miss come home from college. She slap my
+face. She want to beat me. Mama say to beat her, so dey did. She took de
+beatin' for me.
+
+"My aunt run off 'cause dey beat her so much. Dey brung her back and
+beat her some more.
+
+"We have dance outdoors sometime. Somebody play fiddle and banjo. We
+dance de reel and quadrille and buck dance. De men dance dat. If we go
+to dance on 'nother plantation we have to have pass. De patterrollers
+come and make us show de slip. If dey ain't no slip, we git beat.
+
+"I see plenty sojers. Dey fight at Pines and we hear ball go
+'zing--zing.' Young marse have blue coat. He put it on and climb a tree
+to see. De sojers come and think he a Yankee. Dey take his gun. Dey turn
+him loose when dey find out he ain't no Yankee.
+
+"When de real Yankees come dey take corn and gooses and hosses. Dey
+don't ask for nothin'. Dey take what dey wants.
+
+"Some masters have chillen by slaves. Some sold dere own chillen. Some
+sot dem free.
+
+"When freedom come we have to sign up to work for money for a year. We
+couldn't go work for nobody else. After de year some stays, but not
+long.
+
+"De Ku Klux kill niggers. Dey come to take my uncle. He open de door.
+Dey don't take him but tell him to vote Democrat next day or dey will.
+Dey kilt some niggers what wouldn't vote Democrat.
+
+"Dey kill my old uncle Davis. He won't vote Democrat. Dey shoot him. Den
+dey stand him up and let him fall down. Dey tie him by de feet. Dey drag
+him through de bresh. Dey dare his wife to cry.
+
+"When I thirty I marry Tesisfor Babino. Pere Abadie marry us at Grand
+Coteau. We have dinner with wine. Den come big dance. We have twelve
+chillen. We works in de field in Opelousas. We come here twenty-five
+year ago. He die in 1917. Dey let's me live here. It nice to be near de
+church. I can go to prayers when I wants to.
+
+
+
+
+420164
+
+
+     MRS. JOHN BARCLAY (nee Sarah Sanders) Brownwood, Texas was born in
+     Komo, Mississippi, September 1, 1853. She was born a slave at the
+     North Slades' place. Mr. and Mrs. North Slade were the only owners
+     she ever had. She served as nurse-maid for her marster's children
+     and did general housework. She, with her mother and father and
+     family stayed with the Slades until the end of the year after the
+     Civil War. They then moved to themselves, hiring out to "White
+     Folks."
+
+
+"My marster and mistress was good to all de slaves dat worked for dem.
+But our over-seer, Jimmy Shearer, was sho' mean. One day he done git mad
+at me for some little somethin' and when I take de ashes to de garden he
+catches me and churns me up and down on de groun'. One day he got mad
+at my brother and kicked him end over end, jes' like a stick of wood. He
+would whip us 'til we was raw and then put pepper and salt in de sores.
+If he thought we was too slow in doin' anything he would kick us off de
+groun' and churn us up and down. Our punishment depended on de mood of
+de over-seer. I never did see no slaves sold. When we was sick dey give
+us medicine out of drug stores. De over-seer would git some coarse
+cotton cloth to make our work clothes out of and den he would make dem
+so narrow we couldn' hardly' walk.
+
+"There was 1800 acres in Marster Slade's plantation, we got up at 5:00
+o'clock in de mornin' and de field workers would quit after sun-down. We
+didn' have no jails for slaves. We went to church with de white folks
+and there was a place in de back of de church for us to sit.
+
+"I was jes' a child den and us chilluns would gather in de back yard and
+sing songs and play games and dance jigs. Song I 'member most is 'The
+Day is Past and Gone.'
+
+"One time marster found out the over-seer was so mean to me, so he
+discharged him and released me from duty for awhile.
+
+"We never did wear shoes through de week but on Sunday we would dress up
+in our white cotton dresses and put on shoes.
+
+"We wasn't taught to read or write. Our owner didn't think anything
+about it. We had to work if there was work to be done. When we got
+caught up den we could have time off. If any of us got sick our mistress
+would 'tend to us herself. If she thought we was sick enough she would
+call de white doctor.
+
+"When de marster done told us we was free we jumped up and down and
+slapped our hands and shouted 'Glory to God!' Lord, child dat was one
+happy bunch of niggers. Awhile after dat some of de slaves told marster
+dey wanted to stay on with him like dey had been but he told 'em no dey
+couldn't, 'cause dey was free. He said he could use some of 'em but dey
+would have to buy what dey got and he would have to pay 'em like men.
+
+"When I was 'bout 18 years old I married John Barclay. I's had ten
+chillun and four gran'-chillun and now I lives by myself."
+
+
+
+
+420128
+
+
+     JOHN BARKER, age 84, Houston.
+
+     5 photographs marked _Green Cumby_ have been assigned to this
+     manuscript--the 'Green Cumby' photos are attached to the proper
+     manuscript and the five referred to above are probably pictures of
+     _John Barker_.
+
+
+     JOHN BARKER, age 84, was born near Cincinnati, Ohio, the property
+     of the Barker family, who moved to Missouri and later to Texas. He
+     and his wife live in a neat cottage in Houston, Texas.
+
+
+"I was born a slave. I'm a Malagasser (Madagascar) nigger. I 'member all
+'bout dem times, even up in Ohio, though de Barkers brought me to Texas
+later on. My mother and father was call Goodman, but dey died when I was
+little and Missy Barker raised me on de plantation down near Houston.
+Dey was plenty of work and plenty of room.
+
+"I 'member my grandma and grandpa. In dem days de horned toads runs over
+de world and my grandpa would gather 'em and lay 'em in de fireplace
+till dey dried and roll 'em with bottles till dey like ashes and den rub
+it on de shoe bottoms. You see, when dey wants to run away, dat stuff
+don't stick all on de shoes, it stick to de track. Den dey carries some
+of dat powder and throws it as far as dey could jump and den jump over
+it, and do dat again till dey use all de powder. Dat throwed de common
+hounds off de trail altogether. But dey have de bloodhounds, hell
+hounds, we calls 'em, and dey could pick up dat trail. Dey run my
+grandpa over 100 mile and three or four days and nights and found him
+under a bridge. What dey put on him was enough! I seen 'em whip runaway
+niggers till de blood run down dere backs and den put salt in de places.
+
+"I 'spect dere was 'bout 40 or 50 acres in de plantation. Dey worked and
+worked and didn't have no dances or church. Dances nothin!
+
+"My massa and missus house was nice, but it was a log house. They had
+big fireplaces what took great big chunks of wood and kep' fire all
+night. We lives in de back in a little bitty house like a chicken house.
+We makes beds out of posts and slats across 'em and fills tow sacks with
+shucks in 'em for mattress and pillows.
+
+"I seed slaves sold and they was yoked like steers and sold by pairs
+sometimes. Dey wasn't 'lowed to marry, 'cause they could be sold and it
+wasn't no use, but you could live with 'em.
+
+"We used to eat possums and dese old-fashioned coons and ducks.
+Sometimes we'd eat goats, too. We has plenty cornmeal and 'lasses and we
+gets milk sometimes, but we has no fine food, 'cept on Christmas, we
+gits some cake, maybe.
+
+"My grandma says one day dat we all is free, but we stayed with Massa
+Barker quite a while. Dey pays us for workin' but it ain't much pay,
+'cause de war done took dere money and all. But they was good to us, so
+we stayed.
+
+"I was 'bout 20 when I marries de fust time. It was a big blow-out and I
+was scared de whole time. First time I ever tackled marryin'. Dey had a
+big paper sack of rice and throwed it all over her and I, enough rice to
+last three or four days, throwed away jus' for nothin'. I had on a
+black, alpaca suit with frock tail coat and, if I ain't mistaken, a
+right white shirt. My wife have a great train on her dress and one dem
+things you call a wreath. I wore de loudest shoes we could find, what
+you call patent leather.
+
+"Dis here my third wife. We marries in Eagle Pass and comes up to de
+Seminole Reservation and works for de army till we goes to work for de
+Pattersons, and we been here 23 years now.
+
+"Ghosties? I was takin' care of a white man when he died and I seed
+something 'bout three feet high and black. I reckon I must have fainted
+'cause they has de doctor for me. And on dark nights I seed ghosties
+what has no head. Dey looks like dey wild and dey is all in different
+performance. When I goin' down de road and feel a hot steam and look
+over my shoulder I can see 'em plain as you standin' dere. I seed 'em
+when my wife was with me, but she can't see 'em, 'cause some people
+ain't gifted to see 'em.
+
+
+
+
+420133
+
+
+     JOE BARNES, 89, was born in Tyler Co., Texas, on Jim Sapp's
+     plantation. He is very feeble, but keeps his great grandchildren in
+     line while their mother works. They live in Beaumont. Joe is tall,
+     slight, and has gray hair and a stubby gray mustache. In his kind,
+     gentle voice he relates his experiences in slavery days.
+
+
+"Dey calls me Paul Barnes, but my name ain't Paul, it am Joe. My massa
+was Jim Sapp, up here in Tyler County, and missus' name was Ann. De Sapp
+place was big and dey raise' a sight of cotton and corn. Old massa Jim
+he have 'bout 25 or 30 slaves.
+
+"My mammy's name was Artimisi, but dey call her Emily, and pa's name
+Jerry Wooten, 'cause he live on de Wooten place. My steppa named Barnes
+and I taken dat name. My parents, dey have de broomstick weddin'.
+
+"When I's a chile us play marbles and run rabbits and ride de stick hoss
+and de like. When I gits more bigger, us play ball, sort of like
+baseball. One time my brudder go git de hosses and dey lots of rain and
+de creek swoll up high. De water so fast it wash him off he hoss and I
+ain't seed him since. Dey never find de body. He's 'bout ten year old
+den.
+
+"Massa live in de big box house and de quarters am in a row in de back.
+Some of dem box and some of dem log. Dey have two rooms. Every day de
+big, old cowhorn blow for dinner and us have de little tin cup what us
+git potlicker in and meat and cornbread and salt bacon. Us gits greens,
+too. De chimneys 'bout four feet wide and dey cooks everything in de
+fireplace. Dey have pots and ovens and put fire below and 'bove 'em.
+
+"I used to wear what I calls a one-button cutaway. It was jis' a shirt
+make out of homespun with pleats down front. Dey make dey own cloth dem
+time.
+
+"Massa marry de folks in de broomstick style. Us don' have de party but
+sometime us sing and play games, like de round dance.
+
+"Dey give de little ones bacon to suck and tie de string to de bacon and
+de other round dey wrists, so dey won't swallow or lose de bacon. For de
+little bits of ones dey rings de bell for dey mommers to come from de
+field and nuss 'em.
+
+"After freedom come us stay a year and den move to Beaumont and us work
+in de sawmill for Mr. Jim Long. De fust money I git I give to my mammy.
+Me and mammy and stepdaddy stays in Beaumont two years den moves to
+Tyler and plants de crop. But de next year us move back to Beaumont on
+de Langham place and mammy work for de Longs till she die.
+
+"When I git marry I marry Dicey Allen and she die and I never marry no
+more. I worked in sawmillin' and on de log pond and allus gits by pretty
+good. I ain't done no work much de last ten year, I's too old.
+
+"I sort a looks after my grandchillen and I sho' loves dem. I sits
+'round and hurts all de time. It am rheumatism in de feets, I reckon. I
+got six grandchillen and three great-grandchillen and dat one you hears
+cryin', dat de baby I's raisin' in dere.
+
+"I's feared I didn't tell you so much 'bout things way back, but da
+truth am, I can't 'member like I used to.
+
+
+
+
+420166
+
+
+     ARMSTEAD BARRETT, born in 1847, was a slave of Stafford Barrett,
+     who lived in Huntsville, Texas. He is the husband of Harriett
+     Barrett. Armstead has a very poor memory and can tell little about
+     early days. He and Harriet receive old age pensions.
+
+
+"I's really owned by Massa Stafford Barrett, but my mammy 'longed to
+Massa Ben Walker and was 'lowed to keep me with her. So after we'uns got
+free, I lives with my daddy and mammy and goes by de name of Barrett.
+Daddy's name was Henry Barrett and he's brung to Texas from Richmond, in
+Virginny, and mammy come from Kentucky. Us all lived in Huntsville. I
+waited on Miss Ann and mammy was cook.
+
+"Old massa have doctor for us when us sick. We's too val'ble. Jus' like
+to de fat beef, massa am good to us. Massa go to other states and git
+men and women and chile slaves and bring dem back to sell, 'cause he
+spec'lator. He make dem wash up good and den sell dem.
+
+"Mos' time we'uns went naked. Jus' have on one shirt or no shirt a-tall.
+
+"I know when peace 'clared dey all shoutin'. One woman hollerin' and a
+white man with de high-steppin' hoss ride clost to her and I see him git
+out and open he knife and cut her wide 'cross de stomach. Den he put he
+hat inside he shirt and rid off like lightnin'. De woman put in wagon
+and I never heered no more 'bout her.
+
+"I didn't git nothin' when us freed. Only some cast-off clothes. Long
+time after I rents de place on halves and farms most my life. Now I's
+too old to work and gits a pension to live on.
+
+"I seems to think us have more freedom when us slaves, 'cause we have no
+'sponsibility for sickness den. We have to take care all dat now and de
+white man, he beats de nigger out what he makes. Back in de old days, de
+white men am hones'. All the nigger knowed was hard work. I think de
+cullud folks ought to be 'lowed more privileges in votin' now, 'cause
+dey have de same 'sponsibility as white men and day more and more
+educated and brighter and brighter.
+
+"I think our young folks pretty sorry. They wont do right, but I 'lieve
+iffen dey could git fair wages dey'd do better. Dey git beat out of what
+dey does, anyway.
+
+"I 'member a owner had some slaves and de overseer had it in for two of
+dem. He'd whip dem near every day and dey does all could be did to
+please him. So one day he come to de field and calls one dem slaves and
+dat slave draps he hoe and goes over and grabs dat overseer. Den de
+other slave cut dat overseer's head right slap off and throwed it down
+one of de rows. De owner he fools 'round and sells dem two slaves for
+$800.00 each and dat all de punishment dem two slaves ever got.
+
+
+
+
+420167
+
+
+     HARRIET BARRETT, 86, was born in Walker Co., Texas, in 1851, a
+     slave of Steve Glass. She now lives in Palestine, Texas.
+
+
+"Massa Steve Glass, he own my pappy and mammy and me, until the war
+freed us. Pappy's borned in Africy and mammy in Virginy, and brung to
+Texas 'fore de war, and I's borned in Texas in 1851. I's heered my
+grandpa was wild and dey didn't know 'bout marryin' in Africy. My
+brother name Steve Glass and I dunno iffen I had sisters or not.
+
+"Dey put me to cookin' when I's a li'l kid and people says now dat Aunt
+Harriet am de bes' cook in Madisonville. Massa have great big garden and
+plenty to eat. I's cook big skillet plumb full corn at de time and us
+all have plenty meat. Massa, he step out and kill big deer and put in de
+great big pot and cook it. Then us have cornbread and syrup.
+
+"Us have log quarters with stick posts for bed and deerskin stretch over
+it. Den us pull moss and throw over dat. I have de good massa, bless he
+soul. Missy, she plumb good. She sick all de time and dey never have
+white chillen. Dey live in big, log house, four rooms in it and de great
+hall both ways through it.
+
+"Massa, he have big bunch slaves and work dem long as dey could see and
+den lock 'em up in de quarters at night to keep 'em from runnin' off. De
+patterrollers come and go through de quarters to see if all de niggers
+dere. Dey walk right over us when us sleeps.
+
+"Some slave run off, gwine to de north, and massa he cotch him and give
+him thirty-nine licks with rawhide and lock dem up at night, too, and
+keep chain on him in daytime.
+
+"I have de good massa, bless he soul, and missy she plumb good. I'll
+never forgit dem. Massa 'low us have holiday Saturday night and go to
+nigger dance if it on 'nother plantation. Boy, oh boy, de tin pan
+beatin' and de banjo pickin' and de dance all night long.
+
+"When de war start, white missy die, and massa have de preacher. She was
+white angel. Den massa marry Missy Alice Long and she de bad woman with
+us niggers. She hard on us, not like old missy.
+
+"I larned lots of remedies for sick people. Charcoal and onions and
+honey for de li'l baby am good, and camphor for de chills and fever and
+teeth cuttin'. I's boil red oak bark and make tea for fever and make
+cactus weed root tea for fever and chills and colic. De best remedy for
+chills and fever am to git rabbit foot tie on string 'round de neck.
+
+"Massa, he carry me to war with him, 'cause I's de good cook. In dat New
+Orleans battle he wounded and guns roarin' everywhere. Dey brung massa
+in and I's jus' as white as he am den. Dem Yankees done shoot de roof
+off de house. I nuss de sick and wounded clean through de war and seed
+dem dyin' on every side of me.
+
+"I's most scared to death when de war end. Us still in New Orleans and
+all de shoutin' dat took place 'cause us free! Dey crowds on de streets
+and was in a stir jus' as thick as flies on de dog. Massa say I's free
+as him, but iffen I wants to cook for him and missy I gits $2.50 de
+month, so I cooks for him till I marries Armstead Barrett, and then us
+farm for de livin'. Us have big church weddin' and I has white loyal
+dress and black brogan shoes. Us been married 51 years now.
+
+
+
+
+420150
+
+
+     JOHN BATES, 84, was born in Little Rock, Arkansas, a slave of Mock
+     Bateman. When still very young, John moved with his mother, a slave
+     of Harry Hogan, to Limestone Co., Texas. John now lives in
+     Corsicana, supported by his children and an old age pension.
+
+
+"My pappy was Ike Bateman, 'cause his massa's name am Mock Bateman, and
+mammy's name was Francis. They come from Tennessee and I had four
+brothers and six sisters. We jes' left de last part of de name off and
+call it Bates and dat's how I got my name. Mammy 'longed to Massa Harry
+Hogan and while I's small us move to Texas, to Limestone County, and I
+don't 'member much 'bout pappy, 'cause I ain't never seed him since.
+
+"Massa Hogan was a purty good sort of fellow, but us went hongry de fust
+winter in Texas. He lived in de big log house with de hallway clean
+through and a gallery clean 'cross de front. De chimney was big 'nough
+to burn logs in and it sho' throwed out de heat. It was a good, big
+place and young massa come out early and holler for us to git up and be
+in de field.
+
+"Missy Hogan was de good woman and try her dead level best to teach me
+to read and write, but my head jes' too thick, I jes' couldn't larn. My
+Uncle Ben he could read de Bible and he allus tell us some day us be
+free and Massa Harry laugh, haw, haw, haw, and he say, 'Hell, no, yous
+never be free, yous ain't got sense 'nough to make de livin' if yous was
+free.' Den he takes de Bible 'way from Uncle Ben and say it put de bad
+ideas in he head, but Uncle gits 'nother Bible and hides it and massa
+never finds it out.
+
+"We'uns goes to de big baptisin' one time and it's at de big sawmill
+tank and 50 is baptise' and I's in dat bunch myself. But dey didn't have
+no funerals for de slaves, but jes' bury dem like a cow or a hoss, jes'
+dig de hole and roll 'em in it and cover 'em up.
+
+"War come and durin' dem times jes' like today nearly everybody knows
+what gwine on, news travels purty fast, and iffen de slaves couldn't git
+it with de pass dey slips out after dark and go in another plantation by
+de back way. Course, iffen dem patterrollers cotch dem it jus' too bad
+and dey gits whip.
+
+"When de news comes in dat us free, Massa Harry never call us up like
+everybody else did the slaves, us has to go up and ask him 'bout it. He
+come out on de front gallery and says we is free and turns 'round and
+goes in de house without 'nother word. We all sho' feels sorry for him
+the way he acts and hates to leave him, but we wants to go. We knowed he
+wasn't able to give us nothin' so begins to scatter and 'bout ten or
+fifteen days Massa Harry dies. I think he jes' grieve himself to death,
+all he trouble comin' on him to once.
+
+"Us worked on diff'rent farms till I marries and my fust wife am Emma
+Williams and a cullud preacher marries us at her house. Us picked cotton
+after dat and den I rents a place on de halvers for five year and after
+sev'ral years I buys eighty acres of land. Fin'ly us done paid dat out
+and done some repairs and den us sep'rate after livin' twenty-three year
+together. So I gives dat place to her and de six chillen and I walks out
+ready to start all over 'gain.
+
+"Then I meets Sarah Jones and us marries, but she gives me de
+divorcement. All dis time I works on a farm for de day wages, den I
+rents 'nother farm on de halvers on de black land and stays dere sev'ral
+year. Fin'ly I gits de job workin' at de cotton oil mill in Corsicana
+and stays at dat job till dey says I's too old. I done buy dis li'l home
+here and now has a place to live. Sarah done come back to me and us has
+seven chillen. One of de boys works at de cotton oil mill and two works
+at de compress right here in Corsicana and one works at de beer place in
+Dallas.
+
+"Us raises a li'l on dese two lots and de chillen brings some from de
+farm, I mean my fust wife's chillen, and with de pension check us manage
+to live a li'l longer. Us boys pays de taxes and de insurance for us.
+
+
+
+
+420306
+
+
+     HARRISON BECKETT, born a slave of I.D. Thomas of San Augustine,
+     Texas, now lives in Beaumont. A great-grandson climbed into
+     Harrison's lap during the interview, and his genial face lit up
+     with a smile. He chuckled as he told of his own boyhood days, and
+     appeared to enjoy reminiscing. At times he uses big words, some of
+     his own coining.
+
+
+"I's 'mong de culls now, like a hoss what am too old. I's purty small
+yit when 'mancipation comes and didn't have no hard work. Old Massa have
+me and de other li'l niggers keep de stock out de fields. Us li'l
+boogers have to run and keep de cows out de corn and de cotton patch.
+Dat ought to been 'nough to keep us out of debbilment.
+
+"It come to pass my mammy work in de field. Her name Cynthia Thomas and
+daddy's name Isaac Thomas. But after freedom he goes back to Florida and
+find out he people and git he real name, and dat am Beckett. Dat 'bout
+ten years after 'mancipation he go back to he old home in Florida.
+Mammy's people was de Polkses, in Georgia. Mammy come in from de field
+at nine or ten o'clock at night and she be all wore out and too tired to
+cook lots of times. But she have to git some food for us. We all had a
+tin pan and git round de table and dat like a feast. But lots of times
+she's so tired she go to bed without eatin' nothin' herself.
+
+"My sisters was Ellen and Sani and Georgy-Ann and Cindy and Sidi-Ann.
+Dey's all big 'nough to work in de field. My brudders name Matthew and
+Ed and Henry and Harry, what am me, and de oldes' one am General Thomas.
+
+"Dey more'n a hundred head of black folks on Massa Thomas' two farms,
+and 'bout a hundred fifty acres in each farm. One de farms in iron ore,
+what am red land, and de other in gray land, half sand and half black
+dirt.
+
+"Us slaves live in pole houses and some in split log houses, with two
+rooms, one for to sleep in and one for to cook in. Day ain't
+no glass windows, jus' holes in de walls. Dere was jack beds to sleep
+on, made out of poles. Dey has four legs and ain't nail to de walls.
+
+"Old Massa he care for he hands purty well, considerin' everything. In
+ginnin' time he 'low de women to pick up cotton from de ground and make
+mattresses and quilts. He make some cloth and buy some. A woman weave
+all de time and when de shickle jump out on de floor I picks it up. I
+used to could knit socks and I was jes' a li'l boy then, but I keep
+everything in 'membrance.
+
+"Dey have some school and de chillen larnt readin' and writin', and
+manners and behaviour, too. Sometime dey git de broke-down white man to
+be teacher. But us didn't know much and it taken ten years or more after
+freedom to git de black men de qualification way he could handle things.
+
+"One time us boys git some watermillions out in de bresh and hit 'em or
+drap 'em to break 'em open. Dere come massa and cotch us not workin',
+but eatin' he watermillions. He tell my daddy to whip me. But lots of
+times when us sposed to mind de calves, us am out eatin' watermillions
+in de bresh. Den de calves git out and massa see dem run and cotch us.
+
+"Old massa was kind and good, though. He have partiality 'bout him, and
+wouldn't whip nobody without de cause. He whip with de long, keen switch
+and it didn't bruise de back, but sho' did sting. When he git real mad,
+he pull up you shirt and whip on de bare hide. One time he whippin' me
+and I busts de button off my shirt what he holdin' on to, and runs
+away. I tries to outrun him, and dat tickle him. I sho' give de ground
+fits with my feets. But dem whippin's done me good. Dey break me up from
+thievin' and make de man of me.
+
+"De way dey dress us li'l nigger boys den, dey give us a shirt what come
+way down 'tween de knees and ankles. When de weather am too cold, dey
+sometimes give us pants.
+
+"De white preachers come round and preach. Dey have de tabernacle like a
+arbor and cullud folks come from all round to hear de Gospel 'spounded.
+Most every farm have de cullud man larnin' to preach. I used to 'long to
+de Methodists but now I 'longs to de Church of Christ.
+
+"Massa Thomas, he de wholesale merchant and git kilt in New Orleans. A
+big box of freight goods fall on him, a box 'bout a yard square on de
+end and six yards long. He's carryin' back some good for to make
+exchangement and dey pullin' up de box with pulley and rope and it fall
+on him. De New Orleans folks say it am de accidentment, but de rest say
+de rope am cut. One of massa's old friends was Lawyer Brooks. He used to
+firmanize de word.
+
+"Massa have two boys, Mr. Jimmie and Li'l Ide and dey both goes to de
+war. Li'l Ide, he go up in Arkansas and dey say when dat first cannon
+busts at Li'l Rock, he starts runnin' and never stops till he gits back
+home. I don't see how he could do dat, 'cause Li'l Rock am way far off,
+but dat what dey say. Den de men comes to git 'serters and dey gits Li'l
+Ide and takes him back. Mr. Jimmie, he didn't break de ranks. He stood
+he ground.
+
+"Mammy and dem tell me when war am over de boss and he wife, dey calls
+de slaves up in de bunch and tells 'em, 'You's free as I is. Keep on or
+quit, if you wants. You don't have to stay no further, you's free
+today.' Dat near June 19th, and all of 'em stays. Massa say, 'Go 'head
+and finish de crop and I feed you and pay you.' Dey all knowed when he
+kilt de hawgs us git plenty of meat. Dat young massa say all dat, 'cause
+old massa done git kilt.
+
+"It's at Panola County where I first hears of de Klux. Dey call dem
+White Caps den. Dey move over in Panola County and ranges at de place
+call Big Creek Merval by McFaddin Creek. Dey's purty rough. De
+landowners tell dey niggers not to kill de White Caps but to scare dem
+'way. At night dey come knock and if you don't open it dey pry it open
+and run you out in de field. Dey run de niggers from Merryville round
+Longview. Dey some good men in de Klux and some bad men. But us work
+hard and go home and dey ain't bother us none.
+
+"Dey used to be a nigger round dere, call Bandy Joe. He git kilt at
+Nacogdoches fin'ly. He could turn into anything. De jedge of he parish
+was Massa Lee and he say dey ought let Bandy Joe live, so dey could larn
+he art. Dey done try cotch him de long time, and maybe be holdin' him
+and first thing they know he gone and dey left holdin' he coat. Dey
+shoot at him and not hurt him. He tell he wife dey ain't no kind bullet
+can hurt him but de silver bullet.
+
+"Dat Bandy Joe, he say he a spirit and a human both. Iffen he didn't
+want you to see him you jus' couldn't see him. Lots of folks liked him.
+De jedge say he wish he could'a been brung to town, so he could 'zamine
+him 'bout he gifts. De jedge knowed Bandy Joe could dis'pear jus' like
+nothin', and he like to hear he quotation how he git out he skin. I'd
+like to know dat myself.
+
+"I 'magines I seed ghosties two, three times. I used to range round at
+nighttime. I rides through a old slavery field and de folks tell me,
+'Harry, you better be careful gwine 'cross dat old field. They's things
+dere what makes mules run 'way. One night it am late and my mule run
+'way. I make my mind I go back and see what he run from and somethin' am
+by de fence like de bear stand up straight. It stand dere 'bout fifteen
+minutes while I draws my best 'pinion of it. I didn't get any nearer dan
+to see it. A man down de road tell me de place am hanted and he dunno
+how many wagons and mules git pull by dat thing at dat place.
+
+"One time I's livin' 'nother place and it am 'twixt sundown and dusk. I
+had a li'l boy 'hind me and I seed a big sow with no head comin' over de
+fence. My ma, she allus say what I see might be 'magination and to turn
+my head and look 'gain and I does dat. But it still dere. Den I seed a
+hoss goin' down de road and he drag a chain, and cross de bridge and
+turn down de side road. But when I git to de side road I ain't seed no
+hoss or nothin'. I didn't say nothin' to de li'l boy 'hind me on de mule
+till I gits most home, den asks him did he see anythin'. He say no. I
+wouldn't tell him 'fore dat, 'cause I 'fraid he light out and outrun me
+and I didn't want to be by myself with dem things. When I gits home and
+tell everybody, dey say dat a man name McCoy, what was kilt dere and I
+seed he spirit.
+
+"I's 'bout twenty-one when I marries Mandy Green. Us has twelve chillen,
+and a world of grandchillen. I travels all over Louisiana and Texas in
+my time, and come here three year ago. My son he work in de box fact'ry
+here, and he git a bodily injurement while he workin' and die, and I
+come here to de burial and I been here ever since.
+
+
+
+
+420269
+
+
+     FRANK BELL, 86, was a slave of Johnson Bell, who ran a saloon in
+     New Orleans. Frank lives in Madisonville, Texas.
+
+
+"I was owned by Johnson Bell and born in New Orleans, in Louisiana.
+'Cordin' to the bill of sale, I'm eighty-six years old, and my master
+was a Frenchman and was real mean to me. He run saloon and kept bad
+women. I don't know nothing 'bout my folks, if I even had any, 'cept
+mama. They done tell me she was a bad woman and a French Creole.
+
+"I worked 'round master's saloon, kep' everything cleaned up after
+they'd have all night drinkin' parties, men and women. I earned nickels
+to tip off where to go, so's they could sow wild oats. I buried the
+nickels under rocks. If master done cotch me with money, he'd take it
+and beat me nearly to death. All I had to eat was old stuff those people
+left, all scraps what was left.
+
+"One time some bad men come to master's and gits in a shootin' scrape
+and they was two men kilt. I sho' did run. But master cotch me and make
+me take them men to the river and tie a weight on them, so they'd sink
+and the law wouldn't git him.
+
+"The clothes I wore was some master's old ones. They allus had holes in
+them. Master he stay drunk nearly all time and was mean to his slave.
+I'm the only one he had, and didn't cost him nothing. He have bill of
+sale made, 'cause the law say he done stole me when I'm small child.
+Master kept me in chains sometimes. He shot several men.
+
+"I didn't have no quarters but stays 'round the place and throw old sack
+down and lay there and sleep. I'm 'fraid to run, 'cause master say he'd
+hunt me and kill nigger.
+
+"When I's 'bout seventeen I marries a gal while master on drunk spell.
+Master he run her off, and I slips off at night to see her, but he finds
+it out. He takes a big, long knife and cuts her head plumb off, and ties
+a great, heavy weight to her and makes me throw her in the river. Then
+he puts me in chains and every night he come give me a whippin', for
+long time.
+
+"When war come, master swear he not gwine fight, but the Yankees they
+captures New Orleans and throws master in a pen and guards him. He gets
+a chance and 'scapes.
+
+"When war am over he won't free me, says I'm valuable to him in his
+trade. He say, 'Nigger, you's suppose to be free but I'll pay you a
+dollar a week and iffen you runs off I'll kill you.' So he makes me do
+like befo' the war, but give me 'bout a dollar a month, 'stead week.
+
+"He say I cost more'n I'm worth, but he won't let me go. Times I don't
+know why I didn't die befo' I'm growed, sleepin' on the ground, winter
+and summer, rain and snow. But not much snow there.
+
+"Master helt me long years after the war. If anybody git after him, he
+told them I stay 'cause I wants to stay, but told me if I left he'd kill
+him 'nother nigger. I stayed till he gits in a drunk brawl one night
+with men and women and they gits to shootin' and some kilt. Master got
+kilt. Then I'm left to live or die, so I wanders from place to place. I
+nearly starved to death befo' I'd leave New Orleans, 'cause I couldn't
+think master am dead and I'm 'fraid. Finally I gits up nerve to leave
+town, and stays the first night in white man's barn. I never slep'.
+Every time I hears something, I jumps up and master be standin' there,
+lookin' at me, but soon's I git up he'd leave. Next night I slep' out in
+a hay field, and master he git right top of a tree and start hollerin at
+me. I never stays in that place. I gits gone from that place. I gits
+back to town fast as my legs carry me.
+
+"Then I gits locked up in jail. I don't know what for, never did know.
+One the men says to me to come with him and takes me to the woods and
+gives me an ax. I cuts rails till I nearly falls, all with chain locked
+'round feet, so I couldn't run off. He turns me loose and I wanders
+'gain. Never had a home. Works for men long 'nough to git fifty, sixty
+cents, then starts roamin' 'gain, like a stray dog like.
+
+"After long time I marries Feline Graham. Then I has a home and we has a
+white preacher marry us. We has one boy and he farms and I lives with
+him. I worked at sawmill and farms all my life, but never could make
+much money.
+
+"You know, the nigger was wild till the white man made what he has out
+of the nigger. He done ed'cate them real smart.
+
+
+
+
+420193
+
+
+     Aunt VIRGINIA BELL, 1205 Ruthven St., Houston, was born a slave
+     near Opelousas, Louisiana, on the plantation of Thomas Lewis.
+     Although she remembers being told she was born on Christmas Day,
+     she does not know the year, but says she guesses she is about 88
+     years old.
+
+
+"Well, suh, the fus' question you ask me, 'bout how old I is, I don'
+know 'zactly. You see it ain't like things is today. The young folks can
+tell you their 'zact age and everything, but in those days we didn' pay
+much 'tention to such things. But I knows I was bo'n in slavery times
+and my pappy tol' me I was bo'n on a Christmas Day, but didn' 'member
+jus' what year.
+
+"We was owned by Massa Lewis. Thomas Lewis was his name, and he was a
+United States lawyer. I ain't gwineter talk 'gainst my white folks like
+some cullud folks do, 'cause Massa Lewis was a mighty fine man and so
+was Miss Mary, and they treated us mighty good.
+
+"Massa had a big plantation near Opelousas and I was bo'n there. I
+'member the neighbor folks used to bring their cotton to the gin on his
+farm for ginnin' and balin'. My mother's name was Della. That was all,
+jus' Della. My pappy's name was Jim Blair. Both of them was from
+Virginny, but from diff'rent places, and was brought to Louisiana by
+nigger traders and sold to Massa Lewis. I know my pappy was lots older
+than my mother and he had a wife and five chillen back in Virginny and
+had been sold away from them out here. Then he and my mother started a
+family out here. I don' know what become of his family back in Virginny,
+'cause when we was freed he stayed with us.
+
+"When I got old enough I was housegirl and used to carry notes for Miss
+Mary to the neighbors and bring back answers. Miss Mary would say, 'Now,
+Virginny, you take this note to sech and sech place and be sure and be
+back in sech and sech time,' and I allus was.
+
+"Massa Lewis had four or five families of us slaves, but we used to have
+some fun after work and us young folks would skip rope and play ring
+games. Durin' week days the field hands would work till the sun was jus'
+goin' down and then the overseer would holler 'all right' and that was
+the signal to quit. All hands knocked off Sat'day noon.
+
+"We didn' have no schoolin' or preachin'. Only the white folks had them,
+but sometimes on Sundays we'd go up to the house and listen to the white
+folks singin'.
+
+"Iffen any of the slave hands wanted to git married, Massa Lewis would
+git them up to the house after supper time, have the man and woman jine
+hands and then read to them outen a book. I guess it was the Scriptures.
+Then he'd tell 'em they was married but to be ready for work in the
+mornin'. Massa Lewis married us 'cordin' to Gospel.
+
+"Massa used to feed us good, too, and we had plenty clothes. Iffen we
+got took sick, we had doctor treatment, too. Iffen a hand took sick in
+the field with a misery, they was carried to their quarters and Massa or
+Miss Mary would give them a dose of epecac and make them vomit and would
+sen' for the doctor. They wouldn' fool none iffen one of us took sick,
+but would clean us out and take care of us till we was well.
+
+"There was mighty little whippin' goin' on at our place, 'cause Massa
+Lewis and Miss Mary treated us good. They wasn't no overseer goin' to
+whip, 'cause Massa wouldn' 'low him to. Le's see, I don' rec'lec' more
+than two whippin's I see anyone git from Massa, and that has been so
+long ago I don' rec'lec' what they was for.
+
+"When the War done come 'long it sho' changed things, and we heerd this
+and that, but we didn' know much what it was about. Then one day Massa
+Lewis had all the wagons loaded with food and chairs and beds and other
+things from the house and our quarters, and I heerd him say we was
+movin' to Polk County, way over in Texas. I know it took us a long time
+to git there, and when we did I never see so much woods. It sho' was
+diff'rent from the plantation.
+
+"I had to work in the fields, same as the res', and we stayed there
+three years and made three crops of cotton, but not so much as on our
+old place, 'cause there wasn't so much clearin'. Then one day Massa
+Lewis tol' us we was free, jus' as free as he was--jus' like you take
+the bridle offen a hoss and turn him loose. We jus' looked 'roun as
+iffen we hadn' good sense. We didn' have nothin' nor nowhere to go, and
+Massa Lewis say iffen we finish makin' de crop, he would take us back to
+Opelousas and give us a place to stay and feed us. So after pickin' we
+goes back and when we git there we sees where those rascal Yankees
+'stroyed everything--houses burned, sugar kettles broke up. It looked
+mighty bad.
+
+"Massa Lewis hadn' no money, but he fixed us up a place to stay and give
+us what he could to eat, but things was mighty hard for a while. I know
+pappy used to catch rabbits and take them to town and sell them or trade
+them for somethin' to eat, and you know that wasn't much, 'cause you
+can't git much for a little ol' rabbit.
+
+"Then the Provo' Marshal, that was his name, give us a order for things
+to put in a crop with and to live till we made the crop. 'Course, I
+guess we wasn' as bad off as some, 'cause white folks knew we was Massa
+Lewis' folks and didn' bother us none.
+
+Then I got married to John Bell, and it was a scripture weddin', too. He
+died 28 years ago, but I has stayed married to him ever since. We had
+thirteen chillen, but they is all dead now 'cept four, but they was
+raised up right and they is mighty good to they ol' mammy.
+
+
+
+
+420114
+
+
+[Illustration: Edgar and Minerva Bendy]
+
+
+     EDGAR BENDY, 90 odd years, was the slave of Henry Bendy, of
+     Woodville, Texas, has to make an effort to remember and is forced
+     to seek aid from his wife, Minerva, at certain points in his story.
+     Edgar has lived in Woodville all his life.
+
+
+"I's a good size' boy when de war gwine on and I seed de soldiers come
+right here in Woodville. A big bunch of dem come through and dey have
+cannons with dem. My marster he didn't go to war, 'cause he too old, I
+guess.
+
+"I's born right here and done live hereabouts every since. Old man Henry
+Bendy, he my marster and he run de store here in Woodville and have de
+farm, too. I didn't do nothin' 'cept nuss babies. I jes' jump dem up and
+down and de old marster hire me out to nuss other white folks chillen,
+big and little.
+
+"My daddy name' Jack Crews and my mammy was Winnie. Both of dem worked
+on de farm and I never seed dem much. I didn't have no house of my own,
+'cause de marster, he give me de room in he house. He have lots of
+slaves and 'bout 100 acres in cult'vation. He gave dem plenty to eat and
+good homespun clothes to wear. He was mighty good.
+
+"Marster have de plank house and all de things in it was home-made. De
+cook was a old cullud woman and I eat at de kitchen table and have de
+same what de white folks eats. Us has lots of meat, deer meat and possum
+and coon and sich, and us sets traps for birds.
+
+"Dey ain't nothin' better dat go in de wood dan de big, fat possum. Dey
+git fat on black haws and acorns and chinquapin and sich. Chinquapin is
+good for people to eat and to roast. I used to be plumb give up to be de
+best hunter in Tyler and in de whole country. I kilt more deer dan any
+other man in de county and I been guide for all de big men what comes
+here to hunt. My wife, Minerva, she used to go huntin' with me.
+
+"I kep' on huntin' and huntin' till de Jack-a-my-lanterns git after me.
+Dat a light you sees all 'round you. Dey follow all 'long and dey stop
+you still. Den one time it git all over me. Come like de wind, blow,
+blow, and come jes' like fire all on my arm and my clothes and things. When
+dat git after me I quit huntin' at nighttime and ain't been huntin'
+since.
+
+"One time I fishin' on de creek and I ain't got no gun, and I look up
+and dere a big, wild cat. He never pay me no mind, no more dan nothin',
+but dat ain't made no diff'rence to me. I jes' flew in dat creek!
+
+"I used to belong to de lodge but when I git so old I couldn't pay my
+jews, I git unfinancial and I ain't a member no more.
+
+
+
+
+420174
+
+
+     MINERVA BENDY, 83, was born a slave to Lazarus Goolsby, Henry Co.
+     Alabama, who brought her to Texas when she was five. They settled
+     near Woodville, where Minerva still lives.
+
+
+"My earlies' 'membrance was de big, white sandy road what lead 'way from
+de house. It was clean and white and us chillen love to walk in de soft,
+hot sand. Dat in Henry County, Alabama, where I's born and my old
+marster was Lazarus Goolsby and he have de big plantation with lots of
+nigger folks. I 'member jus' as good as yesterday wigglin' my toes in
+dat sandy road and runnin' 'way to de grits mill where dey grind de
+meal. Dat have de big water wheel dat sing and squeak as it go 'round.
+
+"Aunt Mary, she make all us little chillen sleep in de heat of de day
+under de big, spreadin' oak tree in de yard. My mama have 17 chillen.
+Her name Dollie and my daddy name Herd.
+
+"I's jus' a little chile in dem days and I stay in de house with de
+white folks. Dey raise me a pet in de family. Missus Goolsby, she have
+two gals and dey give me to de oldest. When she die dey put me in de bed
+with her but iffen I knowed she dyin' dey wouldn't been able to cotch
+me. She rub my head and tell her papa and mama, 'I's gwine 'way but I
+wants you promise you ain't never whip my little nigger.' Dey never did.
+
+"I's jus' 'bout five year old when us make de trip to Texas. Us come
+right near Woodville and make de plantation. It a big place and dey
+raise corn and cotton and cane. We makes our own sugar and has many as
+six kettle on de furnace at one time. Dey raise dey tobacco, too. I's
+sick and a old man he say he make me tobacco medicine and dey dry de
+leafs and make dem sweet like sugar and feed me like candy.
+
+"I 'member old marster say war broke out and Capt. Collier's men was
+a-drillin' right dere south of Woodville. All de wives and chillen watch
+dem drill. Dey was lots of dem, but I couldn't count. De whole shebang
+from de town go watch dem.
+
+"Four of the Goolsby boys goes to dat war and dey call John and Ziby and
+Zabud and Addison. Zabud, he git wounded, no he git kilt, and Addison he
+git wounded. I worry den, 'cause I ain't see no reason for dem to have
+to die.
+
+"After us free dey turn us loose in de woods and dat de bad time, 'cause
+most us didn't know where to turn. I wasn't raise to do nothin' and I
+didn't know how. Dey didn't even give us a hoecake or a slice of bacon.
+
+"I's a June bride 59 year ago when I git married. De old white Baptist
+preacher name Blacksheer put me and dat nigger over dere, Edgar Bendy,
+togedder and us been togedder ever since. Us never have chick or chile.
+I's such a good nuss I guess de Lawd didn't want me to have none of my
+own, so's I could nuss all de others and I 'spect I's nussed most de
+white chillen and cullud, too, here in Woodville.
+
+
+
+
+420177
+
+
+     SARAH BENJAMIN, 82, was born a slave of the Gilbert family, in
+     Clavin Parish, Louisiana. In 1867 she married Cal Benjamin and they
+     settled in Corsicana, Texas, where Sarah now lives.
+
+
+"I is Sarah Benjamin and is 82 year old, 'cause my mammy told me I's
+born in 1855 in Clavin Parish in Louisiana. Her name was Fannie and my
+pappy's name Jack Callahan. There was jus' three of us chillen and I's
+de oldest.
+
+"Marse Gilbert was tol'able good to we'uns, and give us plenty to eat.
+He had a smokehouse big as a church and it was full, and in de big
+kitchen we all et, chillen and all. De grown folks et first and den de
+chillen. Did we have plenty of possums and fish by de barrels full! All
+dis was cooked in de racks over de fireplace and it were good.
+
+"Our clothes was all homespun and de shoes made by de shoemaker. Old
+marse wanted all us to go to church and if dey didn't have shoes dey
+have something like de moccasin.
+
+"I don't know how many slaves there was, but it was a lot, maybe 60 or
+70. Dey worked hard every day 'cept Sunday. Iffen they was bad they
+might git whuppin's, but not too hard, not to de blood. Iffen dey was
+still bad, dey puts chains on dem and puts dem in de stocks, 'cause
+there wasn't no jail there.
+
+"Once when I's little, marse stripped me stark modern naked and puts me
+on de block, but he wouldn't sell me, 'cause he was bid only $350.00 and
+he say no, 'cause I was good and fat.
+
+"Dey didn't larn us nothin' and iffen you did larn to write, you better
+keep it to yourse'f, 'cause some slaves got de thumb or finger cut off
+for larnin' to write. When de slaves come in from de fields dey didn't
+larn nothin', they jus' go to bed, 'lessen de moonshine nights come and
+dey could work in de tobacco patch. De marster give each one de little
+tobacco patch and iffen he raised more'n he could use he could sell it.
+
+"On Christmas we all has de week vacation and maybe de dance. We allus
+have de gran' dinner on dat day, and no whuppin's. But dey couldn't
+leave de plantation without de pass, even on Christmas.
+
+"De women had to run de gin in de daytime and de man at night. Dey fed
+de old gin from baskets and my mammy fed from dose baskets all day with
+de high fever and died dat night. She wouldn't tell de marster she sick,
+fer fear she have to take de quinine.
+
+"De day we was freed, de slaves jus' scattered, 'cepting me. Missy
+Gilbert says I wasn't no slave no more but I had to stay and he'p her
+for my board 'till I's grown. I stayed 'till I was 'bout 16, den I runs
+away and marries Cal Benjamin, and we comes to Texas. Cal and me has six
+chillen, but he died 'fore dey was grown.
+
+
+
+
+420023
+
+
+     JACK BESS was born near Goliad, Texas in 1854, a slave of Steve
+     Bess who was a rancher. He worked with stock as a very young boy
+     and this was his duty during and after the Civil War, as he
+     remained with his boss for three years after emancipation. He then
+     came to old Ben Ficklin four miles south of the present San Angelo,
+     Texas, when it was the county seat of Tom Green County and before
+     there was a San Angelo. He continued his work on ranches here and
+     has never done any other kind of work. For the past several years
+     he has been very feeble and has made his home with a daughter in
+     San Angelo, Texas.
+
+
+Jack who was assisted out of bed and dressed by his grandson, hobbled in
+on his cane and said, "I was jes' a small boy workin' on de ranch when I
+hear talk 'bout conscription' de men for de war what was agoin' to set
+de slaves free. We didn' know hardly what dey was a talkin' 'bout 'cause
+we knowed dat would be too good to be true. I jes' keeps on workin' wid
+my hosses and my cattle (dere wasn't no sheep den) jes' like dere wasn't
+no war, 'cause dat was all I ever knowed how to do.
+
+"Our ole marster, he wasn't so very mean to us, course he whips us once
+and awhile but dat wasn't like de slave holders what had dem colored
+drivers. Dey sho' was rough on de slaves. I's been told lots 'bout de
+chains and de diffe'nt punishments but our treatment wasn't so bad. Our
+beds was pretty good when we uses dem. Lots of de time we jes' sleeps on
+de groun', 'specially in summer.
+
+"Our log huts was comfortable and we had some kind of floors in all of
+dem. Some was plank and some was poles but dat was better den de dirt
+floors some cabins have.
+
+"De eats we have was jes' good eats, lots of meats and vegetables and de
+like; 'possum and coon and beef and pork all cooked good. Our clothes
+was jes' home spun like all de others.
+
+"We didn' have such a big ranch and not many slaves but we all gits
+along. We learns a little 'bout readin' and writin'.
+
+"I don't 'member any camp meetin's 'til after de war. We had a few den
+and on Christmas times we jes' tears up de country. Lawdy! Lawd! Dat
+fiddlin' went on all night, and we dance awhile den lay down and sleeps,
+den gits up and dances some mo'e. We would have big cakes and
+everything good to eat.
+
+"When we gits sick dey jes' gives us some kind of tea, mostly made from
+weeds. Mos' of de time we gits well.
+
+"When de news comes dat we was free our boss, he say, 'You free now.'
+Course we was glad but we didn' know nothin' to do but jes' stay on
+dere, and we did 'bout three years and de boss pays us a little by de
+month for our work.
+
+"I's lef' dere den and comes to old Ben Ficklin to work on a ranch. Dat
+was before dere was any San Angelo, Texas. I's been here ever since,
+jes' a workin' from one ranch to another long as I was able. Now I's
+jes' stayin' 'round wid my chillun and dey takes good care of me."
+
+
+
+
+420170
+
+
+     ELLEN BETTS, 118 N. Live Oak St., Houston, Texas, is 84. All of her
+     people and their masters came from Virginia and settled in
+     Louisiana about 1853. Her grandparents belonged to the Green family
+     and her parents, Charity and William Green, belonged to Tolas
+     Parsons. Ellen lives with friends who support her. Her sole
+     belonging is an old trunk and she carries the key on a string
+     around her neck.
+
+
+"I got borned on de Bayou Teche, clost to Opelousas. Dat in St. Mary's
+Parish, in Louisiana, and I belonged to Tolas Parsons, what had 'bout
+500 slaves, countin' de big ones and de little ones, and he had God know
+what else. When my eyes jes' barely fresh open, Marse Tolas die and will
+de hull lot of us to he brother, William Tolas. And I tells you dat
+Marse William am de greates' man what ever walk dis earth. Dat's de
+truth. I can't lie on him when de pore man's in he grave.
+
+"When a whuppin' got to be done, old Marse do it heself. He don't 'low
+no overseer to throw he gals down and pull up dere dress and whup on
+dere bottoms like I hear tell some of 'em do. Was he still livin' I
+'spect one part of he hands be with him today. I knows I would.
+
+"When us niggers go down de road folks say, 'Dem's Parson's niggers.
+Don't hit one dem niggers for God's sake, or Parsons sho' eat your
+jacket up.'
+
+"Aunt Rachel what cook in de big house for Miss Cornelia had four
+young'uns and dem chillen fat and slick as I ever seen. All de niggers
+have to stoop to Aunt Rachel jes' like dey curtsy to Missy. I mind de
+time her husband, Uncle Jim, git mad and hit her over de head with de
+poker. A big knot raise up on Aunt Rachel's head and when Marse 'quire
+'bout it, she say she done bump de head. She dassn't tell on Uncle Jim
+or Marse sho' beat him. Marse sho' proud dem black, slick chillen of
+Rachels. You couldn't find a yaller chile on he place. He sho' got no
+use for mixin' black and white.
+
+"Marse William have de pretties' place up and down dat bayou, with de
+fine house and fine trees and sech. From where we live it's five mile to
+Centerville one way and five mile to Patterson t'other. Dey hauls de
+lumber from one place or t'other to make wood houses for de slaves.
+Sometime Marse buy de furniture and sometime de carpenter make it.
+
+"Miss Sidney was Marse's first wife and he had six boys by her. Den he
+marry de widow Cornelius and she give him four boys. With ten chillen
+springin' up quick like dat and all de cullud chillen comin' 'long fast
+as pig litters, I don't do nothin' all my days, but nuss, nuss, nuss. I
+nuss so many chillen it done went and stunted my growth and dat's why I
+ain't nothin' but bones to dis day.
+
+"When de cullud women has to cut cane all day till midnight come and
+after, I has to nuss de babies for dem and tend de white chillen, too.
+Some dem babies so fat and big I had to tote de feet while 'nother gal
+tote de head. I was sech a li'l one, 'bout seven or eight year old. De
+big folks leave some toddy for colic and cryin' and sech and I done
+drink de toddy and let de chillen have de milk. I don't know no better.
+Lawsy me, it a wonder I ain't de bigges' drunker in dis here country,
+countin' all de toddy I done put in my young belly!
+
+"When late of night come, iffen dem babies wake up and bawl, I set up a
+screech and out-screech dem till dey shut dere mouth. De louder day bawl
+de louder I bawl. Sometime when Marse hear de babies cry, he come down
+and say, 'Why de chillen cry like dat, Ellen?' I say, 'Marse, I git so
+hongry and tired I done drink de milk up.' When I talk sassy like dat,
+Marse jes' shake he finger at me, 'cause he knowed I's a good one and
+don't let no little mite starve.
+
+"Nobody ever hit me a lick. Marse allus say bein' mean to de young'uns
+make dem mean when dey grows up and nobody gwineter buy a mean nigger.
+Marse don't even let de chillen go to de big cane patch. He plant little
+bitty patches close to de house and each li'l nigger have a patch and he
+work it till it got growed. Marse have de house girls make popcorn for
+'em and candy.
+
+"I nuss de sick folks too. Sometime I dose with Blue Mass pills and
+sometime Dr. Fawcett leave rhubarb and ipicac and calomel and castor oil
+and sech. Two year after de war, I git marry and git chillen of my own
+and den I turn into de wet nuss. I wet nuss de white chillen and black
+chillen, like dey all de same color. Sometime I have a white'un pullin'
+de one side and a black one de other.
+
+"I wanted to git de papers for midwifin' but, law, I don't never have no
+time for larnin' in slave time. If Marse cotch a paper in you hand he
+sho' whop you. He don't 'low no bright niggers 'round, he sell 'em
+quick. He allus say, 'Book larnin' don't raise no good sugar cane.' De
+only larnin' he 'low was when dey larn de cullud chillen de Methodist
+catechism. De only writin' a nigger ever git, am when he git born or
+marry or die, den Marse put de name in de big book.
+
+Law, I 'lect de time Marse marry Miss Cornelia. He went on de mail boat
+and brung her from New Orleans. She de pretties' woman in de world
+almost, 'ceptin' she have de bigges' mouth I nearly ever seed. He brung
+her up to de house and all de niggers and boys and girls and cats and
+dogs and sech come and salute her. Dere she stand on de gallery, with a
+purty white dress on with red stripes runnin' up and down. Marse say to
+her, 'Honey, see all de black folks, dey 'longs to you now.' She wave to
+us and smile on us and nex' day she give her weddin' dress to my ma. Dat
+de fines' dress I ever seen. It was purple and green silk and all de
+nigger gals wear dat dress when dey git marry. My sister Sidney wore it
+and Sary and Mary.
+
+"Miss Cornelia was de fines' woman in de world. Come Sunday mornin' she
+done put a bucket of dimes on de front gallery and stand dere and throw
+dimes to de nigger chillen jes' like feedin' chickens. I sho' right here
+to test'fy, 'cause I's right dere helpin' grab. Sometime she done put da
+washtub of buttermilk on de back gallery and us chillen bring us gourds
+and dip up dat good, old buttermilk till it all git drunk up. Sometime
+she fotch bread and butter to de back gallery and pass it out when it
+don't even come mealtime.
+
+"Miss Cornelia set my ma to cuttin' patterns and sewin' right away. She
+give all de women a bolt or linsey to make clothes and ma cut de
+pattern. Us all have de fine drawers down to de ankle, buttoned with
+pretty white buttons on de bottom. Lawsy, ma sho' cut a mite of drawers,
+with sewin' for her eleven gals and four boys, too. In de summertime we
+all git a bolt of blue cloth and white tape for trimmin', to make Sunday
+dresses. For de field, all de niggers git homespun what you make jumpers
+out of. I 'lect how Marse say, 'Don't go into de field dirty Monday
+mornin'. Scrub youself and put on de clean jumper.'
+
+"Marse sho' good to dem gals and bucks what cuttin' de cane. When dey
+git done makin' sugar, he give a drink call 'Peach 'n Honey' to de women
+folk and whiskey and brandy to de men. And of all de dancin' and
+caperin' you ever seen! My pa was fiddler and we'd cut de pigeon wing
+and cut de buck and every other kind of dance. Sometime pa git tired and
+say he ain't gwineter play no more and us gals git busy and pop him corn
+and make candy, so to 'tice him to play more.
+
+"Marse sho' turn over in he grave did he know 'bout some dat 'lasses.
+Dem black boys don't care. I seen 'em pull rats out de sugar barrel and
+dey taste de sugar and say, 'Ain't nothin' wrong with dat sugar. It
+still sweet.' One day a pert one pull a dead scorpion out de syrup
+kettle and he jes' laugh and say, 'Marse don't want waste none dis
+syrup,' and he lick de syrup right off dat scorpion's body and legs.
+
+"Lawsy me, I seen thousands and thousands sugar barrels and kettles of
+syrup in my day. Lawd knows how much cane old Marse have. To dem cuttin'
+de cane it don't seem so much, but to dem what work hour in, hour out,
+dem sugar cane fields sho' stretch from one end de earth to de other.
+Marse ship hogs and hogs of sugar down de bayou. I seen de river boats
+go down with big signs what say, 'Buy dis here 'lasses' on de side. And
+he raise a world of rice and 'taters and corn and peanuts, too.
+
+"When de work slight, us black folks sho have de balls and dinners and
+sech. We git all day to barbecue meat down on de bayou and de white
+folks come down and eat long side de cullud.
+
+"When a black gal marry, Marse marry her hisself in de big house. He
+marry 'em Saturday, so dey git Sunday off, too. One time de river boat
+come bearin' de license for niggers to git marry with. Marse chase 'em
+off and say, 'Don't you come truckin' no no-count papers roun' my
+niggers. When I marry 'em, dey marry as good as if de Lawd God hisself
+marry 'em and it don't take no paper to bind de tie.' Marse don't stand
+no messin' 'round, neither. A gal have to be of age and ask her pa and
+ma and Marse and Missy, and if dey 'gree, dey go ahead and git marry.
+Marse have de marry book to put de name down.
+
+"One time Marse take me 'long to help tote some chillen. He done write
+up to Virginny for to buy fresh hands. Dey a old man dat hobble 'long de
+road and de chillen start to throw rocks and de old man turn 'round to
+one prissy one and say, 'Go on, young'un, you'll be where dogs can't
+bark at you tomorrow. Nex' mornin' us cookin' in de kitchen and all a
+sudden dat li'l boy jes' crumple up dead on de floor. Law, we's scairt.
+Nobody ever bother dat old man no more, for he sho' lay de evil finger
+on you.
+
+"Marse's brother, Conrad, what was a widdyman, come to live on de
+plantation and he had a li'l gal 'bout eight year old. One day she in de
+plum orchard playin' with a rattlesnake and Marse Conrad have de fit. De
+li'l gal won't let nobody hurt dat snake and she play with him. He won't
+bite her. She keeps him 'bout three year, and she'd rub and grease him.
+One day he got sick and dey give him some brandy, but he die and old Doc
+pickle him in de bottle of brandy. Dat gal git so full of grief dey take
+her to de infirm'ry in New Orleans and den one day she up and die.
+
+"Dat snake ain't all what Doc Fawcett pickle. A slave woman give birth
+to a baby gal what have two faces with a strip of hair runnin' 'tween.
+Old Doc Fawcett pickle it in de jar of brandy. Old doc start to court
+Miss Cornelia when Marse die, but she don't have none of him and he
+done went straight 'way and kill hisself.
+
+"One day a li'l man come ridin' by on a li'l dun hoss so fast you
+couldn't see dat hoss tail a-switchin'. He whoopin' and hollerin'. Us
+niggers 'gun whoop and holler, too. Den first thing you know de Yanks
+and de Democrats 'gun to fight right dere. Dey a high old mountain front
+Marse's house and de Yanks 'gun pepper cannon ball down from de top dat
+hill. De war met right dere and dem Yanks and Democrats fit for
+twenty-four hours straight runnin'.
+
+"When de bullets starts rainin' down, Marse call us and slip us way back
+into de woods, where it so black and deep. Next day, when de fight over,
+Marse come out with great big wagons piles full of mess-poke for us to
+eat. Dat what us call hog meat. Us sho' glad to 'scape from de Yankees.
+
+"When us driv back to de plantation, sech a sight I never seen. Law, de
+things I can tell. Dem Yanks have kilt men and women. I seed babies pick
+up from de road with dere brains bust right out. One old man am drawin'
+water and a cannon ball shoots him right in de well. Dey draws him up
+with de fishin' line. Dey's a old sugar boat out on de bayou with blood
+and sugar runnin' long side de busted barrels. 'Lasses run in de bayou
+and blood run in de ditches. Marse have de great big orchard on de road
+and it wipe clean as de whistle. Bullets wipe up everythin' and bust dat
+sugar cane all to pieces. De house sot far back and 'scape de bullets,
+but, law, de time dey have!
+
+"Dey's awful, awful times after dat. A old cotton dress cost five
+dollars and a pound of coffee cost five dollars and a pint cup flour
+cost six bits. De Yanks 'round all de time and one day they comes right
+in de house where Miss Cornelia eatin' her dinner. Dey march 'round de
+table, jes' scoopin' up meat and 'taters and grabbin' cornpone right and
+left. Miss Cornelia don't say a word, jes' smile sweet as honey-cake. I
+reckon dem sojers might a took de silver and sech only she charm 'em by
+bein' so quiet and ladylike. First thing you know dem sojers curtsy to
+Missy and take dereself right out de door and don't come back.
+
+"Den it seem like Marse have all de trouble in de world. He boy, Ned,
+die in de war and William, what name for he pa, drink bad all de time.
+And after de war dem Ku Kluxers what wear de false faces try to tinker
+with Marse's niggers. One day Uncle Dave start to town and a Kluxer ask
+him where am he pass. Dat Kluxer clout him but Uncle Dave outrun him in
+de cane. Marse grab de hoss and go 'rest dat man and Marse a jedge and
+he make dat man pay de fine for hittin' Uncle Dave. After dey hears of
+dat, dem old poky faces sho' scairt of old Marse and dey git out from
+Opelousas and stays out. When me and my husband, John, come to Texas de
+folks say dat Louisiana masters de meanes' in de world and I say right
+back at 'em dat dey is good and mean in every spot of de earth. What
+more, de Louisiana masters free dere niggers a year befo' any Texas
+nigger git free.
+
+"When 'mancipation come, Marse git on de big block and say, 'You all is
+as free as I is, standin' right here. Does you want to stay with me, you
+can, and I'll pay you for de work.' All de niggers cheer and say dey
+want to stay, but Marse die not long after and all us niggers scatter.
+
+"I sho' 'lect dat day old Marse die. He won't die till ma gits there. He
+keep sayin', "Where's Charity, tell Charity to come." Dey fotch ma from
+de cane patch and she hold Marse's hand till he die. Us niggers went to
+de graveyard and us sho' cry over old Marse.
+
+"Marse's brother, Goldham, carries all he hands back to de free country
+to turn 'em loose. He say de free country am de ones what's yellin'
+'bout slave times, so dey could jes' take care of de niggers. Marse
+Goldham so big dat when he stand in de door you couldn't git by him,
+'thout he stand sideways.
+
+"Law, times ain't like dey was in slave days. All my ten chillen is dead
+and my old man gone, and now I reckon my time 'bout 'rive. All I got to
+do now am pray de Lawd to keep me straight, den when de great day come,
+I can march de road to glory.
+
+
+
+
+420125
+
+
+[Illustration: Charlotte Beverley]
+
+
+     CHARLOTTE BEVERLY was born a slave to Captain Pankey's wife, in
+     Montgomery County, Texas. She has lived most of her life within a
+     radius of 60 miles from Houston, and now lives with one of her
+     children in a little house on the highway between Cleveland and
+     Shepherd, Texas. She does not know her age, but appears to be about
+     ninety.
+
+
+"I's born in Montgomery County and I's the mudder of eleven chillen,
+four gals and seven boys. My grandma come from Alabama and my daddy was
+Strawder Green and he belong to Col. Hughes. My maw named Phyllis and
+she belong to Capt. Pankey.
+
+"There was 'bout forty niggers, big and little, on the plantation. Lawd,
+they was good to us. Us didn' know nothin' 'bout bad times and cutting
+and whipping and slashing. I had to work in the house and I 'member one
+thing I has to do was scrub Mistus' gol' snuffbox twict a week. She kep'
+sweet, Scotch snuff and sometimes I takes a pinch out.
+
+"We used to go to the white folks church and if us couldn' git in we'd
+stand round by the door and sing. Mistus wouldn' 'low us dance on the
+place but they give us pass to go to dance on nex' plantation, where my
+daddy live.
+
+"Every year they have big Christmas dinner and ham and turkey
+and allus feed us good. Us have Christmas party and sing songs. That was
+sweet music.
+
+"Marster have a lovely house, all ceiled and plastered. It was a log
+house but it was make all beautiful inside with mirrors and on the board
+was lots of silver and china and silver spoons with the gol' linin's and
+part of my job was to keep 'em sparklin'.
+
+"Folks in them times cooks in the fireplace and my auntie, she cook. She
+make 'simmon bread and 'tater pone and the like. She mash up 'simmons
+with butter and pour sweet milk and flour in it. That make good 'simmon
+bread. We has skillets what was flat and deep and set on three legs.
+
+"The slaves lived in little log houses and sleep on wood beds. The beds
+was make three-legged. They make augur hole in side of the house and put
+in pieces of wood to make the bed frame, and they put straw and cotton
+mattress on them bed.
+
+"Old marster used to let he slaves have a extry cotton patch to
+theyselves and they work it by the moonlight. They could sell that
+cotton and have the money for theyselves.
+
+"My white mistus was a Christian and she'd own her God anywhere. She
+used to shout, jus' sit and clap her hands and say, 'Hallalujah.' Once I
+seed her shout in church and I thinks something ail her and I run down
+the aisle and goes to fannin' her.
+
+"One of the slaves was a sort-a preacher and sometimes marster 'lowed
+him to preach to the niggers, but he have to preach with a tub over his
+head, 'cause he git so happy he talk too loud. Somebody from the big
+house liable to come down and make him quit 'cause he makin' 'sturbance.
+
+"I brings water from the well and they have what they call piggins, and
+they was little tubs with two handles. Mistus wouldn' 'low me to do any
+heavy work.
+
+"I see sojers and knits socks for 'em by moonshine. Me and my husban'
+was married by a Yankee sojer. I was dress in white Tarleyton weddin'
+dress and I didn' wear no hoop skirt. I had a pretty wreath of little
+white flowers, little bitty, little dainty ones, the pretties' little
+things. When I marry, my sister marry too and our husban's was brudders.
+My husban' dress in suit of white linen. He sho' look handsome. He give
+me a gol' ring and a cup and saucer for weddin' gif'. We git married in
+Huntsville and us didn' go no weddin' journey trip. We was so poor we
+couldn' go round the house! I's 'bout twenty some year when I marries,
+but I don' know jus' how old. We has a big dance that night and the
+white folks come, 'cause they likes to see the niggers dance.
+
+"The white folks had interes' in they cullud people where I live.
+Sometimes they's as many as fifty cradle with little nigger babies in
+'em and the mistus, she look after them and take care of them, too. She
+turn them and dry them herself. She had a little gal git water and help.
+She never had no chillen of her own. I'd blow the horn for the mudders
+of the little babies to come in from the fields and nurse 'em, in
+mornin' and afternoon. Mistus feed them what was old enough to eat
+victuals. Sometimes, they mammies take them to the field and fix pallet
+on ground for them to lay on.
+
+"The las' word my old Mistus Pankey say when she die was, 'You take care
+of Charlette.'
+
+
+
+
+420249
+
+
+[Illustration: Francis Black]
+
+
+     FRANCIS BLACK was born at Grand Bluff, Mississippi, about 1850, on
+     the Jim Carlton plantation. When five years old, she was stolen and
+     taken to the slave market in New Orleans. Failing to sell her
+     there, the slave traders took her to Jefferson, Texas, and sold her
+     to Bill Tumlin. Francis stayed with him five years after she was
+     freed, then married and moved to Cass County, Texas. She became
+     blind a year ago, and now lives at the Bagland Old Folks Home, 313
+     Elm St., Texarkana, Texas.
+
+
+"My name am Francis Black, and I don't know jes' how old I is, but
+'members lots 'bout them slave days. I was a big gal, washin' and
+ironin', when they sot the darkies free. From that, I cal'late I'm in my
+eighties.
+
+"I was born in Grand Bluff, in Mississippi, on Old Man Carlton's
+plantation, and I was stole from my folks when I was a li'l gal and
+never seed them no more. Us kids played in the big road there in
+Mississippi, and one day me and 'nother gal is playin' up and down the
+road and three white men come 'long in a wagon. They grabs us up and
+puts us in the wagon and covers us with quilts. I hollers and yells and
+one the men say, 'Shet up, you nigger, or I'll kill you.' I told him,
+'Kill me if you wants to--you stole me from my folks.'
+
+"Them men took us to New Orleans to the big slave market. I had long
+hair and they cut it off like a boy and tried to sell me, but I told
+them men what looks at me, the men cut my hair off and stole me. The man
+what cut my hair off cursed me and said if I didn't hush he'd kill me,
+but he couldn't sell us at New Orleans and took us to Jefferson.
+
+"I never knowed what they done with the other gal, but they sold me to
+Marse Bill Tumlin, what run a big livery stable in Jefferson, and I
+'longed to him till surrender. I lived in the house with them, 'cause
+they had a boy and gal and I did for them. They bought me clothes and
+took good care of me but I never seed no money till surrender. I et what
+they et, after they got through. Missy say she didn't 'lieve in feedin'
+the darkies scraps, like some folks.
+
+"I played with them two chillen all day, then sot the table. I was so
+small I'd git in a chair to reach the dishes out of the safe. I had to
+pull a long flybrush over the table whilst the white folks et.
+
+"Marse Tumlin had a farm 'bout four mile from town, and a overseer, and
+I seed him buckle the niggers crost a log and whip them. Marse lived in
+Jefferson, heself, and when he'd go to the farm he allus took his boy
+with him. We'd be playin' in the barn and Marse call from the house,
+'Come on, Jimmie, we're gwine to the farm.' Jimmie allus say to me,
+'Come on, nigger, let's ride round the farm.' I'd say, 'I ain't no
+nigger.' He'd say, 'Yes, you is, my pa paid $200 for you. He bought you
+for to play with me.'
+
+"Jefferson was a good town till it burned up. I 'members the big fire
+what looked like the whole town gwineter burn up. Marse Bill lost his
+livery stable in the fire.
+
+"The Yankee soldiers, all dressed in blue, come to run the town after
+the war. Marse Tumlin done told me I'm free, but I stays on till I'm
+most growed. Then I works round town and marries Dave Black, and we
+moved to Cass County. I raises six chillun but my old man done git so
+triflin' and mean I quit him and worked for myself. I come to Texarkana
+to work, and allus could earn my own livin' till 'bout a year ago I lost
+my seein', and Albert Ragland done took me in his home for the old
+folks. They gives me a $10 a month pension now. They is good to me here
+and feeds us good.
+
+
+
+
+420142
+
+
+     OLIVIER BLANCHARD, 95 years old, was a slave of Clairville La San,
+     who owned a large plantation in Martinville Parish, Louisiana. His
+     father was a Frenchman and Olivier speaks rather haltingly, as
+     though it is difficult for him to express his thoughts in English,
+     for he has talked a species of French all his life. He lives in
+     Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"I was plowing and hoeing before the freedom and I talk more of the
+French 'cause I comes from St. Martinville Parish. I was born there in
+Louisiana and my mama was Angeline Jean Pierre and she was slave born.
+My papa was Olivier Blanchard and he white man carpenter on old
+plantation. We belong to Clairville La San and all live on
+that place. My papa just plain carpenter but could draw patterns for
+houses. I don't know where he larn that work.
+
+"I was count freeborn and still have one white half sister alive. When
+freedom come my mama and papa split up and mama get marry.
+
+"I pick cotton and mama cook. She make koosh-koosh and cyayah--that last
+plain clabber. Mama cook lots of gaspergou and carp and the poisson ami
+fish, with the long snout--what they call gar now. I think it eel fish
+they strip the skin off and wrap round the hair and make it curly.
+
+"The Bayou Teche, it run close by and the women do all the clothes with
+a big paddle with holes in it to clean them in the bayou. They paddle
+them clean on the rocks and then wash them in the water.
+
+"One time one big bayou 'gator come up and bite a woman's arm off. She
+my sister in law. But they keep on washing the clothes in the bayou just
+the same.
+
+"We have plenty to eat and peaches and muscadines and pecans, 'cause
+there right smart woods and swamp there. We play in the woods and most
+time in the bayou on boats with planks what would float. We had the good
+time and had a little pet coon. You know, the coon like sweet things and
+he steal our syrup and when we chase him with the switch he hide under
+the bed.
+
+"My old missus was good Catholic and she have us christened and make the
+first communion. That not registered, 'cause it before the freedom, but
+it were in old St. Martin's church, same old church what stand now.
+There was a statue of Pere Jean, the old priest, in front the church and
+one of St. Martin, too.
+
+"Plenty men from St. Martinville go to the war and Archie DeBlieu, he go
+to Virginia and fight. The first one to pass our place was John Well
+Banks and he was a Yankee going up the Red River.
+
+"The yellow fever came durin' that war and kill lots. All the big
+plantation have the graveyard for the cullud people. That fever so bad
+they get the coffin ready before they dead and they so scared that some
+weren't dead but they think they are and bury them. There was a white
+girl call Colene Sonnier what was to marry Sunday and she take sick
+Friday before. She say not to bury her in the ground but they put her
+there while they got the tomb ready. When they open the ground grave to
+put her in the tomb they find she buried alive and she eat all her own
+shoulder and hand away. Her sweetheart, Gart Berrild, he see that
+corpse, and he go home and get took with yellow fever and die.
+
+"They was the old lady what die. She was a terrible soul. One time after
+she die I go to get water out of her rain barrel and I had a lamp in one
+hand. That old lady's ghost blowed out the lamp and slapped the pitcher
+out my hand. After she first die her husband put black dress on her and
+tie up the jaw with a rag and my girl look in the room and there that
+old lady, Liza Lee, sittin' by the fire. My girl tell her mama and after
+three day she go back, and Liza Lee buried but my wife see her sittin'
+by the fire. Then she sorry she whip the chile for sayin' she saw Liza
+Lee. That old lady, Liza Lee, was a tart and she stay a tart for a long
+time.
+
+"I marry 72 year ago in the Catholic Church in St. Martinville. My wife
+call Adeline Chretien and she dead 37 year. We have seven children but
+four live now. Frank my only boy live now, in Iowa, in Louisiana, and my
+two girls live, Enziede De Querive and Rose Baptiste.
+
+
+
+
+420199
+
+
+     JULIA BLANKS was born of a slave mother and a three-quarter Indian
+     father, in San Antonio, in the second year of the Civil War. Her
+     mother, part French and part Negro, was owned by Mrs. John G.
+     Wilcox, formerly a Miss Donaldson, who had lived at the White
+     House, and who gave Julia to her daughter. After the slaves were
+     freed, Julia continued to live with her mother in San Antonio
+     until, at fifteen, she married Henry Hall. Five years later her
+     second marriage took place, at Leon Springs, Texas, where she lived
+     until moving to the Adams ranch, on the Frio River. Here she raised
+     her family. After leaving the Adams ranch, Julia and Henry bought
+     two sections of state land, but after four years they let it go
+     back because of Henry's ill health, and moved to Uvalde.
+
+
+"I was born in San Antonio, in 1862. My mother's name was Rachael
+Miller. I don't know if she was born in Tennessee or Mississippi. I
+heard her talk of both places. I don't know nothing about my father,
+because he run off when I was about three months old. He was
+three-quarter Cherokee Indian. They were lots of Indians then, and my
+husband's people come from Savannah, Georgia, and he said they was lots
+of Indians there. I had two sisters and one brother and the sisters are
+dead but my brother lives somewhere in Arizona. My mother's master's
+name was John C. Wilcox.
+
+"When we was small chillen, they hired my sisters out, but not me. My
+grandfather bought my grandmother's time and they run a laundry house.
+They hired my mother out, too.
+
+"You see, my grandmother was free born, but they stole her and sold her
+to Miss Donaldson. She was half French. She looked jes' like a French
+woman. She wasn't a slave, but she and her brother were stolen and sold.
+She said the stage coach used to pass her aunt's house, and one day she
+and her brother went down to town to buy some buns, and when they were
+comin' back, the stage stopped and asked 'em to ride. She wanted to
+ride, but her brother didn't. But they kep' coaxin' 'em till they got
+'em in. They set her down between the two women that was in there and
+set her brother between two men, and when they got close to the house,
+they threw cloaks over their heads and told the driver to drive as fast
+as he could, and he sure drove. They taken 'em to Washin'ton, to the
+White House, and made her a present to Mary Wilcox (Miss Donaldson) and
+her brother to somebody else. Then this woman married John C. Wilcox and
+they come to Texas.
+
+"She saw a cousin of hers when they got to Washin'ton, and she knew,
+after that, he had somethin' to do with her and her brother bein'
+stolen. One day she found a piece of yellow money and took it to her
+cousin and he told her it wasn't no good and gave her a dime to go get
+her some candy. After that, she saw gold money and knew what it was.
+
+"She said she had a good time, though, when she was growing up. They
+were pretty good to her, but after they came to San Antonio, Mrs. Wilcox
+began bein' mean. She kep' my mother hired out all the time and gave me
+to her daughter and my sister to her son. My mother was kep' hired out
+all the time, cooking; and after freedom, she just took to washin' and
+ironin'. My grandfather bought his time and my grandmother's time out.
+They didn't stay with her.
+
+"I've heard my mother talk about coffee. They roasted beans and made
+coffee. She says, out on the plantation, they would take bran and put it
+in a tub and have 'em stir it up with water in it and let all the white
+go to the bottom and dip it off and strain it and make starch. I have
+made starch out of flour over and often, myself. I had four or five
+little girls; and I had to keep 'em like pins. In them days they wore
+little calico dresses, wide and full and standin' out, and a bonnet to
+match every dress.
+
+"I used to hear my grandmother tell about the good times they used to
+have. They would go from one plantation to another and have quiltin's
+and corn huskin's. And they would dance. They didn't have dances then
+like they do now. The white people would give them things to eat. They
+would have to hoof it five or six miles and didn't mind it.
+
+"They had what they called _patros_, and if you didn't have a pass they
+would whip you and put you in jail. Old Man Burns was hired at the
+courthouse, and if the marsters had slaves that they didn't want to
+whip, they would send them to the courthouse to be whipped. Some of the
+marsters was good and some wasn't. There was a woman, oh, she was the
+meanest thing! I don't know if she had a husband--I never did hear
+anything about him. When she would get mad at one of her slave women,
+she would make the men tie her down, and she had what they called
+cat-o'-nine-tails, and after she got the blood to come, she would dip it
+in salt and pepper and whip her again. Oh, she was mean! My mother's
+marster was good; he wouldn't whip any of his slaves. But his wife
+wasn't good. If she got mad at the women, when he would come home she
+would say: 'John, I want you to whip Liza.' Or Martha. And he would say,
+'Them are your slaves. You whip them.' He was good and she was mean.
+
+"When my aunt would go to clean house, she (Mrs. Wilcox) would turn all
+the pictures in the house but one, the meanest looking one--you know how
+it always looks like a picture is watching you everywhere you go--and
+she would tell her if she touched a thing or left a bit of dirt or if
+she didn't do it good, this picture would tell. And she believed it.
+
+"My grandmother told a tale one time. You know in slave time they had an
+old woman to cook for the chillen. One day they were going to have
+company. This woman that was the boss of the place where the chillen was
+kept told the old cullud woman to take a piece of bacon and grease the
+mouths of all the chillen. Then she told a boy to bring them up to these
+people, and the woman said: 'Oh, you must feed these chillen good, just
+look at their mouths!' And the woman said, 'Oh, that's the way they
+eat.' They didn't get meat often. That was just to make them believe
+they had lots to eat.
+
+"No. They were cut off from education. The way my stepfather got his
+learning was a cullud blacksmith would teach school at night, and us
+chillen taught our mother. She didn't know how to spell or read or
+nothin'. She didn't know B from bull's foot. Some of them were allowed
+to have church and some didn't. Mighty few read the Bible 'cause they
+couldn't read. As my mother used to say, they were raised up as green
+as cucumbers. That old blacksmith was the onlyist man that knew how to
+read and write in slavery time that I knew of. My grandmother or none of
+them knew how to read; they could count, but that was all. That's what
+makes me mad. I tell my grandchillen they ought to learn all they can
+'cause the old people never had a chance. My husband never did have any
+schooling, but he sure could figger. Now, if you want me to get tangled
+up, just give me a pencil and paper and I don't know nothing." She
+tapped her skull. "I figger in my head! The chillen, today, ought to
+appreciate an education.
+
+"Oh, yes, they were good to the slaves when they were sick. They would
+have the doctor come out and wait on them. Most plantations had what
+they called an old granny cullud woman that treated the chillen with
+herbs and such things.
+
+"Games? I don't know. We used to play rap jacket. We would get switches
+and whip one another. You know, after you was hit several times it
+didn't hurt much. I've played a many time. In slave time the men used to
+go huntin' at night, and hunt 'possums and 'coons. They would have a dog
+or two along. They used to go six or seven miles afoot to corn huskin's
+and quiltin's. And those off the other plantations would come over and
+join in the work. And they would nearly always have a good dinner.
+Sometimes some of the owners would give 'em a hog or somethin' nice to
+eat, but some of 'em didn't.
+
+"No'm, I don't know if they run off to the North, but some of them
+runned off and stayed in the swamps, and they was mean. They called them
+runaways. If they saw you, they would tell you to bring them something
+to eat. And if you didn't do it, if they ever got you they sure would
+fix you.
+
+"I don't know when my mother was set free. My husband's marster's name
+was King. He was from Savannah, Georgia, but at the time was living
+close to Boerne. My husband's father was killed in the war. When my
+husband was about ten years old, his marster hadn't told them they was
+free. You know some of them didn't tell the slaves they was free until
+they had to. After freedom was declared, lots of people didn't tell the
+slaves they were free. One morning, my husband said, he happended to
+look out and he saw a big bunch of men coming down the road, and he
+thought he never saw such pretty men in his life on them horses. They
+had so many brass buttons on their clothes it looked like gold. So he
+run and told his mama, and she looked and saw it was soldiers, and some
+of 'em told the boss, and he looked and saw them soldiers comin' in the
+big gate and he called 'em in quick, and told them they were free. So
+when the soldiers come, they asked him if he had told his slaves they
+were free, and he said yes. They asked the Negroes if they lived there,
+and they said yes. One said, 'He just told us we was free.' The soldiers
+asked him why he had just told them, and he said they wasn't all there
+and he was waiting for them all to be there.
+
+"My husband said he thought them was the prettiest bunch of men he ever
+saw, and the prettiest horses. Of course, he hadn't never saw any
+soldiers before. I know it looked pretty to me when I used to see the
+soldiers at the barracks and hear the band playin' and see them drillin'
+and ever'thing. You see, we lived on a little cross-street right back of
+St. Mary's Church in San Antonio, I don't know how that place is now.
+Where the post office is now, there used to be a blacksmith shop and my
+father worked there. I went back to San Antonio about fifteen years ago
+and jes' took it afoot and looked at the changes.
+
+"I was fifteen years old the first time I married. It was almost a
+run-a-way marriage. I was married in San Antonio. My first husband's
+name was Henry Hall. My first wedding dress was as wide as a wagon
+sheet. It was white lawn, full of tucks, and had a big ruffle at the
+bottom. I had a wreath and a veil, too. The veil had lace all around it.
+We danced and had a supper. We danced all the dances they danced then;
+the waltz, square, quadrille, polka, and the gallopade--and that's what
+it was, all right; you shore galloped. You'd start from one end of the
+hall and run clear to the other end. In those days, the women with all
+them long trains--the man would hold it over his arm. No, Lord!
+Honeymoons wasn't thought of then. No'm, I never worked out a day in my
+life." Jokingly, "I guess they thought I was too good looking. I was
+about twenty years old when I married the second time. I was married in
+Leon Springs the second time.
+
+"Before we come out to this country from Leon Springs, they was wild
+grapes, dewberries, plums and agaritas, black haws, red haws. M-m-m!
+Them dewberries, I dearly love 'em! I never did see wild cherries out
+here. I didn't like the cherries much, but they make fine wine. We used
+to gather mustang grapes and make a barrel of wine.
+
+"After I married the second time, we lived on the Adams ranch on the
+Frio and stayed on that ranch fifteen years. We raised all our chillen
+right on that ranch. I am taken for a Mexkin very often. I jes' talk
+Mexkin back to 'em. I learned to talk it on the ranch. As long as I have
+lived at this place, I have never had a cross word about the chillen.
+All my neighbors here is Mexkins. They used to laugh at me when I tried
+to talk to the hands on the ranch, but I learned to talk like 'em.
+
+"We used to have big round-ups out on the Adams ranch. They had fences
+then. The neighbors would all come over and get out and gather the
+cattle and bring 'em in. Up at Leon Springs at that time they didn't
+have any fences, and they would have big round-ups there. But after we
+come out here, it was different. He would notify his neighbors they were
+goin' to gather cattle on a certain day. The chuck wagon was right there
+at the ranch, that is, _I_ was the chuck wagon. But if they were goin' to
+take the cattle off, they would have a chuck wagon. They would round up
+a pasture at a time and come in to the ranch for their meals. Now on the
+Wallace ranch, they would always take a chuck wagon. When they were
+gettin' ready to start brandin' at the ranch, my husband always kep' his
+brandin' irons all in the house, hangin' up right where he could get his
+hands on 'em. Whenever they would go off to other ranches to gather
+cattle, you would see ever' man with his beddin' tied up behind him on
+his horse. He'd have jes' a small roll. They would always have a slicker
+if nothin' else. That slicker answered for ever'thing sometimes. My
+husband slep' many a night with his saddle under his head.
+
+"He used to carry mail from San Antonio to Dog Town, horseback. That was
+the town they used to call Lodi (Lodo), but I don't know how to spell
+it, and don't know what it means. It was a pretty tough town. The jail
+house was made out of 'dobe and pickets. They had a big picket fence all
+around it. They had a ferry that went right across the San Antonio River
+from Floresville to Dog Town. I know he told me he come to a place and
+they had a big sign that said, 'Nigga, don't let the sun go down on you
+here.' They was awful bad down in there. He would leave Dog Town in the
+evenin' and he would get to a certain place up toward San Antonio to
+camp, and once he stopped before he got to the place he always camped
+at. He said he didn't know what made 'im stop there that time, but he
+stopped and took the saddle off his horse and let 'im graze while he lay
+down. After a while, he saw two cigarette fires in the dark right up the
+road a little piece, and he heard a Mexkin say, 'I don't see why he's so
+late tonight. He always gets here before night and camps right there.'
+He knew they was waylayin' 'im, so he picked his saddle up right easy
+and carried it fu'ther back down the road in the brush and then come got
+his horse and took him out there and saddled 'im up and went away 'round
+them Mexkins. He went on in to San Antonio and didn't go back any more.
+A white man took the mail to carry then and the first trip he made, he
+never come back. He went down with the mail and they found the mail
+scattered somewhere on the road, but they never found the man, or the
+horse, either.
+
+"On the Adams ranch, in the early days, we used to have to pack water up
+the bank. You might not believe it, but one of these sixty-pound lard
+cans full of water, I've a-carried it on my head many a time. We had
+steps cut into the bank, and it was a good ways down to the water, and
+I'd pack that can up to the first level and go back and get a couple a
+buckets of water, and carry a bucket in each hand and the can on my head
+up the next little slantin' hill before I got to level ground. I carried
+water that way till my chillen got big enough to carry water, then they
+took it up. When I was carryin' water in them big cans my head would
+sound like new leather--you know how it squeaks, and that was the way it
+sounded in my head. But, it never did hurt me. You see, the Mexkins
+carry loads on their heads, but they fix a rag around their heads some
+way to help balance it. But I never did. I jes' set it up on my head and
+carried it that way. Oh, we used to carry water! My goodness! My mother
+said it was the Indian in me--the way I could carry water.
+
+"When we were first married and moved to the Adams ranch, we used to
+come here to Uvalde to dances. They had square dances then. They hadn't
+commenced all these frolicky dances they have now. They would have a
+supper, but they had it to sell. Every fellow would have to treat his
+girl he danced with.
+
+"I can remember when my grandfather lived in a house with a dirt floor,
+and they had a fireplace. And I can remember just as well how he used to
+bake hoecakes for us kids. He would rake back the coals and ashes real
+smooth and put a wet paper down on that and then lay his hoecake down on
+the paper and put another paper on top of that and the ashes on top. I
+used to think that was the best bread I ever ate. I tried it a few
+times, but I made such a mess I didn't try it any more. One thing I have
+seen 'em make, especially on the ranch. You take and clean a stick and
+you put on a piece of meat and piece of fat till you take and use up the
+heart and liver and sweetbread and other meat and put it on the stick
+and wrap it around with leaf fat and then put the milk gut, or marrow
+gut, around the whole thing. They call that _macho_ (mule), and I tell
+you, it's good. They make it out of a goat and sheep, mostly.
+
+"Another thing, we used to have big round-ups, and I have cooked great
+pans of steak and mountain orshters. Generally, at the brandin' and
+markin', I cooked up many a big pan of mountain orshters. I wish I had a
+nickel for ever' one I've cooked, and ate too! People from up North have
+come down there, and, when they were brandin' and cuttin' calves there,
+they sure did eat and enjoy that dinner.
+
+"The men used to go up to the lake, fishin', and catch big trout, or
+bass, they call 'em now; and we'd take big buckets of butter--we didn't
+take a saucer of butter or a pound; we taken butter up there in buckets,
+for we sure had plenty of it--and we'd take lard too, and cook our fish
+up there, and had corn bread or hoe cakes and plenty of butter for
+ever'thing, and it sure was good. I tell you--like my husband used to
+say--we was livin' ten days in the week, then.
+
+"When we killed hogs, the meat from last winter was hung outside and
+then new meat, salted down and then smoked, put in there, and we would
+cook the old bacon for the dogs. We always kep' some good dogs there,
+and anybody'll tell you they was always fat. We had lots of wild turkeys
+and I raised turkeys, too, till I got sick of cookin' turkeys. Don't
+talk about deer! You know, it wasn't then like it is now. You could go
+kill venison any time you wanted to. But I don't blame 'em for passin'
+that law, for people used to go kill 'em and jes' take out the hams and
+tenderloin and leave the other layin' there. I have saved many a sack of
+dried meat to keep it from spoilin'.
+
+"We would raise watermelons, too. We had a big field three mile from the
+house and a ninety-acre field right in the house. We used to go get
+loads of melons for the hogs and they got to where they didn't eat
+anything but the heart.
+
+"I used to leave my babies at the house with the older girl and go out
+horseback with my husband. My oldest girl used to take the place of a
+cowboy, and put her hair up in her hat. And ride! My goodness, she loved
+to ride! They thought she was a boy. She wore pants and leggin's. And
+maybe you think she couldn't ride!
+
+"After we left that ranch, we took up some state land. I couldn't tell
+you how big that place was. We had 640 in one place and 640 in another
+place; it was a good big place. After my husband got sick, we had to let
+it go back. We couldn't pay it out. We only lived on it about four
+years.
+
+"My husband has been dead about nineteen years. I had a pen full and a
+half of chillen. I have four livin' chillen, two girls and two boys. I
+have a girl, Carrie, in California, workin' in the fruit all the time;
+one boy, George, in Arizona, workin' in the mines; and a girl in
+Arizona, Lavinia, washes and irons and cooks and ever'thing else she can
+get at. And I have one boy here. I have ten grandchillen and I've got
+five great grandchillen.
+
+"I belong to the Methodist Church. I joined about twenty-five years ago.
+My husband joined with me. But here, of late years, when I go to church,
+it makes me mad to see how the people do the preacher up there trying to
+do all the good he can do and them settin' back there laughin' and
+talkin'. I was baptized. There was about five or six of us baptized in
+the Leona down here.
+
+"People tell that I've got plenty and don't need help. Even the Mexkins
+here and ever'body say I've got money. Jes' because we had that farm
+down there they think I come out with money. But what in the world would
+I want with money if I didn't use it? I can't take it with me when I die
+and I could be gettin' the use of it now while I need it. I could have
+what I want to eat, anyway. I'm gettin' a little pension, but it ain't
+near enough to keep us. I've got these two grandchillen here, and things
+is so high, too, so I don't have enough of anything without skimpin' all
+the time.
+
+
+
+
+420312
+
+
+     ELVIRA BOLES, 94, has outlived nine of her ten children. She lives
+     at 3109 Manzana St., El Paso, Texas, with her daughter, Minnie. She
+     was born a slave of the Levi Ray family near Lexington,
+     Mississippi, and was sold as a child to Elihn Boles, a neighboring
+     plantation owner. During the last year of the Civil War she was
+     brought to Texas, with other refugee slaves.
+
+
+"I jus' 'member my first marster and missus, 'cause she don' want me
+there. I'se a child of the marster. Dey didn' tell me how old I was when
+dey sold me to Boles. My missus sold me to Boles. Dey tuk us to where
+dere was a heap of white folks down by the court house and we'd be there
+in lots and den de whites 'ud bid for us. I don' know how old I was, but
+I washed dishes and den dey put me to work in de fields. We don' git a
+nickel in slavery.
+
+"Marster Boles didn' have many slaves on de farm, but lots in brickyard.
+I toted brick back and put 'em down where dey had to be. Six bricks each
+load all day. That's de reason I ain't no 'count, I'se worked to death.
+I fired de furnace for three years. Stan'in' front wid hot fire on my
+face. Hard work, but God was wid me. We'd work 'till dark, quit awhile
+after sundown. Marster was good to slaves, didn' believe in jus' lashin'
+'em. He'd not be brutal but he'd kill 'em dead right on the spot.
+Overseers 'ud git after 'em and whop 'em down.
+
+"I'se seventeen, maybe, when I married to slave of Boles. Married on
+Saturday night. Dey give me a dress and dey had things to eat, let me
+have something like what you call a party. We just had common clothes
+on. And then I had to work every day. I'd leave my baby cryin' in de
+yard and he'd be cryin', but I couldn' stay. Done everything but split
+rails. I've cut timber and ploughed. Done everything a man could do. I
+couldn' notice de time, but I'd be glad to git back to my baby.
+
+"Log cabins had dirt floor, sometimes plankin' down. I worked late and
+made pretty quilts. Sometimes dey'd let us have a party. Saturday
+nights, de white people give us meat and stuff. Give us syrup and we'd
+make candy, out in de yard. We'd ask our frien's and dance all night.
+Den go to work next day. We'd clean off de yard and dance out dere.
+Christmas come, dey give us a big eggnog and give us cake. Our white
+folks did. White folks chillen had bought candy. We didn' git any, but
+dey let us play wid de white chillen. We'd play smut. Whoever beat wid
+de cards, he'd git to smut you. Take de smut from fireplace and rub on
+your face.
+
+"Doctor take care of us iffen we sick, so's git us well to git us to
+work.
+
+"Iffen dey had a pretty girl dey would take 'em, and I'se one of 'em,
+and my oldest child, he boy by Boles, almost white.
+
+"We had to steal away at night to have church on de ditch bank, and
+crawl home on de belly. Once overseers heered us prayin', give us one
+day each 100 lashes.
+
+"Den when de Yankees come through, dey 'ud be good to de slaves, to keep
+'em from tellin' on 'em. Freedom was give Jan. 1, 1865, but de slaves
+didn' know it 'till June 19. We'se refugees. Boles, our marster, sent us
+out and we come from Holmes County to Cherokee County in a wagon. We was
+a dodgin' in and out, runnin' from de Yankees. Marster said dey was
+runnin' us from de Yankees to keep us, but we was free and didn' know
+it. I lost my baby, its buried somewhere on dat road. Died at Red River
+and we left it. De white folks go out and buy food 'long de road and
+hide us. Dey say we'd never be free iffen dey could git to Texas wid us,
+but de people in Texas tol' us we's free. Den marster turn us loose in
+de world, without a penny. Oh, dey was awful times. We jus' worked from
+place to place after freedom.
+
+"When we started from Mississippi, dey tol' us de Yankees 'ud kill us
+iffen dey foun' us, and dey say, 'You ain't got no time to take nothin'
+to whar you goin'. Take your little bundle and leave all you has in your
+house.' So when we got to Texas I jus' had one dress, what I had on.
+Dat's de way all de cullud people was after freedom, never had nothin'
+but what had on de back. Some of dem had right smart in dere cabins, but
+they was skeered and dey lef' everything. Bed clothes and all you had
+was lef'. We didn' know any better den."
+
+
+
+
+420102
+
+
+[Illustration: Betty Bormer (Bonner)]
+
+
+     BETTY BORMER, 80, was born a slave to Col. M.T. Johnson, who farmed
+     at Johnson Station in Tarrant County. He owned Betty's parents,
+     five sisters and four brothers, in addition to about 75 other
+     slaves. After the family was freed, they moved with the other
+     slaves to a piece of land Col. Johnson allowed them the use of
+     until his death. Betty lives in a negro settlement at Stop Six, a
+     suburb of Fort Worth.
+
+
+"I'se bo'n April 4th, in 1857, at Johnson Station. It was named after my
+marster. He had a big farm, I'se don' know how many acres. He had seven
+chillen; three boys, Ben, Tom and Mart, and four girls, Elizabeth,
+Sally, Roddy and Veanna.
+
+"Marster Johnson was good to us cullud folks and he feeds us good. He
+kep' lots of hawgs, dat makes de meat. In de smokehouse am hung up meat
+enough for to feed de army, it looks like. We'uns have all de clothes we
+need and dey was made on de place. My mammy am de sewing woman and my
+pappy am de shoemaker. My work, for to nuss de small chillen of de
+marster.
+
+"On Sat'day we's let off work and lots de time some of us come to Fort
+Worth wid de marster and he gives us a nickel or a dime for to buy
+candy.
+
+"Dey whips de niggers sometimes, but 'twarn't hard. You know, de nigger
+gits de devilment in de head, like folks do, sometimes, and de marster
+have to larn 'em better. He done dat hisself and he have no overseer. No
+nigger tried run away, 'cause each family have a cabin wid bunks for to
+sleep on and we'uns all live in de quarters. Sich nigger as wants to
+larn read and write, de marster's girls and boys larns 'em. De girls
+larned my auntie how to play de piano.
+
+"Dere am lots of music on dat place; fiddle, banjo and de piano.
+Singin', we had lots of dat, songs like Ole Black Joe and 'ligious songs
+and sich. Often de marster have we'uns come in his house and clears de
+dinin' room for de dance. Dat am big time, on special occasion. Dey not
+calls it 'dance' dem days, dey calls it de 'ball.'
+
+"Sho', we'uns goes to church and de preacher's name, it was Jack Ditto.
+
+"Durin' de war, I notices de vittles am 'bout de same. De soldiers come
+dere and dey driv' off over de hill some of de cattle for to kill for to
+eat. Once dey took some hosses and I hears marster say dem was de
+Quantrell mens. Dey comes several times and de marster don' like it, but
+he cain't help it.
+
+"When freedom come marster tells all us to come to front of de house. He
+am standin' on de porch. Him 'splains 'bout freedom and says, 'You is
+now free and can go whar you pleases.' Den he tells us he have larned us
+not to steal and to be good and we'uns should 'member dat and if we'uns
+gets in trouble to come to him and he will help us. He sho' do dat, too,
+'cause de niggers goes to him lots of times and he always helps.
+
+"Marster says dat he needs help on de place and sich dat stays, he'd pay
+'em for de work. Lots of dem stayed, but some left. To dem dat leaves,
+marster gives a mule, or cow and sich for de start. To my folks, marster
+gives some land. He doesn't give us de deed, but de right to stay till
+he dies.
+
+"Sho', I seen de Klux after de war but I has no 'sperience wid 'em. My
+uncle, he gits whipped by 'em, what for I don' know 'zactly, but I think
+it was 'bout a hoss. Marster sho' rave 'bout dat, 'cause my uncle
+weren't to blame.
+
+"When de Klux come de no 'count nigger sho make de scatterment. Some
+climb up de chimney or jump out de winder and hide in de dugout and
+sich.
+
+"De marster dies 'bout seven years after freedom and everybody sorry
+den. I never seen such a fun'ral and lots of big men from Austin comes.
+He was de blessed man!
+
+"I married de second year after de T.P. railroad come to Fort Worth, to
+Sam Jones and he work on de Burk Burnett stock ranch. I'se divorseted
+from him after five years and den after 12 more years I marries Rubbin
+Felps. My las' husban's named Joe Borner, but I'se never married to the
+father of my only chile. His name am George Pace.
+
+"I allus gits long fair, 'cause after freedom I keeps on workin' doin'
+de nussin'. Now I'se gittin' 'leven dollars from de state for pension,
+and gits it every month so now I'se sho' of somethin' to eat and dat
+makes me happy.
+
+
+
+
+420289
+
+
+     HARRISON BOYD, 87, was born in Rusk County, Texas, a slave of Wash
+     Trammel. Boyd remained with his master for four years after
+     emancipation, then moved to Harrison County, where he now lives.
+     His memory is poor, but he managed to recall a few incidents.
+
+
+"I was fifteen years when they says we're free. That's the age my Old
+Missy done give me when the war stopped. She had all us niggers' ages in
+a book, and told me I was born near Henderson. My Old Marse was Wash
+Trammel and he brunged me and my mama and papa from Alabama. Mama was
+named Juliet and papa, Amos. Marse Trammel owned my grandpa and grandma,
+too, and they was named Jeanette and Josh.
+
+"The plantation was two made into one, and plenty big, and more'n a
+hundred slaves to work it. Marse lived in a hewed log house,
+weather-boarded out and in, and the quarters was good, log houses with
+bed railin's hewed out of logs. We raised everything we et, 'cept sugar,
+and Marse bought that in big hogsheads. We got our week's rations every
+Sunday, and when we went to eat, everybody's part was put out to them on
+a tin plate.
+
+"Marse Trammel give a big cornshucking every fall. He had two bottom
+fields in corn. First we'd gather peas and cushaws and pumpkins out the
+corn field, then get the corn and pile it front the cribs. They was two
+big cribs for the corn we kep' to use and five big cribs for sale corn.
+My uncle stayed round the sale corn cribs all spring, till ginnin' time,
+'cause folks come for miles after corn. Marse had five wheat cribs and
+one rye crib. We went ten mile to Tatum to git our meal and flour
+ground.
+
+"The patterrollers darsn't come 'bout our place or bother us niggers.
+Marse Wash allus say, 'I'll patterroller my own place.' Marse was good
+to us and only once a overseer beat a woman up a trifle, and Marse
+Trammel fired him that same day.
+
+"The sojers 'fiscated lots of corn from Marse and some more owners in
+Rusk County piled corn up in a big heap and made me go mind it till the
+rest the sojers got there. I was settin' top that corn pile, me and my
+big bulldog, and the General rode up. My dog growled and I made him
+hush. The General man say to me, 'Boy, you is 'scused now, go on home.'
+I got to a fence and looked back, and that General was hewin' him a hoss
+trough out a log. The sojers come in droves and set up they camp. I sot
+on a stump and watched them pass. They stayed three, four days till the
+corn was all fed up.
+
+"While they's camped there they'd cotch chickens. They had a fishin'
+pole and line and hook. They'd put a grain of corn on the hook and ride
+on they hoss and pitch the hook out 'mong the chickens. When a chicken
+swallowed the corn they'd jerk up the line with that chicken and ride
+off.
+
+"Marse had six hundred bales cotton in the Shreveport warehouse when war
+was over. He got word them Yankees done take it on a boat. He got his
+brother to take him to Shreveport and say, 'I'll follow that cotton to
+Hell and back.' He followed his cotton to Alabama and got it back, but
+he died and was buried there in Alabama 'fore Old Missy knowed it.
+
+"I stayed with her four years after surrender and then went to farmin'
+with my folks, for $10.00 a month. After a year or two I went to
+railroadin', helping cut the right-of-way for the T.& P. Railroad, from
+Marshall to Longview. They paid us $1.50 the day and three drinks of
+whiskey a day.
+
+"I marries four times but had only one child, but I never done nothin'
+'citin'. I lives by myself now, and gits $11.00 pension to eat on.
+
+
+
+
+420074
+
+
+[Illustration: Issabella Boyd]
+
+
+     ISSABELLA BOYD was born a slave of Gus Wood, in Richmond, Va., who
+     moved to Texas by boat before the Civil War. Isabella still lives
+     in Beaumont.
+
+
+"Lemme see, I come from Richmond, Virginy, to Texas. Massa Gus Wood was
+my owner and I kin recollect my white folks. I's born in dat country and
+dey brought me over to Richmond and my papa and mama, too. I was jus'
+'bout big 'nough to begin to 'member.
+
+"I come from Richmond yere on de boat, sometime de steamboat, sometime
+de big boat. When we left New Orleans dat evenin' we struck a big storm.
+Us git on dat boat in Richmond and went floatin' down to de big boat dat
+mornin'. Looks like it jus' fun for us, but every time we look back and
+think 'bout home it make us sad.
+
+"I had a dear, good mistus and my boss man, he furnish a house for he
+servants, a purty good house. And dey had a place for de Sunday School.
+Dem was good times. De mistus cook dinner and send it down for de old
+folks and chillen to have plenty.
+
+"My mistus kep' me right in de house, right by her, sewing. I could sew
+so fast I git my task over 'fore de others git started good.
+
+"Lots of times when de gals wants to go to de dance I he'p make de
+dresses. I 'member de pretties' one like yesterday. It have tucks from
+de waist to de hem and had diamonds cut all in de skirt.
+
+"Our boss man was 'ticular 'bout us being tended to and we was well took
+care of. He brung us to Beaumont when it was de plumb mud hole, and he
+settle down and try to build up and make it a go.
+
+"Massa Wood he allus takes de paper and one night they set up da long
+time and do dey readin'. Next mornin' de old cook woman, she say, 'Well,
+dey have de big war, and lots of dem wounded.' Befo' long us has to take
+care of some dem wounded soldiers, and dey has de camp place near us.
+Dey all camp 'round dere and I don't know which was de Yankees and de
+'federates.
+
+"When we all gits free, dey's de long time lettin' us know. Dey wants to
+git through with de corn and de cotton befo' dey let's de hands loose.
+Dey was people from other plantations say. 'Niggers, you's free and yere
+you workin'.' Us say, 'No, de gov'ment tell us when we's free.' We
+workin' one day when somebody from Massa Grissom place come by and tell
+us we's free, and us stop workin'. Dey tell us to go on workin' and de
+boss man he come up and he say he gwine knock us off de fence if we
+don't go to work. Mistus come out and say, 'Ain't you gwine make dem
+niggers go to work?' He send her back in de house and he call for de
+carriage and say he goin' to town for to see what de gov'ment goin' do.
+Nex' day he come back and say, 'Well, you's jus' as free as I is.'
+
+"He say to me I could stay and cook for dem, and he give me five dollar
+a month and a house to stay in and all I kin eat. I stays de month to do
+dere work.
+
+"After dat I wishes sometimes dat old times is back 'gain. I likes to be
+free, but I wasn't used to it and it was hard to know how to do. I
+'members de dances we has in de old times, when we makes de music with
+banjo and other things. Some de good massas 'lowed de niggers dance in
+de back yard and if we goes over dere without de pass de patterroles
+gits us maybe. One time my papa he runnin' from dem patterroles and he
+run slap into de young massa and he say, 'Oh, you ain't no nigger, I kin
+tell by de smell.'
+
+"Dat mind me of de ghost story dey used to tell 'bout de ghosties what
+live in de big bridge down in de hollow. De niggers day say dat ghostie
+make too much noise, with all he hollerin' and he rattlin' dem chain. So
+dat night one us niggers what dey call Charlie, he say he ain't 'fraid
+and he gwineter git him a ghostie, sho' 'nough. Us didn't believe him
+but purty soon us hears right smart wrastlin' with de chains and
+hollerin' down by de bridge and after 'while he come and say he git de
+best of dat ghostie, 'cause he ain't got strength like de man.
+
+"Me and my old man us have twelve chillens altogedder. My husban' he
+come from South Car'lina whar dey eats cottonseed. I used to joke him
+'bout it. I allus say Virginny de best, 'cause I come from dere.
+
+
+
+
+420039
+
+
+[Illustration: James Boyd]
+
+
+     JAMES BOYD was born in Phantom Valley, Indian Territory, in an
+     Indian hut. A man named Sanford Wooldrige stole him and brought him
+     to Texas, somewhere near Waco. James does not know his age, but
+     thinks he is a hundred years or more old. He now lives in Itasca,
+     Texas.
+
+
+"I's born in dat Phantom Valley, in de Indian Territory, what am now
+call Oklahoma. Us live in a Indian hut. My pappy Blue Bull Bird and
+mammy Nancy Will. She come to de Indian Territory with Santa Anna, from
+Mississippi, and pappy raise in de Territory. I don' 'member much 'bout
+my folks, 'cause I stole from dem when I a real li'l feller. I's
+a-fishin' in de Cherokee River and a man name Sanford Wooldrige come by.
+You see, de white folks and de Indians have de fight 'bout dat day. I's
+on de river and I heared yellin' and shootin' and folkses runnin' and I
+slips into some bresh right near. Den come de white man and he say,
+'Everybody kilt, nigger, and dem Indians gwine kill you iffen day cotch
+you. Come with me and I ain't 'low dem hurt you.' So I goes with him.
+
+"He brung me to Texas, but I don't know jus' where, 'cause I didn't know
+nothin' 'bout dat place. Massa Sanford good to us, but look out for he
+missus, she sho' tough on niggers. Dere 'bout 1,600 acres in de
+plantation and de big house am nice. When de niggers wouldn't work dey
+whup 'em. Us work all week and sometime Sunday, iffen de crops in a
+rush. Massa not much on presents or money but us have warm clothes and
+plenty to eat and de dry place to live, and dat more'n lots of niggers
+has now.
+
+"Sometime us have de corn huskin' and dere a dollar for de one what
+shuck de mos' corn. Us have de big dance 'bout twict a year, on
+Christmas and sometime in de summer. When de white folks have dere big
+balls us niggers cook and watch dem dance. Us have fun den.
+
+"I likes to think of dem times when us fish all de hot day or hunts or
+jus' lazed 'round when de crops am laid by. I likes to shet de eyes and
+be back in old times and hear 'em sing, "Swing, low, Sweet Chariot." I
+can't sing, now you knows can't no old man sing what ain't got no teef
+or hair. I used to like to swing dat 'Ginia Reel and I's spry and young
+den.
+
+"Dere's lots I can't 'member, 'cause my mem'ry done gone weak like de
+res' of me, but I 'member when us free us throw de hats in de air and
+holler. Old massa say, 'How you gwine eat and git clothes and sech?' Den
+us sho' scairt and stays with us white folks long as us can. But 'bout a
+year after dat I gits de job punchin' cattle on a ranch in South Texas.
+I druv cattle into Kansas, over what de white folks calls de Chissum
+Trail. I worked lots of cattle and is what dey call a top hand. I's
+workin' for Massa Boyd den, and he gits me to drive some cattle to
+Mexico. He say he ain't well no more and for me to sell de cattle and
+send him de money and git de job down dere. I goes on down to Mexico and
+do what he say. I marries a gal name Martina in 1869, down in Matamoras.
+Us have four chillen and she die. Dat break me up and I drifts back to
+Huntsville.
+
+"I done change my name from Scott Bird, what it am up in de Territory,
+and make it James Boyd, 'cause I done work for Massa Boyd. I's gwine be
+'bout 108 year old in next January, iffen de Lawd spare me dat long.
+
+"After I been in Huntsville awhile, I marries Emma Smith but us only
+stay together 'bout a year and a half. Wasn't no chillen. Den I drifts
+to Fort Bend County and dere I marries Mary McDowd and us have two
+chillen. She die with de yellow fever and off I goes for Burleson
+County. Dere I marries Sally McDave and she quits me after us have three
+chillen. Down in old Washington County I marries Frances Williams and us
+lived together till 1900. Dere am no chillen dere. Den I goes to Austin
+after she die and marries Eliza Bunton in 1903. Us have eight chillen
+and she die in 1911. Den I comes to Hill County and marries Mittie Cahee
+in 1916. She quit me. In 1924 I marries Hegar Price clost to Milford. Us
+live together now, in Itasca. Us didn't have no chillen, but dat don't
+matter, 'cause I's de daddy of 'bout twenty already.
+
+"I mos' allus wore de black suit when I marries. Jes' seemed more
+dressed up like. Some my wives wear white and some colors, didn't make
+much diff'rence, so dey a likely lookin' gal for me. Sometime it am a
+preacher and sometime it am Jestice of Peace, but de fust time it am
+Catholic and priest and all.
+
+"Talkin' 'bout all dis marryin', I mos' forgit to show you my scar. I
+fit in dat freedom war 'long side Massa Sanford and got shot. Dat bullet
+go through de breast and out de back and keep me six months in de bed.
+De fust battle I's in am at Halifax, in North Car'lina. Us git de news
+of freedom when us at Vicksburg, in Mississippi. Mos' us niggers 'fraid
+say much. De new niggers 'spect de gov'ment give dem de span of mules
+and dey be rich and not work. But dey done larn a lot dese past years.
+Us am sho' slaves now to hard work, and lucky iffen us git work. Lots
+dem niggers figgers dey'd git dere massa's land, but dey didn't. Dey
+oughta of knowed dey wouldn't. Warn't no plantation ever divided I
+knowed of, but some de massas give de oldest slaves a li'l piece land.
+
+"After de cattle days done gone, I farms in Hill County. I works twelve
+year for Massa Claude Wakefield, right near Milford, too. De old man
+ain't due to live nowhere long and I's gittin' 'bout ready to cross de
+river. I's seed a heap of dis here earth and de people in it, but I
+tells you it am sho' hard time now. Us is old and cripple' and iffen de
+white folks don't holp us I don't know what us gwine do.
+
+"Some dese young niggers gone plumb wild with dere cigars and cars and
+truckin' and jazzin' and sech. Some go to school and larn like white
+folks and teach and be real helpful. But talk 'bout workin' in slave
+time--'twarn't so hard as now. Den you fuss 'cause dere's work, now you
+fuss 'cause dere ain't no work. But den us have somethin' to eat and
+wear and a place to sleep, and now us don't know one day what gwine fill
+us tomorrow, or nothin'.
+
+"I'd sho' like to shake Massa Boyd's hand again and hear him come
+singin' down de lane. Us hear him sing or whistle long 'fore he git dere
+and it mighty good to see him. De slaves allus say, 'I's gwine 'way
+tomorrow,' and I guess I's gwine 'way pretty soon tomorrow.
+
+
+
+
+420195
+
+
+     JERRY BOYKINS, spry and jolly at the age of 92, lived with his aged
+     wife in their own cabin at 1015 Plum St., Abilene, Texas. He was
+     born a slave to John Thomas Boykin, Troupe Co., Georgia, 80 miles
+     from Lagrange, Ga. His master was a very wealthy plantation owner,
+     working 1,000 slaves.
+
+
+"I been well taken care of durin' my life. When I was young I lived
+right in de big house with my marster. I was houseboy. My mother's name
+was Betsy Ann Boykin and she was cook for Old Missus. My grandpa was
+blacksmith. I slept on a pallet in de kitchen and in winter time on cold
+nights I 'members how cold I would get. I'd wake up and slip in by
+marsters bed and den I'd say, 'Marster John, I's about to freeze.' He'd
+say, 'You ought to freeze, you little black devil. What you standin'
+dere for?' I'd say, 'Please, marster John, jes' let me crawl in by your
+feet.' He'd say, 'Well, I will dis one time,' and dat's de way I'd do
+every cold night.
+
+"I was full of mischief and I'd tu'n de mules out of de lot, jus' to see
+de stableboy git a lickin'. One time I wanted a fiddle a white man named
+Cocoanut Harper kep' tryin' to sell me for $7.50. I didn' never have any
+money, 'cept a little the missie give me, so I kep' teasin' her to buy
+de fiddle for me. She was allus on my side, so she tol' me to take some
+co'n from de crib and trade in for de fiddle. In de night I slips out
+and hitch up de mules and fetched de co'n to old Harper's house and
+traded for dat fiddle. Den I hides out and play it, so's marster wouldn'
+fin' out, but he did and he whip all de daylight outta me. When de
+missie try to whip me, I jes' wrop up in her big skirts and she never
+could hurt me much.
+
+"I allus ate my meals in de house at de white folks table, after dey
+done et. Iffen I couldn' sit in de marster's chair, I'd swell up like a
+toad.
+
+"De marster done all de whippin', 'cause dey had been two overseers
+killed on de plantation for whippin' slaves till de blood run out dey
+body.
+
+"Was I bovered with haints and spooks? I been meetin' up with 'em all my
+life. When I was younger I was such an old scratch I'd meet 'em right in
+de road, some without heads. I'd take to my heels and then I'd stop and
+look 'round and they'd be gone.
+
+"I wore home-weaved shirts till I was grown, then I had some pants and
+dey was homemade, too. The women gathered womack leaves to dye de goods
+black.
+
+"I well rec'lects when my marster went to war. He called all us in de
+kitchen and telled us he had to go over dere and whip those
+sons-of-bitches and would be back 'fore breakfast. He didn' return for
+two years. I says, 'Marster, we sho' would have waited breakfast on you
+a long time.' He said, 'Yes; deys de hardes' sons-of-bitches to whip I
+ever had dealins' with.'
+
+"When war was over, he called us together and tol' us we were free. He
+said, 'Now, I'm goin' to give you a big day and after that you can stay
+and work for pay or you can go.' So he rolled out two barrels of whiskey
+and killed hogs and spread a big day.
+
+"I wants to tell you 'bout how we killed hogs in my day. We digged a
+deep pit in de groun' and heated big rocks red hot and filled up de pit
+with water and dropped dem hot rocks in and got de water hot; den we
+stuck de hogs and rolled 'em in dat pit.
+
+"Soon after I's free a man come for me from Louisville to hire me as
+foreman in his cotton mule barn. So I went there and I worked in
+Kentucky for 18 year. Fifty-one years ago I married my ol' woman, Rachel
+Taylor, at Corsicana, Texas, and I think she's jes' as fine as the day I
+married her. We has six chillen and all works hard for a livin' and we
+got one lil' grandbaby 10 years ol'. She lives here at our house and
+we're educatin' her.
+
+"I knows I's goin' to live to be over 100 years ol', 'cause my marster
+done tol' me so."
+
+
+
+
+420073
+
+
+[Illustration: Monroe Brackins]
+
+
+     MONROE BRACKINS, born in Monroe Co., Mississippi, in 1853, was the
+     property of George Reedes. He was brought to Medina County, Texas,
+     when two years old. Monroe learned to snare and break mustangs and
+     became a cowpuncher. He lives in Hondo, Texas. He has an air of
+     pride and self-respect, and explained that he used little dialect
+     because he learned to talk from the "white folks" as he was growing
+     up.
+
+
+"I was bo'n in Mississippi, Monroe County. I'm 84 years old. My master,
+George Reedes, brought me, my father and mother and my two sisters to
+Texas when I was two years old. My father was Nelson Brackins and my
+mother was Rosanna.
+
+"My master settled here at a place called Malone, on the Hondo River. He
+went into the stock business. Our house there was a little, old picket
+house with a grass roof over it out of the sage grass. The bed was made
+with a tick of shucks and the children slept on the floor. The boss had
+just a little lumber house. Later on he taken us about 20 miles fu'ther
+down on the Hondo, the Old Adams Ranch, and he had a rock house.
+
+"I was about six years old then. I had some shoes, to keep the thorns
+outa my feet, and I had rawhide leggin's. We just had such clothes as we
+could get, old patched-up clothes. They just had that jeans cloth,
+homemade clothes.
+
+"I was with George Reedes 10 or 12 years. It was my first trainin'
+learnin' the stock business and horse breakin.' He was tol'able good to
+us, to be slaves as we was. His brother had a hired man that whipped me
+once, with a quirt. I've heard my father and mother tell how they
+whipped 'em. They'd tie 'em down on a log or up to a post and whip 'em
+till the blisters rose, then take a paddle and open 'em up and pour salt
+in 'em. Yes'm, they whipped the women. The most I remember about that,
+my father and sister was in the barn shuckin' co'n and the master come
+in there and whipped my sister with a cowhide whip. My father caught a
+lick in the face and he told the master to keep his whip offen him. So
+the master started on my father and he run away. When he finally come in
+he was so wild his master had to call him to get orders for work, and
+finally the boss shot at him, but they didn't whip him any more. Of
+course, some of 'em whipped with more mercy. They had a whippin' post
+and when they strapped 'em down on a log they called it a 'stroppin'
+log.'
+
+"I remember they tasked the cotton pickers in Mississippi. They had to
+bring in so many pounds in the evenin' and if they didn't they got a
+whippin' for it. My sister there, she had to bring in 900 pounds a day.
+Well, cotton was heavier there. Most any of 'em could pick 900 pounds.
+It was heavier and fluffier. We left the cotton country in Mississippi,
+but nobody knew anything about cotton out here that I knew of.
+
+"I've heard my parents say too, them men that had plantations and a
+great lot of slaves, they would speculate with 'em and would have a
+chain that run from the front ones to the back ones. Sometimes they
+would have 15 or 20 miles to make to get them to the sale place, but
+they couldn't make a break. Where they expected to make a sale, they
+kept 'em in corrals and they had a block there to put 'em up on and bid
+'em off. The average price was about $500, but some that had good
+practice, like a blacksmith, brought a good price, as high as $1,500.
+
+"I heard my mother and father say they would go 15 or 20 miles to a
+dance, walkin', and get back before daylight, before the 'padderollers'
+got 'em. The slaves would go off when they had no permission and them
+that would ketch 'em and whip 'em was the 'padderollers.' Sometimes they
+would have an awful race.
+
+"If they happened to be a slave on the plantation that could jes' read a
+little print, they would get rid of him right now. He would ruin the
+niggers, they would get too smart. The' was no such thing as school here
+for culluds in early days. The white folks we was raised up with had
+pretty good education. That's why I don't talk like most cullud folks. I
+was about grown and the' was an English family settled close, about half
+a mile, I guess. They had a little boy, his name was Arthur Ederle, and
+he come over and learned me how to spell 'cat' and 'dog' and 'hen' and
+such like. I was right around about 20 years old. I couldn't sign my
+name when I was 18 years old.
+
+"I can remember one time when I was young, I saw something I couldn't
+'magine what it was, like a billygoat reared up on a tree. But I knew
+the' wasn't a billygoat round there near, nor no other kinds of goats.
+It was in the daytime and I was out in a horse pasture, I was jes'
+walkin' along, huntin', when I saw that sight. I guess I got within 50
+steps of it, then I turned around and got away. I never did think much
+about a ghost, but I think it could be possible.
+
+"I don't remember scarcely anything about the war because I was so
+little and times was so different; the country wasn't settled up and
+everything was wild, no people, hardly. Of course, my life was in the
+woods, you might say, didn't hardly know when Sunday come.
+
+"The northern soldiers never did get down in here that I know of. I know
+once, when they was enlisting men to go to battle a whole lot of 'em
+didn't want to fight and would run away and dodge out, and they would
+follow 'em and try to make 'em fight. They had a battle up here on the
+Nueces once and killed some of 'em. I know my boss was in the bunch that
+followed 'em and he got scared for fear this old case would be brought
+up after the war. The company that followed these men was called Old
+Duff Company. I think somewhere around 40 was in the bunch that they
+followed, but I don't know how many was killed. They was a big bluff and
+a big water hole and they said they was throwed in that big water hole.
+
+"We had possums and 'coons to eat sometimes. My father, he gen'rally
+cooked the 'coons, he would dress 'em and stew 'em and then bake 'em. My
+mother wouldn't eat them. There was plenty of rabbits, too. Sometimes
+when they had potatoes they cooked 'em with 'em. I remember one time
+they had just a little patch of blackhead sugar cane. After the freedom,
+my mother had a kind of garden and she planted snap beans and
+watermelons pretty much every year.
+
+"The master fed us tol'bly well. Everything was wild, beef was free,
+just had to bring one in and kill it. Once in awhile, of a Sunday
+mornin', we'd get biscuit flour bread to eat. It was a treat to us. They
+measured the flour out and it had to pan out just like they measured. He
+give us a little somethin' ever' Christmas and somethin' good to eat. I
+heard my people say coffee was high, at times, and I know we didn't get
+no flour, only Sunday mornin'. We lived on co'nbread, mostly, and beef
+and game outta the woods. That was durin' the war and after the war,
+too.
+
+"I was around about 6 or 7 years old when we was freed. We worked for
+George Reedes awhile, then drifted on down to the Frio river and stayed
+there about a year, then we come to Medina County and settled here close
+to where I was raised. We didn't think it hard times at all right after
+the war. The country was wild and unsettled, with ranches 15 or 20 miles
+apart. You never did see anybody and we didn't know really what was
+goin' on in the rest of the country. Sometimes something could happen in
+5 miles of us and we didn't know it for a month.
+
+"I was on the Adams Ranch on the Hondo when my master come out and told
+us we were as free as he was. He said we could stay on and work or could
+go if we wanted to. He gave my mother and father 50 cents apiece and 25
+cents for the children. We stayed awhile and then went west to the Frio.
+
+"I used to be along with old man Big-foot Wallace in my early days. He
+was a mighty fine man. I worked for the people that was gathering stock
+together there. Big Foot raised nice horses, old reg'lar Texas horses,
+and they was better than the reg'lar old Spanish bronco. I used to go to
+his camp down on the San Miguel. He lived in one part and his chickens
+in the rest of his house. His friends liked to hear him talk about his
+travels. He used to run stock horses and had a figger 7 on the left
+shoulder for his brand and the tip of each ear split was his earmark.
+
+"The last man I broke horses for was Wilson Bailey. I was there about 12
+years. He raised just cavi-yard--we called it a cavi-yard of horses,
+just the same thing as a _remuda_. We called 'em that later, but we got
+that from the Spanish. We would get up in a tree with our loop till the
+horse come under and drop it down on him. When they were so spoilt, we
+got 'em in a sort of cavi-yard and drove 'em under trees and caught 'em
+in a snare. We had lots of wild horses, just this side of Pearsall.
+'Bout the only way I'd get throwed was to get careless. We'd ketch 'im
+up, hackamore 'im up, saddle 'im up and get on 'im and let 'im go.
+Sometimes he'd be too wild to pitch, he'd break and run and you had to
+let 'im run himself down. I used to rather ketch up a wild horse and
+break 'im than to eat breakfast.
+
+"When I first started farmin' I taken up some state land, about 80
+acres, down on Black Creek, in Medina County. I stayed there ten or
+twelve years. Cotton hadn't got in this country and I raised some corn,
+sugar cane and watermelons. I commenced with horses, but 'long 'way down
+the line I used oxen some, too. I used one of those old walking plows.
+
+"I sold that place and moved to a place on the Tywaukney Creek
+(Tonkawa). I come up to church and met my wife then. Her name was Ida
+Bradley and I was 38 years old. We lived down on the Tywaukney right
+about 23 years and raised our children there. We jes' had a little home
+weddin'. I wore a suit, dark suit. We got married about 8 o'clock in the
+evenin' and we had barbecue, cake and ice cream. You see, in them times
+I wasn't taught anything about years and dates, but I judge it was about
+25 years after the war before I settled on the Tywaukney."
+
+
+
+
+420310
+
+
+     GUS BRADSHAW was born about 1845, at Keecheye, Alabama, a slave of
+     David Cavin. He recalls being brought to Texas in the 1850's, when
+     the Cavin family settled near old Port Caddo. Gus remained with his
+     master for ten years after emancipation. He now lives alone on a
+     fifty acre farm seven miles northeast of Marshall, which he bought
+     in 1877. Gus receives an $11.00 per month pension.
+
+
+"I was born at Keecheye, Alabama, and belonged to old man David Cavin.
+The only statement I can make 'bout my age is I knows I was 'bout twenty
+years old when us slaves was freed. I never knowed my daddy, but my
+mammy was Amelia Cavin. I's heard her say she's born in Alabama more
+times than I got fingers and toes. Our old master brung us to Texas when
+I's a good sized kid. I 'members like it am yesterday, how we camped
+more'n a week in New Orleans. I seed 'em sell niggers off the block
+there jus' like they was cattle. Then we came to old Port Caddo on Caddo
+Lake and master settles a big farm close to where the boats run. Port
+Caddo was a big shipping place then, and Dud and John Perry run the
+first store there. The folks hauled cotton there from miles away.
+
+"Mammy's folks was named Maria and Joe Gloster and they come to Texas
+with the Cavins. My grandma say to me, 'Gus, don't run you mouth too
+much and allus have manners to whites and blacks.' Chillen was raise
+right then, but now they come up any way. I seed young niggers turn the
+dipper up and drink 'fore old folks. I wouldn't dare do that when I's
+comin' up.
+
+"Maria say to me one day, 'Son, I's here when the stars fell.' She tell
+me they fell like a sheet and spread over the ground. Ike Hood, the old
+blacksmith on our place, he told me, too. I says, 'Ike, how old was you
+when the stars fell?' He say, 'I's thirty-two.'
+
+"Massa David had big quarters for us niggers, with chimneys and
+fireplaces. They use to go round and pick up old hawg or cow bones to
+bile with greens and cabbage. They was plenty of wild game, and deer and
+wolves howlin' right through this country, but you can't even find the
+track of one now.
+
+"The first work I done was pickin' cotton. Every fellow was out at
+daylight pickin' cotton or hoein' or plowin'. They was one overseer and
+two nigger drivers. But at night you could hear us laughin' and talkin'
+and singin' and prayin', and hear them fiddles and things playin'. It
+look like darkies git 'long more better then than now. Some folks says
+niggers oughtn't to be slaves, but I says they ought, 'cause they jus'
+won't do right onless they is made to do it.
+
+"Massa David allus give us eggnog and plenty good whiskey at Christmas.
+We had all day to eat and drink and sing and dance. We didn't git no
+presents, but we had a good time.
+
+"I don't know much 'bout the war, only Massa Bob Perry come over one day
+and say to Grandma Maria, 'They is surrender, Maria, you is free.' She
+say to him, 'I don't care, I gwine stay with my white folks.'
+
+"The Klu Klux done lots of cuttin' up round there. Two of 'em come to
+Dr. Taylor's house. He had two niggers what run off from the Klux and
+they want to whip 'em, but Dr. Taylor wouldn't 'low 'em. I knowed old
+Col. Alford, one of the Klux leaders, and he was a sight. He told me
+once, 'Gus, they done send me to the pen for Kluxing.' I say, 'Massa
+Alford, didn't they make a gentleman of you?' He say, 'Hell, no!'
+
+"I knowed old Col. Haggerdy, too. He marries a widow of a rich old
+Indian chief, name McIntosh. He broke a treaty with his people and had
+to hide out in a cave a long time, and his wife brung food to him. One
+time when she went to the cave he was gone. She knowed then the Indians
+done git him and kilt him for vi'latin' the treaty. So she marries old
+Col. Haggerdy.
+
+"The only time I votes was against whiskey. I voted for it. Some white
+folks done say they'd whip me if I voted for it, but Mr. Joe Strickland
+done told me they jus' tryin' scare me, so I voted for it. I don't think
+niggers ought to vote. If some niggers had things in hand 'stead of
+white folks, I couldn't stay here. These eddicated niggers am causin'
+the devilment. The young niggers ain't got no 'spect for old age.
+
+"I bought and paid for fifty acres land here in Harrison County and I
+has lived on it sixty years. I lived with my wife fifty years 'fore she
+died and done raise two chillen. These young niggers don't stay married
+fifty days, sometimes. I don't mess with 'em, but if I needs help I goes
+to the white folks. If you 'have youself, they allus help you if you
+needs it.
+
+
+
+
+420240
+
+
+[Illustration: Wes Brady]
+
+
+     WES BRADY, 88, was born a slave of John Jeems, who had a farm five
+     miles north of Marshall. Wes has farmed in Harrison County all his
+     life. He now lives with friends on the Long's Camp Road, and draws
+     a $11.00 monthly pension.
+
+
+"I was born and raised in Harrison County, and I was eighty-eight years
+old this July past and has wore myself out here in this county. I was
+born on Massa John Jeem's place, on the old Jefferson Road, and my
+father was Peter Calloway, and he was born in Alabama and his whole
+fam'ly brought to Texas by nigger traders. My mother was Harriet Ellis
+and I had two brothers named George and Andrew, and four sisters, Lula
+and Judy and Mary and Sallie. My old Grandpa Phil told me how he helped
+run the Indians off the land.
+
+"Grandpa Phil told me 'bout meetin' his massa. Massa Jeems had three or
+four places and grandpa hadn't seed him and he went to one of the other
+farms and meets a man goin' down the road. The man say, 'Who you belong
+to?' Grandpa Phil say, 'Massa Jeems.' The man say, 'Is he a mean man?'
+Grandpa say, 'I don't know him, but they say he's purty tight.' It was
+Massa Jeems talkin' and he laughs and gives Grandpa Phil five dollars.
+
+"We niggers lived in log houses and slep' on hay mattress with lowell
+covers, and et fat pork and cornbread and 'lasses and all kinds garden
+stuff. If we et flour bread, our women folks had to slip the flour
+siftin's from missy's kitchen and darsn't let the white folks know it.
+We wore one riggin' lowell clothes a year and I never had shoes on till
+after surrender come. I run all over the place till I was a big chap in
+jes' a long shirt with a string tied round the bottom for a belt. I went
+with my young massa that way when he hunted in the woods, and toted
+squirrels for him.
+
+"Some white folks might want to put me back in slavery if I tells how we
+was used in slavery time, but you asks me for the truth. The overseer
+was 'straddle his big horse at three o'clock in the mornin', roustin'
+the hands off to the field. He got them all lined up and then come back
+to the house for breakfas'. The rows was a mile long and no matter how
+much grass was in them, if you leaves one sprig on your row they beats
+you nearly to death. Lots of times they weighed cotton by candlelight.
+All the hands took dinner to the field in buckets and the overseer give
+them fifteen minutes to git dinner. He'd start cuffin' some of them over
+the head when it was time to stop eatin' and go back to work. He'd go to
+the house and eat his dinner and then he'd come back and look in all the
+buckets and if a piece of anything that was there when he left was et,
+he'd say you was losin' time and had to be whipped. He'd drive four
+stakes in the ground and tie a nigger down and beat him till he's raw.
+Then he'd take a brick and grind it up in a powder and mix it with lard
+and put it all over him and roll him in a sheet. It'd be two days or
+more 'fore that nigger could work 'gain. I seed one nigger done that way
+for stealin' a meat bone from the meathouse. That nigger got fifteen
+hundred lashes. The li'l chaps would pick up egg shells and play with
+them and if the overseer seed them he'd say you was stealin' eggs and
+give you a beatin'. I seed long lines of slaves chained together driv by
+a white man on a hoss, down the Jefferson road.
+
+"The first work I done was drappin' corn, and then cow-pen boy and sheep
+herder. All us house chaps had to shell a half bushel corn every night
+for to feed the sheep. Many times I has walked through the quarters when
+I was a little chap, cryin' for my mother. We mos'ly only saw her on
+Sunday. Us chillen was in bed when the folks went to the field and come
+back. I 'members wakin' up at night lots of times and seein' her make a
+little mush on the coals in the fireplace, but she allus made sho' that
+overseer was asleep 'fore she done that.
+
+"One time the stock got in the field and the overseer 'cuses a old man
+and jumps on him and breaks his neck. When he seed the old man dead, he
+run off to the woods, but massa sent some nigger after him and say for
+him to come back, the old man jus' got overhet and died.
+
+"We went to church on the place and you ought to heared that preachin'.
+Obey your massa and missy, don't steal chickens and eggs and meat, but
+nary a word 'bout havin' a soul to save.
+
+"We had parties Saturday nights and massa come out and showed us new
+steps. He allus had a extra job for us on Sunday, but he gave us
+Christmas Day and all the meat we wanted. But if you had money you'd
+better hide it, 'cause he'd git it.
+
+"The fightin' was did off from us. My father went to war to wait on Josh
+Calloway. My father never come back. Massa Jeems cussed and 'bused us
+niggers more'n ever, but he took sick and died and stepped off to Hell
+'bout six months 'fore we got free. When we was free, they beat drums in
+Marshall. I stayed on 'bout seven months and then my mother and me went
+to farmin' for ourselves.
+
+"I wore myself out right in this county and now I'm too old to work.
+These folks I lives with takes good care of me and the gov'ment gives me
+$11.00 a month what I is proud to git.
+
+
+
+
+420165
+
+
+     JACOB BRANCH, about 86, was a slave of the Van Loos family, in
+     Louisiana, who sold him when a baby to Elisha Stevenson, of Double
+     Bayou, Texas. Jacob helps his son, Enrichs, farm, and is unusually
+     agile for his age. They live in the Double Bayou settlement, near
+     Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"I's bought and fotched here to Double Bayou when I's jes' three year
+old. I and my half-brother, Eleck, he de baby, was both born in
+Louisiana on de Van Loos place, but I go by de name of Branch, 'cause my
+daddy name Branch. My mama name Renee. Dey split up us family and Elisha
+Stevenson buy my mama and de two chillen. I ain't never see my daddy no
+more and don't 'member him at all.
+
+"Old 'Lisha Stevenson he a great one for to raise pigs. He sell sometime
+500 hawgs at one time. He take he dogs and drive dem hawgs 'cross de
+Neches River all by hisself, to sell dem. Dat how he git money to buy de
+niggers, sellin' hawgs and cowhides.
+
+"Old massa he sho' a good old man, but de old missy, she a tornado! Her
+name Miss 'Liza. She could be terrible mean. But sometime she take her
+old morrel--dat a sack make for to carry things in--and go out and come
+back with plenty joints of sugar cane. She take a knife and sit on de
+gallary and peel dat cane and give a joint to every one de li'l chillen.
+
+"Mama, she work up in de big house, doin' cookin' and washin'. Old massa
+go buy a cullud man name Uncle Charley Fenner. He a good old cullud man.
+Massa brung him to de quarters and say, 'Renee, here you husband,' and
+den he turn to Uncle and say, 'Charley, dis you woman.' Den dey
+consider marry. Dat de way dey marry den, by de massa's word. Uncle
+Charley, he good step-pa to us.
+
+"De white folks have de good house with a brick chimney. Us quarters de
+good, snug li'l house with flue and oven. Dey didn't bother to have much
+furn'chure, 'cause us in dere only to sleep. Us have homemake bench and
+'Georgia Hoss' bed with hay mattress. All us cookin' and eatin' done in
+de kitchen de big house. Us have plenty to eat, too. De smokehouse allus
+full white 'taters and cracklin's hangin' on de wall. Us git dem mos'
+any time us want, jes' so long us didn't waste nothin'. Dey have big jar
+with buttermilk and 'low us drink all us want.
+
+"Old lady 'Liza, she have three women to spin when she git ready make de
+clothes for everybody. Dey spin and weave and make all us clothes. Us
+all wear shirt tail till us 'bout twelve or fourteen, boys and gals,
+too. You couldn't tell us apart.
+
+"Us chillen start to work soon's us could toddle. First us gather
+firewood. Iffen it freezin' or hot us have to go to toughen us up. When
+us git li'l bigger us tend de cattle and feed hosses and hawgs. By time
+us good sprouts us pickin' cotton and pullin' cane. Us ain't never idle.
+Sometime us git far out in de field and lay down in de corn row and nap.
+But, Lawdy, iffen dey cotch you, dey sho' wore you out! Sunday de
+onliest rest day and den de white folks 'low us play.
+
+"Massa never whup Uncle Charley, 'cause he good nigger and work hard. It
+make missy mad and one time when massa gone she go down in de field.
+Uncle Charley hoein' corn jes' like massa done told him, jes' singin'
+and happy. Old missy she say, 'Nigger, I's sho gwineter whup you.' He
+say, 'What for you whup me. I doin' every bit what old massa done tell
+me.' But missy think he gittin' it too good, 'cause he ain't never been
+whupped. She clumb over de fence and start down de row with de cowhide.
+Uncle Charley, he ain't even raise he voice, but he cut de las' weed
+outen dat corn and commence to wave he hoe in de air, and he say,
+'Missy, I ain't 'vise you come any step closeter.' Dat sho' make her
+mad, but she 'fraid to do nothin'.
+
+"One time she have 'nother nigger name Charlie. Massa go on de trip and
+she tell dis Charley iffen he ain't finish grindin' all de cornmeal by
+Monday she gwineter give him a t'ousand lashes. He try, but he ain't
+able make dat much meal, so come Monday he runned off in de bayou. Dat
+night come de big freeze and he down dere with water up to he knees and
+when massa come home and go git him, he so froze he couldn't walk. Dey
+brung him in de kitchen and old missy cuss him out. Soon's he thaw out,
+he done die right dere on de spot.
+
+"My pore mama! Every washday old missy give her de beatin'. She couldn't
+keep de flies from speckin' de clothes overnight. Old missy git up soon
+in de mornin', 'fore mama have time git dem specks off. She snort and
+say, 'Renee, I's gwineter teach you how to wash.' Den she beat mama with
+de cowhide. Look like she cut my mama in two. Many's de time I edges up
+and tries take some dem licks off my mama.
+
+"Slavery, one to 'nother, was purty rough. Every plantation have to
+answer for itself.
+
+"I used to know lots of songs, but I don't know many now. Spiritual
+songs, dey comes through visions. Dat's why cullud folks can make dem
+better dan white folks. I knowed one song what start out--
+
+"'De Jews done kill pore Jesus,
+And bury him in de sepulchur;
+De grave wouldn't hold him,
+Dey place guards all 'round him,
+But de angels move de stone,
+De Jews done kill pore Jesus,
+But de grave it wouldn't hold him.'
+
+"Dey 'nother song what say--
+
+"'Run, sinner, run,
+Gawd is a-callin' you.
+Run, sinner, run,
+De fire'll overtake you.'
+
+"When I 'bout ten dey sets me ginnin' cotton. Old massa he done make de
+cotton with de hand crank. It built on a bench like. I gin de cotton by
+turnin' dat crank. When I gits a lapful I puts it in de tow sack and dey
+take it to Miss Susan to make de twine with it. I warm and damp de
+cotton 'fore de fireplace 'fore I start ginnin' it.
+
+"Dere school for de white chillen in Double Bayou and I used to go meet
+de chillen comin' home and dey stop longside de way and teach me my ABC.
+Dey done carry me as far as Baker in de book when old missy find it out
+and make dem stop. De war comin' on den and us daren't even pick up a
+piece of paper. De white folks didn't want us to larn to read for fear
+us find out things.
+
+"Us livin' down by de Welborn's den and I seed dem haul de logs out of
+Pine Island to make dat Welborn house. Old man Hamshire and old man
+Remington builded dat Welborn house. It 'cross de bayou, left hand side
+Smith's ferry. Dat house still standin' in parts.
+
+"One mornin' Eleck and me git up at crack of dawn to milk. All at once
+come a shock what shake de earth. De big fish jump clean out de bay and
+turtles and alligators run out dere ponds. Dey plumb ruint Galveston!
+Us runned in de house and all de dishes and things done jump out de
+shelf. Dat de first bombardment of Galveston. De sojers put powder under
+people's houses and blowin' up Galveston.
+
+"Young massa Shake Stevenson he vol'teer and git kilt somewheres in
+Virginny. Young massa Tucker Stevenson, he ain't 'lieve in war and he
+say he never gwine fight. He hide in de woods so de conscrip' men can't
+find him. Old man LaCour come 'round and say he have orders for find
+Tucker and bring him in dead or 'live. But 'cause he old massa's friend,
+he say, 'Why don't you buy de boy's services off?' So old massa take de
+boat, 'Catrig,' us calls it, and loads it with corn and sich and us pole
+it down to Galveston. De people need dat food so much, dat load supplies
+done buy off Massa Tucker from fightin'.
+
+"After war starts lots of slaves runned off to git to de Yankees. All
+dem in dis part heads for de Rio Grande river. De Mexicans rig up
+flat-boats out in de middle de river, tied to stakes with rope. When de
+cullud people gits to de rope dey can pull deyself 'cross de rest de way
+on dem boats. De white folks rid de 'Merican side dat river all de time,
+but plenty slaves git through, anyway.
+
+"I wait on lots of sojers. I have to get smartweed and bile it in salt
+water to bath dem in. Dat help de rheumatism. Dem sojers have rheumatism
+so bad for standin' day and night in de water.
+
+"Us sho' in good health dem days. Iffen a cullud man weak dey move de
+muscles in he arms, bleed him and give him plenty bacon and cornbread,
+and he git so strong he could lift a log. Dey didn't go in for cuttin',
+like dey do now. Dey git herbs out de woods, blue mass and quinine and
+calomel. I think people jes' die under pills, now. Old lady Field she
+make medicine with snakeroot and larkspur and marshroot and redroot.
+
+"After war am over Massa Tucker brung de freedom papers and read dem. He
+say us all am free as Hell. Old man Charley so happy he jes' roll on de
+floor like a hoss and kick he heels. De nex' mornin' mama start do
+somethin' and missy cuss her out. I runned to missy and say, 'Us free as
+de bird.' She sho' whup me for dat, but no more, 'cause she so mean us
+all leave.
+
+"Dat funny. Old man LaFour, what de head de patterrollers and so mean,
+he de first to help us niggers after freedom. He loan us he ox team and
+pay Uncle Charley a dollar de day for work and a dollar every time my
+mama wash for he wife.
+
+"Old massa and missy split up. She so bad she ain't give him no better
+show dan she done us. Old massa gittin' some peaches one day and she
+come after him with de buggy whip. He git on he hoss and say, 'Liz,
+you's gittin' broad as de beef. You too big for me.' She so mad she spit
+fire. Lightenin' done kill her, she upstairs and de big streak hits her.
+It knock her under de bed.
+
+"De first freedom work I done am pullin' up potato hills at two bits a
+hunnerd. 'Bout two bits de most us could make in one day. I work two
+days to buy mama de turkey hen for Christmas. Anything mama want I think
+she got to have. I's growed 'fore I gits much as four bits a day. I's
+done earn as much as $1.50 in my time, though.
+
+"When I's 25 year old I marries Betty Baker but she dead now. De Rev.
+Patterson he marry us. Us has four chillen livin'. Turah and Renee, dat
+my gals, and Enrichs and Milton, dat my boys. Milton work in Houston and
+Enrich help me farm. I's a Mason 30 year. De lodge split up now, but it
+answer.
+
+
+
+
+420069
+
+
+[Illustration: William Branch]
+
+
+     WILLIAM BRANCH, born 1850, 322 Utah St., San Antonio, Texas.
+     Eyesight is so poor someone must lead him to the store or to
+     church. William kneels at his bedside each evening at five and says
+     his prayers. In this ceremony he spends a half hour or more
+     chanting one Negro spiritual after another.
+
+
+"Yahsur, I was a slave. I was bo'n May 13, 1850, on the place of Lawyer
+Woodson in Lunenburg County, Virginia. It was 'bout 75 miles southwest
+of Richmond. They was two big plantations, one on one side the road,
+yother the yother. My marster owned 75 slaves. He raised tobacco and
+cotton. I wukked tobacco sometime, sometime cotton. Dere wasn't no
+whippin' or switchin'. We had to wuk hard. Marster Woodson was a rich
+man. He live in a great big house, a lumber house painted white. And it
+had a great big garden.
+
+"De slaves lives in a long string of log houses. Dey had dirt floors and
+shingle roofs. Marster Woodson's house was shingle roof too. We had home
+cured bacon and veg'tables, dried co'n, string beans and dey give us hoe
+cakes baked in hot ashes. Dere always was lots of fresh milk.
+
+"How'd us slaves git de clothes? We carded de cotton, den de women spin
+it on a spinnin' wheel. After dat day sew de gahment togeddah
+on a sewin' machine. Yahsur, we's got sewin' machine, wid a big wheel
+and a handle. One woman tu'n de handle and de yuther woman do de
+sewin'.
+
+"Dat's how we git de clothes for de 75 slaves. Marster's clothes? We
+makes dem for de whole fam'ly. De missis send de pattren and de slaves
+makes de clothes. Over nigh Richmond a fren' of Marster Woodson has 300
+slaves. Dey makes all de clothes for dem.
+
+"I was with Marster twel de Yankees come down to Virginia in 1861. De
+sergeant of de Yankees takes me up on his hoss and I goes to Washington
+wid de Yankees. I got to stay dere 'cause I'd run away from my marster.
+
+"I stay at de house of Marse Frank Cayler. He's an ole time hack driver.
+I was his houseboy. I stay dere twel de year 1870, den I goes to
+Baltimore and jines de United States Army. We's sent to Texas 'count of
+de Indians bein' so bad. Dey put us on a boat at Baltimore and we landed
+at Galveston.
+
+"Den we marches from Galveston to Fort Duncan. It was up, up, de whole
+time. We ties our bedclothes and rolls dem in a bundle wid a strap. We
+walks wid our guns and bedclothes on our backs, and de wagons wid de
+rations follows us. Dey is pulled by mules. We goes 15 miles ev'ry day.
+We got no tents, night come, we unrolls de blankets and sleeps under de
+trees, sometime under de brush.
+
+"For rations we got canned beans, milk and hardtack. De hard tacks is 3
+or 4 in a box, we wets 'em in water and cooks 'em in a skillet. We gits
+meat purty often. When we camps for de night de captain say, 'You'all
+kin go huntin'.' Before we git to de mountains dere's deer and rabbits
+and dey ain't no fences. Often in de dark we sees a big animal and we
+shoots. When we bring 'im to camp, de captain say, 'Iffen de cow got
+iron burns de rancher gwineter shoot hisself a nigger scout.' But de cow
+ain't got no iron, it's--what de name of de cow what ain't feel de iron?
+Mavrick, yahsur. We eats lots of dem Mavricks. We's goin' 'long de
+river bottom, and before we comes to Fort Duncan we sees de cactus and
+muskeet. Dere ain't much cattle, but one colored scout shoots hisself a
+bear. Den we eats high. Fort Duncan were made of slab lumber and de roof
+was gravel and grass.
+
+"Den we's ordered to Fort Davis and we's in de mountains now. Climb,
+climb all day, and de Indians give us a fit ev'ry day. We kills some
+Indians, dey kills a few soldiers. We was at Fort Clark a while. At Fort
+Davis I jines de colored Indian Scouts, I was in Capt. George L.
+Andrew's Co. K.
+
+"We's told de northern Cheyennes is on a rampus and we's goin' to Fort
+Sill in Indian Territory. Before we gits to Fort Concho (San Angelo) de
+Comanches and de Apaches give us a fit. We fitten' 'em all de time and
+when we gits away from de Comanches and Apaches we fitten de Cheyennes.
+Dey's seven feet tall. Dey couldn't come through that door.
+
+"When we gits to Fort Sill, Gen. Davidson say de Cheyennes is off de
+reservation, and he say, 'You boys is got to git dem back. Iffen you
+kill 'em, dey can't git back to de reservation.' Den we goes scoutin'
+for de Cheyennes and dey is scoutin' for us. Dey gits us first, on de
+Wichita River was 500 of 'em, and we got 75 colored Indian Scouts. Den
+Red Foot, de Chief of de Cheyennes, he come to see Capt. Lawson and say
+he want rations for his Indians. De captain say he cain't give no
+rations to Indians off de reservation. Red Foot say he don't care 'bout
+no reservation and he say he take what we got. Capt. Lawson 'low we
+gotter git reinforcements. We got a guide in de scout troop, he call
+hisself Jack Kilmartin. De captain say, 'Jack, I'se in trouble, how kin
+I git a dispatch to Gen. Davidson?' Jack say, 'I kin git it through.'
+And Jack, he crawl on his belly and through de brush and he lead a pony,
+and when he gits clear he rides de pony bareback twel he git to Fort
+Sill. Den Gen. Davidson, he soun' de gin'ral alarm and he send two
+companies of cavalry to reinforce us. But de Cheyennes give 'em a fit
+all de way, dey's gotter cut dere way through de Cheyennes.
+
+"And Col. Shafter comes up, and goes out in de hills in his shirt
+sleeves jus' like you's sittin' dere. Dey's snow on de groun' and de
+wind's cole, but de colonel don't care, and he say, 'Whut's dis order
+Gen. Davidson give? Don' kill de Cheyennes? You kill 'em all from de
+cradle to de Cross.'
+
+"And den we starts de attack. De Cheyennes got Winchesters and rifles
+and repeaters from de government. Yahsur, de government give 'em de guns
+dey used to shoot us. We got de ole fashion muzzle loaders. You puts one
+ball in de muzzle and shove de powder down wid de ramrod. Den we went in
+and fit 'em, and 'twas like fightin' a wasp's nest. Dey kills a lot of
+our boys and we nearly wipes 'em out. Den we disarms de Cheyennes we
+captures, and turns dere guns in to de regiment.
+
+"I come to San Antonio after I'se mustered out and goes to work for de
+Bell Jewelry Company and stays dere twel I cain't work no more. Did I
+like de army? Yahsur, I'd ruthuh be in de army dan a plantation slave."
+
+
+
+
+420230
+
+
+[Illustration: Clara Brim]
+
+
+     CLARA BRIM, slave of William Lyons of Branch, Louisiana, now lives
+     in Beaumont, Texas. The town of Branch was known in slave days as
+     Plaquemine Bouley. Clara estimates her age to be 100 or 102, and
+     from various facts known to her and her family, this would seem to
+     be correct.
+
+
+"Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't have no old missus, 'cause
+he was a bachelor. He had a big plantation. I don't know how big but dey
+somethin' like twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies had
+plenty in dem. My ma was Becky Brim and pa, he name Louis Brim. She come
+from Old Virginny. Dey work in de field. I had two sister name Cass and
+Donnie and a brudder name Washington. He went off to de war. When it
+break out dey come and take him off to work in de army. He lost in dat
+war. He didn't come back. Nobody ever know what happen to him.
+
+"Some de houses log house and some plank, but dey all good. Dey well
+built and had brick chimneys. Dey houses what de wind didn't blow in. Us
+had beds, too, not dem built in de wall. Us sho' treat good in slavery
+times, yes, suh. Old massa give us plenty clothes to keep us good and
+warm. He sho' did.
+
+"Old massa, he wasn't marry and eat de same things de slaves eat. He
+didn't work dem in de heat of de day. 'Bout eleven o'clock, when dat sun
+git hot, he call dem out de field. He give dem till it git kind of cool
+befo' he make dem go back in de field. He didn't have no overseer. He
+seed 'bout de plantation hisself. He raise cotton and corn and sweet
+'taters and peas and cane, didn't fool with rice. He didn't go in for
+oats, neither.
+
+"When Sunday come Old Massa ask who want to go to church. Dem what wants
+could ride hoss-back or walk. Us go to de white folks church. Dey sot in
+front and us sot in back. Us had prayer meetin', too, reg'lar every
+week. One old cullud man a sort of preacher. He de leader in 'ligion.
+
+"When de slaves go to work he give dem de task. Dat so much work, so
+many rows cotton to chop or corn to hoe. When dey git through dey can do
+what dey want. He task dem on Monday. Some dem git through Thursday
+night. Den dey can hire out to somebody and git pay for it.
+
+"Old Massa even git de preacher for marryin' de slaves. And when a slave
+die, he git de preacher and have Bible readin' and prayin'. Mostest de
+massas didn't do dat-a-way.
+
+"I as big in war time as I is now. I used to do anything in de field
+what de men done. I plow and pull fodder and pick cotton. But de hardes'
+work I ever done am since I free. Old Massa, he didn't work us hard,
+noway.
+
+"He allus give us de pass, so dem patterrollers not cotch us. Dey 'bout
+six men on hoss-back, ridin' de roads to cotch niggers what out without
+de pass. Iffen dey cotch him it am de whippin'. But de niggers on us
+place was good and civ'lized folks. Dey didn't have no fuss. Old Massa
+allus let dem have de garden and dey can raise things to eat and sell.
+Sometime dey have some pig and chickens.
+
+"I been marry his' one time and he been dead 'bout forty-one years now.
+I stay with Old Massa long time after freedom. In 1913 I come live with
+my youngest girl here in Beaumont. You see, I can't 'member so much. I
+has lived so long my 'memberance ain't so good now.
+
+
+
+
+420248
+
+
+[Illustration: Sylvester Brooks]
+
+
+     SYLVESTER BROOKS, 87, was born in Green County, Alabama, a slave of
+     Josiah Collier. The old Negro's memory is poor, but he managed to
+     recall a few incidents of slave days. He lives in Mart, Texas.
+
+
+"I's born 'bout de year 1850, near de Tom Bigbee river in Alabama, on a
+plantation own by Marse Josiah Collier. My folks was Henderson and
+Martha Brooks and I's de only child den.
+
+"Marse Collier owned seventy fam'lies of slaves and dey all lived in dey
+quarters 'bout a mile from de big house. When freedom come Marse Collier
+sent for all de slaves and lines us up in a row, two deep, and helt up
+he hands and say, 'Boys, you is free as I is. All of you what wants to
+can go, and all of you what wants to can work for me on wages dis year.
+Next year I'll give you a crop or work for wages.' Dey all stays but
+two, and one of dem two my daddy, and he lef' mammy and six chillen and
+never come back.
+
+"Us stays on till Marse Collier and Missus both dies, and den stays with
+he oldes' gal, and didn't go 'way till we's growed and has fam'lies of
+our own.
+
+"I 'members best de Fourth of July. De white folks have lots to eat for
+dem and us and we plays games and goes swimmin'.
+
+"Next thing I 'members is de patterrollers, 'cause dey whip me every
+time dey cotches me without my pass. Dat de way dey make us stay home at
+night, and it made good niggers out of us, 'cause we couldn't chase
+round and git in no meanness.
+
+"Old Marse often told me 'bout de stars fallin'. It was 'long 'bout
+sundown and growed dark all a sudden and de chickens goes to roost. Den
+some stars with long tails 'gins to shoot, den it look like all de
+stars had come out of Heaven, and did dey fall! De stars not all what
+fell. De white folks and de niggers fell on dere knees, prayin' to Gawd
+to save dem iffen de world comin' to a end, and de women folks all run
+down in de cellar and stayed till mornin'. Old Marse say it was in 1833,
+and he say dem stars fall awhile and quit awhile, like de showers when
+it rains.
+
+"'Bout a year after freedom Old Marse give us a piece of land for a
+church and dis was de school, too. De preacher's name was Christmas
+Crawford, and dat de reason I 'members it, it so funny to us. De nigger
+teacher named Nimron. De niggers has de blueback spellers and larns
+'rithmetic, too.
+
+"On Thanksgivin' Day de niggers goes round to de white folks houses and
+gives a ser'nade, like dis:
+
+"'De old bee make de honeycomb,
+  De young bee make de honey--
+  De nigger make de cotton and corn,
+  And de white folks git de money.
+
+"'De raccoon he a curious man,
+  He never works till dark;
+  Nothin' ever 'sturbs he mind,
+  Till he hear old Towser bark.'
+
+"Den de white folks asks us in and help ourselves to de cake or wine or
+whatever dey has, and we does dis on Christmas, too.
+
+"We had a song we'd sing when we's thinkin' of comin' to Texas:
+
+"'We'll put for de South, for seven-up and loo,
+  Chime in, niggers, won't you come 'long, too?
+  No use talkin' when de nigger wants to go,
+  Where de corn top blossoms and canebrakes grow.
+  Come 'long, Cuba, and dance de polka juba,
+  Way down South, where de corn tops grow.'
+
+"I'd like to be in old Alabama to die, but Old Marse and Missus gone,
+and it ain't no use goin' dere no more.
+
+
+
+
+420014
+
+
+[Illustration: Donaville Broussard]
+
+
+     DONAVILLE BROUSSARD, a polished gentleman of his race, was the son
+     of a mulatto slave of Emilier Caramouche. He was born in 1850, but
+     appears vigorous. Light skinned, with blue eyes and a genial
+     expression, he gave the story of his life in the French patois
+     spoken by Louisiana French Negroes, which has been translated into
+     English.
+
+
+"My mama was daughter of one of the Carmouche boys. One of M'sieur
+Francois' sons. She call herself Armance Carmouche. She was house
+servant for the family and I worked around the house. I remember my
+Madame brought me the little basket and it had a strap on it. I put the
+strap over the shoulder and went round with the sharp stick and picked
+up the leaves on the ground with the stick.
+
+"It was a great house with trees and flowers. Madame liked all clean and
+pretty. I never worked hard. The ladies and my mama, too, petted me as
+if I was the white child.
+
+"M'sieur had a widow sister. She made us learn the prayers. We were glad
+to go where she was for she always had something good in her bag for us.
+I never saw the baptizing. In those days all the slaves had the religion
+of the master and the Catholics didn't have no baptizing. They didn't
+have to half-drown when they got their religion. The church was 15 or 20
+miles off. The priest came and held Mass for the white folks sometimes.
+
+"I remember one wedding. My aunt got married. M'sieur Caramouche killed
+a big pig. The white folks ate in the house. The slaves sat under the
+trees and ate in the yard. At four o'clock the justice of the peace
+came. He was the friend of M'sieur Caramouche. He made my aunt and the
+man hold hands and jump over the broom handle. When the priest came he
+made M'sieur sign some papers.
+
+"A slave always had to ask M'sieur to marry. He always let the women
+slaves marry who they wanted. He didn't loose by that. He was so good
+the men would come to his plantation.
+
+"We all wore the long chemise. Made out of heavy cloth. They made the
+cloth on the place and the women sewed it up. We didn't wear the shoes.
+We didn't like them when we had them.
+
+"Each slave could have the little garden. They raised vegetables and had
+a couple of beehives for the honey.
+
+"When the Yankees came they told us we could be free, but I don't know
+of any slaves that left. Old M'sieur died of the fever in the second
+year of the war. His wife died before he did. No children. They sold us,
+the house and everything. M'sieur Cyprien Arceneaux of Lafayette bought
+me and Madame Arvillien Bernard of St. Pierre bought the mama. They used
+to call it St. Pierre. They call it Carenero now. When war was finished
+I left M'sieur Arceneaux and lived with mama.
+
+"A year and a half after that the mama married a black man and us three
+farmed the little farm. My steppapa didn't like me. I was light. He and
+me couldn't get along. So when I had 20 years I left there and hired
+myself out. I saved till I bought a little piece of land for myself.
+Then I married and raised the family. Me and my wife and the children
+farmed that place up to ten years ago and then she died. My son farms
+the place now and I came to Beaumont. I live with my girl.
+
+"I remember me in time of war we danced. Round dances. We sang and
+danced La Boulangere in time of war. De song go:
+
+"'La Boulangere ait ta victoire
+Et nous, qui sont en guerre,
+Voici le jour que je dois partir.
+
+"'Mon cher ami, tu pars,
+Tu me laisses un enfant dans les bras
+   et prend tes armes.
+Et moi, je vais dans le moment
+   verser des larmes.
+
+"'Quand je serai en le guerre, [Handwritten Note: � la guerre?]
+Tu serais de garnison,
+Et tu m'oublirais moi,
+Qui serai en les haillons.
+
+"'J'entends le tombour qui m'appelle
+   A les points de jour.
+Mon cher Armande, si tu m'aimes
+Tu penserais � moi, quand tu serais,
+   Dans tes plaisir.
+Moi--que serai au bout du fusil!'
+
+"I got one real scare. I was with M'sieur Arceneaux in Lafayette. There
+was the battle. Lots of fighting. Lots of killing. The Yankees came
+right inside the house. I stayed hid.
+
+"I don't know whether it's been better since the war. At all times one
+has his miseries. We managed to get along on the farm. But now I have
+nothing. Oh, I don't mean slavery was better than to be free. I mean
+times were better.
+
+"The reason I'm so light is, my mama was half-white. My papa was Neville
+Broussard and he was all white.
+
+
+
+
+420233
+
+
+[Illustration: Fannie Brown]
+
+
+     FANNIE BROWN, aged Negro of Waco, Texas, does not know her age. She
+     was born near Richmond, Virginia, a slave of the Koonce family.
+     They sold her to Mrs. Margaret Taylor, of Belton, Texas, when
+     Fannie was only five years old, and she never saw her mother again.
+
+
+"I was borned near Richmond, over in Virginy, but Massa Koonce sold me.
+When I was five year old he brung me to Belton and sold me to Missy
+Margaret Taylor, and she kep' me till she died. I was growed den and
+sold to Massa Jim Fletcher and dere I stayed till I was freed.
+
+"Dere no spring near Massa Fletcher's place and us have to git water out
+de well, what dey call de sweep well. Dey cut down a young saplin' and
+weight it on one end with rocks and tie de bucket on a rope on de other
+end and brace de pole over de well.
+
+"While de big house bein' built dey slep' in a big wagon and cook over a
+fireplace make out of rock what us niggers pick up in de woods. Us cook
+lots of good eatin' out on dat fireplace, dem wild turkeys and wild meat
+sho' tasted good.
+
+"Massa trades ten yards of red calico and two hatchets to de Indians for
+some skins and take de skins to Austin and traded dem fer de spinnin'
+wheel and loom, and hauls dem to Belton in de ox carts.
+
+"My missy larnt me to spin and weave and did dis child git many a
+whuppin' 'fore I could do it good. Den she larnt me to cook and start me
+cookin' two or three days 'fore company come. Dat when us have de good
+old pound cake. De li'l chillen stand round when I bake, so as to git to
+lick de spoons and pans, and how dey pop dere lips when dey lickin' dat
+good dough!
+
+"Massa have garden seed he brung to Texas, but he didn't think it would
+grow, so he kep' it several months, but den he plants it and up it come,
+jus' like in de old states. Us used dem tomatoes for flowers, 'cause us
+thunk dem pretty red things would kill us or put de spell on us. But de
+white folks et dem and us larn to.
+
+"I was growed and have chillen 'fore de freedom war. I never did have no
+special husban' 'fore de war. I marries after de war.
+
+"My, how dem niggers could play de fiddle back in de good old days. On
+de moonlight nights, us dance by de light of de moon under a big oak
+tree, till most time to go to work next mornin'.
+
+"De fus' barb wire us ever seen, us scairt of it. Us thunk lightnin' be
+sho' to strike it. It sho' keep de stock in, though.
+
+"I seed men ridin' hosses with dead men tied 'cross dey hoss, endurin'
+de freedom war. But I can't tell much 'bout dat war, 'cause I couldn't
+read and I never git any place 'cept home at my work. I love dem days
+better dan I do dese times now, but I'm too old to 'member much.
+
+
+
+
+420086
+
+
+[Illustration: Fred Brown]
+
+
+     FRED BROWN, 84, 1414 Jones St., Fort Worth, Texas, was born a slave
+     to Mr. John Brown, who owned a plantation along the Mississippi
+     River, in Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana. Fred was eight years old
+     when the Civil War started. During the War, he and a number of
+     other slaves were taken to Kaufman Co., Texas, as refugees, by
+     Henry Bidder, an overseer. He worked five years as a laborer after
+     he was freed, then worked as a cook until 1933.
+
+
+"Sho', I has time to talk to you 'bout my life, 'cause I can't work any
+more and I has nothin' but time. It am de rhumatis' in de leg, it ketch
+me dat way, from de hip to de knee,--zip--dat pain goes!
+
+"I's bo'n in ole Louisiana, in Baton Rouge Parish, on de 16th of
+November, in 1853. I knows, 'cause massa give dis nigger a statement.
+You see, dey don' larn de niggers to read in dem days, nor figger, but I
+can read figgers. See dem on dat car? Dat am 713. Dat am bad figgers, I
+never has any truck with sich numbers as de 7 or de 13.
+
+"Massa have quite pert a plantation in Louisiana, dis side de
+Mississippi River. De slaves him own am from 40 to 50 sometimes. In our
+family am pappy, mammy and three brudders and one sister, Julia, and six
+cousins. Dat am 13 and dat's why massa had so much trouble with niggers
+runnin' 'way!
+
+"Everyone have dere certain wo'k and duties for to do. Mammy am de
+family cook and she he'p at de loom, makin' de cloth. My daddy am de
+blacksmith and shoemaker and de tanner. I 'spains how he do tannin.' He
+puts de hides in de water with black-oak bark and purty soon de hair
+come off and den he rolls and poun's de hides for to make dem soft.
+
+"When I's 'bout 8 years old, or sich, dey starts me to he'pin' in de
+yard and as I grows older I he'ps in de fields. Massa, him raises cane
+and co'n mostly, no cotton.
+
+"De buildings on de place am de resident of de massa and de quarters for
+de niggers. Dey am built from logs and de quarters has no floors and no
+windows, jus' square holes whar de windows ought to be. Dey have bunks
+for sleepin' and a table and benches, and cooks in de fireplace.
+
+"We allus have plenty for to eat, plenty co'nmeal, 'lasses and heavy,
+brown sugar. We gits flour bread once de week, but lots of butter and
+milk. For de coffee, we roasts meal bran and for de tea, de sassafras.
+Den we has veg'tables and fruit dat am raised on de place. De meat
+mostly am de wil' game, deer and de turkey, but sometimes hawg meat.
+
+"Massa have overseer and overlooker. De overseer am in charge of wo'k
+and de overlooker am in charge of de cullud women. De overseer give all
+de whippin's. Sometimes when de nigger gits late, 'stead of comin' home
+and takin' de whippin' him goes to de caves of de river and stays and
+jus' comes in night time for food. When dey do dat, de dawgs is put
+after dem and den it am de fight 'tween de nigger and de dawg. Jus' once
+a nigger kills de dawg with de knife, dat was close to freedom and it
+come 'fore dey ketches him. When dey whips for runnin' off, de nigger am
+tied down over a barrel and whipped ha'd, till dey draws blood,
+sometimes.
+
+"Dem fool niggers what sneak off without de pass, have two things for to
+watch, one is not to be ketched by de overseer and de other am de
+patter-rollers. De nigger sho' am skeert of de patters. One time my
+pappy and my mammy goes out without de pass and de patters takes after
+dem. I'se home, 'cause I's too young to be pesterin' roun'. I sees dem
+comin,' and you couldn' catched dem with a jackrabbit. One time anoudder
+nigger am runnin' from de patters and hides under de house. Dey fin' him
+and make him come out. You's seen de dawg quaver when him's col'? Well,
+dat nigger have de quaverment jus' like dat. De patters hits him five or
+six licks and lets him go. Dat nigger have lots of power--him gits to de
+quarters ahead of his shadow.
+
+"Now, I tell 'bout some good times. We is 'lowed to have parties and de
+dance and we has for music, sich as de banjo and de jew's harp and a
+'cordian. Dey dance de promenade and de jeg. Sometimes day
+have de jiggin' contest and two niggers puts a glass of water on dere
+heads and den see who can dance de longes' without spillin' any water.
+Den we has log-rollin'. Dere was two teams, 'bout three to de team, and
+dey see which can roll de log de fastes'. Den sometimes a couple am
+'lowed to git married and dere am extry fixed for supper. De couple
+steps over de broom laid en de floor, dey's married den.
+
+"Sometimes de overlooker don' let dem git married. I 'splains it dis
+way. He am used for to father de chillun. Him picks de portly, and de
+healthy women dat am to rear de portly chillen. De overlooker, he am
+portly man. Dem dat him picks he overlooks, and not 'low dem to marry or
+to go round with other nigger men. If dey do, its whippin' sho.' De
+massa raises some fine, portly chillen, and dey sel' some, after dey's
+half-grown, for $500 and sometimes more.
+
+"De war didn' make no diff'runce, dat I notices, 'cept massa and one
+overseer jines de army. Massa come back, but de overseer am captured by
+de Yankees, so massa says, and we never hears 'bout him after dat. De
+soldiers passes by lots of times, both de 'federates and de 'blue
+bellies', but we's never bothered with dem. De fightin' was not close
+enough to make trouble. Jus' 'fore freedom come, de new overseer am
+'structed to take us to Texas and takes us to Kaufman County and we is
+refugees dere. De Yankee mans tells us we am free and can do sich as we
+pleases. Dat lef' us in charge of no one and we'uns, jus' like cattle,
+wen' wanderin'.
+
+"Pappy, him goes back to Lousiana to massa's place. Dat am de las' we
+hears from him. Mammy and I goes to Henderson and I works at dis and dat
+and cares for my mammy ten years, till she dies. Den I gits jobs as cook
+in Dallas and Houston and lots of other places.
+
+"I gits married in 1901 to Ellen Tilles and I cooks till 'bout four
+years ago, till I gits de rhumatis'. Dat's all I can tell you 'bout de
+ole days.
+
+
+
+
+420096
+
+
+[Illustration: James Brown]
+
+
+     JAMES BROWN, 84, blind for the last 12 years and now living alone
+     in a shack at 408 W. Belknap, Fort Worth, Texas, was born a slave
+     of Mr. Berney in Bell Co., Texas, in 1853. While still an infant,
+     he and his mother were sold to Mr. John Blair, who farmed four
+     miles south of Waco, Texas. JAMES has no known living relatives and
+     a pension of $14.00 a month is his sole support.
+
+
+"My fust Marster was named Marster Berney. I'se don' 'member hims fust
+name nor nothin' 'bout him. I'se don' know nothin' 'bout my pappy, but
+Marster Blair told me hims name was John Brown.
+
+"Marster Blair have hims farm four miles south of Waco. We'uns lived in
+de cabins and have de fiddle and de banjoes. We'uns sing and have music
+on Sundays. Marster never whups we'uns and him was allus good to us. Him
+gives us plenty to eat, and meat, too. Hims keeps 'bout 20 hawgs dere
+all de time. De women makes de clothes and we'uns have all we need.
+
+"De fust work I does is drivin' de Marster to town. Marster have fine
+hosses. Marster have hims office in Waco and we drive dere every day.
+I'se stays all day ready to drive him home. Mos' every day hims give me
+five cents or maybe de dime. Hims was a big law man and went to de
+legislature down in Austin. His picture am in Austin, 'cause I'se down
+dere years ago and seen his picture in a case wid Gov'ner Ross' picture.
+
+"Anudder thing dat Marster does powe'ful good am trade de niggers. He
+buys and sells 'em all de time. You see, dere was traders dat traveled
+from place to place dem days and dey takes sometimes as much as 100
+niggers for to trade. Dere was sheds outside of town, whar dey keeps de
+niggers when dey comes to town.
+
+"De Marster and de trader talks dis away: 'How you trade?' 'I'se gives
+you even trade.' 'No, I'se wants $25.00 for de diff'runce.' 'I'se gives
+you $5.00.' Dat's de way dey talks on and on. Maybe dey makes de trade
+and maybe dey don'.
+
+"Dey have auction sometime and Marster allus tend 'em. At de auction
+I'se seen dem sell a family. Maybe one man buy de mammy, anudder buy de
+pappy and anudder buy all de chillens or maybe jus' one, like dat. I'se
+see dem cry like dey at de funeral when dey am parted. Dey has to drag
+'em away.
+
+"When de auction begin, he says: 'Dis nigger is so and so ole, he never
+'bused, he soun' as a dollar. Jus' look at de muscle and de big
+shoulders. He's worth a thousan' of any man's money. How much am I
+offered?' Den de biddin' starts. It goes like dis: '$200 I'se hear, does
+I'se hear $250, does I hear $300.' Den de nigger takes hims clothes--dey
+have one extry suit--and goes wid de man dat buys him.
+
+"De day befo' Marster gives we'uns freedom, he says to we'uns, 'I'se
+wants all you niggers to come to de front of de house Sunday mornin!'
+We'uns was dere and he was standin' on de gallery, holdin' a paper in
+hims han' and readin'. Dere was tears in hims eyes and some drap on de
+paper. I'se have tears in my eyes, too; mos' of 'em have. When hims done
+readin', hims says: 'You darkies is as free as I'se is. You can go or
+you can stay. Those dat stay till de crops laid by, I'se will give $5.00
+a month.'
+
+"Den he takes de little niggers and says, 'De little fellows who I'se
+have sold dere mammies will stay wid me till dey am 21 years ole. You
+little fellows, I'se know you's age and I'se give yous de statement.'
+
+"Mos' of de niggers stays wid him, but dey lef' fust one and den tudder.
+I'se stays on wid him for many years and works as coachman. When I lef'
+de Marster, 'twas to work for a farmer for one year, den I'se comes to
+Fort Worth. I'se works in lumberya'd for long time.
+
+"For de las' 12 years I'se been blin'. I'se had hard time after dat till
+de las' year but I'se gits de pension each month, dat am a heap of help.
+Dis nigger am thankful for what de Lawd have blessed me wid.
+
+
+
+
+420104
+
+
+[Illustration: Josie Brown]
+
+
+     JOSIE BROWN was born about 1859, in Victoria, Texas. She belonged
+     to George Heard. Her mother was born free, a member of the Choctaw
+     Nation, but she was stolen and sold as a slave. Josie now lives in
+     Woodville, Texas.
+
+
+"I's bo'n on Christmas day, in Victoria. Got here jus' in time for de
+eggnog! Dat 'bout 1859, 'cause I's six year ole de Christmas 'fore
+freedom. My mudder was a free bo'n Injun woman. Jus' like any ole,
+demmed Choctaw down in de woods. She was stole and sol' by a
+spec'lator's gang. Us move to Tyler when I one mont' ole.
+
+"We lib on a big farm and my mudder suckle her thirteen chillun and ole
+mistus seven. Bob, my brudder, he go to Mansfiel' and we never hear of
+him no more. He wen' with young marster, Wesley Heard. I 'member de
+mornin' dey lef', dey had to wait for him, 'cause he'd been out seein'
+his gal.
+
+"De marstar hab a big log house close to de road. De quarters was
+'cordin' to de family what live dere. De stage line through Woodville
+pass close by. I 'member sittin' on de rail fence to see de stage go by.
+Dat was a fine sight! De stage was big, rough carriage and dey was four
+or five hosses on de line. De bugle blow when dey go by, with de dus'
+behin' dem. Dey was comin' from Jasper, in Louisian', and everywhere.
+
+"When us little dey hab to keep us in de house 'cause de bald eagle pick
+up chillen jus' like de hawk pick up chicken. Dey was lots of catamoun'
+and bears and deer in de woods. Us never 'llowed play 'lone in de
+woods.
+
+"I didn' do nothin' 'cep' eat and sleep and foller ole mistus 'round.
+She giv me good clothes 'cause my mudder was de weaver. De clothes jus'
+cut out straight down and dyed with all kinds of bark. I hab to keep de
+head comb and grease with lard. De lil' white chillun play with me but
+not de udder nigger chilluns much. Us pull de long, leaf grass and plait
+it and us make rag doll and playhouse and grapevine swing. Dere's plenty
+grapes, scudlong, sour blue grape and sweet, white grape. Dey make jelly
+and wine outta dem. Dey squeeze de grapes and put de juice in a
+jimmijohn(demijohn) to fo'men'.
+
+"My mudder name was Keyia. Dat Injun. Daddy's name was Reuben. I 'member
+when I's lil' us goes visit my uncle, Major Scott. He lib in Polk County
+and he wore earring in he ears and beads and everyt'ing. He's a Injun.
+He dead now, many year.
+
+"My daddy work in de fiel'. He sow de rice and raise t'baccy. Dey have
+fiel's of it. Dey put it in de crack of de fence to press, den dey dry
+it on de barn roof. Dat was smokin' t'baccy! For de chewin' t'baccy, dey
+soak it in sugar and honey. Us never see snuff den.
+
+"On Sunday us didn' work. We has chu'ch meetin'. But dey has to have it
+in de ya'd, so de white folks could see de kin' of religion 'spounded.
+
+"I seed some bad sight in slavery, but ain' never been 'bused myself. I
+seed chillun too lil' to walk from dey mammies sol' right off de block
+in Woodville. Dey was sol' jus' like calfs. I seed niggers in han'
+locks.
+
+"After freedom dey wuk a whole year and den Major Sangers, he finally
+come and make de white folks tu'n us loose. I stay on for years, 'till
+ole mistus die. She larn me to knit and spin and sich like.
+
+"In de early day, us hab to be keerful. Dey say witches ride dey hosses
+on de da'k nights. Us allus put hossshoes over de door to keep de witch
+out. Iffen us go out at night, us go roun' de house three time so de
+witch not come in while us gone.
+
+"I's fifteen year ole when I marry. Giles Paul was from de Wes'. He was
+de fus' husban'. Us hab a real weddin' with a bride veil. My weddin'
+dress hang 'way back on de flo', and shine like silver. Dey hab big
+dance and eat supper.
+
+"My second husban' name' Robert Brown and I's mudder of ten chillun.
+'Sides dat, I raises six or seven day I pick up on de street 'cause dey
+orfums and hab nobody to care for dem. Some dem chillun drif' 'bout now
+and I wouldn' know 'em if I seed 'em!
+
+
+
+
+420211
+
+
+[Illustration: Zek Brown]
+
+
+     ZEK BROWN, 80, was born a slave of Green Brown, owner of six slave
+     families, in Warren County, Tennessee. Zek came to Texas in 1868,
+     with Sam Bragg. Zek now lives at 407 W. Bluff St., in Fort Worth,
+     Texas.
+
+
+"My name am Zek Brown and Massa Green Brown owned me. He have a
+plantation in Tennessee and own all my folks, what was my pappy and
+mammy and two sisters. I never seed any of dem since I ran 'way from
+there, when I's ten years old.
+
+"I sometimes wishes I's back on de plantation. I's took good care of
+dere and massa am awful good. Each fam'ly have dere own cabin and it
+warn't so much for niceness but we lives comfor'ble and has plenty to
+eat and wear. My mammy work de loom, makin' cloth, and us chillen wears
+linsey cloth shirts till dey gives us pants. Massa buy he fam'ly nice
+clothes but dey wears linsey clothes everyday. Same with shoes, dey am
+made on de plantation and de first store shoes I has am after surrender.
+My mammy buys me a pair with brass tips on de toe, and am I dress up
+den!
+
+"De food am bester dan what I's had since dem days. Dey raises it all
+but de salt and sich. You wouldn't 'lieve how us et den. It am ham and
+bacon, 'cause dey raises all de hawgs. It am cornmeal and some white
+flour and fruit and honey and 'lasses and brown sugar. De 'lasses am
+black as I is and dat am some black. I wishes I was dere and mammy call
+me, and I can smell dat ham fryin' right now.
+
+"Not once does I know of de massa whippin' and him don't talk rough
+even. Jus' so de work am done we does as we pleases, long as us
+reas'ble. Us have parties and dancin' and singin'. De music am de banjo
+and de fiddle.
+
+"I don't 'member when de war start but I 'member when it stop and massa
+call all us together and tell us we's no more slaves. Him talk lots
+'bout what it mean and how it am diff'rent and we'uns have to make our
+own way and can't 'pend on him like. He say if us stay dere'll be wages
+or we can share crop and everybody stay. My folks stays one year and den
+moves to 'nother he farms. Pappy keep de farm and mammy teach school.
+Her missie done larnt her to read and sich from time she a young'un, so
+she have eddication so good dey puts her to teachin'.
+
+"De way I leaves home am dis. One day mammy teachin' school and me and
+my sister am home, and I 'cides she need de haircut. She want it, too.
+So I gits de shears and goes to work and after I works a while de job
+don't look so good, so I cuts some more and den it look worse and I
+tries to fix it and first thing I knows dere ain't no hair left to cut.
+When mammy come home she pays me for de work with de rawhide whip and
+dat hurts my feelin's so bad I 'cides to git even by runnin' 'way a few
+days. It am 'bout sundown and I starts to go and comes to Massa Sam
+Bragg's place. I's tired den and not so strong 'bout de idea and 'cides
+to rest. I walks into he yard and dere am a covered wagon standin' and
+loaded with lots of stuff and de front end open. I finds de soft place
+in de back and goes to sleep, and when I wakes up it am jus' gittin'
+daylight and dat wagon am a-movin'.'
+
+"I don't say nothin'. I's skeert and waits for dat wagon to stop, so's I
+can crawl out. I jus' sits and sits and when it stop I crawls out and
+Massa Bragg say, 'Good gosh, look what am crawlin' out de wagon! He look
+at me a while and den he say, 'You's too far from home for me to take
+you back and you'll git lost if you tries to walk home. I guesses I'll
+have to take you with me.' I thinks him am goin' some place and comin'
+back, but it am to Texas him come and stop at Birdville. Dat am how dis
+nigger come to Texas.
+
+"I's often wish my mammy done whip me so hard I couldn't walk off de
+place, 'cause from den on I has mighty hard times. I stays with Massa
+Bragg four years and then I hunts for a job where I can git some wages.
+I gits it with Massa Joe Henderson, workin' on he farm and I's been
+round these parts ever since and farmed most my life.
+
+"I gits into a picklement once years ago. I's 'rested on de street. I's
+not done a thing, jus' walkin' 'long de street with 'nother fellow and
+dey claim he stole somethin'. I didn't know nothin' 'bout since. Did dey
+turn me a-loose? Dey turn me loose after six months on de chain gang. I
+works on de road three months with a ball and chain on de legs. After
+dat trouble, I sho' picks my comp'ny.
+
+"I marries onct, 'bout forty years ago, and after four years she drops
+dead with de heart mis'ry. Us have no chillen so I's alone in de world.
+It am all right long as I could work, but five years ago dis right arm
+gits to shakin' so bad I can' work no more. For a year now dey pays me
+$9.00 pension. It am hard to live on dat for a whole month, but I's glad
+to git it.
+
+
+
+
+4210129
+
+
+     MADISON BRUIN, 92, spent his early days as a slave on the Curtis
+     farm in the blue grass region of Kentucky, where he had some
+     experience with some of the fine horses for which the state is
+     famous. Here, too, he had certain contacts with soldiers of John
+     Morgan, of Confederate fame. His eyes are keen and his voice mellow
+     and low. His years have not taken a heavy toll of his vitality.
+
+
+"I's a old Kentucky man. I's born in Fayette County, 'bout five miles
+from Lexington, right where dere lots of fine hosses. My old massa was
+name Jack Curtis and de old missus was Miss Addie. My mother name Mary
+and she die in 1863 and never did see freedom. I don't 'member my daddy
+a-tall.
+
+"De place was jis' a farm, 'cause dey didn't know nothin' 'bout
+plantations up dere in Kentucky. Dey raise corn and wheat and garlic and
+fast hosses. Dey used to have big hoss races and dey had big tracks and
+I's stood in de middle of dat big track in Lexington and watch dem
+ex'cise de hosses. Sometimes I got to help dem groom some dem grand
+hosses and dat was de big day for me. I don't 'member dem hosses names,
+no, suh, but I knowed one big bay hoss what won de race nearly every
+time.
+
+"I had two sisters name Jeanette and Fanny and a brother, Henry, and
+after my daddy die, my mother marries a man name Paris and I had one
+half-brother call Alfred Paris.
+
+"Old massa was good to us and give us plenty food. He never beat us
+hard. He had a son what jis' one month older'n me and we run 'round and
+play lots. Old massa, he whip me and he own son jis' de same when we
+bad. He didn't whip us no more'n he ought to, though. Dey was good
+massas and some mean ones, and some worthless cullud folks, too.
+
+"Durin' de war de cholera broke out 'mongst de people and everybody
+scairt dey gwine cotch it. Dey say it start with de hurtin' in de
+stomach and every time us hurt in de stomach, missus make us come quick
+to de big house. Dat suit us jis' right and when dey sends Will and me
+to hoe or do somethin' us didn't want to do, pretty soon I say, 'Willie,
+I think my stomach 'ginnin to hurt. I think dis mis'ry a sign I gittin'
+de cholera.' Den him say, 'Us better go to de big house like ma say,'
+and with dat, us quit workin'. Us git out lots of work dat way, but us
+ain't ever took de cholera yit.
+
+"Durin' de war John Morgan's men come and took all de hosses. Dey left
+two and Willie and me took dem to hide in de plum thicket, but us jis'
+git out de gate when de sojers come 'gain and dey head us off and take
+de last two hosses.
+
+"My mother she wore de Yankee flag under her dress like a petticoat when
+de 'federates come raidin'. Other times she wore it top de dress. When
+dey hears de 'federates comin' de white folks makes us bury all de gold
+and de silver spoons out in de garden. Old massa, he in de Yankee army,
+'cause dey 'script him, but he sons, John and Joe, dey volunteers.
+
+"Old massa he never sold none of he slaves. I used to hear him and
+missus fussin' 'bout de niggers, 'cause some 'long to her and some to
+him and dey have de time keepin' dem straighten' out.
+
+Us boys have good time playin'. Us draw de line and some git on one side
+and some de other. Den one sing out
+
+"'Chickama, Chickama, craney crow,
+  Went to de well to wash my toe;
+  When I git back my chicken was gone,
+      What time, old witch?'
+
+"Den somebody holler out, 'One o'clock' or 'Two o'clock' or any time,
+and dem on one side try to cotch dem on de other side.
+
+"When I's young I didn't mind plowin', but I didn't like to ride at
+fust, but dey make me larn anyhow. Course, dat white boy and me, us like
+most anything what not too much work. Us go down to de watermelon patch
+and plug dem melons, den us run hide in de woods and eat watermelon.
+Course, dey lots of time dey 'low us to play jis' by ourselves. Us play
+one game where us choose sides and den sing:
+
+"'Can, can, candio,
+  Old man Dandio,
+  How many men you got?
+  More'n you're able to cotch.'
+
+"Endurin' de war us git whip many a time for playin' with shells what us
+find in de woods. Us heered de cannons shootin' in Lexington and lots of
+dem shells drap in de woods.
+
+"What did I think when I seed all dem sojers? I wants to be one, too. I
+didn't care what side, I jis' wants a gun and a hoss and be a sojer.
+John Morgan, he used to own de hemp factory in Lexington. When young
+massa jine Woolford's 11th Kentucky Cavalry, dey come to de place and
+halt befo' de big house in de turnpike. Dey have shotguns and blind
+bridles on dere hosses, not open bridle like on de race hosses. Dey jis'
+in reg'lar clothes but next time dey come through dey in blue uniforms.
+All my white folks come back from de war and didn't git kilt. Nobody
+ever telt me I's free. I's happy dere and never left dem till 1872. All
+de others gone befo' dat, but I gits all I wants and I didn't need no
+money. I didn't know what paper money was and one time massa's son give
+me a paper dime to git some squab and I didn't know what money was and I
+burned it up.
+
+"Dey's jis' one thing I like to do most and dat's eat. Dey allus had
+plenty of everything and dey had a big, wooden tray, or trough and dey
+put potlicker and cornbread in dat trough and set it under de big locust
+tree and all us li'l niggers jis' set 'round and eat and eat. Jis' eat
+all us wants. Den when us git full us fall over and go to sleep. Us jis'
+git fat and lazy. When us see dat bowl comin', dat bowl call us jis'
+like hawgs runnin' to de trough.
+
+"Dey was great on gingerbread and us go for dat. Dey couldn't leave it
+in de kitchen or de pantry so old missus git a big tin box and hide de
+gingerbread under her bed and kept de switch on us to keep us 'way from
+it. But sometime us sneak up in de bedroom and git some, even den.
+
+"When I 'bout 17 I left Kentucky and goes to Indiana and white folks
+sends me to school to larn readin' and writin', but I got tired of dat
+and run off and jine de army. Dat in 1876 and dey sends me to Arizona.
+After dat I's at Fort Sill in what used to be Indian Territory and den
+at Fort Clark and Fort Davis, dat in Garfield's 'ministration, den in
+Fort Quitman on de Rio Grande. I's in skirmishes with de Indians on
+Devil's River and in de Brazos Canyon, and in de Rattlesnake Range and
+in de Guadalupe Mountains. De troops was de Eighth Cavalry and de Tenth
+Infantry. De white and de cullud folks was altogether and I have three
+hosses in de cavalry. De fust one plays out, de next one shot down on
+campaign and one was condemn. On dat campaign us have de White Mountain
+'paches with us for scouts.
+
+"When I git discharge' from de Army I come to Texas and work on de S.P.
+Railroad and I been in Texas ever since, and when I's in Dallas I got
+'flicted and got de pension 'cause I been in de army. I ain't done much
+work in ten year.
+
+"I gits married in San Antonio on December 14, 1882 and I marries Dolly
+Gross and dat her right dere. Us have de nice weddin', plenty to eat and
+drink. Us have only one chile, a gal, and she dead, but us 'dopt sev'ral
+chillen.
+
+"Us come to Beaumont in 1903 and I works 'round Spindletop and I works
+for de gas people and de waterworks people. I's been a carpenter and
+done lots of common work wherever I could find it.
+
+"It's been long time since slavery and I's old, but me and my old lady's
+in good health and us manage to git 'long fairly well. Dat's 'bout all I
+can 'member 'bout de old times.
+
+
+
+
+420236
+
+
+[Illustration: Martha Spence Bunton]
+
+
+     MARTHA SPENCE BUNTON, 81, was born a slave, Jan. 1, 1856, on the
+     John Bell plantation, in Murphfreesboro, Tennessee. Mr. Bell sold
+     Martha, her mother and four sisters to Joseph Spence, who brought
+     them to Texas. Martha married Andy Bunton in 1880, and they had
+     nine children. Martha now lives with her sister, Susan, on twelve
+     acres of land which their father bought for $25.00 an acre. The
+     farm is picturesquely located on a thickly wooded hill about six
+     miles east of Austin, Texas.
+
+
+"I was born on New Year's Day. Yes, suh, in 1856, on Massa Bell's
+plantation over in Tennessee. De name of de town was Murphreesboro, and
+my mammy and my four sisters and me all 'longed to Massa John Bell, but
+he done sold us to Massa Joseph Spence, and dat how I come by my name.
+
+"I 'members how Massa Spence brung us to Texas in wagons, and the way we
+knowed when we hit Texas am 'cause massa 'gin to talk 'bout a norther.
+When dat norther done strike, all de weeds and leaves jus' starts
+rollin'. Us poor, ig'rant niggers thunk at first dey was rabbits, 'cause
+we'd never seed a rabbit den. Massa Spence rid his hoss and Missie
+Spence come 'long in de richer way, in a coach. De chillen walked
+mornin's and de older folks walked afternoons.
+
+"Massa Spence come to Montopolis, right nigh to Austin, and settled
+down. I helped carry dinner pails to de field workers, and dey was full
+of meat and cabbage and biscuit. Pappy wasn't dere then, 'cause he was
+own by Massa Burrows, over in Tennessee. But when his massa died, my
+massa bought pappy and he come out to Texas. Befo' I's a sizeable child,
+mammy took sick with diphtheria and died and pappy had to be mammy and
+pappy to us. Pappy was a big-bodied man and on Sunday mornin' he'd git
+out of bed and make a big fire and say, 'Jiminy cripes! You chillen stay
+in you beds and I'll make de biscuits.' He would, too. I laughs when I
+thinks 'bout dem big, rye biscuits, what was so big we called dem
+'Nigger heels.' Dey sho' was big biscuits, but dey was good. We never
+did git no butter, though, and sometimes we'd ask the white chillen to
+give us a piece of biscuit with butter on it. We got plenty other
+eats--sliced meat and roastin' ears and sweet milk.
+
+"After freedom pappy sent us to school to de white teacher, and dat's
+why I can read and write. I went to de sixth grade and quit. Pappy was
+drinkin' a lot then. He'd take alcohol and mix it with 'lasses and
+water. But he was good to us. Sometimes a Texas norther come up and we'd
+be on the way home and we'd see something comin' what look like a
+elephant and it was pappy, with a bundle of coats.
+
+"I was twenty-four years old when I married Andy Bunton and he jes'
+rented farms here and yonder. We had a big weddin' and pork and turkey
+and cake. Aunt Lucy Hubbard, what weighed three hundred pounds, done de
+cookin' dat day. We had such a good time nobody knowed when one de
+guests stole a whole turkey.
+
+"I was mother of nine chillen and three of dem is livin' now. Andy made
+a purty good livin till he had a paral'sis stroke. Poor old feller! In
+de end, I took care of him and had to work like I was young again. I cut
+wood and carried water and washed and cooked. I had to feed him.
+
+"I owns my place here. It am twelve acres and pappy bought it long ago
+for $25.00 de acre. My sister lives here too, and my son, Howard, comes
+home sometimes, but he's got eight houn' dogs he can't feed. I sho'
+can't feed dem on dat $11.00 pension what I gits.
+
+
+
+
+420080
+
+
+[Illustration: Ellen Butler]
+
+
+     ELLEN BUTLER was born a slave to Richmond Butler, near Whiska
+     Chitto, in the northern part of Calcasieu Parish (now a part of
+     Beauregard Parish), in Louisiana. Ellen is about 78 years old. She
+     now lives in Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"My old massa was name Richmond Butler and he used to have a big
+plantation over on Whiska Chitto, in Louisiana, and that's where I was
+born. They used to call the place Bagdad. I was his slave till I six
+year old and then freedom come.
+
+"I don't 'member my daddy, but my mammy was name Dicey Ann Butler. I
+have seven sister and three brudder, and they was Anderson and Charlie
+and Willie, and the girls was Laura and Rosa and Rachel and Fannie and
+Adeline and Sottie and Nora.
+
+"Us used to live in a li'l log house with one room. The floor was dirt
+and the house was make jus' like they used to make 'tater house. They
+was a little window in the back. When I was a baby they wrop me up in
+cotton and put me in a coffee pot--that how li'l I was. But I grows to
+be more sizable.
+
+"The plantation were a good, big place and they have 'bout 200 head of
+niggers. When I gets big enough they start me to totin' water to the
+field. I gits the water out the spring and totes it in gourds. They cut
+the gourds so that a strip was left round and cross the top and that the
+handle. They was about a foot 'cross and a foot deep. Us used to have
+one good gourd us kep' lard in and li'l gourds to drink out of.
+
+"Massa never 'lowed us slaves go to church but they have big holes in
+the fields they gits down in and prays. They done that way 'cause the
+white folks didn't want them to pray. They used to pray for freedom.
+
+"When the white folks go off they writes on the meal and flour with they
+fingers. That the way they know if us steal meal. Sometime they take a
+stick and write in front of the door so if anybody go out they step on
+that writin' and the massa know. That the way us larn how to write.
+
+"Old massa didn't give 'em much to eat. When they comes in out of the
+field they goes work for other folks for something to eat.
+
+"They jus' have a old frame with planks to sleep on and no mattress or
+nothin'. In winter they have to keep the fire goin' all night to keep
+from freezin'. They put a old quilt down on the floor for the li'l
+folks. They have a li'l trough us used to eat out of with a li'l wooden
+paddle. Us didn't know nothin' 'bout knives and forks.
+
+"I never did git nothin' much to eat. My sister she de cook and sometime
+when the white folks gone us go up to the big house and she give us
+somethin'. But she make us wash the mouth after us finish eatin', so
+they won't be no crumbs in our mouth.
+
+"Massa used to beat 'em all the time. My brudder tell old massa sometime
+he git hongry and gwine have to come ask de niggers for somethin' to
+eat. He say he never do that, but he did, 'cause after freedom he go to
+West Texas and some niggers with him and he los' everything and, sho'
+'nough, old massa have to go to my brudder and ask him for food and a
+shelter to sleep under. Then he say if he had it to do over, he
+wouldn't treat the hands so bad.
+
+"One time my brudder slip off de plantation and they almost beat him to
+death. He told 'em he had to do somethin' to git somethin' to eat. They
+used to put 'em 'cross a log or barrel to beat 'em. My mammy had a strop
+'bout eight inch wide they used to beat 'em with.
+
+"Most clothes what we git is from the Iles, what was rich folks and
+lives close by. They folks lives in DeRidder, in Louisiana, I hears.
+They treated the slaves like white folks.
+
+"On Christmas time they give us a meal. I 'member that. I don't 'member
+no other holidays.
+
+"When us git sick us go to the woods and git herbs and roots and make
+tea and medicine. We used to git Blackhaw root and cherry bark and
+dogwood and chinquapin bark, what make good tonic. Black snakeroot and
+swamproot make good medicine, too.
+
+"My mammy told us we was free and we starts right off and walks to
+Sugartown, 'bout 8 mile away. I 'member my brudder wades 'cross a pool
+totin' me.
+
+"I used to nuss Dr. Frasier. He used to be the high sheriff in
+DeRidder.
+
+
+
+
+420182
+
+
+     HENRY H. BUTTLER, 87, venerable graduate of Washburn College,
+     Topeka, Kansas, and ex-school teacher, was born a slave to Mr.
+     George Sullivan on his 300 acre plantation in Farquier Co.,
+     Virginia. Henry and a number of other slaves were transported to
+     Arkansas in 1863, and Henry escaped and joined the Union Army. He
+     now lives at 1308 E. Bessie St., Fort Worth, Texas.
+
+
+"My name is Henry H. Buttler and I am past 87 years of age. That figure
+may not be accurate, but you must realize that there were no authentic
+records made of slave births. I estimate my age on the work I was doing
+at the commencement of the Civil War and the fact that I was large
+enough to be accepted as a soldier in the Union Army, in the year of
+1864.
+
+"I was born on the plantation of George Sullivan, in Farquier Co.,
+Virginia. The plantation was situated in the valley at the base of Bull
+Mountain, and presented a beautiful picture. The plantation consisted of
+about 30 acres, with about 30 slaves, though this number varied and
+sometimes reached 50. Mr. Sullivan owned my mother and her children, but
+my father was owned by Mr. John Rector, whose place was adjacent to
+ours.
+
+"The slave quarters consisted of a group of one-room log cabins, with no
+flooring, and very crude furnishings. There were bunks and benches and a
+table and the fireplace provided the means for cooking and heating.
+
+"The food was wholesome and of sufficient quantity. In that period about
+all the food was produced and processed on the plantation, which
+eliminated any reason for failure to provide ample food. The meat was
+home cured and the ham and bacon had a superior flavor.
+
+"On the Sullivan place there existed consideration for human feelings
+but on the Rector place neither the master nor the overseer seemed to
+understand that slaves were human beings. One old slave called Jim, on
+the Rector place, disobeyed some rule and early one morning they ordered
+him to strip. They tied him to the whipping post and from morning until
+noon, at intervals, the lash was applied to his back. I, myself, saw and
+heard many of the lashes and his cries for mercy.
+
+"One morning a number of slaves were ordered to lay a fence row on the
+Rector place. The overseer said, 'This row must be laid to the Branch
+and left in time to roll those logs out in the back woods.' It was
+sundown when we laid the last rail but the overseer put us to rolling
+logs without any supper and it was eleven when we completed the task.
+Old Pete, the ox driver, became so exhausted that he fell asleep without
+unyoking the oxen. For that, he was given 100 lashes.
+
+"The slaves were allowed to marry but were compelled to first obtain
+permission from the master. The main factor involved in securing the
+master's consent was his desire to rear negroes with perfect physiques.
+On neither plantation was there any thought or compassion when a sale or
+trade was in question. I have seen the separation of husband and wife,
+child and mother, and the extreme grief of those involved, and the lash
+administered to a grieving slave for neglecting their work. All this
+made the marriages a farce.
+
+"In 1863 Mr. Sullivan transported about 40 of us slaves to Arkansas,
+locating us on a farm near Pine Bluff, so we would not be taken by the
+Federal soldiers. The general faithfulness of the slave was noticeable
+then, as they had a chance to desert and go to free states. But I think
+I was the only one who deserted Mr. Sullivan. I went to Federal
+Headquarters at Fort Smith, Arkansas, and was received into the army. We
+campaigned in Arkansas and nearby territory. The major battle I fought
+in was that of Pine Bluff, which lasted one day and part of one night.
+
+"After I was mustered out of the army, I set out to get an education and
+entered a grade school at Pine Bluff. I worked after school at any job I
+could secure and managed to enter Washburn College, in Topeka, Kansas.
+After I graduated I followed steam engineering for four years, but later
+I went to Fort Worth and spent 22 years in educational work among my
+people. I exerted my best efforts to advance my race.
+
+"I married Lucia Brown in 1880 and we had three children, all of whom
+are dead. There is just my wife and me left of the family, and we have a
+$75.00 per month Union soldier's pension.
+
+
+
+
+420283
+
+
+     WILLIAM BYRD, 97, was born a slave of Sam Byrd, near Madisonville,
+     Texas. William was with his master during the Civil War. The old
+     Negro is very feeble, but enjoyed talking about old times. He lives
+     in Madisonville.
+
+
+"I has a bill of sale what say I's born in 1840, so I knows I's
+ninety-seven years old, and I's owned by Marse Sam Byrd. My mother's
+name was Fannie and I dunno pappy's name, 'cause my mother allus say she
+found me a stray in the woods. I allus 'lieves my master was my pappy,
+but I never did know for sho'.
+
+"Our quarters was log and the bed built with poles stuck in the cracks
+and cowhide stretched over, and we'd gather moss 'bout once a month and
+make it soft. When it was real cold we'd git close together and I don't
+care how cold it got, we'd sleep jes' as warm as these here feather
+beds.
+
+"I split rails and chopped cotton and plowed with a wooden plow and druv
+Marse Byrd lots, 'cause he was a trader, slave trade most the time. He
+was good to us and give us lots to eat. He had a big garden and plenty
+sugar cane, and brown sugar. We'd press the juice out the cane 'tween
+two logs and cook it in the big washpot.
+
+"We had sheepskin clothes in cold weather, with the fur part inside, no
+shoes less'n we wropped our feet in fur hides. But them clothes was
+warmer than these here cotton overalls. They're plumb cold!
+
+Marse Sam was full of life and Missus Josie was real good. They had a
+nice home of that day, made out split logs and four rooms and a hall two
+ways through it.
+
+"That great iron piece hung jes' outside the door and Marse Sam hit it
+at 3:30 every mornin'. If we didn't muster out he come round with that
+cat-o-nine-tails and let us have it, and we knowed what that bell was
+for nex' mornin'. Sometimes when Marse Sam was gone, we'd have a
+overseer. He'd let us go swimmin' in the creek when the work was done.
+
+"If a nigger was mean Marse Sam give him fifty licks over a log the
+first time and seventy-five licks the second time and 'bout that time he
+most gen'rally had a good nigger. If they was real mean and he couldn't
+do nothin' with 'em, he put them in the jail with a chain on the feets
+for three days, and fed 'em through a crack in the wall.
+
+"On Christmas Marse Sam had a great big eggnog and kilt a big beef and
+had fireworks, and the nigger, he know Christmas was come. We had plenty
+to eat and eggnog and did 'bout what we pleased that day and New Year's.
+The white folks allus said what we'd do on them days we'd do all year.
+That's all foolishment, but some still believes in it.
+
+"They give a big dance and all night supper when war started. Then Marse
+Sam, he carries me for waterboy and cook and to tend his hosses. He had
+two, and rid one this day and the other nex' day. He was 'fraid one git
+kilt and then he wouldn't be slam a-foot.
+
+"When them big guns went to poppin', I jes' couldn't stand it without
+gittin' in a brush top. Then marse goes and gits shot and I has to be
+his nuss. But, Lawd-a-me, one them Yankee gals, she falls in love with
+marse whilst he lays nearly dead, and she say, 'William, he's mine, so
+you got to take good care of him.' And him with a plumb good wife back
+home!
+
+"When Marse Sam git well, he say he's goin' to 'nother place to fight.
+He was with General Lee when that old war was over and that there Yankee
+General Grant takes General Lee prisoner, and Marse Sam won't leave his
+general, and he say to me, 'William, you got to go home alone.'
+
+"I lights out a-foot to Texas and it's most a year befo' I gits home. I
+travels day and night at first. I buys some things to eat but every time
+I goes by a farmhouse I steals a chicken. Sometimes I sho' gits hongry.
+When I git to the house, Missus Josie faints, 'cause she thunk Marse Sam
+ain't with me and he mus' be dead. I tells her he's in prison and she
+say she'll give me $2.00 a month to stay till he gits back. I's plumb
+crazy 'bout a little gal called 'Cricket,' 'cause she so pert and full
+of live, so I stays. We gits us a cabin and that's all to our weddin'.
+We stays a year befo' Marse Sam comes back.
+
+"He was the plumb awfulest sight you ever done seed! His clothes is tore
+offen his body and he ain't shaved in three months and he's mos' starved
+to death. Missus Josie she don't even rec'nize him and wouldn't 'low him
+in till I tells her dat am Marse Sam, all right. He stays sick a whole
+year.
+
+"I thinks if them Yankees didn't 'tend to fix some way for us pore
+niggers, dey oughtn't turn us a-loose. Iffen de white folks in de South
+hadn't been jes' what they is, us niggers been lots worser off than we
+was. In slavery time when the nigger am sick, his master pay de bills,
+but when nigger sick now, that's his own lookout.
+
+"I never done nothin' but farm and odd jobs. I been married five times,
+but only my las' wife am livin' now. My four boys and two gals is all
+farmin' right here in the county and they helps us out. We gits by
+somehow.
+
+
+
+
+420277
+
+
+     LOUIS CAIN, 88, was born in North Carolina, a slave of Samuel Cain.
+     After Louis was freed, he came to Texas, and has farmed near
+     Madisonville over sixty years.
+
+
+"I knows I's birthed in 1849, 'cause I had a bill of sale. It say that.
+My master traded me to Massa Joe Cutt for a hundred acres of land.
+That's in 1861, and I 'members it well. My daddy was Sam Cain, name
+after old Massa Cain, and mammy was Josie Jones, 'cause she owned by
+'nother master. Mammy was birthed in North Carolina, but daddy allus say
+he come from Africy. He say they didn't work hard over there, 'cause all
+they et come out the jungle, and they had all the wives they wanted.
+That was the 'ligion over there.
+
+"Our quarters was made of logs, in a long shed six rooms long, like
+cowsheds or chicken houses, and one door to each room. The bed was a
+hole dug in a corner and poles around and shucks and straw. We'd sleep
+warm all night long, but it wouldn't do in this country in summertime.
+
+"Massa give us plenty to eat. Our cornbread was what you calls water
+pone bread and cooked in the ashes. We didn't have no stove. Massa was a
+great hunter and allus had venison and game. They was plenty fish, too.
+
+"Massa Cain was purty good to his slaves and mean to them if they didn't
+behave. Missy was a good woman. They lived in a two-story rock house
+with plenty trees all 'round.
+
+"We worked long as we could see, from four o'clock in the mornin', and
+them milked twenty cows and fed the work stock. They was fifty acres and
+not 'nough niggers to work it easy.
+
+"If some niggers was mean they'd git it. Massa tied they hands to they
+feet and tied them to a tree and hit 'bout twenty-five or fifty licks
+with a rawhide belt. Hide and blood flew then. Next mornin' he'd turn
+them loose and they'd have to work all day without nothin' to eat. He
+had a cabin called jail for the nigger women, and chain them in with
+cornbread and one glass of water.
+
+"One nigger run to the woods to be a jungle nigger, but massa cotched
+him with the dogs and took a hot iron and brands him. Then he put a bell
+on him, in a wooden frame what slip over the shoulders and under the
+arms. He made that nigger wear the bell a year and took it off on
+Christmas for a present to him. It sho' did make a good nigger out of
+him.
+
+"In the summer time they had camp meetin' and baptized in the creek,
+white folks first while the old nigger mammies shouts, and then the
+niggers.
+
+"On Saturday mornin' us men grated corn for bread the next week and the
+women washed massa's clothes and our'n. On Saturday night we'd have a
+dance all night long, and Sunday the men went to see they wives or
+sweethearts and us young'uns went swimmin' in the creek. Every night but
+Saturday we had to go to bed at nine o'clock. Massa hit the big steel
+piece and we knowed it was time to put out the torches and pile in.
+
+"On Christmas I'd stand by the gate, to open it for the company, and
+they'd throw nuts and candy to me. That night all the slaves what could
+brung they banjoes and fiddles and played for the white folks to dance
+all night. Them great old days are done gone. Most the men be full that
+good, old eggnog.
+
+"After war come they ain't no more dances and fun, and not much to eat
+or nothin'. Massa git kilt in a big battle and missy took four slaves
+and brung him home and buried him under a big shade tree in the yard.
+That the saddes' time I ever seen, nobody there to do anythin' but missy
+and neighbor women and some real young niggers like me. She was cryin'
+and all us slaves takin' on. It's a wonder we ever did git massa buried.
+We carried him on our backs to the grave.
+
+"After that we had to carry missy to the mountains and hide her, 'cause
+everything, house and sheds and all, was burnt, and all her stock kilt
+by sojers and outlaws. When she come out of hidin' she didn't have a
+thing, not even a bed.
+
+"But she was a brave woman, and said, 'Louis, we'll fix some kind of
+quarters for you.' She went to work to rebuild the place. She said, 'You
+niggers is free, but I need you and I'll pay you $2.00 a month.' She
+did, too. She cut some logs and builded her one room and then we all
+build us a room and that was the best we could do. I 'lieve the Lawd
+blessed that woman. After freedom, that's how I lived the first year,
+and she paid me every cent she promised. I stayed with her three years.
+
+"Then I heared of a railroad job in Texas, and married Josie Sewel in a
+big weddin' and we had a great time. I gits a job on that railroad for
+fifty cents a day and it never lasted more'n a year, so I goes to
+farmin'.
+
+"We had fourteen chillun, four dead now, and the rest farmin' all over
+Texas. I has more'n a hundred grandchillun. Josie, she done die twenty
+years ago.
+
+"I don't know as I 'spected massa's land to be 'vided and give us, but
+they was plenty of land for everybody, and missy allus treated us right.
+Wages was terrible small for a long time after I married and sometimes
+they wouldn't pay us, and we had to beg or steal. I's went a whole two
+days without nothin' to eat. If it hadn't been for them there Klu Klux,
+sometimes the niggers would have went on the warpath for starvin'. But
+the Klu Kluxers wouldn't let 'em roam none, if they tried they stretch
+them out over a log and hit them with rawhide, but never say a word.
+That was got the niggers--they was so silent, not a sound out of them,
+and the nigger he can't stand that.
+
+"I gits a pension and works when I can and gits by. Some the young
+niggers is purty sorry, they's had so much and don't 'preciate none of
+it. I's glad for what I can git, 'cause I 'members them old times after
+the war when it was worse'n now.
+
+
+
+
+420178
+
+
+     JEFF CALHOUN, about 98, was born a slave of the Calhoun family, in
+     Alton, Alabama. After his master died, a son-in-law, Jim Robinson,
+     brought Jeff and 200 other slaves to Austin, Texas. Jeff was 22
+     when the Civil War began. He stayed with his old master, who had
+     moved to Stewart Mills Texas, after he was freed, and raised 23
+     children. He says, "I 'spect I has near a thous- children,
+     grandchildren and great grandchildren." He makes his home among
+     them, drifting over five states when and as he wishes.
+
+
+"My name am Jeff Calhoun and I was born in Alton, in Alabama, about
+1838, 'cause I's told by my massa. Dat makes me 'bout 98 year old now.
+My father was Henry Robinson and my mammy, she Mary Robinson. She was
+born in Maryland, in Virginia, but didn't know much 'bout her folks,
+'cause she was sold off young. Dere was four of us brothers and ten
+sisters, but dey all dead now but me.
+
+"We makes our beds out of forked saplings drove in the ground, 'cause de
+floors was dirt. We sets de pole in dat ground and it run to de top of
+de cabin and we makes one bed down low and one bed above. De big folks
+sleeps in de low beds and de chillun above, 'cause dey can climb.
+
+"My massa had 15 chillun and my mamma suckled every one of dem, 'cause
+his wife was no good to give milk.
+
+"We allus had lots to eat, but for meat we has to go to de woods and git
+deer and turkey and buffalo and some bear. I have eat hoss and skunk and
+crow and hawk.
+
+"We has a big fire to cook on, and to make de corn cakes we put one leaf
+down and put batter on dat and put another leaf over it and cover with
+hot ashes and by noon it was done. Same thing for supper. We never have
+biscuits 'cept on Sunday or Christmas.
+
+"My mama was de spinner so I has plenty shirts and some britches, and we
+raises indigo on de place and makes dye of it. We never wore no shoes in
+de summer and some winters neither. We has a good pair of pants and
+shirt we wears Sundays and holidays and was married in.
+
+"De way dey done at weddings dem days, you picks out a girl and tell
+your boss. If she was from another plantation you had to git her bosses
+'mission and den dey tells you to come up dat night and git hitched up.
+They says to de girl, 'You's love dis man?' Dey says to de man, 'You
+loves dis girl?' If you say you don't know, it's all off, but if you say
+yes, dey brings in de broom and holds it 'bout a foot off de floor and
+say to you to jump over. Den he says you's married. If either of you
+stumps you toe on de broom, dat mean you got trouble comin' 'tween you,
+so you sho' jumps high.
+
+"My massa was good to us. He lived in a log house with a floor and was
+all fixed up with pretty furniture and mirrors and silver on de table.
+De missus was little and frail, but she was good to us and so was de
+massa. He wasn't no hand to whip like some of he neighbors. Dey would
+tied de slaves' hands to a pole and whip de blood out of them. Dey was
+whipped for runnin' away.
+
+"I knowed a slave call Ben Bradley and he was sold on de auction block
+and his massa chained him hand and foot and started for Texas. Dey got
+to de Red River and was crossin' and de chains helt him down and he
+never came up. And I have a uncle what run off and dey took a pack of
+hounds--a pack were twelve--and dey got on his trail and I heared dem
+runnin' him. Dey run him three days and nights and took a gun loaded
+with buck shot but was sposed not to shoot above de legs. Dey come back
+and said he got away, but some boys was out huntin' and finds him and he
+been shot four times with buck shot.
+
+"De only time we got to rest was Sunday and de fourth of July and
+Christmas, and one day Thanksgiving. We got de big dinners on holidays.
+After supper was have corn shuckings, or on rainy days, and sometimes we
+shucks 500 bushels. We allus picked de cotton in big baskets, and when
+we gits it all picked we spreads on big and has a celebration.
+
+"I was in Texas when de war broke out and I hauls corn lots of times to
+de gin where was de soldier camp, and I helped cook awhile and would
+have been in de battle of Vicksburg only dey takes another man 'stead of
+me and he gits kilt. I's glad I's a sorry cook, or I'd got kilt 'stead
+of him.
+
+
+
+
+420262
+
+
+[Illustration: Simp Campbell]
+
+
+     SIMP CAMPBELL was born January 1860, in Harrison County, Texas, He
+     belonged to W.L. Sloan and stayed with him until 1883, when Simp
+     married and moved to Marshall. He and his wife live in Gregg
+     Addition, Marshall, Texas, and Simp works as porter for a loan
+     company.
+
+
+"My name is Simpson Campbell, but everybody, white and black, calls me
+Simp. I's born right here in Harrison County, on Bill Sloan's place,
+nine miles northwest of Marshall. I got in on the last five years of
+slavery.
+
+"Pappy was Lewis Campbell, and he was sold by the Florida Campbells to
+Marse Sloan and fotched to Texas, but he allus kep' the Campbell name.
+Mammy was Mariah and the Sloans brung her out of South Carolina. She
+raised a passel of chillen. Besides me there was Flint, Albert and
+Clinton of the boys, and--let me count--Dinah, Clandy, Mary, Lula, Liza,
+Hannah, Matilda and Millie of the girls.
+
+"The Sloans lived in a big house, but it wasn't no shanty. They was
+fixed 'bout as good as anybody in the county and driv as good hosses and
+rigs as anybody. They wasn't a mean streak in the whole Sloan family.
+
+"The slave quarters sot in rows right down in the field from the big
+house. They had beds made to the wall, and all the cookin' was on the
+fireplace. We raised all our meat and corn and garden truck right there
+on the place and Marse Sloan brung wheat and other rations from
+Shreveport. The nigger women spinned all the cloth and pappy made shoes
+by hand, when they kilt a beef. The beef was dried and jetted and hung
+in the smokehouse.
+
+"Marse's place civered a thousand acres and he had over a hunderd
+slaves, with a overseer, Johnson, and a nigger driver. Us niggers was
+treated well but the overseer had order to whip us for fightin'. If the
+nigger driver hit too many licks, the overseer sold him off the place.
+
+"We worked from four till six and done a task after that, and sot round
+and talked till nine and then had to go to bed. On Saturday night you'd
+hear them fiddles and banjoes playin' and the niggers singin'. All them
+music gadgets was homemade. The banjoes was made of round pieces of
+wood, civered with sheepskin and strung with catgut strings.
+
+"They wasn't no school but Marse Bill larnt some his niggers readin' and
+writin' so we could use them bookin' cotton in the field and sich like.
+They was a church on the Sloan place and white preachers done most the
+'xhorting. Mammy allus say the cullud preachers had to preach what
+they's told--obey you master and missus.
+
+"I seed Yankee sojers and wagons comin' home from Mansfield. Marse Tom
+sot us free right after surrender, but my folks stayed on with him till
+he died, in 1906. I lef when I's twenty-three and marries and made a
+livin' from public work in Marshall all my life. I worked as day laborer
+and raised two boys and two girls and the boys is farmin' right here in
+the county and doin' well.
+
+"When I's eighteen they got up a 'mendment to the Constitution and got
+out a "People's Party Ticket." It was a Democratic ticket and control by
+Southerners. They told us niggers if we'd vote that ticket we'd be
+rec'nized as white folks, but I didn't 'lieve a word of it. Old Man
+Sloan told all his niggers that and they all voted that ticket but
+two--that was Charley Tang and Simp Campbell.
+
+"I 'lieve the young race of our people is progressin' fine. If they had
+priv'lege to use they educations, they'd make more progress, but the
+color line holds them back.
+
+
+
+
+420106
+
+
+[Illustration: James Cape]
+
+
+     JAMES CAPE, centenarian, now living in a dilapidated little shack
+     in the rear of the stockyards in Fort Worth, Texas, was born a
+     slave to Mr. Bob Houston, who owned a large ranch in southeast
+     Texas. James' parents came direct from Africa into slavery. James
+     spent his youth as a cowboy, fought in the Confederate army, was
+     wounded and has an ugly shoulder scar. After the war, James
+     unknowingly took a job with the outlaw, Jesse James, for whom he
+     worked three years, in Missouri. He then came back to Texas, and
+     worked in the stockyards until 1928. Documentary proof of James'
+     age is lacking, but various facts told him by his parents and
+     others lead him to think he must be over 100 years old.
+
+
+"I's bo'n in yonder southeast Texas and I don' know what month or de
+year for sho', but 'twas more dan 100 years ago. My mammy and pappy was
+bo'n in Africa, dats what dey's tol' me. Dey was owned by Marster Bob
+Houston and him had de ranch down dere, whar dey have cattle and hosses.
+
+"When I's old 'nough to set on de hoss, dey larned me to ride, tendin'
+hosses. 'Cause I's good hoss rider, dey uses me all de time gwine after
+hosses. I goes with dem to Mexico. We crosses de river lots of times. I
+'members once when we was a drivin' 'bout 200 hosses north'ards. Dey was
+a bad hail storm comes into de face of de herd and dat herd turns and
+starts de other way. Dere was five of us riders and we had to keep dem
+hosses from scatterment. I was de leader and do you know what happens to
+dis nigger if my hoss stumbles? Right dere's whar I'd still be! Marster
+give me a new saddle for savin' de hosses.
+
+"One day Marster Bob comes to me and says, 'Jim, how you like to jine de
+army?' You see, de war had started. I says to him, 'What does I have to
+do?' And he says, 'Tend hosses and ride 'em.' I was young den and
+thought it would be lots of fun, so I says I'd go. So de first thing I
+knows, I's in de army away off east from here, somewhar dis side of St.
+Louis and in Tennessee and Arkansas and other places. I goes in de army
+'stead of Dr. Carroll.
+
+"After I gits in de army, it wasn' so much fun, 'cause tendin' hosses
+and ridin' wasn' all I does. No, sar, I has to do shootin' and git
+shooted at! One time we stops de train, takes Yankee money and lots of
+other things off dat train. Dat was way up de other side of Tennessee.
+
+"You's heard of de battle of Independence? Dat's whar we fights for
+three days and nights. I's not tendin' hosses dat time. Dey gives me a
+rifle and sends me up front fightin', when we wasn' running'. We does a
+heap of runnin' and dat suits dis nigger. I could do dat better'n
+advance. When de order comes to 'treat, I's all ready.
+
+"I gits shot in de shoulder in dat fight and lots of our soldiers gits
+killed and we loses our supply, jus' leaves it and runs. 'Nother time we
+fights two days and nights and de Yankees was bad dat time, too, and we
+had to run through de river. I sho' thought I's gwine git drowned den.
+Dat's de time we tries to git in St. Louis, but de Yankee mans stop us.
+
+"I's free after de war and goes back to Texas, to Gonzales County, and
+gits a job doin' cowboy work for Marster Ross herdin' cattle. And right
+dere's whar I's lucky for not gittin' in jail or hanged. It was dis
+way: I's in town and dat man, Ross, says to me, 'I unnerstan' you's a
+good cowhand,' and he hires me and takes me way out. No house for miles
+'fore we comes to de ranch with cattle and I goes to work. After I's
+workin' a while, I wonders how come dey brings in sich fine steers so
+often and I says to myself, 'Marster Ross mus' have heaps of money for
+to buy all dem steers.' Dey pays no 'tention to de raisin' of cattle,
+jus' brings 'em in and drives dem 'way.
+
+"One time Marster Ross and six mens was gone a week and when dey comes
+back, one of 'em was missin'. Dey had no steers dat time and dey talks
+'bout gittin' frusterated and how one man gits shot. I says to myself,
+'What for was dey chased and shot at?' Den I 'members Marster Bob
+Houston done tol' me 'bout rustlers and how dey's hanged when dey's
+caught, and I knows den dat's how come all dem fine steers is driv in
+and out all de time. But how to git 'way, dere's de puzzlement. I not
+know which way to go and dere's no houses anywhere near. I keeps gittin'
+scarter, and ever' time somebody comes, I thinks its de law. But Marster
+Ross drives de cattle north and I says to him, 'I's good hand at de
+drive. Kin I go with you nex' time you goes north?' And not long after
+dat we starts and we gits to Kansas City. After Marster Ross gets shut
+of de critters, he says. 'We'll res' for couple days, den starts back.'
+I says to me, 'Not dis nigger.'
+
+"I sneaks 'way and was settin' on a bench when 'long comes a white man
+and he's tall, had dark hair and was fine lookin'. He says to me, 'Is
+you a cowhand?' So I tells him I is, and he says he wants a hand on his
+farm in Missouri and he says, 'Come with me.' He tells me his name was
+James and takes me to his farm whar I tends cattle and hosses for three
+years and he pays me well. He gives me more'n I earns. After three years
+I leaves, but not 'cause I larned he was outlaw, 'cause I larned dat
+long time afterwa'ds. I's lonesome for Texas and dat's how I comes to
+Fort Worth and here's whar I's stayed ever' since.
+
+"I's married 'bout 40 years ago to a woman dat had eight chillens. We
+sep'rated 'cause dem chillens cause arg'ments. I can fight one, but not
+de army.
+
+
+
+
+420180
+
+
+     RICHARD CARRUTHERS, 100 year old ex-slave, was born in Memphis,
+     Tennessee. Mr. Billy Coats bought him and his mother and brought
+     them to Bastrop Co., Texas. He came to Houston 20 years ago and
+     lives in a negro settlement known as Acres Home, about 8 miles
+     northeast of Houston. It is a wooded section, with a clearing here
+     and there for a Negro shack and plots of ground for growing
+     "victuals and co'n."
+
+
+"I wants to tell the Gospel truf. My mammy's name was Melia Carruthers
+and my papa's name was Max. My papa's papa's name was Carruthers, too.
+My brothers names was Charlie and Frank and Willie and John and Tom and
+Adam.
+
+"When I was still little Mr. Billy Coats bought my mama and us and with
+about 500 of his slaves we set out to come to Texas. We goes to Bastrop
+County and starts to work. My old missy--her name was Missy Myra--was 99
+year old and her head was bald as a egg and had wens on it as big as
+eggs, too.
+
+"In them days the boss men had good houses but the niggers had log
+cabins and they burned down oftentimes. The chimney would cotch fire,
+'cause it was made out of sticks and clay and moss. Many the time we
+have to git up at midnight and push the chimney 'way from the house to
+keep the house from burnin' up.
+
+"The chairs was mostly chunks of cordwood put on end, or slabs, just
+rough, and the beds was built like scaffoldin'. We made a sort of
+mattress out of corn shucks or moss.
+
+"My missy, she was good, but the overseer, he rough. His temper born of
+the debbil, himse'f. His name was Tom Hill, but us called him 'Debbil
+Hill.'
+
+Old Debbil Hill, he used to whup me and the other niggers if we don't
+jump quick enough when he holler and he stake us out like you stake out
+a hide and whup till we bleed. Many the time I set down and made a
+eight-plait whup, so he could whup from the heels to the back of the
+head 'til he figger he get the proper ret'ibution. Sometime he take salt
+and rub on the nigger so he smart and burn proper and suffer mis'ry.
+They was a caliboose right on the plantation, what look like a
+ice-house, and it was sho' bad to git locked up in it.
+
+"Us got provisions 'lowanced to us every Saturday night. If you had two
+in the family, they 'lowanced you one-half gallon 'lasses and 12 to 15
+pounds bacon and a peck of meal. We have to take the meal and parch it
+and make coffee out of it. We had our flours. One of them we called
+biscuit flour and we called it 'shorts.' We had rye and wheat and buck
+grain.
+
+"If they didn't provision you 'nough, you jus' had to slip 'round and
+git a chicken. That easy 'nough, but grabbin' a pig a sho' 'nough
+problem. You have to cotch him by the snoot so he won't squeal, and
+clomp him tight while you knife him. That ain't stealin', is it? You has
+to keep right on workin' in the field, if you ain't 'lowanced 'nough,
+and no nigger like to work with his belly groanin'.
+
+"When the white preacher come he preach and pick up his Bible and claim
+he gittin the text right out from the good Book and he preach: 'The Lord
+say, don't you niggers steal chickens from your missus. Don't you steal
+YOUR MARSTER'S hawgs.' That would be all he preach.
+
+"Us niggers used to have a prayin' ground down in the hollow and
+sometime we come out of the field, between 11 and 12 at night, scorchin'
+and burnin' up with nothin' to eat, and we wants to ask the good Lawd to
+have mercy. We puts grease in a snuff pan or bottle and make a lamp. We
+takes a pine torch, too, and goes down in the hollow to pray. Some gits
+so joyous they starts to holler loud and we has to stop up they mouth. I
+see niggers git so full of the Lawd and so happy they draps unconscious.
+
+"I kep' a eye on the niggers down in the cotton patch. Sometime they
+lazy 'round and if I see the overseer comin' from the big house I sings
+a song to warn 'em, so they not git whupped, and it go like this:
+
+"'Hold up, hold up, American Spirit!
+Hold up, hold up, H-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!'
+
+"We used to go huntin' and they was lots of game, bears and panthers and
+coons. We have bear dawgs, fox dawg and rabbit dawg that mostly jus' go
+by the name of houn' dawg. Then they have a dawg to run niggers.
+
+"I never tried the conjure, but they would take hair and brass nails and
+thimbles and needles and mix them up in a conjure bag. But I knows one
+thing. They was a old gin between Wilbarger and Colorado and it was
+hanted with spirits of kilt niggers. Us used to hear that old mill
+hummin' when dark come and we slip up easy, but it stop, then when you
+slip away it start up.
+
+"I 'member when the stars fell. We runs and prays, 'cause we thinks it
+jedgment day. It sure dumb old Debbil Hill, them stars was over his
+power.
+
+"On Sundays we put shoes on our feet and they was brass toed. They was
+so hard and stiff they go 'tump, tump, tump,' when we walk. That's the
+only day we got 'cept Christmas and we jus' got somethin' extry to eat.
+All them women sho' knowed how to cook! I often tell my wife how glad I
+was one mornin' when my missy give me a hot, butter biscuit. I goes down
+and shows it to all the other boys. We didn't git them hot, butter
+biscuits in them days.
+
+"I used to dance the pigeon wing and swing my partners 'round. Was them
+womenfolks knock-kneed? You sho' couldn't tell, even when you swung 'em
+'round, 'cause they dresses was so long.
+
+"I's been all 'round the mountain and up on top of it in my day. Durin'
+slave time I been so cold I mos' turn white and they sot me 'fore the
+fire and poultice me with sliced turnips. Come a norther and it blow
+with snow and sleet and I didn't have 'nough clothes to keep me warm.
+
+"When a nigger marry, he slick up his lowers and put on his brass-toed
+shoes, then the preacher marry him out of the Bible. My pappy have a
+pass to visit my mammy and if he don't have one, the paddle roller conk
+him on the head. My grandma and grandpa come here in a steamboat. The
+man come to Africa and say, 'Man and woman, does you want a job?' So
+they gits on the boat and then he has the 'vantage.
+
+"When I was 21 and some more, I don't know jus' how old, I was a free
+man. That the day I shouted. We niggers scattered like partridges. I had
+a fiddle and I'd play for the white folks wherever I went, when they has
+the balls. I marries after 'while, but I don't know what year, 'cause we
+never done paid no 'tention to years. My first wife died after a long
+time, I think 'bout 34 year and I married another and she died this very
+year. Jus' three months later I marries my housekeeper, named Luvena
+Dixon, cause I allus lived a upright life and I knowed the Lawd wouldn't
+like it if I went on livin' in the same house with Luvena without we was
+married. She is 52 year old, and we is happy.
+
+
+
+
+420216
+
+
+[Illustration: Cato Carter]
+
+
+     CATO CARTER was born in 1836 or 1837, near Pineapple, Wilcox
+     County, Alabama, a slave of the Carter family. He and his wife live
+     at 3429 Booth St., Dallas, Texas.
+
+
+"I'm home today 'cause my li'l, old dog is lost and I has to stay 'round
+to hunt for him. I been goin' every day on the truck to the cotton
+patches. I don't pick no more, 'count my hands git too tired and begin
+to cramp on me. But I go and set in the field and watch the lunches for
+the other hands.
+
+"I am a hunerd one years old, 'cause I's twenty-eight, goin' on
+twenty-nine, a man growned, when the breakin' up come. I'm purty old,
+but my folks live that way. My old, black mammy, Zenie Carter, lived to
+be a hunerd twenty-five, and Oll Carter, my white massa--which was the
+brother of my daddy--lived to be a hunerd four. He ain't been so long
+died. Al Carter, my own daddy, lived to be very ageable, but I don't
+know when he died.
+
+"Back in Alabama, Missie Adeline Carter took me when I was past my
+creepin' days to live in the big house with the white folks. I had a
+room built on the big house, where I stayed, and they was allus good to
+me, 'cause I's one of their blood. They never hit me a lick or slapped
+me once, and told me they'd never sell me away from them. They was the
+bes' quality white folks and lived in a big, two-story house with a big
+hall what run all the way through the house. They wasn't rough as some
+white folks on their niggers.
+
+"My mammy lived in a hewn-oak log cabin in the quarters. There was a
+long row of cabins, some bigger than t'others, 'count of fam'ly size. My
+massa had over eighty head of slaves. Them li'l, old cabins was cozy,
+'cause we chinked 'em with mud and they had stick chimneys daubed with
+mud, mixed with hawg-hair.
+
+"The fixin's was jus' plain things. The beds was draw-beds--wooden
+bedsteads helt together with ropes drawed tight, to hold them. We
+scalded moss and buried it awhile and stuffed it into tickin' to make
+mattresses. Them beds slep' good, better'n the ones nowadays.
+
+"There was a good fireplace for cookin' and Sundays the Missie give us
+niggers a pint of flour and a chicken, for to cook a mess of victuals.
+Then there was plenty game to find. Many a time I've kilt seventy-five
+or eighty squirrels out of one big beech. There was lots of deer and
+bears and quails and every other kind of game, but when they ran the
+Indians out of the country, the game jus' followed the Indians. I've
+seed the bigges' herds of deer followin' the way the Indians drifted.
+Whenever the Indians lef', the game all lef' with them, for some reason
+I dunno.
+
+"Talkin' 'bout victuals, our eatin' was good. Can't say the same for all
+places. Some of the plantations half starved their niggers and 'lowanced
+out their eatin' till they wasn't fittin' for work. They had to slip
+about to niggers on other places to piece out their meals. They had
+field calls and other kinds of whoops and hollers, what had a meanin' to
+'em.
+
+"Our place was fifteen hunerd acres in one block, and 'sides the crops
+of cotton and corn and rice and ribbon cane we raised in the bottoms, we
+had veg'tables and sheep and beef. We dried the beef on scaffolds we
+built and I used to tend it. But bes' of anythin' to eat, I liked a big,
+fat coon, and I allus liked honey. Some the niggers had li'l garden
+patches they tended for themselves.
+
+"Everythin' I tell you am the truth, but they's plenty I can't tell you.
+I heard plenty things from my mammy and grandpappy. He was a fine diver
+and used to dive in the Alabama river for things what was wrecked out of
+boats, and the white folks would git him to go down for things they
+wanted. They'd let him down by a rope to find things on the bottom of
+the riverbed. He used to git a piece of money for doin' it.
+
+"My grandmammy was a juksie, 'cause her mammy was a nigger and her daddy
+a Choctaw Indian. That's what makes me so mixed up with Indian and
+African and white blood. Sometimes it mattered to me, sometimes it
+didn't. It don't no more, 'cause I'm not too far from the end of my
+days.
+
+"I had one brother and one sister I helped raise. They was mostly
+nigger. The Carters told me never to worry 'bout them, though, 'cause my
+mammy was of their blood and all of us in our fam'ly would never be
+sold, and sometime they'd make free man and women of us. My brother and
+sister lived with the niggers, though.
+
+"I was trained for a houseboy and to tend the cows. The bears was so bad
+then, a 'sponsible pusson who could carry a gun had to look after them.
+
+"My massa used to give me a li'l money 'long, to buy what I wanted. I
+allus bought fine clothes. In the summer when I was a li'l one, I wore
+lowerin's, like the rest of the niggers. That was things made from
+cotton sackin'. Most the boys wore shirttails till they was big
+yearlin's. When they bought me red russets from the town, I cried and
+cried. I didn't want to wear no rawhide shoes. So they took 'em back.
+They had a weakness for my cryin'. I did have plenty fine clothes, good
+woolen suits they spinned on the place, and doeskins and fine linens. I
+druv in the car'age with the white folks and was 'bout the mos' dudish
+nigger in them parts.
+
+"I used to tend the nurslin' thread. The reason they called it that was
+when the mammies was confined with babies havin' to suck, they had to
+spin. I'd take them the thread and bring it back to the house when it
+was spinned. If they didn't spin seven or eight cuts a day, they'd git a
+whuppin'. It was consid'ble hard on a woman when she had a frettin'
+baby. But every mornin' them babies had to be took to the big house, so
+the white folks could see if they's dressed right. They was money tied
+up in li'l nigger young'uns.
+
+"They whupped the women and they whupped the mens. I used to work some
+in the tan'ry and we made the whips. They'd tie them down to a stob, and
+give 'em the whuppin'. Some niggers, it taken four men to whup 'em, but
+they got it. The nigger driver was meaner than the white folks. They'd
+better not leave a blade of grass in the rows. I seed 'em beat a nigger
+half a day to make him 'fess up to stealin' a sheep or a shoat. Or
+they'd whup 'em for runnin' away, but not so hard if they come back of
+their own 'cordance when they got hungry and sick in the swamps. But
+when they had to run 'em down with the nigger dogs, they'd git in bad
+trouble.
+
+"The Carters never did have any real 'corrigible niggers, but I heard of
+'em plenty on other places. When they was real 'corrigible, the white
+folks said they was like mad dogs and didn't mind to kill them so much
+as killin' a sheep. They'd take 'em to the graveyard and shoot 'em down
+and bury 'em face downward, with their shoes on. I never seed it done,
+but they made some the niggers go for a lesson to them that they could
+git the same.
+
+"But I didn't even have to carry a pass to leave my own place, like the
+other niggers. I had a cap with a sign on it: 'Don't bother this
+nigger, or there will be Hell to pay.' I went after the mail, in the
+town. It come in coaches and they put on fresh hosses at Pineapple. The
+coachman run the hosses into Pineapple with a big to-do and blowin' the
+bugle to git the fresh hosses ready. I got the mail. I was a trusty all
+my days and never been 'rested by the law to this day.
+
+"I never had no complaints for my treatment, but some the niggers hated
+syrup makin' time, 'cause when they had to work till midnight makin'
+syrup, its four o'clock up, jus' the same. Sun-up to sundown was for
+fiel' niggers.
+
+"Corn shuckin' was fun. Them days no corn was put in the cribs with
+shucks on it. They shucked it in the fiel' and shocked the fodder. They
+did it by sides and all hands out. A beef was kilt and they'd have a
+reg'lar picnic feastin'. They was plenty whiskey for the niggers, jus'
+like Christmas.
+
+"Christmas was the big day at the Carter's. Presents for every body, and
+the bakin' and preparin' went on for days. The li'l ones and the big
+ones were glad, 'specially the nigger mens, 'count of plenty good
+whiskey. Mr. Oll Carter got the bes' whiskey for his niggers.
+
+"We used to have frolics, too. Some niggers had fiddles and played the
+reels, and niggers love to dance and sing and eat.
+
+"Course niggers had their ser'ous side, too. They loved to go to church
+and had a li'l log chapel for worship. But I went to the white folks
+church. In the chapel some nigger mens preached from the Bible, but
+couldn't read a line no more than a sheep could. The Carters didn't mind
+their niggers prayin' and singin' hymns, but some places wouldn't 'low
+them to worship a-tall, and they had to put their heads in pots to sing
+or pray.
+
+"Mos' the niggers I know, who had their mar'age put in the book, did it
+after the breakin' up, plenty after they had growned chillen. When they
+got married on the places, mostly they jus' jumped over a broom and
+that made 'em married. Sometimes one the white folks read a li'l out of
+the Scriptures to 'em and they felt more married.
+
+"Take me, I was never one for sickness. But the slaves used to git sick.
+There was jaundice in them bottoms. First off they'd give some castor
+oil, and if that didn't cure they'd give blue mass. Then if he was still
+sick they'd git a doctor.
+
+"They used to cry the niggers off jus' like so much cattle, and we
+didn't think no diff'rent of it. I seed them put them on the block and
+brag on them somethin' big. Everybody liked to hear them cry off
+niggers. The cryer was a clown and made funny talk and kep' everybody
+laughin'.
+
+"When massa and the other mens on the place went off to war, he called
+me and said, 'Cato, you's allus been a 'sponsible man, and I leave you
+to look after the women and the place. If I don't come back, I want you
+to allus stay by Missie Adeline! I said, 'Fore Gawd, I will, Massa Oll.'
+He said, 'Then I can go away peaceable.'
+
+"We thought for a long time the sojers had the Fed'rals whupped to
+pieces, but there was plenty bad times to go through. I carried a gun
+and guarded the place at nighttime. The paddyrollers was bad. I cotched
+one and took him to the house more'n once. They wore black caps and put
+black rags over their faces and was allus skullduggerying 'round at
+night. We didn't use torches any more when we went 'round at night,
+'cause we was afeared. We put out all the fires 'round the house at
+nighttime.
+
+"The young mens in grey uniforms used to pass so gay and singin', in the
+big road. Their clothes was good and we used to feed them the best we
+had on the place. Missie Adeline would say, 'Cato, they is our boys and
+give them the best this place 'fords.' We taken out the hams and the
+wine and kilt chickens for them. That was at first.
+
+"Then the boys and mens in blue got to comin' that way, and they was
+fine lookin' men, too. Missie Adeline would cry and say, 'Cato, they is
+just mens and boys and we got to feed them, too.' We had a pavilion
+built in the yard, like they had at picnics, and we fed the Fed'rals in
+that. Missie Adeline set in to cryin' and says to the Yankees, 'Don't
+take Cato. He is the only nigger man I got by me now. If you take Cato,
+I just don't know what I'll do.' I tells them sojers I got to stay by
+Missie Adeline so long as I live. The Yankee mens say to her, 'Don't
+'sturb youself, we ain't gwine to take Cato or harm nothin' of yours.'
+The reason they's all right by us, was 'cause we prepared for them, but
+with some folks they was rough somethin' ter'ble. They taken off their
+hosses and corn.
+
+"I seed the trees bend low and shake all over and heard the roar and
+poppin' of cannon balls. There was springs not too far from our place
+and the sojers used to camp there and build a fire and cook a mule,
+'cause they'd got down to starvation. When some of the guerillas seed
+the fire they'd aim to it, and many a time they spoiled that dinner for
+them sojers. The Yankees did it and our boys did it, too. There was
+killin' goin' on so ter'ble, like people was dogs.
+
+"Massa Oll come back and he was all wore out and ragged. He soon called
+all the niggers to the front yard and says, 'Mens and womens, you are
+today as free as I am. You are free to do as you like, 'cause the damned
+Yankees done 'creed you are. They ain't a nigger on my place what was
+born here or ever lived here who can't stay here and work and eat to the
+end of his days, as long as this old place will raise peas and goobers.
+Go if you wants, and stay if you wants.' Some of the niggers stayed and
+some went, and some what had run away to the North come back. They allus
+called, real humble like, at the back gate to Missie Adeline, and she
+allus fixed it up with Massa Oll they could have a place.
+
+"Near the close of the war I seed some folks leavin' for Texas. They
+said if the Fed'rals won the war they'd have to live in Texas to keep
+slaves. So plenty started driftin' their slaves to the west. They'd pass
+with the womens ridin' in the wagons and the mens on foot. Some took
+slaves to Texas after the Fed'rals done 'creed the breakin' up.
+
+"Long as I lived I minded what my white folks told me, 'cept one time.
+They was a nigger workin' in the fiel' and he kept jerkin' the mules and
+Massa Oll got mad, and he give me a gun and said, 'Go out there and kill
+that man.' I said, 'Massa Oll, please don't tell me that. I ain't never
+kilt nobody and I don't want to.' He said, 'Cato, you do what I tell
+you.' He meant it. I went out to the nigger and said, 'You has got to
+leave this minute, and I is, too, 'cause I is 'spose to kill you, only I
+ain't and Massa Oll will kill me.' He drops the hanes and we run and
+crawled through the fence and ran away.
+
+"I hated to go, 'cause things was so bad, and flour sold for $25.00 a
+barrel, and pickled pork for $15.00 a barrel. You couldn't buy nothin'
+lessen with gold. I had plenty of 'federate money, only it wouldn't buy
+nothin'.
+
+"But today I is a old man and my hands ain't stained with no blood. I is
+allus been glad I didn't kill that man.
+
+"Mules run to a ter'ble price then. A right puny pair of mules sold for
+$500.00. But the Yankees give me a mule and I farmed a year for a white
+man and watched a herd of mules, too. I stayed with them mules till four
+o'clock even Sundays. So many scoundrels was goin' 'bout, stealin'
+mules.
+
+"That year I was boun' out by 'greement with the white man, and I made
+$360.00. The bureau come by that year lookin' at nigger's contracts, to
+see they didn't git skunt out their rightful wages. Missie Adeline and
+Massa Oll didn't stay mad at me and every Sunday they come by to see me,
+and brung me li'l del'cate things to eat.
+
+"The Carters said a hunerd times they regretted they never larned me to
+read or write, and they said my daddy done put up $500.00 for me to go
+to the New Allison school for cullud folks. Miss Benson, a Yankee, was
+the teacher. I was twenty-nine years old and jus' startin' in the
+blueback speller. I went to school a while, but one mornin' at ten
+o'clock my poor old mammy come by and called me out. She told me she got
+put out, 'cause she too old to work in the fiel'. I told her not to
+worry, that I'm the family man now, and she didn't never need to git any
+more three-quarter hand wages no more.
+
+"So I left school and turnt my hand to anything I could find for years.
+I never had no trouble findin' work, 'cause all the white folks knowed
+Cato was a good nigger. I lef' my mammy with some fine white folks and
+she raised a whole family of chillen for them. Their name was Bryan and
+they lived on a li'l bayou. Them young'uns was crazy 'bout mammy and
+they'd send me word not to worry about her, 'cause she'd have the bes'
+of care and when she died they'd tend to her buryin'.
+
+"Finally I come to Texas, 'cause I thought there was money for the
+takin' out here. I got a job splittin' rails for two years and from then
+on I farmed, mostly. I married a woman and lived with her forty-seven
+years, rain or shine. We had thirteen chillen and eight of them is
+livin' today.
+
+"Endurin' the big war I got worried 'bout my li'l black mammy and I
+wanted to go back home and see her and the old places. I went, and she
+was shriveled up to not much of anything. That's the last time I saw
+her. But for forty-four years I didn't forget to send her things I
+thought she'd want. I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I left and
+raised a family of chillen. I saw Missie Adeline and she was a old
+woman. We went out and looked at the tombstones and the rock
+markers in the graveyard on the old place, and some of them done near
+melted away. I looked good at lots of things, 'cause I knowed I wouldn't
+be that way 'gain. So many had gone on since I'd been there befo'.
+
+"After my first wife died I married 'gain and my wife is a good woman
+but she's old and done lost her voice, and has to be in Terrell most the
+time. But I git 'long all right, 'cept my hands cramps some.
+
+"You goin' take my picture? I lived through plenty and I lived a long
+time, but this is the first time I ever had my picture took. If I'd
+knowed you wanted to do that, I'd have tidied up and put on my best.
+
+
+
+
+420276
+
+
+     JACK CAUTHERN, 85, was born near Austin, Texas. Dick Townes owned
+     Jack and his parents. After they were freed, the family stayed on
+     the plantation, but Jack went to San Angelo, because "times was too
+     dull in Travis County."
+
+
+"My master was Dick Townes and my folks come with him from Alabama. He
+owned a big plantation fifteen miles from Austin and worked
+lots of slaves. We had the best master in the whole county, and
+everybody called us "Townes' free niggers," he was so good to us, and we
+worked hard for him, raisin' cotton and corn and wheat and oats.
+
+"Most the slaves lived in two-room log cabins with dirt floors, over in
+the quarters, but I lived in master's yard. That's where I was born.
+There was a tall fence 'tween the yard and the quarters and the other
+nigger boys was so jealous of me they wouldn't let me cross that fence
+into the quarters. They told me I thinked I was white, jes' for livin'
+in master's yard.
+
+"Me and young master had the good times. He was nigh my age and we'd
+steal chickens from Old Miss and go down in the orchard and barbecue
+'em. One time she cotched us and sho' wore us out! She'd send us to pick
+peas, but few peas we picked!
+
+"Old Miss was good to her cullud folks. When she'd hear a baby cryin' in
+the night she'd put on boots and take her lantern and go see about it.
+If we needed a doctor she'd send for old Dr. Rector and when I had the
+measles he give me some pills big as the end of my finger.
+
+"We went to church all the time. Young Miss come over Sunday mornin' and
+fotched all us chillen to the house and read the Bible to us. She was
+kind of a old maid and that was her pleasure. We had baptisin's, too.
+One old cullud man was a preacher. Lawd, Lawd, we had shoutin' at them
+camp meetin's!
+
+"I guess we was glad to be free. Old master done die and Old Miss was
+managin' the plantation. She had the whole bunch in the yard and read
+the freedom paper. The old slaves knowed what it meant, but us young
+ones didn't. She told everybody they could stay and work on shares and
+most of 'em did, but some went back to they old homes in Alabama.
+
+"I stayed a while and married, and came to San Angelo. The reason I
+come, times was dull in Travis County and I done hear so much talk 'bout
+this town I said I was comin' and see for myself. That was in 1900 and
+it was jes' a forest here then. I worked eighteen years in McCloskey's
+saloon, and he gave me ten dollars every Christmas 'sides my pay and a
+suit every year. I wish he was livin' now. My wife and I was together
+fifty-two years and then she died. After a long time I married again,
+and my wife is out pickin' cotton now.
+
+"It seem mighty hard to me now by side of old times, but I don't know if
+it was any better in slavery days. It seems mighty hard though, since
+I'm old and can't work.
+
+
+
+
+420154
+
+
+     SALLY BANKS CHAMBERS, wife of Ben Chambers of Liberty, does not
+     know her age. She was born a slave of Jim Moore, in Oakland,
+     Louisiana. Sally has been married three times and has had seven
+     children, about 54 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren. Heavy
+     gold earrings hang from her ears and she dresses, even in
+     midsummer, in a long-sleeved calico shirt, heavy socks and shoes,
+     and a sweeping skirt many yards wide.
+
+
+"Befo' I marry de first time my name am Sally Banks, and I's borned in
+de old states, over in Louisiana, round Oakland. I ain't 'member nothin'
+'bout dat place, 'cause I's so small when dey brung me to Texas.
+
+"Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old gen'man, with a big bald place
+on he head, and he am good to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old
+missus, what was de big, stout woman. She am terrible stric', but she
+whip de li'l white chillen too, so dey be good.
+
+"My daddy name John Moore and mama name Car'line, and dey borned in
+Louisiana. My grandpa was Lewis Moore and grandma name Polly, but dey
+wasn't reg'lar Africy people. My grandma, she have right smart good
+blood in her.
+
+"When old massa come to Texas he brung us over first by wagon, a mule
+wagon with a cover over de top, and he rent de house clost to Liberty.
+But de nex' year he find a place on de river bottom near Grand Cane and
+it jes' suit him for de slaves he have, so he brung all de rest over
+from Louisiana.
+
+"My mama have four chillen when us come to Texas, but she have eleven
+more after freedom. When war broke out she have six, but she multiply
+after dat. She de milker and washwoman and spinner, and make de good,
+strong clothes.
+
+"Dey have li'l separate houses make outten logs for us slaves. De white
+folks house was one dese big, old double-pen house, with de hall down de
+middle. Dey have right nice things in it.
+
+"De white folks 'lowance out de food every Saturday night and dat spose
+last de week. All de cullud folks cook for deyself 'cept'n de single
+mens, and dey eats up in de big kitchen. Us have syrup and cornbread and
+lots of sweet 'taters and homecure' meat what dey salt down and hang in
+de smokehouse.
+
+"De old missus, she ain't 'low no dancin' or huzzawin' round dat place,
+'cause she Christian. Dey 'low us Saturday and Sunday off, and de women
+do dey own washin den'. De menfolks tend to de gardens round dey own
+house. Dey raise some cotton and sell it to massa and git li'l money dat
+way. Us don't never have no presents, but dey give eatments mostly.
+
+"De young massas both go to war. Dey John Calhoun Moore and William. De
+oldes' goes crazy, kind of shellshock like. As far as I knowed, he ain't
+never git no more better. Young William and de old man comes back
+without no scratch, but dey ain't serve long. All dey three 'lists by
+deyselfs, 'cause dey didn't have no truck with dem conscrip'ers. One my
+uncles, Levy Moore, he go to war to wait on de massas, and he struck
+with de fever at Sabine Pass and die right dere.
+
+"After freedom riz up, old massa come home. Den he call all de growed
+folks and tell dem dey's free. A heap left, dey jes' broke ranks and
+left. My daddy and mama both stay. Dey de fav'rites. Old missus make
+present to my mama of a heap of things she need. But de white folks was
+jus' rentin' and when dey have no slaves no more dey give it up and move
+to Tarkington Prairie. Us lost track of dem and ain't never seed dem no
+more.
+
+"My daddy come back to Liberty den and work in de woodyard. Mama, she
+larn me to work and cook and sich and hire me out to nuss a white baby.
+I ain't knowed how much dey pay, 'cause mama she collec' de money.
+
+"I's 19 year old when I marry de first time. You know I got two dead
+men, dat Dick Owens and Nero Williams, both of Liberty. I has two gals,
+Alice and Airy, for Dick, and five chillen for Nero. Dey all dead but
+Adlowyer and Mamie, and dey lives right here. I been marry some thirty
+odd year to Ben Chambers but us ain't never have no chillen.
+
+"Goodness, I dunno how many grandchillen I has. I jedge 'bout 54 in all
+and 13 great ones.
+
+"I loves to work and I ain't gwineter beg, though I's got too old to do
+much. I can't take it but a li'l at a time, but I gits by somehow.
+
+
+
+
+420179
+
+
+     JEPTHA CHOICE, 1117 Brashear St., Houston, Texas, was born in
+     slavery, on the plantation of Jezro Choice, about 6 miles south of
+     Henderson, Texas. Jeptha was sent to school with the white
+     children, and after he was freed, he was sent to school for several
+     years, and became a teacher. He moved to Houston in 1888 and opened
+     a barber shop. Jeptha claims to have been born on Oct. 17, 1835,
+     which would make him 101 years old. He has the appearance of
+     extreme age, but has a retentive memory, and his manner of speaking
+     varies from fairly good English to typical Negro dialect and idiom.
+
+
+"I'll be 102 years old, come fall, 'cause my mother told me I was born
+on Oct. 17, 1835, and besides, I was about 30 years old at the end of
+the Civil War. We belonged to the Choices and I was born on their
+plantation. My mother's name was Martha and she had been brought here
+from Serbia. My father's name was John and he was from the East Indies.
+They was brought to this country in a slave boat owned by Captain Adair
+and sold to someone at New Orleans before Master Jezro Choice bought
+them. I had five sisters and one brother but they are all dead, 'cepting
+one brother who lives near Henderson.
+
+"Master Jezro was right kind. He had 50 or 60 slaves and a grist mill
+and tannery besides the plantation. My white folks sort of picked me out
+and I went to school with the white children. I went to the fields when
+I was about 20, but I didn't do much field works, 'cause they was
+keepin' me good and they didn't want to strain me.
+
+"On Sunday we just put an old Prince Albert coat on some good nigger and
+made a preacher out of him. We niggers had our band, too, and I was one
+of the players.
+
+"The master was mighty careful about raisin' healthy nigger families and
+used us strong, healthy young bucks to stand the healthy nigger gals.
+When I was young they took care not to strain me and I was as handsome
+as a speckled pup and was in demand for breedin'. Later on we niggers
+was 'lowed to marry and the master and missus would fix the nigger and
+gal up and have the doin's in the big house. The white folks would
+gather round in a circle with the nigger and gal in the center and then
+master laid a broom on the floor and they held hands and jumped over it.
+That married 'em for good.
+
+"When babies was born old nigger grannies handled them cases, but until
+they was about three years old they wasn't 'lowed round the quarters,
+but was wet nursed by women who didn't work in the field and kept in
+separate quarters and in the evenin' their mammies were let to see 'em.
+
+"We was fed good and had lots of beef and hawg meat and wild game.
+Possum and sweet yams is mighty good. You parboil the possum about half
+done and put him in a skewer pan and put him in a hot oven and just
+'fore he is done you puts the yams in the pan and sugar on 'em. That's a
+feast.
+
+"Sometimes when they's short of bread the old missus would say, 'How
+'bout some ash cakes?' Then they'd mix cornmeal and water and sweep
+ashes out of the open hearth and bake the ash cakes.
+
+"The master and his boys was all kilt in the war and after freedom I
+stayed all summer. It was pretty tough on us niggers for a while, 'cause
+the womenfolks what was left after the war didn't have money. But
+Colonel Jones, the master's son-in-law, took me to live in Henderson and
+paid twenty-five cents a week for more schoolin' for me and I learned
+through fractions. Then I got me a job teachin' school about six months
+a year and in off times I'd farm. I did lots of different kinds of work,
+on the narrow gauge railroad out of Longview and I learned to be a
+barber, too. But I had to give it up a few years back 'cause I can't
+stand up so long any more and now I'm tryin' to help my people by divine
+healing.
+
+
+
+
+420243
+
+
+[Illustration: Amos Clark's Sorghun Mill]
+
+[Illustration: Amos Clark]
+
+
+     AMOS CLARK, 96, was born a slave of Robert Clark, in Washington
+     County, Texas. After Amos was freed, he farmed near Belton, Texas.
+     Amos now lives in Waco.
+
+
+"I was borned on the second of April, in 1841. Mammy say dat de year,
+'cause Marse Bob's brother, Tom, done go tradin' and has a lot of
+trouble with de Indians, and come back with scars all over he arms. It
+warn't all dey fault, 'cause Marse Tom allus gittin' in trouble with
+somebody.
+
+"When I was still half-growed, Marse Bob traded me to Marse Ed
+Roseborough, and we come to Belton to live. Us piled ox wagons high with
+beddin' and clothes and sich, and Old Marse had he books in a special
+horsehair trunk, what de hide still had hair on. It had brass tacks all
+trimmin' it up, and it was sho' a fine trunk, and he say, 'Amos, you
+black rascal, keep you eye on dat trunk, and don't git it wet crossin'
+de water and don't let no Indian git it.' Us had a sizeable drove of
+cattle and some sheep and pigs and chickens and ducks.
+
+"Marse and Missis finds where dey wants de house and us gits dem axes
+out and in a few days dere am a nice log house with two big rooms and a
+hall 'tween dem, mos' as big as de rooms. Us been on de road 'bout six
+weeks and Missis sho' proud of her new house. Den us makes logs into
+houses for us and a big kitchen close to de big house. Den us builds a
+office for Old Marse and makes chairs and beds and tables for everybody.
+Old Miss brung her bed and a spindly, li'l table, and us make all de
+rest.
+
+"For eatin' de good shooters and scouters gits birds and rabbits and
+wild turkeys and sometimes a lot of wild eggs or honey, when dey chops a
+bee tree down. A old Indian come to holp us hunt. He'd work a week if
+Marse Ed give him some red calico or a hatchet. Old Miss done bring a
+dozen hens and a bag of seeds, and folks come ridin' twenty miles to
+swap things.
+
+"Dere warn't no mill to grind corn, so de boss carpenter, he hollows out
+a log and gits some smooth, hard rocks and us grind de corn like it was
+a morter. Old Man Stubblefield builded a watermill on de creek 'bout
+eight miles from us, and den us tooken de corn dere.
+
+"Dere was three hundred acres and more'n fifty slaves, and lots of work,
+clearin' and buildin' and plantin'. Some de cabins didn't git no floor
+for two years. Jes' quick as dey could, de men gits out clapboards for
+de walls and split puncheon slabs for floors and palin's for fences.
+
+"Missis, she takes two de likelies' young slaves and makes a garden,
+come spring. Somehow she git herself roses and posies and vegetables.
+
+"Dere warn't no overseer. Marse Ed, he jes' ride round on he big hoss
+and see to things. Us didn't know nothin 'bout de war much, 'cause none
+us could read or write.
+
+"Dere was two fiddlers 'mongst us, Jim Roseborough and Tom. Dey'd have
+de big barbecue for folks come from miles round, and coffee and chicken
+and turkey and dancin' and fiddlin' all night. Come daybreak, dey jes'
+goin' good. Us niggers dance back de quarters, and call
+
+"'All eight balance and all eight swing,
+All left allemond and right hand grand,
+Meet your partner and prom'nade, eight,
+Den march till you come straight.
+
+"'First lady out to couple on de right,
+Swing Mr. Adam and swing Miss Eve,
+Swing Old Adam befo' you leave,
+Don't forgit your own--now you're home.'
+
+"Two, three years after dat I marries Liza Smith. Us has four chillen
+and all dead 'cept John, and he lives out west.
+
+"After freedom Old Marse say kill a yearlin' and have de big dinner and
+dance. De young ones he told to scatter out and hunt work, not to steal
+and work hard. Some de oldes' ones he give a cabin and a patch of land.
+He say de niggers what want to stay on and work for him can, iffen he
+make enough to feed dem. I stays with Marse Ed, but he give me a patch
+of twenty acres and a sorghum mill to make a livin' on. Dat how I gits
+on my way after freedom.
+
+"I gits dat sorghum mill to workin' good and works de Roseborough land
+and my patch, and raises corn and cotton and wheat. I was plumb good at
+farmin'. I allus had a piece or two of money in my pocket since I can
+'member, but now de old man's too old. De gov'ment gives me seven or
+eight dollars a month and I has a few chickens and gits by, and de good
+white folks nigh by sees dat dis old boy don't git cold.
+
+
+
+
+420059
+
+
+[Illustration: Anne Clark]
+
+
+     MOTHER ANNE CLARK, 112 years old, lives at 3602 Alameda Ave., El
+     Paso, Texas. She is too crippled to walk, but a smile lights up the
+     tired old eyes that still see to sew without glasses. One tooth of
+     a third set is in her upper gum. She is deaf, but can hear if you
+     speak close to her ear. She says, "Lemma git my ears open, bofe of
+     'em," wets her finger, then pulls so hard on the ear lobes it seems
+     they would be injured.
+
+
+"I'll be 112 years old, come first day of June (1937). Bo'n in
+Mississippi. I had two marsters, but I've been free nearly 80 years. I
+was freed in Memphis.
+
+"My marster was a Yankee. He took me to Louisiana and made a slave outta
+me. But he had to go to war. He got in a quarrel one day and grabbed two
+six-shooters, but a old white man got him down and nearly kilt him. Our
+men got him and gave him to the Yankees.
+
+"Capt. Clark, my second marster, took a shot at him and he couldn' come
+south no more. You don' know what a time I seen! I don' wanna see no
+more war. Why, we made the United States rich but the Yankees come and
+tuk it. They buried money and when you bury money it goes fu'ther down,
+down, down, and then you cain't fin' it.
+
+"You know, the white folks hated to give us up worse thing in the world.
+I ploughed, hoed, split rails. I done the hardest work ever a man ever
+did. I was so strong, iffen he needed me I'd pull the men down so the
+marster could handcuff 'em. They'd whop us with a bullwhip. We got up
+at 3 o'clock, at 4 we done et and hitched up the mules and went to the
+fiel's. We worked all day pullin' fodder and choppin' cotton. Marster'd
+say, 'I wan' you to lead dat fiel' today, and if you don' do it I'll put
+you in de stocks.' Then he'd whop me iffen I didn' know he was talkin'
+to me.
+
+"My poppa was strong. He never had a lick in his life. He helped the
+marster, but one day the marster says, 'Si, you got to have a whoppin',
+and my poppa says, 'I never had a whoppin' and you cain't whop me.' An'
+the marster says, 'But I kin kill you,' an' he shot my poppa down. My
+mama tuk him in the cabin and put him on a pallet. He died.
+
+"My mama did the washin' for the big house. She tuk a big tub on her
+head and a bucket of water in her hand. My mama had two white chillen by
+marster and they were sold as slaves. I had two chillen, too. I never
+married. They allus said we'd steal, but I didn' take a thing. Why,
+they'd put me on a hoss with money to take into town and I'd take it to
+the store in town, and when I'd git back, marster'd say, 'Anne, you
+didn' take a thing.'
+
+"When women was with child they'd dig a hole in the groun' and put their
+stomach in the hole, and then beat 'em. They'd allus whop us."
+
+"Don' gring me anything fine to wear for my birthday. I jus' wan' some
+candy. I'm lookin' for Him to take me away from here."
+
+
+
+
+420293
+
+
+     THOMAS COLE was born in Jackson Co., Alabama, on the 8th of August,
+     1845, a slave of Robert Cole. He ran away in 1861 to join the Union
+     Army. He fought at Chickamauga, under Gen. Rosecran and at
+     Chattanooga, Look Out Mt. and Orchard Knob, under Gen. Thomas.
+     After the war he worked as switchman in Chattanooga until his
+     health failed due to old age. He then came to Texas and lives with
+     his daughter, in Corsicana. Thomas is blind.
+
+
+"I might as well begin far back as I remember and tell you all about
+myself. I was born over in Jackson County, in Alabama, on August 8,
+1845. My mother was Elizabeth Cole, her bein' a slave of Robert Cole,
+and my father was Alex Gerrand, 'cause he was John Gerrand's slave. I
+was sposed to take my father's name, but he was sech a bad, ornery,
+no-count sech a human, I jes' taken my old massa's name. My mother was
+brung from Virginny by Massa Dr. Cole, and she nussed all his six
+chillen. My sister's name was Sarah and my brother's name was Ben and we
+lived in one room of the big house, and allus had a good bed to sleep in
+and good things to eat at the same table, after de white folks gits
+through.
+
+"I played with Massa Cole's chillen all de time, and when I got older he
+started me workin' by totin' wood and sech odd jobs, and feedin' de
+hawgs. Us chillen had to pick cotton every fall. De big baskets weigh
+about seventy-five to a hundred pounds, but us chillen put our pickin's
+in some growed slave's basket. De growed slaves was jes' like a mule. He
+work for grub and clothes, and some of dem didn't have as easier a time
+as a mule, for mules was fed good and slaves was sometimes half
+starved. But Massa Cole was a smart man and a good man with it. He had
+'spect for the slaves' feelin's and didn't treat dem like dumb brutes,
+and 'lowed dem more privileges dan any other slaveholder round dere. He
+was one of de best men I ever knows in my whole life and his wife was
+jes' like him. Dey had a big, four-room log house with a big hall down
+the center up and down. De logs was all peeled and de chinkin' a
+diff'rent color from de logs and covered with beads. De kitchen am a
+one-room house behin' de big house with de big chimney to cook on. Dat
+where all de meals cooked and carry to de house.
+
+"In winter massa allus kill from three to four hundred hawgs, de two
+killin's he done in November and January. Some kill and stick, some
+scald and scrape, and some dress dem and cut dem up and render de lard.
+Dey haul plenty hick'ry wood to de smokehouse and de men works in shifts
+to keep de smoke fire goin' sev'ral days, den hangs de meat in de
+meathouse. First us eat all de chitlin's, den massa begin issuin'
+cut-back bones to each fam'ly, and den 'long come de spareribs, den de
+middlin' or a shoulder, and by dat time he kill de second time and dis
+was to go all over 'gain. Each fam'ly git de same kind of meat each
+week. Iffen one git a ham, dey all git a ham. All de ears and feet was
+pickle and we eats dem, too. If de meat run out 'fore killin' time, us
+git wild turkeys or kill a beef or a goat, or git a deer.
+
+"Massa let us plant pumpkins and have a acre or two for watermelons,
+iffen us work dem on Saturday evenin's. Dere a orchard of 'bout five or
+six acres peaches and apples and he 'low us to have biscuits once a
+week. Yes, we had good eatin' and plenty of it den.
+
+"Massa had one big, stout, healthy lookin' slave 'bout six foot, four
+inches tall, what he pay $3,000 for. He bought six slaves I knows of and
+give from $400 up for dem. He never sold a slave 'less he git onruly.
+
+"Massa allus give us cotton clothes for summer and wool for winter,
+'cause he raised cotton and sheep. Den each fam'ly have some chickens
+and sell dem and de eggs and maybe go huntin' and sell de hides and git
+some money. Den us buy what am Sunday clothes with dat money, sech as
+hats and pants and shoes and dresses.
+
+"We'd git up early every day in de year, rain or shine, hot or cold. A
+slave blowed de horn and dere no danger of you not wakin' up when dat
+blowed long and loud. He climb up on a platform 'bout ten feet tall to
+blow dat bugle. We'd work till noon and eat in de shade and rest 'bout a
+hour or a little more iffen it hot, but only a hour if it cold. You is
+allus tired when you makes de day like dat on de plantation and you
+can't play all night like de young folks does now. But us lucky, 'cause
+Massa Cole don't whip us. De man what have a place next ours, he sho'
+whip he slaves. He have de cat-o-nine tails of rawhide leather platted
+round a piece of wood for a handle. De wood 'bout ten inches long and de
+leather braided on past de stock quite a piece, and 'bout a foot from
+dat all de strips tied in a knot and sprangle out, and makes de tassle.
+Dis am call de cracker and it am what split de hide. Some folks call dem
+bullwhips, 'stead of cat-o-nine tails. De first thing dat man do when he
+buy a slave, am give him de whippin'. He call it puttin' de fear of Gawd
+in him.
+
+"Massa Cola 'low us read de Bible. He awful good 'bout dat. Most de
+slaveowners wouldn't 'low no sech. Uncle Dan he read to us and on Sunday
+we could go to church. De preacher baptize de slaves in de river. Dat
+de good, old-time 'ligion, and us all go to shoutin' and has a good
+time. Dis gen'ration too dig'fied to have de old-time 'ligion.
+
+"When baptizin' comes off, it almost like goin' to de circus. People
+come from all over and dey all singin' songs and everybody take dere
+lunch and have de good time. Massa Cole went one time and den he git
+sick, and next summer he die. Missy Cole, she moves to Huntsville, in
+Alabama. But she leave me on de plantation, 'cause I'm big and stout
+den. She takes my mother to cook and dat de last time I ever seed my
+mother. Missy Cole buys de fine house in Huntsville my mother tells me
+to be good and do all de overseer tells me. I told her goodbye and she
+never did git to come back to see me, and I never seed her and my
+brother and sister 'gain. I don't know whether dey am sold or not.
+
+"I thinks to myself, dat Mr. Anderson, de overseer, he'll give me dat
+cat-o-nine tails de first chance he gits, but makes up my mind he won't
+git de chance, 'cause I's gwine run off de first chance I gits. I didn't
+know how to git out of dere, but I's gwine north where dere ain't no
+slaveowners. In a year or so dere am 'nother overseer, Mr. Sandson, and
+he give me de log house and de gal to do my cookin' and sich. Dere am
+war talk and we 'gins gwine to de field earlier and stayin' later. Corn
+am haul off, cotton am haul off, hawgs and cattle am rounded up and haul
+off and things 'gins lookin' bad. De war am on, but us don't see none of
+it. But 'stead of eatin' cornbread, us eats bread out of kaffir corn and
+maize. "We raises lots of okra and dey say it gwine be parch
+and grind to make coffee for white folks. Dat didn't look good either.
+Dat winter, 'stead of killin' three or four hundred hawgs like we allus
+done befo', we only done one killin' of a hundred seventy-five, and dey
+not all big ones, neither. When de meat supply runs low, Mr. Sandson
+sends some slaves to kill a deer or wild hawgs or jes' any kind of game.
+He never sends me in any dem bunches but I hoped he would and one day he
+calls me to go and says not to go off de plantation too far, but be sho'
+bring home some meat. Dis de chance I been wantin', so when we gits to
+de huntin' ground de leader says to scatter out, and I tells him me and
+'nother man goes north and make de circle round de river and meet 'bout
+sundown. I crosses de river and goes north. I's gwine to de free
+country, where dey ain't no slaves. I travels all dat day and night up
+de river and follows de north star. Sev'ral times I thunk de blood
+houn's am trailin' me and I gits in de big hurry. I's so tired I
+couldn't hardly move, but I gits in a trot.
+
+"I's hopin' and prayin' all de time I meets up with dat Harriet Tubman
+woman. She de cullud women what takes slaves to Canada. She allus
+travels de underground railroad, dey calls it, travels at night and
+hides out in de day. She sho' sneaks dem out de South and I thinks she's
+de brave woman.
+
+"I eats all de nuts and kills a few swamp rabbits and cotches a few
+fish. I builds de fire and goes off 'bout half a mile and hides in de
+thicket till it burns down to de coals, den bakes me some fish and
+rabbit. I's shakin' all de time, 'fraid I'd git cotched, but I's nearly
+starve to death. I puts de rest de fish in my cap and travels on dat
+night by de north star and hides in a big thicket de nex' day and along
+evenin' I hears guns shootin'. I sho' am scart dis time, sho' 'nough.
+I's scart to come in and scart to go out, and while I's standin' dere, I
+hears two men say, 'Stick you hands up, boy. What you doin?' I says,
+'Uh-uh-uh, I dunno. You ain't gwine take me back to de plantation, is
+you?' Dey says, 'No. Does you want to fight for de North?' I says I
+will, 'cause dey talks like northern men. Us walk night and day and gits
+in Gen. Rosecran's camp and dey thunk I's de spy from de South. Dey asks
+me all sorts of questions and says dey'll whip me if I didn't tell dem
+what I's spyin' 'bout. Fin'ly dey 'lieves me and puts me to work helpin'
+with de cannons. I feels 'portant den, but I didn't know what was in
+front of me, or I 'spects I'd run off 'gain.
+
+"I helps sot dem cannons on dis Chickamauga Mountain, in hidin' places.
+I has to go with a man and wait on him and dat cannon. First thing I
+knows, bang, bang, boom, things has started, and guns am shootin' faster
+dan you can think, and I looks round for de way to run. But dem guns am
+shootin' down de hill in front of me and shootin' at me, and over me and
+on both sides of me. I tries to dig me a hole and git in it. All dis
+happen right now, and first thing I knows, de man am kickin' me and
+wantin' me to holp him keep dat cannon loaded. Man, I didn't want no
+cannon, but I has to help anyway. We fit till dark and de Rebels got
+more men dan us, so Gen. Rosecran sends de message to Gen. Woods to come
+help us out. When de messenger slips off, I sho' wish it am me slippin'
+off, but I didn't want to see no Gen. Woods. I jes' wants to git back to
+dat old plantation and pick more cotton. I'd been willin' to do mos'
+anything to git out that mess, but I done told Gen. Rosecran I wants to
+fight de Rebels and he sho' was lettin' me do it. He wasn't jes' lettin'
+me do it, he was makin' me do it. I done got in dere and he wouldn't let
+me out.
+
+"White folks, dere was men layin' wantin' help, wantin' water, with
+blood runnin' out dem and de top or sides dere heads gone, great big
+holes in dem. I jes' promises de good Lawd if he jes' let me git out dat
+mess, I wouldn't run off no more, but I didn't know den he wasn't gwine
+let me out with jes' dat battle. He gwine give me plenty more, but dat
+battle ain't over yet, for nex' mornin' de Rebels 'gins shootin' and
+killin' lots of our men, and Gen. Woods ain't come, so Gen. Rosecran
+orders us to 'treat, and didn't have to tell me what he said, neither.
+De Rebels comes after us, shootin', and we runs off and leaves dat
+cannon what I was with settin' on de hill, and I didn't want dat thing
+nohow.
+
+"We kep' hotfootin' till we gits to Chattanooga and dere is where we
+stops. Here comes one dem Rebel generals with de big bunch of men and
+gits right on top of Look Out Mountain, right clost to Chattanooga, and
+wouldn't let us out. I don't know jes' how long, but a long time. Lots
+our hosses and mules starves to death and we eats some de hosses. We all
+like to starve to death ourselves. Chattanooga is in de bend de
+Tennessee River and on Look Out Mountain, on de east, am dem Rebels and
+could keep up with everything we done. After a long time a Gen. Thomas
+gits in some way. He finds de rough trail or wagon road round de
+mountain 'long de river and supplies and men comes by boat up de river
+to dis place and comes on into Chattanooga. More Union men kep' comin'
+and I guess maybe six or eight generals and dey gits ready to fight. It
+am long late in Fall or early winter.
+
+"Dey starts climbin' dis steep mountain and when us gits three-fourths
+de way up it am foggy and you couldn't see no place. Everything wet and
+de rocks am slick and dey 'gins fightin'. I 'spect some shoots dere own
+men, 'cause you couldn't see nothin', jes' men runnin' and de guns
+roarin'. Fin'ly dem Rebels fled and we gits on Look Out Mountain and
+takes it.
+
+"Dere a long range of hills leadin' 'way from Look Out Mountain, nearly
+to Missionary Ridge. Dis ridge 'longside de Chickamauga River, what am
+de Indian name, meanin' River of Death. Dey fights de Rebels on Orchard
+Knob hill and I wasn't in dat, but I's in de Missionary Ridge battle. We
+has to come out de timber and run 'cross a strip or openin' up de hill.
+Dey sho' kilt lots our men when we runs 'cross dat openin'. We runs for
+all we's worth and uses guns or anything we could. De Rebels turns and
+runs off and our soldiers turns de cannons round what we's capture, and
+kilt some de Rebels with dere own guns.
+
+"I never did git to where I wasn't scart when we goes into de battle.
+Dis de last one I's in and I's sho' glad, for I never seed de like of
+dead and wounded men. We picks dem up, de Rebels like de Unions, and
+doctors dem de bes' we could. When I seed all dat sufferin', I hopes I
+never lives to see 'nother war. Dey say de World War am worse but I's
+too old to go.
+
+"I sho' wishes lots of times I never run off from de plantation. I begs
+de General not to send me on any more battles, and he says I's de coward
+and sympathizes with de South. But I tells him I jes' couldn't stand to
+see all dem men layin' dere dyin' and hollerin' and beggin' for help and
+a drink of water, and blood everywhere you looks. Killin' hawgs back on
+de plantation didn't bother me none, but dis am diff'rent.
+
+"Fin'ly de General tells me I can go back to Chattanooga and guard de
+supplies in camp dere and take care de wounded soldiers and prisoners. A
+bunch of men is with me and we has all we can do. We gits de orders to
+send supplies to some general and it my job to help load de wagons or
+box cars or boats. A train of wagons leaves sometimes. We gits all dem
+supplies by boat, and Chattanooga am de 'stributing center. When winter
+comes, everybody rests awhile and waits for Spring to open. De Union
+general sends in some more cullud soldiers. Dere ain't been many cullud
+men but de las' year de war dere am lots. De North and de South am
+takin' anything dey can git to win de war.
+
+"When Spring breaks and all de snow am gone, and de trees 'gins puttin'
+out and everything 'gins to look purty and peaceable-like, makin' you
+think you ought to be plowin' and plantin' a crop, dat when de fightin'
+starts all over 'gain, killin' men and burnin' homes and stealin' stock
+and food. Den dey sends me out to help clear roads and build temp'rary
+bridges. We walks miles on muddy ground, 'cross rivers, wadin' water up
+to our chins. We builds rafts and pole bridges to git de mules and
+hosses and cannons 'cross, and up and down hills, and cuts roads through
+timber.
+
+"But when dey wants to battle Gen. Thomas allus leaves me in camp to
+tend de supplies. He calls me a coward, and I sho' glad he thunk I was.
+I wasn't no coward, I jes' couldn't stand to see all dem people tore to
+pieces. I hears 'bout de battle in a thick forest and de trees big as my
+body jes' shot down. I seed dat in de Missionary Ridge battle, too.
+
+"I shifts from one camp to 'nother and fin'ly gits back to Chattanooga.
+I bet durin' my time I handles 'nough ammunition to kill everybody in de
+whole United States. I seed mos' de mainest generals in de Union Army
+and some in de Rebel Army.
+
+"After de war am over we's turned loose, nowhere to go and nobody to
+help us. I couldn't go South, for dey calls me de traitor and sho' kill
+me iffen dey knows I fit for de North. I does any little job I can git
+for 'bout a year and fin'ly gits work on de railroad, in Stevenson, in
+Alabama. I gits transfer to Chattanooga and works layin' new tracks and
+turn tables and sich.
+
+"In 'bout two weeks I had saw a gal next door, but I's bashful. But
+after payday I dresses up and takes her to a dance. We sparks 'bout two
+months and den we's married at her uncles. Her name am Nancy. We buys a
+piece of land and I has a two-room house built on it. We has two chillen
+and I's livin' with de baby gal now.
+
+"I 'lieve de slaves I knowed as a whole was happier and better off after
+'mancipation dan befo'. Of course, de first few years it was awful hard
+to git 'justed to de new life. All de slaves knowed how to do hard work,
+and dat de old slaves life, but dey didn't know nothin' 'bout how to
+'pend on demselves for de livin'. My first year was hard, but dere was
+plenty wild game in dem days. De south was broke and I didn't hear of no
+slaves gittin' anything but to crop on de halves. Dey too glad to be
+free and didn't want nothin'.
+
+"Things 'gin to git bad for me in Chattanooga as de white men finds out
+I run off from de South and jined de North. Some de brakemen try to git
+my job. I fin'ly quits when one of dem opens a switch I jus' closed. I
+seed him and goes back and fixes de switch, but I quits de job. I goes
+up north but dey ain't int'rested, so I comes back and sells my home and
+buys me a team and wagon. I loads it with my wife and chillen and a few
+things and starts for Texas. We's on de road 'bout six weeks or two
+months. We fishes and hunts every day and de trip didn't cost much. I
+buys ninety acres in timber in Cass County and cuts logs for a house and
+builds a two-room house and log crib. My wife built a stomp lot for de
+team and cow and a rail fence.
+
+"We got 'nough land cleared for de small crop, 'bout thirty acres, and
+builds de barn and sheds outselves. We lived there till de chillen am
+growed. My wife died of chills and fever and den my boy and I built a
+four-room house of planks from our timber. Den I gits lonesome, 'cause
+de chillen gone, and sells de place. I bought it for fifty cents de acre
+and sold it for $12.00 de acre.
+
+"I buys sixty acres in Henderson County for $15.00 a acre and marries de
+second time. I didn't care for her like Nancy. All she think 'bout am
+raisin' de devil and never wants to work or save anything. She like to
+have broke me down befo' I gits rid of her. I stayed and farmed sev'ral
+years.
+
+"My son-in-law rents land in Chambers Creek bottom, and he usually gits
+he crop 'fore de flood gits it. We has some hawgs to kill ev'ry winter
+and we has our cornmeal and milk and eggs and chickens, so de 'pression
+ain't starved us yit. We all got might' nigh naked durin' de 'pression.
+I feeds de hawgs and chickens night and mornin'. I can't see dem, but I
+likes to listen to dem eatin' and cackle. People don't know how dey's
+blessed with good eyes, till dey loses dem. Everybody ought to be more
+thankful dan they is.
+
+"I ain't never voted in my life. I leans to de 'publicans. I don't know
+much 'bout politics, though.
+
+"Today I is broke, 'cause I spent all my money for med'cine and doctors,
+but I gits a small pension and I spends it mos' careful.
+
+
+
+
+420270
+
+
+     ELI COLEMAN, 91, was born a slave of George Brady, in Kentucky.
+     Eli's memory is poor and his story is somewhat sketchy. He now
+     lives in Madisonville, Texas.
+
+
+"I has a old bill of sale, and it shows I's born in 1846 and my massa am
+George Brady. I know my pappy's name was same as mine, and mammy was
+Ella, and I had one brother named Sam, and my sisters was Sadie and Rosa
+and Viola. They's all dead now.
+
+"Pappy was owned by Massa Coleman, what was brother to Massa Brady.
+Pappy could only see mammy once a week when he's courtin' for her. I
+heard pappy tell 'bout his pappy, over in Africy, and he had near a
+hundred wives and over three hundred chillen.
+
+"Pappy never did work. All he ever did was trade. He'd make one thing
+and 'nother and trade it for something to eat. He could get lots of
+fruit and game out of the woods them days, and there was lots of fish.
+
+"Our log house was built of logs, trimmed, and had six rooms. It was
+long, like a cowbarn or chicken house, and my room was third. We had one
+door to each room, covered over with hides. We dug out one corner for
+the bed and fenced it up and gathered straw and moss and tore-up corn
+shucks, and put in the corner to sleep on. What I mean, it was a warm
+bed.
+
+"We did all kinds of work, choppin' cotton and split rails and cut rock,
+and work in the tobacco field. We'd cut that tobacco and hang it in the
+shed to dry. It had to be hanged by the stubble end.
+
+"We had plenty to eat, sech as corn pones. The corn was grated by hand
+and cooked in ashes, and no salt or soda or fancy things like they put
+in bread now.
+
+"There was possum and rabbit and we cooked them different to now. A
+great big, old pot hung over the old rock fireplace. Food cooked that
+way still eats good. Massa Brady allus give us lots out of the garden.
+He fed us reg'lar on good, 'stantial food, jus' like you'd tend to you
+hoss, if you had a real good one.
+
+"Massa Brady, he was one these jolly fellows and a real good man, allus
+good to his black folks. Missy, she was plumb angel. They lived in a old
+stone house with four big rooms. It was the best house in the whole
+county and lots of shade trees by it.
+
+"We had 'bout a hundred acres in our plantation and started to the field
+'fore daylight and worked long as we could see, and fed ane stock and
+got to bed 'bout nine o'clock. Massa whopped a slave if he got stubborn
+or lazy. He whopped one so hard that slave said he'd kill him. So Massa
+done put a chain round his legs, so he jus' hardly walk, and he has to
+work in the field that way. At night he put 'nother chain round his neck
+and fastened it to a tree. After three weeks massa turnt him loose and
+that the proudes' nigger in the world, and the hardes' workin' nigger
+massa had after that.
+
+"On Saturday night we could git a pass or have a party on our own place.
+Through the week we'd fall into our quarters and them patterrollers come
+walk all over us, and we'd be plumb still, but after they done gone some
+niggers gits up and out.
+
+"On Christmas Day massa make a great big eggnog and let us have all we
+wants with a big dinner. He kilt a yearlin' and made plenty barbecue for
+us.
+
+"Massa was a colonel in the war and took me along to care for his hoss
+and gun. Them guns, you couldn't hear nothin' for them poppin'. Us
+niggers had to go all over and pick up them what got kilt. Them what was
+hurt we carried back. Them what was too bad hurt we had to carry to the
+burying place and the white man'd finish killin' them, so we could roll
+them in the hole.
+
+"When massa say we're free, we all 'gun to take on. We didn't have no
+place to go and asked massa could we stay, but he say no. But he did let
+some stay and furnished teams and something to eat and work on the
+halves. I stayed and was sharecropper, and that was when slavery start,
+for when we got our cop made it done take every bit of it to pay our
+debts and we had nothing left to buy winter clothes or pay doctor bills.
+
+"'Bout a year after the war I marries Nora Brady, jus' a home weddin'. I
+asks her to come live with me as my wife and she 'greed and she jus'
+moved her clothes to my room and we lived together a long time. One
+mornin' Nora jus' died, and there warn't no chillen, so I sets out for
+Texas. I done hear the railroad is buildin' in Texas and they hires lots
+of niggers. I gits a hoss from massa and rolls up a few clothes and gits
+my gun.
+
+"I never got very far 'fore the Indians takes my hoss away from me. It
+was 'bout fifty mile to a train and I didn't have no money, but I found
+a white man what wants wood cut and I works near a month for him and
+gits $2.00. I gits on a train and comes a hundred mile from where that
+railroad was goin' 'cross the country, and I has to walk near all that
+hundred miles. Once and now a white man comin' or goin' lets me ride.
+But I got there and the job pays me sixty cents a day. That was lots of
+money them days. Near as I 'member, it was 1867 or 1868 when I comes to
+Texas.
+
+"Then I marries Agnes Frazer, and we has a big weddin' and a preacher
+and a big supper for two or three weeks. Her pappy kilt game and we et
+barbecue all the time. We had eleven chillen, one a year for a long
+time, five boys and six gals. One made a school teacher and I ain't seen
+her nearly forty-five years, 'cause she done took a notion to go north
+and they won't let her back in Texas 'cause she married a white man in
+New York. I don't like that. She don't have no sense or she wouldn't
+done that, no, sir.
+
+"Since the nigger been free it been Hell on the poor old nigger. He has
+advance some ways, but he's still a servant and will be, long as Gawd's
+curse still stay on the Negro race. We was turnt loose without nothin'
+and done been under the white man rule so long we couldn't hold no job
+but labor. I worked most two years on that railroad and the rest my life
+I farms. Now I gits a little pension from the gov'ment and them white
+folks am sho' good to give it to me, 'cause I ain't good for work no
+more.
+
+
+
+
+420003
+
+
+[Illustration: Preely Coleman]
+
+
+     PREELY COLEMAN was born in 1852 on the Souba farm, near New Berry,
+     South Carolina, but he and his mother were sold and brought to
+     Texas when Preely was a month old. They settled near Alto, Texas.
+     Preely now lives in Tyler.
+
+
+"I'm Preely Coleman and I never gits tired of talking. Yes, ma'am, it am
+Juneteenth, but I'm home, 'cause I'm too old now to go on them
+celerabrations. Where was I born? I knows that 'zactly, 'cause my mammy
+tells me that a thousand times. I was born down on the old Souba place,
+in South Carolina, 'bout ten mile from New Berry. My mammy belonged to
+the Souba family, but its a fact one of the Souba boys was my pappy and
+so the Soubas sells my mammy to Bob and Dan Lewis and they brung us to
+Texas 'long with a big bunch of other slaves. Mammy tells me it was a
+full month 'fore they gits to Alto, their new home.
+
+"When I was a chile I has a purty good time, 'cause there was plenty
+chillen on the plantation. We had the big races. Durin' the war the
+sojers stops by on the way to Mansfield, in Louisiana, to git somethin'
+to eat and stay all night, and then's when we had the races. There was a
+mulberry tree we'd run to and we'd line up and the sojers would say,
+'Now the first one to slap that tree gits a quarter,' and I nearly allus
+gits there first. I made plenty quarters slappin' that old mulberry
+tree!
+
+"So the chillen gits into their heads to fix me, 'cause I wins all the
+quarters. They throws a rope over my head and started draggin down the
+road, and down the hill, and I was nigh 'bout choked to death. My only
+friend was Billy and he was a-fightin', tryin' to git me loose. They was
+goin' to throw me in the big spring at the foot of that hill, but we
+meets Capt. Berryman, a white man, and he took his knife and cut the
+rope from my neck and took me by the heels and soused me up and down in
+the spring till I come to. They never tries to kill me any more.
+
+"My mammy done married John Selman on the way to Texas, no cere'mony,
+you knows, but with her massa's consent. Now our masters, the Lewises,
+they loses their place and then the Selman's buy me and mammy. They pays
+$1,500 for my mammy and I was throwed in.
+
+"Massa Selman has five cabins in he backyard and they's built like half
+circle. I grows big 'nough to hoe and den to plow. We has to be ready
+for the field by daylight and the conk was blowed, and massa call out,
+'All hands ready for the field.' At 11:30 he blows the conk, what am the
+mussel shell, you knows, 'gain and we eats dinner, and at 12:30 we has
+to be back at work. But massa wouldn't 'low no kind of work on Sunday.
+
+"Massa Tom made us wear the shoes, 'cause they's so many snags and
+stumps our feets gits sore, and they was red russet shoes. I'll never
+forgit 'em, they was so stiff at first we could hardly stand 'em. But
+Massa Tom was a good man, though he did love he dram. He kep' the bottle
+in the center of the dining table all the time and every meal he'd have
+the toddy. Us slaves et out under the trees in summer and in the kitchen
+in winter and most gen'rally we has bread in pot liquor or milk, but
+sometimes honey.
+
+"I well 'members when freedom come. We was in the field and massa comes
+up and say, 'You all is free as I is.' There was shoutin' and singin'
+and 'fore night us was all 'way to freedom.
+
+
+
+
+420292
+
+
+     HARRIET COLLINS was born in Houston, Texas, in 1870. Her family had
+     been slaves of Richard Coke, and remained with him many years after
+     they were freed. Harriet recalls some incidents of Reconstruction
+     days, and believes in the superstitions handed down to her from
+     slave days.
+
+
+"My birthday done come in January, on de tenth. I's birthed in Houston,
+in 1870, and Gov. Richard Coke allus had owned my daddy and mammy, and
+dey stayed with him after freedom. Mammy, what was Julia Collins, didn't
+die till 1910, and she was most a hundred year old.
+
+"She done told me many a time 'bout how folkses git all worked up over
+Marse Coke's 'lection. Mammy took lunch to de Capitol House to Marse
+Richard, and dere he am on de top floor with all he congressmen and dat
+Davis man and he men on de bottom floor, tryin' to say Marse Richard
+ain't got no right to be governor dis here State. Old Miss and de
+folkses didn't sleep a wink dat night, 'cause dey thunk it sho' be a
+fight. Dat in 1873, Mammy allus say.
+
+"De old place at Houston was like most all old places. Dere was little,
+small dormer windows, dey call 'em, in upstairs, and big porches
+everywhere. Dere was 'hogany furniture and rosewood bedsteads, and big,
+black walnut dressers with big mirrors and little ones down de side. Old
+Miss allus have us keep de drapes white as drifted snow, and polish de
+furniture till it shine. Dere was sofies with dem claw foots, and lots
+of purty chiny and silver.
+
+"On de farm out from town dere was de log house, with quarters and de
+smokehouse and washhouse and big barns and carriage house. De quarters
+was little, whitewashed, log houses, one for de family, and a fence of
+de split palin's round most of dem.
+
+"De white and cullud chillen played together, all over de place. Dey
+went fishin' and rode de plough hosses and run de calves and colts and
+sech devilment. De little white gals all had to wear sunbonnets, and Old
+Miss, she sew dem bonnets on every day, so dey not git sunburnt. Us
+niggers weared de long, duckin' shirts till us git 'bout growed, and den
+us weared long, dark blue dresses. Dey had spinnin' and weavin' rooms,
+where de cullud women makes de clothes.
+
+"Old Miss, she sho' a powerful manager. She knowed jes' how much meal
+and meat and sorghum it gwine take to run de plantation a year. She know
+jes' how much thread it take for spinnin', and she bossed de settin'
+hens and turkeys and fixin' of 'serves and soap. She was sho' good to
+you iffen you work and do like she tell you. Many a night she go round
+to see dat all was right. She a powerful good nuss, too, and so was
+mammy.
+
+"De white folks had good times. Dey'd go hossback ridin' and on picnics,
+and fishin' and have big dinners and balls. Come Christmas, dey have us
+slaves cut a big lot of wood and keep fires all night for a week or two.
+De house be lit with candles from top to toe, and lots of company come.
+For dinner us have turkey and beef roast and a big 'ginny ham and big
+bowls of eggnog and a pitcher of apple cider and apple toddy. All us git
+somethin' on Christmas and plenty eggnog, but no gittin' drunk.
+
+"I can jes' see Marse Dick, tall and kinder stooped like, with de big
+flop hat and longtail coat and allus carryin' a big, old walkin' stick.
+He was sho' a brave man and de big men say dey likes dat flop hat,
+'cause dey done follow it on de battlefield. He had a big voice and dey
+do tell how, in de war, he'd holler, 'Come on, boys,' and de bullets be
+like hail and men fallin' all round, but dat don't stop Marse Dick. He'd
+take off dat flop hat and plunge right on and dey'd foller he bald head
+where de fight was hottes'. He was sho' a man!
+
+"When I gits married it was eight folkses dere, I jus' walks off and
+goes to housekeepin'. I had a calico dress and a Baptist preacher
+marries us.
+
+"Dere been some queer things white folks can't understand. Dere am
+folkses can see de spirits, but I can't. My mammy larned me a lots of
+doctorin', what she larnt from old folkses from Africy, and some de
+Indians larnt her. If you has rheumatism, jes' take white sassafras root
+and bile it and drink de tea. You makes lin'ment by bilin' mullein
+flowers and poke roots and alum and salt. Put red pepper in you shoes
+and keep de chills off, or string briars round de neck. Make red or
+black snakeroot tea to cure fever and malaria, but git de roots in de
+spring when de sap am high.
+
+"When chillen teethin' put rattlesnake rattles round de neck, and
+alligator teeth am good, too. Show de new moon money and you'll have
+money all month. Throw her five kisses and show her money and make five
+wishes and you'll git dem. Eat black-eyed peas on New Year and have luck
+all dat year:
+
+"'Dose black-eyed peas is lucky,
+When et on New Year's Day;
+You'll allus have sweet 'taters
+And possum come you way.'
+
+"When anybody git cut I allus burns woolen rags and smokes de wound or
+burns a piece fat pine and drops tar from it on scorched wool and bind
+it on de wound. For headache put a horseradish poultice on de head, or
+wear a nutmeg on a string round you neck.
+
+If you kills de first snake you sees in spring, you enemies ain't gwine
+git de best of you dat year. For a sprain, git a dirt dauber's nest and
+put de clay with vinegar and bind round de sprain. De dime on de string
+round my ankle keeps cramps out my leg, and tea from red coon-root good,
+too. All dese doctorin' things come clear from Africy, and dey allus
+worked for mammy and for me, too.
+
+
+
+
+420187
+
+
+     ANDREW (Smoky) COLUMBUS was born in 1859 on the John J. Ellington
+     plantation, one mile south of Linden, Texas. He continued in the
+     service of the Ellingtons until about 1878, when he moved to
+     Jefferson, Texas. He carried meals to Abe Rothchild, who was in
+     jail, charged with the murder of Diamond Bessie Moore. Andrew was
+     37 years a servant of Hon. Tom Armistead, and was a porter in the
+     Capital at Austin when Armistead was a senator. Andrew now lives in
+     Marshall, Texas.
+
+
+"I was bo'n a slave of Master John Ellington, who lived in Davis County
+(now Cass Co.), Texas. Master John had a big house and close by was a
+long, double row of slave quarters. It looked like a town. There was
+four boys and two girls in Master's fam'ly and one daughter, Miss Lula,
+married Lon Morris, that run the Lon Morris School.
+
+"Master John was one white man that sho' took care of his niggers. He
+give us plenty warm clothes and good shoes, and come see us and had Dr.
+Hume doctor us when we was sick. The niggers et ham and middlin' and
+good eats as anybody. Master John's place joined the Haggard place,
+where they was lots of wild turkey and the slaves could go huntin' and
+fishin' when they wanted.
+
+"We had a church and a school for the slaves and the white folks helped
+us git book learnin'. Mos' of the niggers allus went to preachin' on
+Sunday.
+
+"The hands didn't work Saturday afternoons. That's when we'd wash our
+clothes and clean up for Sunday. There was parties and dances on
+Saturday night for them as wanted them. But there wasn't no whiskey
+drinkin' and fightin' at the parties. Mammy didn't go to them. She was
+religious and didn't believe in dancin' and sech like. On Christmas
+Master John allus give the slaves a big dinner and it didn't seem like
+slavery time. The niggers had a sight better time than they do now.
+
+"Master John did all the bossin' hisself. None of his niggers ever run
+off 'cause he was too good for them to do that. I only got one whippin'
+from him and it was for stealin' eggs from a hen's nest. My pappy was
+carriage driver for Master. I didn't do much of the work when I was a
+boy, jes' stayed round the house.
+
+"Master John raised lots of cotton and after it was baled he hauled it
+to Jefferson on ox wagons. I'd allus go with him, ridin' on top of the
+bales. I'll never forgit how scared I was when we'd cross Black Cypress
+on Roger's Ferryboat and it'd begin to rock.
+
+"I don't remember much about the War. When it was over Master John calls
+all his slaves together and says, 'You'se free now and you can go or
+stay.' He told the men who wanted to leave they could have a wagon and
+team, but most of them stayed. Pappy took a wagon and team and left but
+mammy and us children stayed and lived with Master Ellington 'bout 15
+years after the war was over.
+
+"When I left Master John I moved to Jefferson and married Cora Benton
+and we had three boys and two girls. While I was in Jefferson Sheriff
+Vine goes to Cincinnati after Abe Rothchild, for killin' 'Diamond
+Bessie.' Abe shot hisself in the forehead when he heared Sheriff Vine
+was after him, but it didn't kill him. There was sho' some stirrin'
+about when the sheriff fotch Abe back to Jefferson.
+
+"Mr. Sam Brown was the jailer. Abe wouldn't eat the jail food and hired
+me to bring his meals to him from the hotel. His cell was fixed up like
+a hotel room, with a fine brussels rug and nice tables and chairs. He
+kep' plenty of whiskey and beer to drink. He'd allus give me a drink
+when I took his meals.
+
+"I worked 37 years for Mr. Tom Armistead, who helped W.T. Crawford and
+his brother defend Rothchild. Mr. Eppenstadt, he was mayor of Jefferson
+then and acted as a go-between man in the case.
+
+"Master Tom Armistead never married and I kep' house and cooked for him.
+He give me lots of fine clothes. I bet I owned more fine shirts than any
+nigger in Texas. He got me a job as porter in the Capitol at Austin
+while he was senator. I was workin' there when they moved in the new
+Capitol in 1888. They was gonna put on a big party and say all the
+porters had to wear cutaway suits. I didn't have one, so the day 'fore
+the party I goes over to Mr. Tom's room at the Bristol Hotel and git one
+of his. I didn't know then it was a right new one he had made for the
+party. When I goes back to the Capitol all dressed up in that cutaway
+suit, I meets Mr. Templeton Houston and he recognises the suit and says.
+'You sho' look fine in Mr. Tom's new suit,' 'bout that time Mr. Tom
+walks up and, you know, he give me that suit and had him another one
+made for the party! I wouldn't live where there wasn't no good white
+folks.
+
+
+
+
+420218
+
+
+[Illustration: Steve Conally]
+
+[Illustration: Steve Conally's House]
+
+
+     STEVE CONNALLY, 90, was born a slave of Tom Connally, grandfather
+     of United States Senator Tom Connally, from Texas. The family then
+     lived in Georgia, and Steve's master was a member of the Georgia
+     Legislature.
+
+
+"I was born in Murray County, Georgia, and was a slave of Massa Tom
+Connally, but they called him Massa "Cushi" Connally. He was a member of
+de Georgia Legislature. I stayed with Missy Mary Connally till I was
+sixty-seven and Massa Cushi died when I was sixty-nine.
+
+"My mother, Mandy, weighed two hundred pounds and she was de Connally
+cook. When I was born, she took de fever and couldn't raise me, so Missy
+Mary took and kep' me in a li'l cot by her bed. After dat, I'm with her
+nearly all de time and follows her. When she go to de garden I catches
+her dresstail and when she go to de doctor, 'bout eighty miles away, I
+goes with her.
+
+"I mus' tell you why everybody call Massa Connally Cushi. Dere am allus
+so many Tom Connallys in de fam'ly, dey have to have de nickname to tell
+one from de other.
+
+"Back dere in Georgia, us have lots and lots of fruit. Come time, de
+women folks preserves and cans till it ain't no use. My mammy take de
+prize any day with her jelly and sech, and her cakes jes' nachelly walk
+off and leave de whole county. Missy Mary sho' de master hand hersef at
+de fine bakin' and I'd slip round and be handy to lick out de pans.
+
+"Dey didn't have no 'frigerators den, but dey built log houses without a
+floor over de good, cold spring, and put flat rocks dere to keep de milk
+and cream and butter cold. Or dey dig out de place so de crock be down
+in de wet dirt. Dey sho' have to make de latch up high, so de bad
+chillen couldn't open dat door!
+
+"De plantation in Georgia was de whopper. I don't know 'zactly how many
+acres, but it a big one. Us make everything and tan hides and make
+shoes, jes' like all de big places did. De big house and de weavin'
+house and de tannin' yard and de sugar mill and slave quarters made a
+li'l town. Dere used to be some mighty big doin's dere. De Connally men
+and women am allus good lookers and mighty pop'lar, and folkses come
+from far and near to visit dem. All de 'portant men come and all de
+sassiety belles jes' drift to our place. Dere sho' lots of big balls and
+dinners and de house fix mighty fine dem times. De women wore de hoop
+skirts and de ribbons and laces. My missy was de bes' lookin' from far
+and near, and all de gem'mans want to dance with her. She sho' look like
+de queen you see in de picture books and she have mighty high ways with
+folks, but she's mighty good to dis here li'l black boy.
+
+"I goes in de buggy with Massa Cushi, up to Tennessee, to git his sons
+what been kilt or wounded. Massa Ned, he dead, and Massa Charles, he
+shot in de hip, and die after he git brung home. Massa Dick hurt, too,
+but he didn't die.
+
+"Right after de Civil War, when I'm 'bout nineteen, I comes to Texas
+with de Connallys, all what didn't git kilt in de war. I stays with
+Missy Mary till she die in Georgia. Her son, Jones Connally, come to
+Brazos County, near Bryan, and after dat removes to Eddy. I works for
+him two years and has lived round Eddy ever since. De Connallys give me
+a house and lot in Eddy. Some de fool niggers 'spected a lot, but I
+wasn't worryin' none. All I wanted was to stay near de Connallys. Mos'
+gen'ly all de slaves what I knowed was found places for and holp git a
+start at jobs and places to live. All de Connally slaves loved dem. Some
+de timber land give to Mrs. Rose Staten and when she go up dere a old
+nigger woman name Lucy sees her. She so happy to see one dem Connally
+chillen she laugh and cry.
+
+"Massa Jones Connally have de twin gals, name Ola and Ella. Olla born
+with de lef' arm off at de elbow and she allus follow me round. When I
+go to milk I puts her in de trough. I saved her life lots of times. One
+time she's on de conb of de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years
+old. I eases up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me.
+'Nother time, I's diggin' de well and some clods falls down and I looks
+up and dere am dat Missy Ola leanin' over, mos' tumblin' in de well on
+her head. I gives de loud yell and her brother-in-law come runnin' and
+grabs her legs.
+
+"Senator Tom Connally, what am a son of Jones Connally, often says he'd
+like to visit his grandpa's old home in Georgia. I'd like mighty well to
+go with him and take him all over de old home place and out to de old
+cemetary."
+
+
+
+
+420079
+
+
+[Illustration: Valmar Cormier]
+
+
+     VALMAR CORMIER was born a slave to Duplissent Dugat, a small
+     slave-holder of Lafayette, Louisiana. He tells his story in a
+     mixture of English and French. As far as he knows, he is nearly 90
+     years old. He now lives with his sister, Mary Moses, in the Pear
+     Orchard Settlement, in Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"I 'member de day my old marster go to de war. I kin 'member dat jes'
+like yesterday. He used to like to play de fiddle and make me dance when
+I was li'l, but he went to de war and got kilt. He name Duplissent
+Dugat. Mary, my sister, she don't 'member de old marster.
+
+"De slaves did de work on dat farm. Dey was two growed-ups, my mama,
+Colaste, and my uncle, and dere was us two chillen. My father was a
+white man, a white Creole man. I never carry he name till after freedom.
+
+"Marster was jes' a poor man and he have jes' a ordinary house. De slave
+house was jes' a old plank house 'bout twelve feet by twenty feet and
+have dirt floor. Us cook in de big fireplace and take a log 'bout four
+foot long and have a big iron pot with a iron lid. Dey put red hot coals
+under de pot and on top de lid and dey have a big iron poker with a hook
+on it what dey took de lid off with.
+
+"Befo' dey have coal oil lamp dey used to use homemake candles. Dey'd
+kill de brutes and keep and save all de tallow and one day was set off
+to make de candles. All de neighbors come and dey have kind of party and
+eat and things. Sometime dey make three, four hunnerd candles in one day
+and lay dem in a big box, so dey won't git break.
+
+"Us make soap on de plantation, too. Dey melt de tallow and cracklin's
+and git lye out de fireplace ash. We have cotton and corn and potatoes
+growin', so we has plenty to eat. Us have coosh-coosh, dat cornbread and
+meat, and some fish to eat. Snails us jes' go through de woods and pick
+dem up and eat dem jes' like dat. Us eat plenty crawfish. De chillen git
+string and old piece fat meat and tie on de end, and us go to de bog and
+drap de string down dat crawfish hole. When de old man grab de meat with
+he pincher, den us jerk us up a crawfish, and bile him in hot water, or
+make de gumbo.
+
+"Us drink French coffee befo' de war, but endurin' de war us couldn't
+git de good kind. Den us make coffee out of coffee weed. Dey parch dat
+weed in de iron oven, grind it and put it in de iron pot.
+
+"I seed de sojers and I run under de house, I was so scared. Mary, she
+hide under de bed in de house. De Yankees come take de cattle and went
+'way with dem. I kin sho' rec'lect when dose sojers come and de road was
+full goin' day and night. De Yankees find a lot of Confed'rate sojers
+close to Duson, de other side of Rayne and dey captures lots and brung
+dem back by dere.
+
+"After while it all over and dey told us we free, but my mama kep'
+working for old missus after freedom, 'cause old marster, he kilt in dat
+war. Den old missus die and left three li'l chillen, but I don't know
+what happen to them, 'cause us go to another place and I plow and Mary
+she he'p pick cotton.
+
+"I git marry at 20 and my first wife de French gal. We marry by de
+priest in de church. Us have so many chillen us have to keep a map to
+account for all dem, dere was 19 in all. We stays in Louisiana long
+time, den come to Texas.
+
+
+
+
+420296
+
+
+     LAURA CORNISH was born on the plantation of Isaiah Day, near
+     Dayton, Texas. She "reckons I's 'bout twelve or maybe thirteen
+     years old when all de cullud folks was made free." Laura's memory
+     is poor, but she made an effort to recall slave days. She lives at
+     2915 Nance St., Houston, Texas.
+
+
+"Lawd have mercy 'pon me, when you calls me Aunt Laura it seems jes'
+like you must be some of my white folks, 'cause dat what dey calls me. I
+mean Papa Day's chillen and dere younguns, when dey comes to see me. But
+it been de long time since any of dem come to see old Aunt Laura, and I
+reckon dey most all gone now.
+
+"You know where Dayton is at? Well, dat's where Papa Day's plantation
+was at and where I's borned. I don't know when dat am, 'zactly, but when
+all de cullud folks was made free, I reckons I's 'bout twelve or
+thirteen years old.
+
+"Mama's name was Maria Dunlap and daddy's name was Saul. Mamma was de
+seamstress and don't do nothin' but weave cloth on de spinnin' wheel and
+make clothes. Daddy from Lake Providence, I heared him say, but I don't
+know where at dat is. He do all de carpenter work. I has five sisters
+and two brothers, but dey heaps older dan me and I don't know much 'bout
+dem.
+
+"We 'longs to Papa Day, his name Isaiah, but us all call him Papa Day,
+'cause he won't 'low none he cullud folks to call him master. He say us
+is born free as he is, only de other white folks won't tell us so, and
+our souls is jes' as white, and de reason us am darker on de outside is
+'cause us is sunburnt. I don't reckon dere am anybody as good to dere
+cullud folks as he was.
+
+"Miss Martha, he wife, was mighty good, too. Does any us chillen git
+hurt or scratched, she fix us up and give us a hug. I knows dey has two
+boys and a gal, and dey comes to see me long time after I's free and
+brings dere own chillen. But my mem'ry am sort of foggy-like and I can't
+'member dere names now.
+
+"De only work Papa Day 'lows us chillen do am pick de boles close to de
+ground, and dat mostly fun, and us ride to de house on de wagon what
+takes de pickin' at night. Papa Day don't make he cullud folks work
+Saturdays and Sundays and dey can visit round on other plantations, and
+he say nobody better bother us none, either.
+
+"One time us chillen playin' out in de woods and seed two old men what
+look like wild men, sho' 'nough. Dey has long hair all over de face and
+dere shirts all bloody. Us run and tell Papa Day and he makes us take
+him dere and he goes in de briar patch where dem men hidin'. Dey takes
+him round de knees and begs him do he not tell dere massa where dey at,
+'cause dey maybe git kilt. Dey say dey am old Lodge and Baldo and dey
+run 'way 'cause dere massa whips dem, 'cause dey so old dey can't work
+good no more. Papa Day has tears comin' in he eyes. Dey can't hardly
+walk, so he sends dem to de house and has Aunt Mandy, de cook, fix up
+somethin' to eat quick. I never seed sech eatin', dey so hongry. He puts
+dem in a house and tells us not to say nothin'. Den he rides off on he
+hoss and goes to dere massa and tells him 'bout it, and jes' dares him
+to come git dem. He pays de man some money and Lodge and Baldo stays
+with Papa Day and I guess day thunk dey in Heaven.
+
+"One mornin' Papa Day calls all us to de house and reads de freedom
+papers and say, 'De gov'ment don't need to tell you you is free, 'cause
+you been free all you days. If you wants to stay you can and if you
+wants to go, you can. But if you go, lots of white folks ain't gwine
+treat you like I does.'
+
+"For de longest time, maybe two years, dey wasn't none of Papa Day's
+cullud folks what left, but den first one fam'ly den 'nother gits some
+land to make a crop on, and den daddy gits some land and us leaves, too.
+Maybe he gits de land from Papa Day, 'cause it an't far from his
+plantation. Us sho' work hard on dat place, but I heared mama say lots
+of times she wishes we stay on Papa Day's place.
+
+"I 'member one year us don't make no crop hardly and daddy say he gwine
+git out 'fore us starves to death, and he moves to Houston. He gits a
+job doin' carpenter work and hires me out for de housegirl. But mama
+dies and daddy takes sick and dies, too. Lawd have mercy, dat sho' de
+hard time for me when I loses my mama and daddy, and I has to go to
+Dayton and stay with my sister, Rachel. Both my husbands what I marries
+done been dead a long time now, and de only child I ever had died when
+he jes' a baby. Now I's jes' alone, sittin' and waitin' for de Lawd to
+call me."
+
+
+
+
+420260
+
+
+[Illustration: John Crawford]
+
+
+     JOHN CRAWFORD, 81, was born a slave on Judge Thompson Rector's
+     plantation at Manor, Texas. After emancipation, John was a
+     share-cropper. He has always lived in Travis County and is now
+     cared for by a daughter at Austin.
+
+
+"John Crawford am me. It am eighty-one years since I's borned and dat's
+on de old Rector plantation where Manor am now. It wasn't dere den. I
+knowed the man it was named after.
+
+"Ma's name was Viney Rector and the old judge brung her from Alabama.
+She milked all the cows two times a day and I had to turn out all de
+calves. Sometimes dey'd git purty rough and go right to dere mammies.
+
+"Pap's name was Tom Townes, 'cause he 'longed on de Townes place. He was
+my step-pap and when I's growed I tooken my own pap's name, what was
+Crawford. I never seed him, though, and didn't know nothin' much 'bout
+him. He's sold away 'fore I's borned.
+
+"Pap Townes could make most everythin'. He made turnin' plows and
+hossshoe nails and a good lot of furniture. He was purty good to me,
+'siderin' he wasn't my own pap. I didn't have no hard time, noway. I had
+plenty bacon and side-meat and 'lasses. Every Sunday mornin' the jedge
+give us our rations for de week. He wasn't short with dem, neither.
+
+"Many was de time Injuns come to Jedge Rector's place. Dem Injuns beg
+for somethin' and the jedge allus give dem somethin'. They wasn't mean
+Injuns, jes' allus beggin'.
+
+"I can't read and write to this day. Nobody ever larnt me my A B C's and
+I didn't git no chance at school.
+
+"On Christmas mornin' Massa Rector come out and give each man and woman
+a big, red pocket handkerchief and a bottle of liquor. He buyed dat
+liquor by de barrel and liked it hisself. Dat why he allus had it on de
+place.
+
+"One mornin' the jedge done send word down by de cook for nobody to go
+to de fields dat day. We all want up to de big house and de jedge git up
+to make de speech, but am too choke up to talk. He hated to lose he
+slaves, I reckon. So his son-in-law has to say, 'You folks am now free
+and can go where you wants to go. You can stay here and pick cotton and
+git fifty cents de hunerd.' But only two families stayed. De rest pulled
+out.
+
+"After freedom we rented land on de halves. Some niggers soon got ahead
+and rented on de third or fourth. When you rent that-a-way you git three
+bales and de boss git one. But you has to buy you own teams and seed and
+all on dat plan.
+
+"Its a fac' we was told we'd git forty acres and a mule. Dat de talk
+den, but we never did git it.
+
+"De Ku Klux made a lot of devilment round-about dat county. Dey allus
+chasin' some nigger and beatin' him up. But some dem niggers sho' 'serve
+it. When dey gits free, dey gits wild. Dey won't work or do nothin' and
+thinks dey don't have to. We didn't have no trouble, 'cause we stays on
+de farm and works and don't have no truck with dem wild niggers.
+
+"In 1877 I marries Fannie Black at de town of Sprinkle. It wasn't sech a
+town, jes' a li'l place. Me and her stayed married fifty-two years and
+four months. She died and left me eight year ago. We had seven chillen
+and they is all livin'. Four is here in Austin and two in California and
+one in Ohio.
+
+"I gits a li'l pension, $9.00 de month, and my gal, Susie, takes care of
+me. I ain't got long to go now 'fore de Lawd gwine call me.
+
+
+
+
+420076
+
+
+[Illustration: Green Cumby]
+
+
+     GREEN CUMBY, 86, was born a slave of the Robert H. Cumby family, in
+     Henderson, Texas. He was about 14 at the close of the Civil War. He
+     stayed with his old master four years after he was freed, then
+     married and settled in Tyler, Texas, where he worked for the
+     compress 30 years. He lives with his daughter at 749 Mesquite St.,
+     Abilene, Texas.
+
+
+"Durin' slavery I had purty rough times. My grandfather, Tater Cumby,
+was cullud overseer for forty slaves and he called us at four in de
+mornin' and we worked from sun to sun. Most of de time we worked on
+Sunday, too.
+
+"De white overseers whupped us with straps when we didn't do right. I
+seed niggers in chains lots of times, 'cause there wasn't no jails and
+they jus' chained 'em to trees.
+
+"Spec'lators on hosses drove big bunches of slaves past our place from
+one place to another, to auction 'em at de market places. De women would
+be carryin' l'il ones in dere arms and at night dey bed 'em down jus'
+like cattle right on de ground 'side of de road. Lots of l'il chillun
+was sold 'way from de mammy when dey seven or eight, or even smaller.
+Dat's why us cullud folks don't know our kinfolks to dis day.
+
+"De best times was when de corn shuckin' was at hand. Den you didn't
+have to bother with no pass to leave de plantation, and de patter rolls
+didn't bother you. If de patter rolls cotch you without de pass any
+other time, you better wish you dead, 'cause you would have yourself
+some trouble.
+
+"But de corn shuckin', dat was de gran' times. All de marsters and dere
+black boys from plantations from miles 'round would be dere. Den when we
+got de corn pile high as dis house, de table was spread out under de
+shade. All de boys dat 'long to old marster would take him on de
+packsaddle 'round de house, den dey bring him to de table and sit by he
+side; den all de boys dat 'long to Marster Bevan from another plantation
+take him on de packsaddle 'round and 'round de house, allus singin' and
+dancin', den dey puts him at de other side de table, and dey all do de
+same till everybody at de table, den dey have de feast.
+
+"To see de runaway slaves in de woods scared me to death. They'd try to
+snatch you and hold you, so you couldn't go tell. Sometimes dey cotched
+dem runaway niggers and dey be like wild animals and have to be tamed
+over 'gain. Dere was a white man call Henderson had 60 bloodhounds and
+rents 'em out to run slaves. I well rec'lect de hounds run through our
+place one night, chasin' de slave what kilt his wife by runnin' de
+harness needle through her heart. Dey cotch him and de patter rolls took
+him to Henderson and hangs him.
+
+"De patter rolls dey chases me plenty times, but I's lucky, 'cause dey
+never cotched me. I slips off to see de gal on de nex' plantation and I
+has no pass and they chases me and was I scairt! You should have seed me
+run through dat bresh, 'cause I didn't dare go out on de road or de
+path. It near tore de clothes off me, but I goes on and gits home and
+slides under de house. But I'd go to see dat gal every time, patter
+rolls or no patter rolls, and I gits trained so's I could run 'most as
+fast as a rabbit.
+
+"De white chillun larned us to read and write at night, but I never paid
+much 'tention, but I kin read de testament now. Other times at night de
+slaves gathers round de cabins in little bunches and talks till bedtime.
+Sometimes we'd dance and someone would knock out time for us by snappin'
+de fingers and slappin' de knee. We didn't have nothin' to make de music
+on.
+
+"We mos'ly lived on corn pone and salt bacon de marster give us. We
+didn't have no gardens ourselves, 'cause we wouldn't have time to work
+in dem. We worked all day in de fields and den was so tired we couldn't
+do nothin' more.
+
+"My mammy doctored us when we was feelin' bad and she'd take dog-fenley,
+a yaller lookin' weed, and brew tea, and it driv de chills and de fever
+out of us. Sometimes she put horse mint on de pallet with us to make us
+sweat and driv de fever 'way. For breakfast she'd make us sass' fras
+tea, to clear our blood.
+
+"My marstar and his two step-sons goes to de war. De marster was a big
+gen'ral on de southern side. I didn't know what dey fightin' 'bout for a
+long time, den I heered it 'bout freedom and I felt like it be Heaven
+here on earth to git freedom, 'spite de fac' I allus had de good
+marster. He sho' was good to us, but you knows dat ain't de same as
+bein' free.
+
+
+
+
+420124
+
+
+[Illustration: Tempie Cummins]
+
+
+     TEMPIE CUMMINS was born at Brookeland, Texas, sometime before the
+     Civil War, but does not know her exact age. William Neyland owned
+     Tempie and her parents. She now lives alone in a small,
+     weather-beaten shack in the South Quarters, a section of Jasper,
+     Tex.
+
+
+"They call me Tempie Cummins and I was born at Brookeland but I don'
+know jus' the 'xact date. My father's name was Jim Starkins and my
+mother's name was Charlotte Brooks and both of 'em come from Alabama. I
+had jus' one brudder, Bill, and four sisters named Margaret and Hannah
+and Mary and 'Liza. Life was good when I was with them and us play
+round. Miss Fannie Neyland, she Mis' Phil Scarborough now, she raise me,
+'cause I was give to them when I was eight year old.
+
+"I slep' on a pallet on the floor. They give me a homespun dress onct a
+year at Christmas time. When company come I had to run and slip on that
+dress. At other time I wore white chillens' cast-off clothes so wore
+they was ready to throw away. I had to pin them up with red horse thorns
+to hide my nakedness. My dress was usually split from hem to neck and I
+had to wear them till they was strings. Went barefoot summer and winter
+till the feets crack open.
+
+"I never seed my grandparents 'cause my mother she sold in Alabama when
+she's 17 and they brung her to Texas and treat her rough. At mealtime
+they hand me a piece of cornbread and tell me 'Run 'long.' Sometime I
+git little piece of meat and biscuit, 'bout onct a month. I gathered up
+scraps the white chillens lef'.
+
+"Marster was rough. He take two beech switches and twist them together
+and whip 'em to a stub. Many's the time I's bled from them whippin's.
+Our old mistus, she try to be good to us, I reckon, but she was turrible
+lazy. She had two of us to wait on her and then she didn' treat us good.
+
+"Marster had 30 or 40 acres and he raise cotton, and corn and 'tatoes.
+He used to raise 12 bales cotton a year and then drink it all up. We
+work from daylight till dark, and after. Marster punish them what didn'
+work hard enough.
+
+"The white chillen tries teach me to read and write but I didn' larn
+much, 'cause I allus workin'. Mother was workin' in the house, and she
+cooked too. She say she used to hide in the chimney corner and listen to
+what the white folks say. When freedom was 'clared, marster wouldn' tell
+'em, but mother she hear him tellin' mistus that the slaves was free but
+they didn' know it and he's not gwineter tell 'em till he makes another
+crop or two. When mother hear that she say she slip out the chimney
+corner and crack her heels together four times and shouts, 'I's free,
+I's free.' Then she runs to the field, 'gainst marster's will and tol'
+all the other slaves and they quit work. Then she run away and in the
+night she slip into a big ravine near the house and have them bring me
+to her. Marster, he come out with his gun and shot at mother but she run
+down the ravine and gits away with me.
+
+"I seed lots of ghosties when I's young. I couldn' sleep for them. I's
+kind of outgrowed them now. But one time me and my younges' chile was
+comin' over to church and right near the dippin' vat is two big gates
+and when we git to them, out come a big old white ox, with long legs and
+horns and when he git 'bout halfway, he turns into a man with a Panama
+hat on. He follers us to Sandy Creek bridge. Sometimes at night I sees
+that same spirit sittin' on that bridge now.
+
+"My old man say, in slavery time, when he's 21, he had to pass a place
+where patterroles whipped slaves and had kilt some. He was sittin' on a
+load of fodder and there come a big light wavin' down the road and
+scarin' the team and the hosses drag him and near kilt him.
+
+
+
+
+420070
+
+
+[Illustration: Adeline Cunningham]
+
+
+     ADELINE CUNNINGHAM, 1210 Florida St., born 1852, was a slave in
+     Lavaca County, 4-1/2 miles n.e. of Hallettsville. She was a slave
+     of Washington Greenlee Foley and his grandson, John Woods. The
+     Foley plantation consisted of several square leagues, each league
+     containing 4,428.4 acres. Adeline is tall, spare and primly erect,
+     with fiery brown eyes, which snap when she recalls the slave days.
+     The house is somewhat pretentious and well furnished. The day was
+     hot and the granddaughter prepared ice water for her grandmother
+     and the interviewer. House and porch were very clean.
+
+
+"I was bo'n on ole man Foley's plantation in Lavaca County. He's got
+more'n 100 slaves. He always buy slaves and he never sell. How many
+acres of lan' he got? Lawd, dat man ain't got acres, he got leagues. Dey
+raises cotton and co'n, and cattle and hawgs. Ole man Foley's plantation
+run over Lavaca and Colorado county, he got 1600 acres in one block and
+some of it on de Navidad River. Ole man Foley live in a big log house
+wid two double rooms and a hall, and he build a weavin' house agin his
+own house and dey's anudder house wid de spinnin' wheels. And ole man
+Foley run his own cotton gin and his own grindin' mill where dey grinds
+de co'n and dey got a big potato patch.
+
+"Dey was rough people and dey treat ev'ry body rough. We lives in de
+quarter; de houses all jine close togedder but you kin walk 'tween 'em.
+All de cabins has one room and mostly two fam'lies bunks togedder in de
+one room wid dirt floors. De slaves builds de cabins, de slaves got no
+money, dey got no land.
+
+"No suh, we never goes to church. Times we sneaks in de woods and prays
+de Lawd to make us free and times one of de slaves got happy and made a
+noise dat dey heered at de big house and den de overseer come and whip
+us 'cause we prayed de Lawd to set us free.
+
+"You know what a stockman is? He is a man dat buys and sells cattle.
+Ev'ry year de stockman comes to ole man Foley's and he lines us up in de
+yard and de stockman got a lotta slaves tied togedder and ole man Foley
+he buys some slaves but he won't sell none. Yassuh, de stockman buys and
+sells de slaves jes' de same as cattle.
+
+"Dey feeds us well sometimes, if dey warn't mad at us. Dey has a big
+trough jes' like de trough for de pigs and dey has a big gourd and dey
+totes de gourd full of milk and dey breaks de bread in de milk. Den my
+mammy takes a gourd and fills it and gives it to us chillun. How's we
+eat it? We had oyster shells for spoons and de slaves comes in from de
+fields and dey hands is all dirty, and dey is hungry. Dey dips de dirty
+hands right in de trough and we can't eat none of it. De women wuks in
+de fields until dey has chillun and when de chillun's ole enough to wuk
+in de fields den de mother goes to ole man Foley's house. Dere she's a
+house servant and wuks at spinnin' and weavin' de cotton. Dey makes all
+de clothes for ole man Foley and his fam'ly and for de slaves.
+
+"No suh, we ain't got no holidays. Sundays we grinds co'n and de men
+split rails and hoes wid de grubbin' hoe. Ole man Foley has a blacksmif
+shop and a slave does de blacksmiffin. De slaves builds cabins wid split
+logs and dey makes de roof tight wid co'n shucks and grass. One time a
+month, times one time in two months, dey takes us to de white folks
+church.
+
+"Dey's four or five preachers and de slaves. Iffen deys a marriage de
+preacher has a book. He's gotter keep it hid, 'cause dey's afraid iffen
+de slaves learns to read dey learns how to run away. One of de slaves
+runs away and dey ketches him and puts his eyes out. Dey catches anudder
+slave dat run away and dey hanged him up by de arm. Yassuh, I see dat
+wid my own eyes; dey holds de slave up by one arm, dey puts a iron on
+his knee and a iron on his feet and drag 'im down but his feet cain't
+reach de groun'.
+
+"Ole man Foley ain't bad, but de overseers is mean. No suh, we never
+gits no money and we never gits no lan'. Ole man Foley, he wants to give
+us sumpin for gardens but Mr. John Woods, his gran'son, is agin it.
+
+"Was I glad when dat was over? Wouldn' you be? It's long after we's free
+dat I gits married. Yassuh, and I live in San Antonio 'bout 20 years."
+
+
+
+
+420035
+
+
+[Illustration: Will Daily's House]
+
+[Illustration: Will Daily]
+
+
+     WILL DAILY, was born in 1858 in Missouri, near the city of St.
+     Louis. He was a slave of the John Daily family and served as chore
+     boy around the house, carried the breakfast to the field and always
+     drove up the horses on the plantation. The latter duty developed a
+     fondness for horses which led to a career as a race horse rider and
+     trainer. He remained with his white folks several years after
+     freedom and in Missouri many years longer in this work. He came to
+     San Angelo, Texas in 1922 and took up hotel work which he followed
+     until his health broke, only a few years ago. He now lives in his
+     small home, in the colored district of the city and depends on his
+     old age pension for a livelihood.
+
+
+"Huh! What you say, did you say somethin' 'bout de ole age pension?",
+questioned Will when approached on the slavery question, but he answered
+readily, "Sho! sho' I was a slave an' I aint ashamed to admit dat I
+was. Some of dese here fellers thinks dey sounds ole when dey says dey
+was slaves and dey denies it but I's proud enough of de good treatment
+I's got, to allus tell about it. My marster had a driver but he say his
+niggers was human, wid human feelin's, so he makes dat driver reports to
+him fer what little thrashin's we gits. Course we had to do de right
+thing but jes' some how did, mos' of de time 'cause he was good to us.
+Soon as I was big enough, about four or five years ole, ole miss, she
+starts trainin' me fer a house boy. I's a doin' all sorts of chores by
+de time I was six years old. Den ole marster he starts sendin' me out on
+de plantation to drive up de hosses. I sho' likes dat job 'cause aint
+nothin' I loves any better den hosses. Den when I was bigger he starts
+me to carryin' de breakfast to de field whar de grown niggers had been
+out workin' since way 'fore day. Dey all done dat. Dey say de days
+wasn't long enough to put in enough time so dey works part of de night.
+
+"We had good grub 'cause we raised all de co'n and de hogs and de cows
+and chickens and plenty of everything. Mos' times we have biscuits and
+bacon and syrup for breakfast and butter too if we wants it but mos'
+niggers dey likes dat fat bacon de bes'.
+
+"Our log cabins was good and comfortable. Dey was all along in a row and
+built out of de same kind of logs what our marsters house was.
+
+"We had good beds and dey was clean.
+
+"I nev'r had no money when I was a slave 'cause I was jes' a small boy
+when de slaves was set free.
+
+"We had lots of fish and rabbits, more den we had 'possum but we sho'
+likes dat 'possum when we could git it.
+
+"My marster had about three hundred slaves and a big plantation.
+
+"I seen some slaves sold off dat big auction block and de little chillun
+sho' would be a cryin' when dey takes dere mothers away from dem.
+
+"We didn' have no jail 'cause my marster didn' believe dat way, but I's
+seen other slaves in dem chains and things.
+
+"We didn' know nothin' 'bout no learnin' nor no church neither and when
+de slaves die dey was jes' buried without no singin' or nothin'.
+
+"When de war started, my father, he goes and once I remember he comes
+home on a furlough and we was all so glad, den when he goes back he gits
+killed and we nev'r see him no mo'.
+
+"We had de doctor and good care when we was sick. I's don't remember
+much 'bout what kinds of medicine we took but I's know it was mostly
+home-made.
+
+"We all wears dat asafoetida on a string 'round our necks and sometimes
+we carry a rabbit's foot in our pockets fer good luck.
+
+"When de war was ended and de slaves was free old Uncle Pete, our oldest
+slave, comes a-walkin' up from de woods whar he always go to keeps from
+bein' bothered, to read his Bible, and he had dat Bible under his arm
+an' he say, 'I's know somethin', me an' de Lawd knows somethin'', and
+den he tells us. He say, 'You all is free people now, you can go when
+you please and come when you pleases and you can stay here or go some
+other place'. Well I had to stay 'cause my mother stayed and I's jes'
+keeps on ridin' dem race hosses 'til long after my marster was dead, den
+I's gits me some hosses of my own and train other men's hosses too.
+
+"I's worked at dat racin' business 'til I's come to Texas and when I
+went to work in hotels dat killed me up. I's done ev'r thing from makin'
+soap fer de scrubbin', to cookin' de bes' meals fer de bes' hotels. I
+aint been no good since, though, and I had to quit several years ago.
+
+"De first time I was married was to Phillis Reed in Missouri and we jes'
+jumps over de broom, and after Phillis die and I comes to Texas I's gits
+married again to Susie, here in San Angelo; we jes' jumps ov'r de broom
+too. I's nev'r had no chillun of my own so I's jes' a settin' here
+a-livin' off de ole age pension."
+
+
+
+
+420029
+
+
+[Illustration: Julie Francis Daniels]
+
+
+     JULIA FRANCIS DANIELS, born in 1848, in Georgia, a slave of the
+     Denman family, who moved to Texas before the Civil War. Julia's
+     memory fails her when she tries to recall names and dates. She
+     still tries to take part in church activities and has recently
+     started to learn reading and writing. She lives with a daughter at
+     2523 Spring St. Dallas, Texas.
+
+
+"They's lots I disremembers and they's lots I remembers, like the year
+the war's over and the fightin' all done with, 'cause that the year I
+larned to plow and that the time I got married. That's the very year
+they larned me to plow. I larnt all right, 'cause I wasn't one slow to
+larn anything. Afore to that time, they ain't never had no hoe in the
+field for me a-tall. I jes' toted water for the ones in the field.
+
+"I had plenty brothers and sisters, 'bout ten of 'em, but I disremembers
+some they names. There was Tom and George and Marthy and Mandy, and
+they's all name' Denman, 'cause my mammy and daddy was Lottie and Boyd
+Denman and they come from Georgia to Cherokee County and then to Houston
+County, near by to Crockett, with Old Man Denman. He was the one owned
+all us till he 'vided some with Miss Lizzie when she marries Mr. Cramer.
+
+"My daddy worked in the fields with Uncle Lot and my brothers, and my
+Uncle Joe, he's driver. But Briscoe am overseer and he a white man. He
+can't never whup the growed mens like he wants, 'cause they don't let
+him unless he ask Old Man Denman. I seed him whup 'em, though. He make
+'em take off the shirt and whup with the strap.
+
+"Now, my mammy was cook in the Denman house and for our family and Uncle
+Joe's family. She didn't have much time for anythin' but cookin' all the
+time. But she's the bestes' cook. Us had fine greens and hawgs and beef.
+Us et collard greens and pork till us got skittish of it and then they
+quit the pork and kilt a beef. When they done that, they's jus' pourin'
+water on our wheels, 'cause us liked best of anythin' the beef, and I do
+to this day, only I can't never git it.
+
+"Old Man Denman had a boy what kilt squirrels and throwed 'em in the
+kitchen. The white folks et them. You ain't never seen no white folks
+then would eat rabbit. I had a brother who hunted. Mostly on Sundays.
+He'd leave for the swamps 'fore daybreak and we'd know when we'd hear
+him callin', 'O-o-o-o-o-da-da-ske-e-e-e-t,' he had somethin'. That jus'
+a make-up of he own, but we knowed they's rabbits for the pot.
+
+"All the mens don't hunt on Sunday, 'cause Uncle Joe helt meetin' in
+front he house. Us look out the door and seed Uncle Joe settin' the
+benches straight and settin' he table out under the trees and sweepin'
+clean the leaves and us know they's gwine be meetin'. They's the
+loveliest days that ever they was. Night times, too, they'd make it
+'tween 'em whether it'd be at our house or Uncle Joe's. We'd ask niggers
+from other farms and I used to say, 'I likes meetin' jus' as good as I
+likes a party.'
+
+"When crops is laid by us have the most parties and dence and sing and
+have play games. The reels is what I used to like but I done quit that
+foolishness many a year ago. I used to cut a step or two. I remembers
+one reel call the 'Devil's Dream.' It's a fast song
+
+"'Oh, de Devil drempt a dream,
+He drempt it on a Friday--
+He drempt he cotch a sinner.'
+
+"Old Man Denman am the great one for 'viding he property and when Miss
+Lizzie marries with Mr. Creame Cramer, which am her dead sister's
+husband, Old Man Denman give me and two my sisters to Miss Lizzie and he
+gives two more my sisters to he son. Us goes with Miss Lizzie to the
+Cramer place and lives in the back yard in a little room by the back
+door.
+
+"Everything fine and nice there till one day Miss Lizzie say to me,
+'Julia, go down to the well and fetch me some water,' and I goes and I
+seed in the road a heap of men all in gray and ridin' hosses, comin' our
+way. I runs back to the house and calls Miss Lizzie. She say, 'What you
+scairt for?' I tells her 'bout them men and she say they ain't gwine
+hurt me none, they jus' wants some water. I goes back to the well and
+heared 'em talk 'bout a fight. I goes back to the house and some of the
+mens comes to the gate and says to Mr. Cramer, 'How're you, Creame?' He
+say, 'I's all right in my health but I ain't so good in my mind.' They
+says, 'What the matter, Creame?' He say, 'I want to be in the fight so
+bad.'
+
+"When they goes I asks Miss Lizzie what they fightin' 'bout and she say
+it am 'bout money. That all I knows. Right after that Mr. Cramer goes
+and we don't never see him no more. Word come back from the fightin' he
+makes some the big, high mens mad and they puts chains 'round he ankles
+and make him dig a stump in the hot sun. He ain't used to that and it
+give him fever to the brain and he dies.
+
+"When Mr. Cramer goes 'way, Miss Lizzie takes us all and goes back to
+Old Man Denman's. The sojers used to pass and all the whoopin' and
+hollerin' and carryin' on, you ain't never heered the likes! They
+hollers, 'Who-o-o-o, Old Man Denman, how's your chickens?' And they
+chunks and throws at 'em till they cripples 'em up and puts 'em in they
+bags, for cookin'. Old Man Denman cusses at 'em somethin' powerful.
+
+"My sister Mandy and me am down in the woods a good, fur piece from the
+house and us keeps heerin' a noise. My brother comes down and finds me
+and say, 'Come git your dinner.' When I gits there dinner am top the
+gate post and he say they's sojers in the woods and they has been
+persecutin' a old woman on a mule. She was a nigger woman. I gits so
+scairt I can't eat my dinner. I ain't got no heart for victuals. My
+brother say, 'Wait for pa, he comin' with the mule and he'll hide you
+out.' I gits on the mule front of pa and us pass through the sojers and
+they grabs at us and says, 'Gimme the gal, gimme the gal.' Pa say I
+faints plumb 'way.
+
+"Us heered guns shootin' round and 'bout all the time. Seems like they
+fit every time they git a chance. Old Man Denman's boy gits kilt and two
+my sisters he property and they don't know what to do, 'cause they has
+to be somebody's property and they ain't no one to 'heritance 'em. They
+has to go to the auction but Old Man Denman say not to fret. At the
+auction the man say, 'Goin' high, goin' low, goin' mighty slow, a little
+while to go. Bid 'em in, bid 'em in. The sun am high, the sun am hot, us
+got to git home tonight.' An old friend of Old Man Denman's hollers out
+he buys for William Blackstone. Us all come home and my sisters too and
+Old Man Denman laugh big and say, 'My name allus been William Blackstone
+Denman.'
+
+"I's a woman growed when the war was to a end. I had my first baby when
+I's fourteen. One day my sister call me and say, 'They's fit out, and
+they's been surrenderin' and ain't gwine fight no more.' That dusk Old
+Man Denman call all us niggers together and stand on he steps and make
+he speech, 'Mens and womans, you is free as I am. You is free to go
+where you wants but I is beggin' yous to stay by me till us git the
+crops laid by.' Then he say, 'Study it over 'fore you gives me you
+answer. I is always try as my duty to be fair to you.'
+
+"The mens talks it over a-twixt theyselves and includes to stay. They
+says us might as well stay there as go somewhere else, and us got no
+money and no place to go.
+
+"Then Miss Lizzie marries with Mr. Joe McMahon and I goes with her to he
+house near by and he say he larn me to plow. Miss Lizzie say, 'Now,
+Julia, you knows how to plow and don't make no fool of yourself and act
+like you ain't never seed no plow afore.' Us make a corn crop and goes
+on 'bout same as afore.
+
+"I gits married that very year and has a little fixin' for the weddin',
+bakes some cakes and I have a dress with buttons and a preacher marries
+me. I ain't used to wearin' nothin' but loring (a simple one piece
+garment made from sacking). Unnerwear? I ain't never wore no unnerwear
+then.
+
+"My husband rents a little piece of land and us raise a corn crop and
+that's the way us do. Us raises our own victuals. I has 17 chillen
+through the year and they done scatter to the four winds. Some of them
+is dead. I ain't what I used to be for workin'. I jus' set 'round. I
+done plenty work in my primer days.
+
+
+
+
+420015
+
+
+[Illustration: Katie Darling]
+
+
+     KATIE DARLING, about 88, was born a slave on the plantation of
+     William McCarty, on the Elysian Fields Road, nine miles south of
+     Marshall, Texas. Katie was a nurse and housegirl in the McCarty
+     household until five years after the end of the Civil War. She then
+     moved to Marshall and married. Her husband and her three children
+     are dead and she is supported by Griffin Williams, a boy she found
+     homeless and reared. They live in a neat three-room shack in Sunny
+     South addition of Marshall, Texas.
+
+
+"You is talkin' now to a nigger what nussed seven white chillen in them
+bullwhip days. Miss Stella, my young missy, got all our ages down in she
+Bible, and it say I's born in 1849. Massa Bill McCarty my massa and he
+live east and south of Marshall, clost to the Louisiana line. Me and my
+three brudders, Peter and Adam and Willie, all lives to be growed and
+married, but mammy die in slavery and pappy run 'way while he and Massa
+Bill on they way to the battle of Mansfield. Massa say when he come back
+from the war, 'That triflin' nigger run 'way and jines up with them damn
+Yankees.'
+
+"Massa have six chillen when war come on and I nussed all of 'em. I
+stays in the house with 'em and slep' on a pallet on the floor, and soon
+I's big 'nough to tote the milk pail they puts me to milkin', too. Massa
+have more'n 100 cows and most the time me and Violet do all the milkin'.
+We better be in that cowpen by five o'clock. One mornin' massa cotched
+me lettin' one the calves do some milkin' and he let me off without
+whippin' that time, but that don't mean he allus good, 'cause them cows
+have more feelin' for than massa and missy.
+
+"We et peas and greens and collards and middlin's. Niggers had better
+let that ham alone! We have meal coffee. They parch meal in the oven and
+bile it and drink the liquor. Sometime we gits some of the Lincoln
+coffee what was lef' from the nex' plantation.
+
+"When the niggers done anything massa bullwhip them, but didn't skin
+them up very often. He'd whip the man for half doin' the plowin' or
+hoein' but if they done it right he'd find something else to whip them
+for. At night the men had to shuck corn and the women card and spin. Us
+got two pieces of clothes for winter and two for summer, but us have no
+shoes. We had to work Saturday all day and if that grass was in the
+field we didn't git no Sunday, either.
+
+"They have dances and parties for the white folks' chillen, but missy
+say, 'Niggers was made to work for white folks,' and on Christmas Miss
+Irene bakes two cakes for the nigger families but she darsn't let missy
+know 'bout it.
+
+"When a slave die, massa make the coffin hisself and send a couple
+niggers to bury the body and say, 'Don't be long,' and no singin' or
+prayin' 'lowed, jus' put them in the ground and cover 'em up and hurry
+on back to that field.
+
+"Niggers didn't cou't then like they do now, massa pick out a po'tly man
+and a po'tly gal and jist put 'em together. What he want am the stock.
+
+"I 'member that fight at Mansfield like it yes'day. Massas's field am
+all tore up with cannon holes and ever' time a cannon fire, missy go off
+in a rage. One time when a cannon fire, she say to me, 'You li'l black
+wench, you niggers ain't gwine be free. You's made to work for white
+folks.' 'Bout that time she look up and see a Yankee sojer standin' in
+the door with a pistol. She say, 'Katie, I didn't say anythin', did I?'
+I say, 'I ain't tellin' no lie, you say niggers ain't gwine git free.'
+
+"That day you couldn't git 'round the place for the Yankees and they
+stays for weeks at a time.
+
+"When massa come home from the war he wants let us loose, but missy
+wouldn't do it. I stays on and works for them six years after the war
+and missy whip me after the war jist like she did 'fore. She has a
+hun'erd lashes laid up for me now, and this how it am. My brudders done
+lef' massa after the war and move nex' door to the Ware place, and one
+Saturday some niggers come and tell me my brudder Peter am comin' to git
+me 'way from old missy Sunday night. That night the cows and calves got
+together and missy say it my fault. She say, 'I'm gwine give you one
+hun'erd lashes in the mornin', now go pen them calves.'
+
+"I don't know whether them calves was ever penned or not, 'cause Peter
+was waitin' for me at the lot and takes me to live with him on the Ware
+place. I's so happy to git away from that old devil missy, I don't know
+what to do, and I stays there sev'ral years and works out here and there
+for money. Then I marries and moves here and me and my man farms and
+nothin' 'citin' done happened."
+
+
+
+
+420046
+
+
+[Illustration: Carey Davenport]
+
+
+     CAREY DAVENPORT, retired Methodist minister of Anahuac, Texas,
+     appears sturdy despite his 83 years. He was reared a slave of Capt.
+     John Mann, in Walker Co., Texas. His wife, who has been his devoted
+     companion for 60 years, was born in slavery just before
+     emancipation. Carey is very fond of fishing and spends much time
+     with hook and line. He is fairly well educated and is influential
+     among his fellow Negroes.
+
+
+"If I live till the 13th of August I'll be 82 years old. I was born in
+1855 up in Walker County but since then they split the county and the
+place I was born is just across the line in San Jacinto County now. Jim
+and Janey Davenport was my father and mother and they come from
+Richmond, Virginia. I had two sisters, Betty and Harriet, and a half
+brother, William.
+
+"Our old master's name was John Mann but they called him Capt. Mann. Old
+missus' name was Sarah. I'd say old master treated us slaves bad and
+there was one thing I couldn't understand, 'cause he was 'ligious and
+every Sunday mornin' everybody had to git ready and go for prayer. I
+never could understand his 'ligion, 'cause sometimes he git up off his
+knees and befo' we git out the house he cuss us out.
+
+"All my life I been a Methodist and I been a regular preacher 43 years.
+Since I quit I been livin' here at Anahuac and seems like I do 'bout as
+much preachin' now as I ever done.
+
+"I don't member no cullud preachers in slavery times. The white
+Methodist circuit riders come round on horseback and preach. There was a
+big box house for a church house and the cullud folks sit off in one
+corner of the church.
+
+"Sometimes the cullud folks go down in dugouts and hollows and hold they
+own service and they used to sing songs what come a-gushin' up from the
+heart.
+
+"They was 'bout 40 slaves on the place, but I never seed no slaves
+bought or sold and I never was sold, but I seen 'em beat--O, Lawd, yes.
+I seen 'em make a man put his head through the crack of the rail fence
+and then they beat him till he was bloody. They give some of 'em 300 or
+400 licks.
+
+"Old man Jim, he run away lots and sometimes they git the dogs after
+him. He run away one time and it was so cold his legs git frozen and
+they have to cut his legs off. Sometimes they put chains on runaway
+slaves and chained 'em to the house. I never knowed of 'em puttin' bells
+on the slaves on our place, but over next to us they did. They had a
+piece what go round they shoulders and round they necks with pieces up
+over they heads and hung up the bell on the piece over they head.
+
+"I was a sheep minder them days. The wolves was bad but they never
+tackled me, 'cause they'd ruther git the sheep. They like sheep meat
+better'n man meat. Old Captain wanted me to train he boy to herd sheep
+and one day young master see a sow with nine pigs and want me to catch
+them and I wouldn't do it. He tried to beat me up and when we git to the
+lot we have to go round to the big gate and he had a pine knot, and he
+catch me in the gate and hit me with that knot. Old Captain sittin' on
+the gallery and he seed it all. When he heered the story he whipped
+young master and the old lady, she ain't like it.
+
+"One time after that she sittin' in the yard knittin' and she throwed
+her knittin' needle off and call me to come git it. I done forgot she
+wanter whip me and when I bring the needle she grab me and I pull away
+but she hold on my shirt. I run round and round and she call her mother
+and they catch and whip me. My shirt just had one button on it and I was
+pullin' and gnawin' on that button and directly it come off and the
+whole shirt pull off and I didn't have nothin' on but my skin. I run and
+climb up on the pole at the gate and sot there till master come. He say,
+'Carey, why you sittin' up there?' Then I tell him the whole
+transaction. I say, 'Missus, she whip me 'cause young marse John git
+whip that time and not me.' He make me git down and git up on his horse
+behin' him and ride up to the big house. Old missus, she done went to
+the house and go to bed with her leg, 'cause when she whippin' me she
+stick my head 'tween her knees and when she do that I bit her.
+
+"Old master's house was two-story with galleries. My mother, she work in
+the big house and she have a purty good house to live in. It was a plank
+house, too, but all the other houses was make out of hewed logs. Then my
+father was a carpenter and old master let him have lumber and he make he
+own furniture out of dressed lumber and make a box to put clothes in. We
+never did have more'n two changes of clothes.
+
+"My father used to make them old Carey plows and was good at makin' the
+mould board out of hardwood. He make the best Carey plows in that part
+of the country and he make horseshoes and nails and everything out of
+iron. And he used to make spinning wheels and parts of looms. He was a
+very valuable man and he make wheels and the hub and put the spokes in.
+
+"Old master had a big farm and he raised cotton and corn and 'taters and
+peanuts and sorghum cane and some ribbon cane. The bigges' crops was
+cotton and corn.
+
+"My father told us when freedom come. He'd been a free man, 'cause he
+was bodyguard to the old, old master and when he died he give my father
+he freedom. That was over in Richmond, Virginia. But young master steal
+him into slavery again. So he was glad when freedom come and he was free
+again. Old master made arrangement for us to stay with him till after
+the harvest and then we go to the old Rawls house what 'long to Mr. Chiv
+Rawls. He and my father and mother run the place and it was a big farm.
+
+"I git marry when I was 'bout 22 years old and that's her right there
+now. We's been married more'n 60 years and she was 17 years old then.
+She was raised in Grant's colony and her father was a blacksmith.
+
+"We had it all 'ranged and we stop the preacher one Sunday mornin' when
+he was on the way to preachin' and he come there to her pa's house and
+marry us. We's had 11 children and all has deceased but three.
+
+"I was educated since freedom, 'cause they wasn't no schools in slavery
+days, but after I was freed I went to public schools. Most my learnin' I
+got from a German man what was principal of a college and he teach me
+the biggest part of my education.
+
+"When I was 14 a desperado killed my father and then I had my mother and
+her eight children to take care of. I worked two months and went to
+school one month and that way I made money to take care of 'em.
+
+
+
+
+420215
+
+
+[Illustration: Campbell Davis]
+
+
+     CAMPBELL DAVIS, 85, was born in Harrison Co., Texas, a slave of
+     Henry Hood. He remained on the Hood place about three years after
+     he was freed, then farmed in Louisiana. In 1873 he married and
+     moved back to Harrison Co., where he farmed until old age forced
+     him to stop. He now lives with his nephew, Billie Jenkins, near
+     Karnack. Campbell receives a $12.00 per month old age pension.
+
+
+"I's big 'nough in slavery time to hear dem tell de darkies to get up
+and go in the mornin', and to hear the whistlin' of dem whips and
+howlin' of de dogs. I's birthed up in the northeast part of this county
+right on the line of Louisiana and Texas, and 'longed to old man Henry
+Hood. My mammy and daddy was Campbell and Judy Davis and dey both come
+from Alabama, and was brung here by de traders and sold to Massa Hood.
+They was nine of us chillen, name Ellis and Hildaman and Henderson and
+Henrietta and Georgia and Harriet and Patsy.
+
+"Massa Henry didn't have de fine house but it a big one. Us quarters sot
+off 'cross de field in de edge of a skit of woods. Dey have dirt floors
+and a fireplace and old pole and plank bunks nail to de walls.
+
+"Dey fed us beef and veg'tables--any kind, jus' name it--and 'low us sop
+bread in potlicker till de world look level. Dat good eatin' and all my
+life I ain't have no better.
+
+"Massa didn't 'low no overseer on he place. One my uncles de driver, and
+massa blow de old conk shell long 'fore day, and if de darkies didn't
+git goin' you'd hear dem whips crackin'.
+
+"I seed one my sisters whip 'cause she didn't spin 'nough. Dey pull de
+clothes down to her waist and laid her down on de stomach and lash her
+with de rawhide quirt. I's in de field when dey whips my Uncle Lewis for
+not pickin' 'nough cotton. De driver pull he clothes down and make him
+lay on de groun'. He wasn't tied down, but he say he scart to move.
+
+"De women am off Friday afternoon to wash clothes and all de hands git
+Saturday afternoon and mos' de man go huntin' or fishin'. Sometimes dey
+have parties Saturday night and couples git on de floor and have music
+of de fiddle and banjo. I only 'members one ring play:
+
+"Hop light, li'l lady,
+The cakes all dough,
+Don't mind de weather,
+Jus' so de wind don't blow.
+
+"De bigges' day to blacks and whites was fourth of July. De hands was
+off all day and massa give de big dinner out under de trees. He allus
+barbecue de sheep or beef and have cakes and pies and fancy cookin'.
+He's one de bes' bosses round dat country. He 'lieve in makin' dem work
+and when dey need whippin' he done it, but when it come to feedin' he
+done dat right, too. And on Christmas he give us clothes and shoes and
+nuts and things and 'nother big dinner, and on Christmas night de
+darkies sing songs for de white folks.
+
+"Us git some book larnin' 'mongst ourselves, round de quarters, and have
+our own preacher. Mos' de time us chillen play, makin' frog holes in de
+sand and mud people and things.
+
+"I done hear lots of talk 'bout ghosts and hants and think I seed one
+onct. I's comin' home from de neighbors at night, in de moonlight, and
+'rectly I seed something white by side de road. De closer I gits de
+bigger it gits. I's scart but I walks up to it and it nothin' but de big
+spiderweb on de bush. Den I says to myself, 'Dere ain't nothin' to dis
+ghost business.'
+
+"Massa have one son go to war and he taken a old cullud man with him. I
+seed soldiers on hosses comin' and goin' de big road, and lots of dem
+come to Port Caddo in boats. De pretties' sight I ever seed am a soldier
+band all dress in de uniforms with brass buttons. When de soldiers come
+back from de war dey throwed cannon balls 'long de road and us chillen
+play with dem.
+
+"When de war am over, massa call us all and say we's free, but can stay
+on and work for de victuals and clothes. A bunch leaves and go to de
+Progoe Marshal at Shreveport and ask him what to do. He tell dem to go
+back and wait till dey find work some place. My mammy and me stays at de
+Hood place 'bout three years. When I's twenty-one I marries and come
+back to Harrison County. Mammy and me done farm in Louisiana up to dat.
+My wife and me marries under de big oak tree front of de Leigh Church.
+Us jus' common folks and doesn't have no infair or big to-do when us
+marry.
+
+"I's voted but our people won't pull together. I votes de 'publican
+ticket de long time, but last time I pulls over and votes de Democrat
+ticket. I 'cides I jus' as well go with de braves as stay with de scart.
+
+"If de young gen'ration would study dey could make something out
+deyselves, but dey wont do it. Dey am too wild. Jus' last week, I hears
+de young cullud preacher at Karnack say, 'Brudders and sisters, style
+and brightness am what we needs today.' I looks at him and says to
+myself, 'Thank de Lawd I knows better'n dat.' When I's comin' up it am
+dark, but I knows better things am ahead for us people and us trusts in
+de Lawd and was hones' with our white folks and profits by what dey
+tells us. Dey wasn't no niggers sent to jail when I's comin' up. It dis
+'style and brightness' what gits de young niggers in trouble. Dey got de
+dark way 'head of dem, less dey stops and studies and make somethin' out
+deyselves."
+
+
+
+
+420294
+
+
+     WILLIAM DAVIS was born near Kingston, Tennessee, on the first of
+     April, 1845. His family were the only slaves owned by Jonathan
+     Draper, Baptist minister. In 1869 William joined the army and was
+     stationed at Fort Stockton, Texas. He has lived in Houston since
+     1870. William is active and takes a long, daily walk.
+
+
+"Well, suh, jes' sit down in de chair yonder and I'll tell you what I
+can 'bout times back yonder. Let's see, now. I was born on de first day
+of April in 1845. De reason I knows was 'cause Miss Lizzie, our missy,
+told me so when we was sot free. Mammy done told me I was born den, on
+de Tennessee river, near Kingston. I heared her say de turnpike what run
+past Massa John's house dere goes over de mountain to Bristol, over in
+Virginny. Mammy and pappy and all us chillen 'long to de Drapers, Massa
+Jonathan what us call Massa John, and he wife, Miss Lizzie, and we is de
+only cullud folks what dey owns.
+
+"Massa John am de Baptist preacher, and while I'm sho' glad to see my
+folks sot free, I'll tell de truth and say Massa John and Miss Lizzie
+was mighty good to us. Dey have four chillen; Massa Milton, what am
+oldes' and kill in de first battle; Massa Bob and Massa George and Massa
+Canero. Oh, yes, dey have one gal, Missy Ann.
+
+"Course us didn't have no last names like now. Mammy named Sophie and
+pappy named Billy. Sometimes de owners give de slaves last names
+'cordin' to what dey do, like pappy was meat cook and mammy cook pies
+and cakes and bread, so dey might have Cook for de last name.
+
+"We has a bigger family dan Massa John, 'cause dey eight of us chillen.
+I ain't seen none of dem since I lef' Virginny in 1869, but I 'member
+all de names. Dere was Jane and Lucy and Ellen and Bob and Solomon and
+Albert and John, and I'm de younges' de whole lot.
+
+"I heared Miss Lizzie tell some white folks dat my mammy and pappy give
+to her by her pappy in Alabama when she get married. Dat de custom with
+rich folks den, and mammy 'long to de Ames, what was Miss Lizzie's name
+'fore she marry. I heared her say when de stars falls, I think she say
+in 1832, she was 'bout eighteen, and dey think de world am endin'.
+
+"Pappy was a Indian. I knows dat. He came from Congo, over in Africa,
+and I heared him say a big storm druv de ship somewhere on de Ca'lina
+coast. I 'member he mighty 'spectful to Massa and Missy, but he proud,
+too, and walk straighter'n anybody I ever seen. He had scars on de right
+side he head and cheek what he say am tribe marks, but what dey means I
+don't know.
+
+"'Bout de first I 'members real good am where we am in Virginny and
+Massa John runs de Washington College, in Washington County. I 'member
+all de pupils eats at massa's house and dat de first job I ever had.
+'Scuse me for laughin', but I don't reckon I thunk of dat since de Lawd
+know when. Dat my first job. Dey has a string fasten to de wall on one
+side de room, with pea fowl tail feathers strung 'long it, and it runs
+most de length de room, above de dinin' table, and round a pulley-like
+piece in de ceilin' with one end de string hangin' down. When mealtime
+come, I am put where de string hang down and I pulls it easy like, and
+de feathers swishes back and forth sideways, and keeps de flies from
+lightin' while folks am eatin'. 'Ceptin' dat, all I does is play round
+with Massa George and Missy Ann.
+
+"Dey ain't no whuppin' on our place and on Sunday us all go to church,
+and Massa John do de preachin'. Dey rides in de buggy and us follow in
+de wagon. De white folks sets in front de church and us in back.
+
+"I can't tell you how long us stay at de college, 'zactly, but us moves
+to Warm Springs to take de baths and drink de water, in Scott County.
+Dat two, three years befo' de war, and Massa John run de hotel and
+preach on Sunday. I think dere am three springs, one sulphur water and
+one lime water and one a warm spring. I does a little bit of everything
+round de hotel, helps folks off de stage when it druv up, wait on table
+and sich. When I hears de horn blow--you know, de stage driver blow it
+when dey top de hill 'bout two miles 'way, to let you know dey comin'--I
+sho' hustle round and git ready to meet it, 'cause most times folks what
+I totes de grips for gives me something. Dat de first money I ever seed.
+Some de folks gives me de picayune--dat what us call a nickel, now, and
+some gives me two shillin's, what same as two-bits now. A penny was big
+den, jes' like a two-bit piece, now.
+
+"But when war begin 'tween de Yankees and de South, it sho' change
+everything up, 'cause folks quit comin' to de Springs and de soldiers
+takes over de place. Massa Milton go to jine de South Army and gits
+kill. Morgan and he men make de Springs headquarters most de war, till
+de Yankees come marchin' through toward de last part. I know pappy say
+dem Yankees gwine win, 'cause dey allus marchin' to de South, but none
+de South soldiers marches to de North. He didn't say dat to de white
+folks, but he sho' say it to us. When de Yankees come marchin' through,
+de Morgan soldiers jes' hide out till dey gone. Dey never done no
+fightin' round Warm Springs. Lots of times dey goes way for couple weeks
+and den comes back and rests awhile.
+
+"Den one mornin'--I 'members it jes' like it yestiddy, it de fourth of
+July in 1865--Miss Lizzie say to me, 'Willie, I wants you to git you
+papa and de rest de family and have dem come to de porch right away.' I
+scurries round quick like and tells dem and she comes out of de house
+and says, 'Now, de Yankees done sot you free and you can do what you
+wants, but you gwineter see more carpet baggers and liars dan you ever
+has seed, and you'll be worse off den you ever has been, if you has
+anythin' to do with dem. Den she opens de book and tells us all when us
+born and how old us am, so us have some record 'bout ourselves. She
+tells me I'm jes' nineteen and one fourth years old when I'm sot free.
+
+"She tell pappy Massa John want to see him in de house and when he comes
+out he tells us Massa John done told him to take a couple wagons and de
+family and go to de farm 'bout ten miles 'way on Possum Creek and work
+it and stay long as he wants. Massa has us load up one wagon with
+'visions. Pappy made de first crop with jes' hoes, 'cause us didn't have
+no hosses or mules to plow with. Us raise jes' corn and some wheat, but
+dey am fruit trees, peaches and apples and pears and cherries. Massa
+John pay pappy $120 de year, 'sides us 'visions, and us stays dere till
+pappy dies in 1868.
+
+"Den I heared 'bout de railroad what dey buildin' at Knoxville and I
+leaves de folks and gits me de job totin' water. Dey asks my name and I
+says William Davis, 'cause I knows Mr. Jefferson Davis am President of
+de South durin' de war, and I figgers it a good name. In 1869 I goes to
+Nashville and 'lists in de army. I'm in de 24th Infantry, Company G, and
+us sent to Fort Stockton to guard de line of Texas, but all us do am
+build 'dobe houses. Col. Wade was de commander de fort and Cap'n
+Johnson was captain of G. Co. Out dere I votes for de first time, for
+Gen. Grant, when Greeley and him run for president. But I gits sick at
+de Fort and am muster out in 1870 and comes to Houston.
+
+"I gits me de deckhand job on de Dinah, de steamboat what haul freight
+and passengers 'tween Galveston and Houston. Den I works on de Lizzie,
+what am a bigger boat. Course, Houston jes' a little bit of place to
+what it am now--dey wasn't no git buildin's like dey is now, and mud, I
+tell you de streets was jes' like de swamp when it rain.
+
+"Long 'bout 1875 I gits marry to Mary Jones, but she died in 1883 and I
+gits marry 'gain in 1885 to Arabelle Wilson and has four girls and one
+boy from her. She died 'bout ten years back. Course, us cullud folks
+marry jes' like white folks do now, but I seen cullud folks marry 'fore
+de war and massa marry dem dis way: dey goes in de parlor and each carry
+de broom. Dey lays de brooms on de floor and de woman put her broom
+front de man and he put he broom front de woman. Dey face one 'nother
+and step 'cross de brooms at de same time to each other and takes hold
+of hands and dat marry dem. Dat's de way dey done, sho', 'cause I seed
+my own sister marry dat way.
+
+"I has wished lots of times to go back and see my folks, but I never has
+been back and never seed dem since I left, and I guess dey am all gone
+'long 'fore now. I has jobbed at first one thing and 'nother and like
+pappy tells me, I has trials and tribulations and I has good chillen
+what ain't never got in no trouble and what all helps take care dere old
+pappy so I guess I ain't got no complainin' 'bout things.
+
+"I dreams sometimes 'bout de peach trees and de pear trees and de cherry
+trees and I'd give lots to see de mountains 'gain, 'cause when de frost
+come, 'bout now, de leaves on de trees put on pretty colors and de
+persimmons and nuts is ready for pickin' and a little later on us kill
+de hawgs and put by de meat for de winter.
+
+"De Lawd forgive me for dis foolishness, 'cause I got a good home, and
+has all I need, but I gits to thinkin' 'bout Virginny sometimes and my
+folks what I ain't seed since I left, and it sho' make me want to see it
+once more 'fore I die.
+
+
+
+
+420281
+
+
+     ELI DAVISON was born in Dunbar, West Virginia, a slave of Will
+     Davison. Eli has a bill of sale that states he was born in 1844.
+     His master moved to Texas in 1858, and settled in Madison County.
+     Eli lives in Madisonville, with one of his sons.
+
+
+"My first Old Marse was Will Davison. My father's name was Everett Lee
+and mama was Susan, and he come to see her twict a month, 'cause he was
+owned by 'nother master.
+
+"Marse Davison had a good home in West Virginia, where I's born, in
+Dunbar, but most of it 'longed to he wife and she was the boss of him.
+He had a great many slaves, and one mornin' he got up and 'vided all he
+had and told his wife she could have half the slaves. Then we loaded two
+wagons and he turned to his oldest son and the next son and said, 'You's
+gwine with me. Crawl on.' Then he said to he wife, 'Elsie, you can have
+everything here, but I'm takin' Eli and Alex and these here two
+chillen.' The other two gals and two boys he left, and pulled out for
+Texas. It taken us mos' two years to git here, and Marse Will never sot
+eyes on the rest of his family no more, long as he lived.
+
+"Marse never married any more. He'd say, 'They ain't 'nother woman under
+the sun I'd let wear my name.' He never said his wife's name no more,
+but was allus talkin' of them chillun he done left behind.
+
+"We gits here and starts to build a one room log house for Marse Will
+and his two boys. My quarters was one them covered wagons, till he
+trades me off. He cried like a baby, but he said, 'I hate to do this,
+but its the only way I'll have anything to leave for my two boys.' Looks
+like everything done go 'gainst him when he come to Texas, and he took
+sick and died. The boys put him away nice and loaded up and went back
+to Virginia, but the home was nailed up and farm lying out, and it took
+them mos' a year to find they folks. The mother and one gal was dead, so
+they come back and lived and died here in Texas.
+
+"Marse Will was one more good man back in Virginia. He never got mad or
+whipped a slave. He allus had plenty to eat, with 1,200 acres, but after
+we come here all we had to eat was what we kilt in the woods and
+cornbread. He planted seven acres in corn, but all he did was hunt deer
+and squirrels. They was never a nigger what tried to run off in Texas,
+'cause this was a good country, plenty to eat by huntin' and not so cold
+like in Virginia.
+
+"After I was traded off, my new master wasn't so good to me. He thunk
+all the time the South would win that war and he treated us mean. His
+name was Thomas Greer. He kept tellin' us a black nigger never would be
+free. When it come, he said to us, 'Well, you black ----, you are just
+as free as I am.' He turnt us loose with nothin' to eat and mos' no
+clothes. He said if he got up nex' mornin' and found a nigger on his
+place, he'd horsewhip him.
+
+"I don't know what I'd done, but one my old Marse Will's chillun done
+settle close by and they let me work for them, and built me a log house
+and I farmed on halves. They stood good for all the groceries I buyed
+that year. It took all I made that year to pay my debts and that's the
+way its been ever since.
+
+"I married Sarah Keys. We had a home weddin' and 'greed to live together
+as man and wife. I jus' goes by her home one day and captures her like.
+I puts her on my saddle behind me and tells her she's my wife then.
+That's all they was to my weddin'. We had six chillun and they's all
+farmin' round here. Sarah, she dies seventeen years ago and I jus' lives
+round with my chillen, 'cause I's too old to do any work.
+
+"All I ever done was to farm. That's all this here nigger knew what to
+do. O, I's seed the time when I never had nothin' to eat and my big
+bunch of chillun cryin' for bread. I could go to the woods then, but you
+can't git wild game no more. In them days it was five or ten mile to
+your nearest neighbor, but now they's so close you can stand in your
+yard and talk to them.
+
+"I never done no votin', 'cause them Klu Kluxers was allus at the votin'
+places for a long time after the niggers was freed. The niggers has got
+on since them old days. They has gone from nothin' to a fair educated
+folks. We has been kind of slow, 'cause we was turnt loose without
+nothin', and couldn't read and write.
+
+"I's worked for fifteen and thirty cents a day, but Lawd, blessed to our
+president, we gits a li'l pension now and that's kep' me from plumb
+starvin' to death. Times is hard and folks had to do away with
+everything when they had that Hoover for president, but they will be
+straightened out by and by if they'll listen to the president now.
+'Course, some wants to kill him, 'cause he helps the poor, but it do
+look like we ought to have a li'l bread and salt bacon without upsettin'
+'em, when they has so much.
+
+
+
+
+420162
+
+
+     ELIGE DAVISON was born in Richmond, Virginia, a slave of George
+     Davison. Elige worked in the field for some time before he was
+     freed, but does not know his age. He lives with one of his
+     grandsons, in Madisonville, Texas.
+
+
+"My birth was in Richmond. That's over in old Virginny, and George
+Davison owned me and my pappy and mammy. I 'member one sister, named
+Felina Tucker.
+
+"Massa and Missus were very good white folks and was good to the black
+folks. They had a great big rock house with pretty trees all round it,
+but the plantation was small, not more'n a hunerd acres. Massa growed
+tobaccy on 'bout 30 of them acres, and he had a big bunch of hawgs. He
+waked us up 'bout four in the mornin' to milk the cows and feed them
+hawgs.
+
+"Our quarters was good, builded out of pine logs with a bed in one
+corner, no floors and windows. Us wore old loyal clothes and our shirt,
+it open all down the front. In winter massa gave us woolen clothes to
+wear. Us didn't know what shoes was, though.
+
+"Massa, he look after us slaves when us sick, 'cause us worth too much
+money to let die jus' like you do a mule. He git doctor or nigger mammy.
+She make tea out of weeds, better'n quinine. She put string round our
+neck for chills and fever, with camphor on it. That sho' keep off
+diseases.
+
+"Us work all day till jus' 'fore dark. Sometimes us got whippin's. We
+didn't mind so much. Boss, you know how stubborn a mule am, he have to
+be whipped. That the way slaves is.
+
+"When you gather a bunch of cattle to sell they calves, how the calves
+and cows will bawl, that the way the slaves was then. They didn't know
+nothin' 'bout they kinfolks. Mos' chillen didn't know who they pappy was
+and some they mammy 'cause they taken 'way from the mammy when she wean
+them, and sell or trade the chillen to someone else, so they wouldn't
+git 'tached to they mammy or pappy.
+
+"Massa larn us to read and us read the Bible. He larn us to write, too.
+They a big church on he plantation and us go to church and larn to tell
+the truth.
+
+"I seed some few run away to the north and massa sometime cotch 'em and
+put 'em in jail. Us couldn't go to nowhere without a pass. The
+patterrollers would git us and they do plenty for nigger slave. I's went
+to my quarters and be so tired I jus' fall in the door, on the ground,
+and a patterroller come by and hit me several licks with a
+cat-o-nine-tails, to see if I's tired 'nough to not run 'way. Sometimes
+them patterrollers hit us jus' to hear us holler.
+
+"When a slave die, he jus' 'nother dead nigger. Massa, he builded a
+wooden box and put the nigger in and carry him to the hole in the
+ground. Us march round the grave three times and that all.
+
+"I been marry once 'fore freedom, with home weddin'. Massa, he bring
+some more women to see me. He wouldn't let me have jus' one woman. I
+have 'bout fifteen and I don't know how many chillen. Some over a
+hunerd, I's sho'.
+
+"I 'member plenty 'bout the war, 'cause the Yankees they march on to
+Richmond. They kill everything what in the way. I heared them big guns
+and I's scart. Everybody scart. I didn't see no fightin', 'cause I gits
+out the way and keeps out till it all over.
+
+But when they marches right on the town I's tendin' hosses for massa. He
+have two hosses kilt right under him. Then the Yankees, they capture
+that town. Massa, he send me to git the buggy and hoss and carry missus
+to the mountain, but them Yankees they capture me and say they gwine
+hang that nigger. But, glory be, massa he saves me 'fore they hangs me.
+He send he wife and my wife to 'nother place then, 'cause they burn
+massa's house and tear down all he fences.
+
+"When the war over massa call me and tells me I's free as he was, 'cause
+them Yankees win the war. He give me $5.00 and say he'll give me that
+much a month iffen I stays with him, but I starts to Texas. I heared I
+wouldn't have to work in Texas, 'cause everything growed on trees and
+the Texans wore animal hides for clothes. I didn't git no land or mule
+or cow. They warn't no plantations divided what I knowed 'bout. Mos'
+niggers jus' got turn loose with a cuss, and not 'nough clothes to cover
+they bodies.
+
+"It 'bout a year 'fore I gits to Texas. I walks nearly all the way.
+Sometimes I git a li'l ride with farmer. Sometimes I work for folks
+'long the way and git fifty cents and start 'gain.
+
+"I got to Texas and try to work for white folks and try to farm. I
+couldn't make anything at any work. I made $5.00 a month for I don't
+know how many year after the war. Iffen the woods wasn't full of wild
+game us niggers all starve to death them days.
+
+"I been marry three time. First wife Eve Shelton. She run off with
+'nother man. Then I marries Fay Elly. Us sep'rate in a year. Then I
+marry Parlee Breyle. No, I done forgot. 'Fore that I marries Sue
+Wilford, and us have seven gals and six boys. They all in New York but
+one. He stays here. Then I marries Parlee and us have two gals. Parlee
+die three year ago.
+
+"The gov'ment give me a pension and I gits li'l odd jobs round, to get
+by. But times been hard and I ain't had much to eat the las' few years.
+Not near so good as what old massa done give me. But I gits by somehow.
+
+"I done the bes' I could, 'sidering I's turned out with nothin' when I's
+growed and didn't know much, neither. The young folks, they knows more,
+'cause they got the chance for schoolin'.
+
+
+
+
+420278
+
+
+     JOHN DAY, 81, was born near Dayton, Tennessee, a slave of Major
+     John Day. John lives in McLennan Co., Texas.
+
+
+"I was born near three mile from Dayton. That's over in Tennessee, and
+it was the sixteenth of February, in 1856. Master's name was Major John
+Day and my father's name was Alfred Day, and he was a first-class
+blacksmith. Blacksmithin' was a real trade them days, and my father made
+axes and hoes and plow shares and knives and even Jew's harps.
+
+"Master was good to my father and when he done done de day's work he
+could work and keep the money he made. He'd work till midnight,
+sometimes, and at de end that war he had fifteen hundred dollars in
+Confederate money. I never seen such a worker.
+
+"Master John thunk lots of father but he took de notion to sell him one
+time, 'cause why, he could git a lot of money for him. He sold him, but
+my mama and even Old Missy, cried and took on so dat Master John went
+after de men what bought him, to git him back. Dey already done crossed
+de river, but master calls and dey brung my father back and he give dem
+de money back. Dat de only time master sold one of us.
+
+"He was a preacher and good to us, never beat none of us. He didn't have
+no overseer, but saw to all de work heself. He had twenty-five slaves
+and raised wheat and corn and oats and vegetables and fruit. He had four
+hundred acres and a house with twelve rooms.
+
+"A man what owned a farm jinin' ourn, de houses half a mile apart. He
+had two slaves, Taylor and Jennie, and he whip dem every day, even if
+dey hadn't done nothin'. He allus beatin' on dem, seemed like. One awful
+cold day in February, Taylor done go to Denton for somethin', and when
+he come back his master starts beatin' on him, and cursed him somethin'
+awful. He kep' it up till my mama, her name was Mariah, gits a butcher
+knife and runs out dere and say, 'Iffen you hits him 'nother lick, I'll
+use this on you.' Old Missy was watchin' and backed her up. So he quit
+beatin' on Taylor dat time. But one day dat white man's own son say to
+him, 'Iffen you don't quit beatin' on dem niggers, I'll knock you in de
+head.' Den he quit.
+
+"Master was in de Confederate army. He gits to be a major and after he
+done come out dat war he sho' hated anythin' what was blue color. I got
+hold a old Yankee cap and coat and is wearin' dem and master yanks dem
+off and burns dem.
+
+"We heared dem guns in de Lookout Mountain battle. Dey sounded like
+thunder, rumblin' low. One day de Feds done take Dayton and de soldiers
+goes by our place to drive dem Feds out. Dere a valley 'bout two miles
+wide 'twixt our place and Dayton and we could see de Confederate
+soldiers till dey go up de hill on de other side. Long in evenin' de
+Confederates come back through dat valley and they was travelin' with
+dem Yankees right after dem. Dey come by our house and we was gittin'
+out de way, all right. Old Missy took all us chillen, black and white,
+and puts us under half a big hogshead, down in de stormhouse.
+
+"De Yankees got to de place and 'gin ransack it. Old Missy done lock dat
+stormhouse door and sot down on it and she wouldn't git up when dey done
+tell her to. So dey takes her by de arms and lifts her off it. Dey
+didn't hurt her any. Den dey brekks de lock and comes down in dere. I
+didn't see whay dey hadn't found us kids, 'cause my heart beatin' like
+de hammer. Dey turned dat hogshead over and all us kids skinned out dere
+like de Devil after us. One de Yanks hollers, 'Look what we done hatch
+out!'
+
+"I tore out past de barn, thinkin' I'd go to mama, in de field, but it
+look like all de Yanks in de world jumpin' dere hosses over dat fence,
+so I whirls round and run in dat barn and dives in a stack of hay and
+buries myself so deep de folks like to never found me. Dey hunted all
+over de place befo' dey done found me. Us kids scart 'cause we done see
+dem Yanks' bayonets and thunk dey was dere horns.
+
+"Dem Yanks done take all de flour and meal and wheat and corn and smoked
+meat. After dat master fixes up a place in de ceilin' to store stuff,
+and a trap door so when it closed you couldn't tell its dere.
+
+"I lives in and round de old place till 1910, den comes to Texas. I jist
+works round and farms and gits by, but I ain't never done nothin' worth
+tellin'.
+
+
+
+
+420257
+
+
+[Illustration: Nelsen Denson]
+
+
+     NELSEN DENSON, 90, was born near Hambirg, Arkansas, a slave of Jim
+     Nelson, who sold Nelsen and his family to Felix Grundy. Nelsen's
+     memory is poor, but he managed to recall a few incidents. He now
+     lives in Waco, Texas.
+
+
+"I'll be ninety years old this December, (1937). I was born in Arkansas,
+up in Ashley County, and it was the twenty-second day of December in
+1847. My mammy was from Virginny and pappy was from old Kentucky, and I
+was one of they eight chillen. Our owner, Marse Jim Densen, brung us to
+Texas and settled near Marlin, but got in debt and sold as all to Marse
+Felix Grundy, and he kep' us till freedom, and most of us worked for him
+after that.
+
+"Marse Jim Densen had a easy livin' in Arkansas, but folks everywhere
+was comin' to Texas and he 'cides to throw in his fortunes. It wasn't so
+long after that war with Mexico and folks come in a crowd to 'tect
+theyselves 'gainst Indians and wild animals. The wolves was the worst to
+smell cookin' and sneak into camp, but Indians come up and makes the
+peace sign and has a pow wow with the white folks. Marse git beads or
+cloth and trade for leather breeches and things.
+
+"I want to tell how we crosses the Red River on de Red River Raft. Back
+in them days the Red River was near closed up by dis timber raft and de
+big boats couldn't git up de river at all. We gits a li'l boat, and a
+Caddo Indian to guide us. Dis Red River raft dey say was centuries old.
+De driftwood floatin' down de river stops in de still waters and makes a
+bunch of trees and de dirt 'cumulates, and broomstraws and willows and
+brush grows out dis rich dirt what cover de driftwood. Dis raft growed
+'bout a mile a year and de oldes' timber rots and breaks away, but dis
+not fast 'nough to keep de river clear. We found bee trees on de raft
+and had honey.
+
+"It was long time after us come to Texas when de gov'ment opens up de
+channel. Dat am in 1873. 'Fore dat, a survey done been made and dey
+found de raft am a hundred and twenty-eight miles long. When we was on
+dat raft it am like a big swamp, with trees and thick brush and de
+driftwood and logs all wedge up tight 'tween everything.
+
+"'Fore Texas secedes, Marse Jensen done sell us all to Marse Felix
+Grundy, and he goes to war in General Hardeman's Brigade and is with him
+for bodyguard. When de battle of Mansfield come I'm sixteen years old.
+We was camped on the Sabine River, on the Texas side, and the Yanks on
+the other side a li'l ways. I 'member the night 'fore the battle, how
+the campfires looked, and a quiet night and the whippoorwills callin' in
+the weeds. We was 'spectin' a 'tack and sings to keep cheerful. The
+Yanks sings the 'Battle Cry of Freedom' when they charges us. They come
+on and on and, Lawd, how they fit! I stays clost to Marse Grundy and the
+rebels wins and takes 'bout a thousand Yanks.
+
+"Most the slaves was happy, the ones I knowed. They figgers the white
+men fightin' for some principal, but lots of them didn't care nothin'
+'bout bein' free. I s'pose some was with bad white folks, but not round
+us. We had more to eat and now I'm so old I wouldn't feel bad if I had
+old marse to look after me 'gain.
+
+
+
+
+420131
+
+
+     VICTOR DUHON was born 97 years ago in Lafayette Parish, La., a
+     slave of the Duhon family. His blue eyes and almost white skin are
+     evidence of the white strain in his blood. Even after many years of
+     association with English speaking persons, he speaks a French
+     patois, and his story was interpreted by a Beaumont French teacher.
+
+
+"My papa was Lucien Duhon and my mama Euripe Dupuis. I was born over in
+Louisiana in Lafayette Parish, between Broussard and Warville. I'm 97
+years old now.
+
+"I didn't have brothers or sisters, except half ones. It is like this,
+my mama was a house servant in the Duhon family. She was the
+hairdresser. One day she barbered master's son, who was Lucien. He says
+that he'll shave her head if she won't do what he likes. After that she
+his woman till he marries a white lady.
+
+"My grandmama was stolen from Africa and she lived to be 125 years old.
+She died last year in April. I think I'll live long as she did. There
+were fifteen slaves on the land what Duhon's had but I never ran around
+with them. I had room at the back of the big house. You know, Madame
+Duhon was my grandmama. She was good to me. The only thing I did was
+look to my master's horse and be coachman for Madame. Master had four
+sons. They were Ragant and Jaques and Lucien and Desire. Desire was shot
+at the dance.
+
+"Master had about 100 acres in cotton and the corn. He had a slave for
+to hunt all the time. He didn't do other things. The partridge and the
+rice birds he killed were cooked for the white folks. The owls and the
+rabbits and the coons and the possums were cooked for us. They had a big
+room for us to eat in. Where they cook they had a long oven with a piece
+down the middle. They cooked the white folks things on one side. They
+cooked their own things on the other. They had each ones pots and
+skillets.
+
+"I didn't play much with the black children. My time went waiting on my
+white folks.
+
+"Sometimes the priest came to say Mass. The slaves went to Mass. The
+priest married and baptized the slaves. They gave a feast of baptizing.
+We all had real beef meat that day.
+
+"When my mama had 22 years she married a Polite Landry slave. Then she
+went to the Landry plantation. There was often marrying between the two
+plantations. When they married the wife went to her man's plantation.
+That made no difference. It wouldn't be long before a girl from the
+other place marry into the man's plantation. That kept things in
+balance.
+
+"My mama married Fairjuste Williams. They had two sons and a daughter. I
+didn't know them so much. They were half brothers and sister.
+
+"I had 22 years when war came. You know what war I mean. The war when
+the slaves were set free. I wasn't bothered about freedom. Didn't leave
+master till he died. Then I went to work for Mr. Polite Landry.
+
+"I was always in good hands. Some slaves ware treated bad. Mr. Natale
+Vallean beat up a slave for stealing. He beat him so hard he lay in
+front of the gate a whole day and the night.
+
+"I worked on farms all my life. Then I came to Beaumont. About 23 years
+ago, it was. I worked at anything. Now I'm too old. I live with my
+daughter.
+
+
+
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+|                                                              |
+| Transcriber's Corrections:                                   |
+|                                                              |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 3: Then (and weepin' when they sot us free. Lots of     |
+| them didn't want to be free, 'cause they knowed nothin' and  |
+| had nowhere to go. #Them# what had good massas stayed right  |
+| on.) # Page 14: too (niggers. There am 'bout 30 old and      |
+| young niggers and 'bout 20 piccaninnies too little #to#      |
+| work, and de nuss cares for dem while dey mammies works.)    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 28: way ("I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr.    |
+| Will set us all free. I was 'bout 17 year old then or more.  |
+| I #say# I goin' find my mamma. Mr. Will fixes me up two      |
+| papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some smaller,    |
+| but both)                                                    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 52: Mockbateman ("My pappy was Ike Bateman, 'cause his  |
+| massa's name am #Mock Bateman#, and mammy's name was         |
+| Francis. They come from Tennessee and I had four brothers    |
+| and six sisters. We jes' left de last part)                  |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 67: home-make ("Marster have de plank house and all de  |
+| things in it was #home-made#. De cook was a old cullud woman |
+| and I eat at de kitchen table and)                           |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 85: bit ("Every year they have #big# Christmas dinner   |
+| and ham and turkey and allus feed us good. Us have Christmas |
+| party and sing songs. That)                                  |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 90: LaSan (slave born. My papa was Olivier Blanchard    |
+| and he white man carpenter on old plantation. We belong to   |
+| Clairville #La San# and all live on that place. My papa just |
+| plain carpenter but could draw patterns for)                 |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 114: chilen (School. Dem was good times. De mistus cook |
+| dinner and send it down for de old folks and #chillen# to    |
+| have plenty.)                                                |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 147: bit ("Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't |
+| have no old missus, 'cause he was a bachelor. He had a #big# |
+| plantation. I don't know how big but dey somethin' like      |
+| twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies)             |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 164: nyself ("I seed some bad sight in slavery, but     |
+| ain' never been 'bused #myself#. I seed chillun too lil' to  |
+| walk from dey mammies sol' right off de block)               |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 195: tim (Ross drives de cattle north and I says to     |
+| him, 'I's good hand at de drive. Kin I go with you nex'      |
+| #time# you goes north?' And not long after dat we starts and |
+| we gits to Kansas City. After Marster Ross gets shut of)     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 211: women (I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I |
+| left and raised a family of chillen. I saw Missie Adeline    |
+| and she was a old #woman#. We went out and looked at the     |
+| tombstones and the rock markers in the graveyard on the old  |
+| place, and some of)                                          |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 212: woned ("My master was Dick Townes and my folks     |
+| come with him from Alabama. He #owned# a big plantation      |
+| fifteen miles from Austin and worked lots of slaves. We had  |
+| the best master in the whole county, and everybody called)   |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 214: gen'zen ("Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old  |
+| #gen'man#, with a big bald place on he head, and he am good  |
+| to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old)                     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 226: bit (best men I ever knows in my whole life and    |
+| his wife was jes' like him. Dey had a #big#, four-room log   |
+| house with a big hall down the center up and down. De logs   |
+| was all peeled and de chinkin' a diff'rent color from de     |
+| logs and)                                                    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 228: "e (De war am on, but us don't see none of it. But |
+| 'stead of eatin' cornbread, us eats bread out of kaffir corn |
+| and maize. #"We# raises lots of okra and dey say it gwine be |
+| parch and grind to make coffee for white folks. Dat didn't)  |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 251: conb (I go to milk I puts her in de trough. I      |
+| saved her life lots of times. One time she's on de #cone# of |
+| de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years old. I eases  |
+| up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me.    |
+| 'Nother)                                                     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 258: Day (woman a big, red pocket handkerchief and a    |
+| bottle of liquor. He buyed dat liquor by de barrel and liked |
+| it hisself. #Dat# why he allus had it on de place.)          |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 262: outselves ("We mos'ly lived on corn pone and salt  |
+| bacon de marster give us. We didn't have no gardens          |
+| #ourselves#, 'cause we wouldn't have time to work in dem. We |
+| worked all day in de fields and den was so tired we          |
+| couldn't)                                                    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 263: Weht (usually split from hem to neck and I had to  |
+| wear them till they was strings. #Went# barefoot summer and  |
+| winter till the feets crack open.)                           |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 267: bit ("Dey feeds us well sometimes, if dey warn't   |
+| mad at us. Dey has a big trough jes' like de trough for de   |
+| pigs and dey has a #big# gourd and dey totes de gourd full   |
+| of milk and dey breaks de bread in de milk. Den my mammy)    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 289: whay (us call Massa John, and he wife, Miss        |
+| Lizzie, and we is de only cullud folks #what# dey owns.)     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 292: everhas (more carpet baggers and liars dan you     |
+| ever has seed, and you'll be worse off den you #ever has#    |
+| been, if you has anythin' to do with dem. Den she opens de   |
+| book and tells us all when us born and how old us am, so us  |
+| have some record 'bout)                                      |
+|                                                              |
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of
+Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Slave Narratives, A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves
+    </title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery
+in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves
+       Texas Narratives, Part 1
+
+Author: Work Projects Administration
+
+Release Date: December 2, 2009 [EBook #30576]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES--TEXAS, PART 1 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
+generously made available by the Library of Congress,
+Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="trnote">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align="left"> <h2>Transcriber's Note:</h2></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"> I. Inconsistent punctuation has been silently corrected throughout the book.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"> II. Clear spelling mistakes have been corrected however,
+inconsistent languague usage (such as 'day' and 'dey')
+has been maintained. A list of corrections is included
+at the <a href="#Transcribers_Corrections">end of the book</a>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"> III. The numbers at the start of each chapter were stamped
+ into the original scan and refer to the number of the published
+interview in the context of the entire Slave Narratives
+project.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"> IV. Two handwritten notes have been retained and are
+annotated as such.</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+<h1>SLAVE NARRATIVES</h1>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>A Folk History of Slavery in the United States
+From Interviews with Former Slaves</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY<br />
+THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT<br />
+1936-1938<br />
+ASSEMBLED BY<br />
+THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT<br />
+WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION<br />
+FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA<br />
+SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Illustrated with Photographs</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">WASHINGTON 1941</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p class="center">VOLUME XVI</p>
+
+
+<h2>TEXAS NARRATIVES</h2>
+
+<h3>PART 1</h3>
+
+
+<p class="center">Prepared by
+the Federal Writers' Project of
+the Works Progress Administration
+for the State of Texas
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+
+<tr><td align="center"><h2>INFORMANTS</h2></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Adams, Will</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Adams, William</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Adams, William M.</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Allen, Sarah</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Anderson, Andy</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Anderson, George Washington (Wash)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Anderson, Willis</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Armstrong, Mary</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Arnwine, Stearlin</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ashley, Sarah</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Babino, Agatha</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Barclay, Mrs. John</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Barker, John</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Barnes, Joe</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Barrett, Armstead</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Barrett, Harriet</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bates, John</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beckett, Harrison</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bell, Frank</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bell, Virginia</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bendy, Edgar</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bendy, Minerva</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Benjamin, Sarah</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bess, Jack</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Betts, Ellen</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beverly, Charlotte</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Black, Francis</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Blanchard, Olivier</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Blanks, Julia</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Boles, Elvira</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bormer (Bonner), Betty</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Boyd, Harrison</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Boyd, Issabella</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Boyd, James</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Boykins, Jerry</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brackins, Monroe</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bradshaw, Gus</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brady, Wes</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Branch, Jacob</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Branch, William</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brim, Clara</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brooks, Sylvester</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Broussard, Donaville</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brown, Fannie</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brown, Fred</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brown, James</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brown, Josie</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Brown, Zek</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bruin, Madison</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bunton, Martha Spence</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Butler, Ellen</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Buttler, Henry H.</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Byrd, William</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cain, Louis</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Calhoun, Jeff</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Campbell, Simp</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cape, James</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Carruthers, Richard</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Carter, Cato</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cauthern, Jack</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Chambers, Sally Banks</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Choice, Jeptha</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Clark, Amos</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Clark, Anne</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cole, Thomas</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Coleman, Eli</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Coleman, Preely</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Collins, Harriet</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Columbus, Andrew (Smoky)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Connally, Steve</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cormier, Valmar</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cornish, Laura</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Crawford, John</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cumby, Green</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cummins, Tempie</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cunningham, Adeline</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Daily, Will</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Daniels, Julia Francis</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Darling, Katie</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Davenport, Carey</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Davis, Campbell</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Davis, William</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Davison, Eli</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Davison, Elige</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Day, John</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Denson, Nelsen</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Duhon, Victor</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="center"><h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left">Will Adams</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">William Adams</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mary Armstrong</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sterlin Arnwine</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sarah Ashley</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Edgar and Minerva Bendy</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Jack Bess's House</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Jack Bess</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Charlotte Beverly</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Francis Black</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Betty Bormer (Bonner)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Issabella Boyd</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">James Boyd</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Monroe Brackins</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Wes Brady</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">William Branch</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Clara Brim</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sylvester Brooks</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Donaville Broussard</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fannie Brown</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fred Brown</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">James Brown</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Josie Brown</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Zek Brown</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Martha Spence Bunton</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ellen Butler</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Simp Campbell</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">James Cape</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato Carter</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Amos Clark's Sorghum Mill</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Amos Clark</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Anne Clark</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Preely Coleman</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Steve Connally</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Steve Connally's House</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Valmar Cormier</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">John Crawford</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Green Cumby</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tempie Cummins</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Adeline Cunningham</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Will Daily's House</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Will Daily</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Julia Francis Daniels</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Katie Darling</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Carey Davenport</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Campbell Davis</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nelsen Denson</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="EX-SLAVE_STORIES" id="EX-SLAVE_STORIES"></a>EX-SLAVE STORIES</h2>
+
+<h2>(Texas)</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420241" id="nr420241"></a>420241</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%">
+<img src="images/1willadams.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Will Adams" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Will Adams</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILL ADAMS was born in 1857,
+a slave of Dave Cavin, in
+Harrison Co., Texas. He remained
+with the Cavins until
+1885, then farmed for himself.
+Will lives alone in Marshall,
+Texas, supported by a $13.00
+monthly pension.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My folks allus belongs to the Cavins and wore their name till
+after 'mancipation. Pa and ma was named Freeman and Amelia Cavin and
+Massa Dave fotches them to Texas from Alabama, along with ma's mother,
+what we called Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"The Cavins allus thunk lots of their niggers and Grandma Maria
+say, 'Why shouldn't they&mdash;it was their money.' She say there was plenty
+Indians here when they settled this country and they bought and traded
+with them without killin' them, if they could. The Indians was poor folks,
+jus' pilfer and loaf 'round all the time. The niggers was a heap sight
+better off than they was, 'cause we had plenty to eat and a place to stay.</p>
+
+<p>"Young Massa Tom was my special massa and he still lives here. Old
+Man Dave seemed to think more of his niggers than anybody and we thunk lots
+of our white folks. My pa was leader on the farm, and there wasn't no overseer
+or driver. When pa whip a nigger he needn't go to Massa Dave, but pa
+say, 'Go you way, you nigger. Freeman didn't whip you for nothin'.'
+Massa Dave allus believe pa, 'cause he tells the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"One time a peddler come to our house and after supper he goes to
+see 'bout his pony. Pa done feed that pony fifteen ears of corn. The
+peddler tell massa his pony ain't been fed nothin', and massa git mad
+and say, 'Be on you way iffen you gwine 'cuse my niggers of lyin'.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We had good quarters and plenty to eat. I 'members when I's jus'
+walkin' round good pa come in from the field at night and taken me out
+of bed and dress me and feed me and then play with me for hours. Him bein'
+leader, he's gone from 'fore day till after night. The old heads got out
+early but us young scraps slep' till eight or nine o'clock, and don't you
+think Massa Dave ain't comin' round to see we is fed. I 'members him like
+it was yest'day, comin' to the quarters with his stick and askin' us, 'Had
+your breakfas'?' We'd say, 'Yes, suh.' Then he'd ask if we had 'nough or
+wanted any more. It look like he taken a pleasure in seein' us eat. At
+dinner, when the field hands come in, it am the same way. He was sho' that
+potlicker was fill as long as the niggers want to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"The hands worked from sun to sun. Massa give them li'l crops and
+let them work them on Saturday. Then he bought the stuff and the niggers go
+to Jefferson and buy clothes and sech like. Lots saved money and bought
+freedom 'fore the war was over.</p>
+
+<p>"We went to church and first the white preacher preached and then he
+larns our cullud preachers. I seed him ordain a cullud preacher and he told
+him to allus be honest. When the white preacher laid his hand on him, all
+the niggers git to hollerin' and shoutin' and prayin' and that nigger git
+scart mos' to death.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas we had all we could eat and drink and after that a big
+party, and you ought to see them gals swingin' they partners round. Then
+massa have two niggers wrestle, and our sports and dances was big sport for
+the white folks. They'd sit on the gallery and watch the niggers put it on
+brown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Massa didn't like his niggers to marry off the place, but sometimes
+they'd do it, and massa tell his neighbor, 'My nigger am comin' to you place.
+Make him behave.' All the niggers 'haved then and they wasn't no Huntsville
+and gallows and burnin's then.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa went to war with his boy, Billie. They's lots of cryin'
+and weepin' when they sot us free. Lots of them didn't want to be free, 'cause
+they knowed nothin' and had nowhere to go. <a name='TC_1'></a><span class="corr" title="Then">Them</span> what had good massas stayed
+right on.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members when that Ku Klux business starts up. Smart niggers causes
+that. The carpet-baggers ruint the niggers and the white men couldn't do a
+thing with them, so they got up the Ku Klux and stirs up the world. Them carpet-baggers
+come round larnin' niggers to sass the white folks what done fed them.
+They come to pa with that talk and he told them, 'Listen, white folks, you is
+gwine start a graveyard if you come round here teachin' niggers to sass white
+folks." Them carpet-baggers starts all the trouble at 'lections in Reconstruction.
+Niggers didn't know anythin' 'bout politics.</p>
+
+<p>"Mos' the young niggers ain't usin' the education they got now. I's been
+here eighty years and still has to be showed and told by white folks. These
+young niggers won't git told by whites or blacks either. They thinks they done
+knowed it all and that gits them in trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"I stays with the Cavins mos' twenty years after the war. After I
+leaves, I allus farms and does odd jobs round town here. I's father of ten
+chillen by one woman. I lives by myself now and they gives me $13.00 a month.
+I'd be proud to git it if it wasn't more'n a dollar, 'cause they ain't nothin'
+a old man can do no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420055" id="nr420055"></a>420055</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%">
+<img src="images/4williamadams.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="William Adams" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">William Adams</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILLIAM ADAMS, 93, was born in
+slavery, with no opportunity
+for an education, except three
+months in a public school. He
+has taught himself to read and
+to write. His lifelong ambition
+has been to become master
+of the supernatural powers which
+he believes to exist. He is now
+well-known among Southwestern
+Negroes for his faith in the
+occult.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Yous want to know and talk about de power de people tells you
+I has. Well, sit down here, right there in dat chair, befo' we'uns
+starts. I gits some ice water and den we'uns can discuss de subject.
+I wants to 'splain it clearly, so yous can understand.</p>
+
+<p>"I's born a slave, 93 years ago, so of course I 'members de
+war period. Like all de other slaves I has no chance for edumacation.
+Three months am de total time I's spent going to school. I teached
+myself to read and write. I's anxious to larn to read so I could
+study and find out about many things. Dat, I has done.</p>
+
+<p>"There am lots of folks, and edumacated ones, too, what says
+we'uns believes in superstition. Well, its 'cause dey don't understand.
+'Member de Lawd, in some of His ways, can be mysterious. De
+Bible says so. There am some things de Lawd wants all folks to know,
+some things jus' de chosen few to know, and some things no one should
+know. Now, jus' 'cause yous don't know 'bout some of de Lawd's laws,
+'taint superstition if some other person understands and believes in
+sich.</p>
+
+<p>"There is some born to sing, some born to preach, and some
+born to know de signs. There is some born under de power of de devil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+and have de power to put injury and misery on people, and some born under
+de power of de Lawd for to do good and overcome de evil power. Now, dat
+produces two forces, like fire and water. De evil forces starts de fire
+and I has de water force to put de fire out.</p>
+
+<p>"How I larnt sich? Well, I's done larn it. It come to me. When
+de Lawd gives sich power to a person, it jus' comes to 'em. It am 40 years
+ago now when I's fust fully realize' dat I has de power. However, I's allus
+int'rested in de workin's of de signs. When I's a little piccaninny, my
+mammy and other folks used to talk about de signs. I hears dem talk about
+what happens to folks 'cause a spell was put on 'em. De old folks in dem
+days knows more about de signs dat de Lawd uses to reveal His laws den de
+folks of today. It am also true of de cullud folks in Africa, dey native
+land. Some of de folks laughs at their beliefs and says it am superstition,
+but it am knowin' how de Lawd reveals His laws.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, let me tell yous of something I's seen. What am seen, can't
+be doubted. It happens when I's a young man and befo' I's realize' dat
+I's one dat am chosen for to show de power. A mule had cut his leg so bad
+dat him am bleedin' to death and dey couldn't stop it. An old cullud man
+live near there dat dey turns to. He comes over and passes his hand over
+de cut. Befo' long de bleedin' stop and dat's de power of de Lawd workin'
+through dat nigger, dat's all it am.</p>
+
+<p>"I knows about a woman dat had lost her mind. De doctor say it
+was caused from a tumor in de head. Dey took an ex-ray picture, but dere's
+no tumor. Dey gives up and says its a peculiar case. Dat woman was took to
+one with de power of de good spirit and he say its a peculiar case for dem
+dat don't understand. Dis am a case of de evil spell. Two days after, de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
+woman have her mind back.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey's lots of dose kind of cases de ord'nary person never
+hear about. Yous hear of de case de doctors can't understand, nor will
+dey 'spond to treatment. Dat am 'cause of de evil spell dat am on de
+persons.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout special persons bein' chosen for to show de power,
+read yous Bible. It says in de book of Mark, third chapter, 'and He
+ordained twelve, dat dey should be with Him, dat He might send them forth
+to preach and to have de power to heal de sick and to cast out devils.'
+If it wasn't no evil in people, why does de Lawd say, 'cast out sich?'
+And in de fifth chapter of James, it further say, 'If any am sick, let
+him call de elders. Let dem pray over him. De prayers of faith shall
+save him.' There 'tis again, Faith, dat am what counts.</p>
+
+<p>"When I tells dat I seen many persons given up to die, and
+den a man with de power comes and saves sich person, den its not for
+people to say it am superstition to believe in de power.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't forgit&mdash;de agents of de devil have de power of evil.
+Dey can put misery of every kind on people. Dey can make trouble with
+de work and with de business, with de fam'ly and with de health. So
+folks mus' be on de watch all de time. Folks has business trouble 'cause
+de evil power have control of 'em. Dey has de evil power cast out and
+save de business. There am a man in Waco dat come to see me 'bout dat.
+He say to me everything he try to do in de las' six months turned out
+wrong. It starts with him losin' his pocketbook with $50.00 in it. He
+buys a carload of hay and it catch fire and he los' all of it. He spends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+$200.00 advertisin' de three-day sale and it begin to rain, so he los'
+money. It sho' am de evil power.</p>
+
+<p>"'Well,' he say, 'Dat am de way it go, so I comes to you.'</p>
+
+<p>"I says to him, 'Its de evil power dat have you control and
+we'uns shall cause it to be cast out.' Its done and he has no more
+trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"You wants to know if persons with de power for good can be
+successful in castin' out devils in all cases? Well, I answers dat, yes
+and no. Dey can in every case if de affected person have de faith. If
+de party not have enough faith, den it am a failure.</p>
+
+<p>"Wearin' de coin for protection 'gainst de evil power? Dat
+am simple. Lots of folks wears sich and dey uses mixtures dat am sprinkled
+in de house, and sich. Dat am a question of faith. If dey has de
+true faith in sich, it works. Otherwise, it won't.</p>
+
+<p>"Some folks won't think for a minute of goin' without lodestone
+or de salt and pepper mixture in de little sack, tied round dey
+neck. Some wears de silver coin tied round dey neck. All sich am for
+to keep away de effect of de evil power. When one have de faith in sich
+and dey acc'dently lose de charm, dey sho' am miserable.</p>
+
+<p>"An old darky dat has faith in lodestone for de charm told
+me de 'sperience he has in Atlanta once. He carryin' de hod and de
+fust thing he does am drop some brick on he foot. De next thing, he
+foot slip as him starts up de ladder and him and de bricks drap to de
+ground. It am lucky for him it wasn't far. Jus' a sprain ankle and
+de boss sends him home for de day. He am 'cited and gits on de street
+car and when de conductor call for de fare, Rufus reaches for he money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
+but he los' it or fergits it at home. De conductor say he let him pay
+nex' time and asks where he live. Rufus tells him and he say, 'Why,
+nigger, you is on de wrong car.' Dat cause Rufus to walk further with
+de lame foot dan if he started walkin' in de fust place. He thinks there
+mus' be something wrong with he charm, and he look for it and it gone!
+Sho' 'nough, it am los'. He think, 'Here I sits all day, and I won't
+make another move till I gits de lodestone. When de chillen comes from
+school I sends dem to de drugstore for some of de stone and gits fixed.'</p>
+
+<p>"Now, now, I's been waitin' for dat one 'bout de black cat
+crossin' de road, and, sho' 'nough, it come. Let me ask you one. How
+many people can yous find dat likes to have de black cat cross in front
+of 'em? Dat's right, no one likes dat. Let dis old cullud person inform
+yous dat it am sho' de bad luck sign. It is sign of bad luck ahead,
+so turn back. Stop what yous doin'.</p>
+
+<p>"I's tellin' yous of two of many cases of failure to took
+warnin' from de black cat. I knows a man call' Miller. His wife and him
+am takin' an auto ride and de black cat cross de road and he cussed a
+little and goes on. Den it's not long till he turns de corner and his wife
+falls out of de car durin' de turn. When he goes back and picks her up,
+she am dead.</p>
+
+<p>"Another fellow, call' Brown, was a-ridin' hossback and a
+black cat cross de path, but he drives on. Well, its not long till him
+hoss stumble and throw him off. De fall breaks his leg, so take a
+warnin'&mdash;don't overlook de black cat. Dat am a warnin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420192" id="nr420192"></a>420192</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILLIAM M. ADAMS, spiritualist
+preacher and healer, who lives
+at 1404 Illinois Ave., Ft. Worth,
+Texas, was born a slave on the
+James Davis plantation, in San
+Jacinto Co., Texas. After the
+war he worked in a grocery,
+punched cattle, farmed and preached.
+He moved to Ft. Worth in 1902.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was bo'n 93 years ago, dat is whut my mother says.
+We didn' keep no record like folks does today. All I know is
+I been yere a long time. My mother, she was Julia Adams and
+my father he was James Adams. She's bo'n in Hollis Springs,
+Mississippi and my father, now den, he was bo'n in Florida.
+He was a Black Creek Indian. Dere was 12 of us chillen. When
+I was 'bout seven de missus, she come and gits me for her servant.
+I lived in de big house till she die. Her and Marster
+Davis was powerful good to me.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Davis he was a big lawyer and de owner of a
+plantation. But all I do was wait on ole missus. I'd light her
+pipe for her and I helped her wid her knittin'. She give me money
+all de time. She had a little trunk she keeped money in and lots
+of times I'd have to pack it down wid my feets.</p>
+
+<p>"I dis'member jus' how many slaves dere was, but dere was
+more'n 100. I saw as much as 100 sold at a time. When dey tuk a
+bunch of slaves to trade, dey put chains on 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"De other slaves lived in log cabins back of de big house.
+Dey had dirt floors and beds dat was made out of co'n shucks or
+straw. At nite dey burned de lamps for 'bout an hour, den de overseers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+dey come knock on de door and tell 'em put de light out. Lots
+of overseers was mean. Sometimes dey'd whip a nigger wid a leather
+strap 'bout a foot wide and long as your arm and wid a wooden handle
+at de end.</p>
+
+<p>"On Sat'day and Sunday nites dey'd dance and sing all nite long.
+Dey didn' dance like today, dey danced de roun' dance and jig and do
+de pigeon wing, and some of dem would jump up and see how many time he
+could kick his feets 'fore dey hit de groun'. Dey had an ole fiddle
+and some of 'em would take two bones in each hand and rattle 'em. Dey
+sang songs like, 'Diana had a Wooden Leg,' and 'A Hand full of Sugar,'
+and 'Cotton-eyed Joe.' I dis'member how dey went.</p>
+
+<p>"De slaves didn' have no church den, but dey'd take a big sugar
+kettle and turn it top down on de groun' and put logs roun' it to kill
+de soun'. Dey'd pray to be free and sing and dance.</p>
+
+<p>"When war come dey come and got de slaves from all de plantations
+and tuk 'em to build de breastworks. I saw lots of soldiers.
+Dey'd sing a song dat go something like dis:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Jeff Davis rode a big white hoss,<br />
+Lincoln rode a mule;<br />
+Jess Davis is our President,<br />
+Lincoln is a fool.'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member when de slaves would run away. Ole John Billinger,
+he had a bunch of dogs and he'd take after runaway niggers. Sometimes
+de dogs didn' ketch de nigger. Den ole Billinger, he'd cuss and kick
+de dogs.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn' have to have a pass but on other plantations dey did,
+or de paddlerollers would git you and whip you. Dey was de poor white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+folks dat didn' have no slaves. We didn' call 'em white folks
+dem days. No, suh, we called dem' Buskrys.'</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' fore de war, a white preacher he come to us slaves and
+says: 'Do you wan' to keep you homes whar you git all to eat, and raise
+your chillen, or do you wan' to be free to roam roun' without a home,
+like de wil' animals? If you wan' to keep you homes you better pray
+for de South to win. All day wan's to pray for de South to win, raise
+the hand.' We all raised our hands 'cause we was skeered not to, but
+we sho' didn' wan' de South to win.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat night all de slaves had a meetin' down in de hollow.
+Ole Uncle Mack, he gits up and says: 'One time over in Virginny dere
+was two ole niggers, Uncle Bob and Uncle Tom. Dey was mad at one
+'nuther and one day dey decided to have a dinner and bury de hatchet.
+So day sat down, and when Uncle Bob wasn't lookin' Uncle Tom put some
+poison in Uncle Bob's food, but he saw it and when Uncle Tom wasn't
+lookin', Uncle Bob he turned de tray roun' on Uncle Tom, and he gits
+de poison food.' Uncle Mack, he says: 'Dat's what we slaves is
+gwine do, jus' turn de tray roun' and pray for de North to win.'</p>
+
+<p>"After de war dere was a lot of excitement 'mong de niggers.
+Dey was rejoicin' and singin'. Some of 'em looked puzzled, sorter
+skeered like. But dey danced and had a big jamboree.</p>
+
+<p>"Lots of 'em stayed and worked on de halves. Others hired
+out. I went to work in a grocery store and he paid me $1.50 a week.
+I give my mother de dollar and keeped de half. Den I got married
+and farmed for awhile. Den I come to Fort Worth and I been yere since.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420198" id="nr420198"></a>420198</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>SARAH ALLEN was born a slave of
+John and Sally Goodren, in the
+Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
+Before the Civil War, her owners
+came to Texas, locating near a
+small town then called Freedom.
+She lives at 3322 Frutas St.,
+El Paso, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was birthed in time of bondage. You know, some people
+are ashamed to tell it, but I thank God I was 'llowed to see them
+times as well as now. It's a pretty hard story, how cruel some of the
+marsters was, but I had the luck to be with good white people. But
+some I knew were put on the block and sold. I 'member when they'd
+come to John Goodren's place to buy, but he not sell any. They'd have
+certain days when they'd sell off the block and they took chillen 'way
+from mothers, screamin' for dere chillen.</p>
+
+<p>"I was birthed in ole Virginia in de Blue Ridge Mountains.
+When de white people come to Texas, de cullud people come with them.
+Dat's been a long time.</p>
+
+<p>"My maw was named Charlotte, my paw Parks Adams. He's a
+white man. I guess I'm about eighty some years ole.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, in slavery times when dey had bad marsters dey'd
+run away, but we didn' want to. My missus would see her people had
+something good to eat every Sunday mornin'. You had to mind your missus
+and marster and you be treated well. I think I was about twelve when
+dey freed us and we stayed with marster 'bout a year, then went to John
+Ecols' place and rented some lan'. We made two bales of cotton and it
+was the first money we ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>"Back when we lived with Marster Goodren we had big candy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+pullin's. Invite everybody and play. We had good times. De worst
+thing, we didn' never have no schoolin' till after I married. Den I
+went to school two weeks. My husban' was teacher. He never was a
+slave. His father bought freedom through a blacksmith shop, some way.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a nice weddin'. My dress was white and trimmed with blue
+ribbon. My second day dress was white with red dots. I had a beautiful
+veil and a wreath and 'bout two, three waiters for table dat day.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother was nearly white. Brighter than me. We lef' my
+father in Virginia. I was jus' as white as de chillen I played with.
+I used to be plum bright, but here lately I'm gettin' awful dark.</p>
+
+<p>"My husban' was of a mixture, like you call bright ginger-cake
+color. I don' know where he got his learnin'. I feel so bad since
+he's gone to Glory.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I'm ole, de Lord has taken care of me. He put that spirit
+in people to look after ole folks and now my chillen look after me.
+I've two sons, one name James Allen, one R.M. Both live in El Paso.</p>
+
+<p>"After we go to sleep, de people will know these things, 'cause
+if freedom hadn' come, it would have been so miserable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420149" id="nr420149"></a>420149</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ANDY ANDERSON, 94, was born a
+slave of Jack Haley, who owned
+a plantation in Williamson Co.,
+Texas. During the Civil War,
+Andy was sold to W.T. House, of
+Blanco County, who in less than
+a year sold Andy to his brother,
+John House. Andy now lives with
+his third wife and eight of his
+children at 301 Armour St., Fort
+Worth, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My name am Andy J. Anderson, and I's born on Massa Jack Haley's
+plantation in Williamson County, Texas, and Massa Haley owned my folks and
+'bout twelve other families of niggers. I's born in 1843 and that makes me
+94 year old and 18 year when de war starts. I's had 'speriences durin' dat
+time.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Haley am kind to his cullud folks, and him am kind to everybody,
+and all de folks likes him. De other white folks called we'uns de petted
+niggers. There am 'bout 30 old and young niggers and 'bout 20 piccaninnies
+too little <a name='TC_2'></a><span class="corr" title="too">to</span> work, and de nuss cares for dem while dey mammies works.</p>
+
+<p>"I's gwine 'splain how it am managed on Massa Haley's plantation.
+It am sort of like de small town, 'cause everything we uses am made right there.
+There am de shoemaker and he is de tanner and make de leather from de hides.
+Den massa has 'bout a thousand sheep and he gits de wool, and de niggers cards
+and spins and weaves it, and dat makes all de clothes. Den massa have cattle
+and sich purvide de milk and de butter and beef meat for eatin'. Den massa
+have de turkeys and chickens and de hawgs and de bees. With all that, us never
+was hongry.</p>
+
+<p>"De plantation am planted in cotton, mostly, with de corn and de
+wheat a little, 'cause massa don't need much of dem. He never sell nothin'
+but de cotton.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"De livin' for de cullud folks am good. De quarters am built from logs
+like deys all in dem days. De floor am de dirt but we has de benches and
+what is made on de place. And we has de big fireplace for to cook and we
+has plenty to cook in dat fireplace, 'cause massa allus 'lows plenty good
+rations, but he watch close for de wastin' of de food.</p>
+
+<p>"De war breaks and dat make de big change on de massas place. He
+jines de army and hires a man call' Delbridge for overseer. After dat, de
+hell start to pop, 'cause de first thing Delbridge do is cut de rations.
+He weighs out de meat, three pound for de week, and he measure a peck of
+meal. And 'twarn't enough. He half starve us niggers and he want mo' work
+and he start de whippin's. I guesses he starts to edumacate 'em. I guess
+dat Delbridge go to hell when he died, but I don't see how de debbil could
+stand him.</p>
+
+<p>"We'uns am not use' to sich and some runs off. When dey am cotched
+there am a whippin' at de stake. But dat Delbridge, he sold me to Massa
+House, in Blanco County. I's sho' glad when I's sold, but it am short gladness,
+'cause here am another man what hell am too good for. He gives me
+de whippin' and de scars am still on my arms and my back, too. I'll carry
+dem to my grave. He sends me for firewood and when I gits it loaded, de wheel
+hits a stump and de team jerks and dat breaks de whippletree. So he ties me
+to de stake and every half hour for four hours, dey lays ta lashes on my back.
+For de first couple hours de pain am awful. I's never forgot it. Den I's
+stood so much pain I not feel so much and when dey takes me loose, I's jus'
+'bout half dead. I lays in de bunk two days, gittin' over dat whippin', gittin'
+over it in de body but not de heart. No, suh, I has dat in de heart till dis
+day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"After dat whippin' I doesn't have de heart to work for de massa.
+If I seed de cattle in de cornfield, I turns de back, 'stead of chasin'
+'em out. I guess dat de reason de massa sold me to his brother, Massa
+John. And he am good like my first massa, he never whipped me.</p>
+
+<p>"Den surrender am 'nounced and massa tells us we's free. When dat
+takes place, it am 'bout one hour by sun. I says to myself, 'I won't be
+here long.' But I's not realise what I's in for till after I's started,
+but I couldn't turn back. For dat means de whippin' or danger from de
+patter rollers. Dere I was and I kep' on gwine. No nigger am sposed to
+be off de massa's place without de pass, so I travels at night and hides
+durin' de daylight. I stays in de bresh and gits water from de creeks,
+but not much to eat. Twice I's sho' dem patter rollers am passin' while
+I's hidin'.</p>
+
+<p>"I's 21 year old den, but it am de first time I's gone any place,
+'cept to de neighbors, so I's worried 'bout de right way to Massa Haley's
+place. But de mornin' of de third day I comes to he place and I's so hongry
+and tired and scairt for fear Massa Haley not home from de army yit. So I
+finds my pappy and he hides me in he cabin till a week and den luck comes to
+me when Massa Haley come home. He come at night and de next mornin' dat Delbridge
+am shunt off de place, 'cause Massa Haley seed he niggers was all gaunt
+and lots am ran off and de fields am not plowed right, and only half de sheep
+and everything left. So massa say to dat Delbridge, 'Dere am no words can
+'splain what yous done. Git off my place 'fore I smashes you.'</p>
+
+<p>"Den I kin come out from my pappy's cabin and de old massa was glad
+to see me, and he let me stay till freedom am ordered. Dat's de happies'
+time in my life, when I gits back to Massa Haley.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420317" id="nr420317"></a>420317</div>
+
+
+<p>Dibble, Fred, P.W., Beehler, Rheba, P.W.,
+Beaumont, Jefferson, Dist. #3.</p>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>A frail sick man, neatly clad in
+white pajamas lying patiently in
+a clean bed awaiting the end which
+does not seem far away. Although
+we protested against his talking,
+because of his weakness, he told
+a brief story of his life in a
+whisper, his breath very short and
+every word was spoken with great
+effort. His light skin and his
+features denote no characteristic
+of his race, has a bald head with
+a bit of gray hair around the crown
+and a slight growth of gray whiskers
+about his face, is medium in
+height and build. WASH ANDERSON,
+although born in Charleston, S.C.,
+has spent practically all of his
+life in Texas [<i>Handwritten Note</i>: (Beaumont, Texas&mdash;]</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Mos' folks call me Wash Anderson, but dey uster
+call me George. My whole name' George Washington Anderson.
+I was bo'n in Charleston, Sou'f Ca'lina in 1855. Bill Anderson
+was my ol' marster. Dey was two boy' and two gal'
+in his family. We all lef' Charleston and come to Orange,
+Texas, befo' freedom come. I was fo' year' ol' when dey
+mek dat trip."</p>
+
+<p>"I don' 'member nuttin' 'bout Charleston. You see
+where I was bo'n was 'bout two mile' from de city. I went
+back one time in 1917, but I didn' stay dere long."</p>
+
+<p>"My pa was Irvin' Anderson and my mommer was name'
+Eliza. Ol' marster was pretty rough on his niggers. Dey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+tell me he had my gran'daddy beat to death. Dey never
+did beat me."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey made de trip from Charleston 'cross de country
+and settle' in Duncan's Wood' down here in Orange county.
+Dey had a big plantation dere. I dunno if ol' marster
+had money back in Charleston, but I t'ink he must have. He
+had 'bout 25 or 30 slaves on de place."</p>
+
+<p>"Ol' man Anderson he had a big two-story house. It
+was buil' out of logs but it was a big fine house. De
+slaves jis' had little log huts. Dere warn't no flo's to
+'em, nuthin' but de groun'. Dem little huts jis' had one
+room in 'em. Dey was one family to de house, 'cep'n' sometime
+dey put two or t'ree family' to a house. Dey jis'
+herd de slaves in dere like a bunch of pigs."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey uster raise cotton, and co'n, and sugar cane, and
+sich like, but dey didn' uster raise no rice. Dey uster
+sen' stuff to Terry on a railroad to sen' it to market.
+Sometime dey hitch up dey teams and sen' it to Orange and
+Beaumont in wagons. De ol' marster he had a boat, too, and
+sometime he sen' a boatload of his stuff to Beaumont."</p>
+
+<p>"My work was to drive de surrey for de family and look
+atter de hosses and de harness and sich. I jis' have de
+bes' hosses on de place to see atter."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I saw lots of sojers durin' de war. I see 'em
+marchin' by, goin' to Sabine Pass 'bout de time of dat
+battle."</p>
+
+<p>"Back in slavery time dey uster have a white preacher
+to come 'roun' and preach to de cullud folks. But
+I don't 'member much 'bout de songs what dey uster sing."</p>
+
+<p>"I play 'roun' right smart when I was little. Dey
+uster have lots of fun playin' 'hide and seek,' and 'hide
+de switch.' We uster ride stick hosses and play 'roun'
+at all dem t'ings what chillun play at."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey had plenty of hosses and mules and cows on de
+ol' plantation. I had to look atter some of de hosses,
+but dem what I hatter look atter was s'pose to be de bes'
+hosses in de bunch. Like I say, I drive de surrey and
+dey allus have de bes' hosses to pull dat surrey. Dey had
+a log stable. Dey kep' de harness in dere, too. Eb'ryt'ing
+what de stock eat dey raise on de plantation, all
+de co'n and fodder and sich like."</p>
+
+<p>"Atter freedom come I went 'roun' doin' dif'rent kind
+of work. I uster work on steamboats, and on de railroad
+and at sawmillin'. I was a sawyer for a long, long time.
+I work 'roun' in Lou'sana and Arkansas, and Oklahoma, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
+well as in Texas. When I wasn't doin' dem kinds of work,
+I uster work 'roun' at anyt'ing what come to han'. I
+'member one time I was workin' for de Burr Lumber Company
+at Fort Townsend up dere in Arkansas."</p>
+
+<p>"When I was 'bout 36 year' ol' I git marry. I been
+married twice. My fus' wife was name' Hannah and Reverend
+George Childress was de preacher dat marry us. He
+was a cullud preacher. Atter Hannah been dead some time
+I marry my secon' wife. Her name was Tempie Perkins.
+Later on, us sep'rate. Us sep'rate on 'count of money
+matters."</p>
+
+<p>"I b'longs to de Baptis' Chu'ch. Sometime' de preacher
+come 'roun' and see me. He was here a few days ago
+dis week."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="UNCLE_WILLIS_ANDERSON" id="UNCLE_WILLIS_ANDERSON"></a><span class="u">"UNCLE WILLIS ANDERSON"</span></h2>
+
+<p><span class="u">REFERENCES</span></p>
+
+<p>A. Coronado's Children&mdash;J. Frank Dobie,
+Pub. 1929, Austin, Tex.</p>
+
+<p>B. Leon County News&mdash;Centerville, Texas&mdash;Thursday
+May 21, 1936.</p>
+
+<p>C. Consultant&mdash;Uncle Willis Anderson,
+resident of Centerville, Tex,
+born April 15, 1844.</p>
+
+
+<p>An interesting character at Centerville, Texas, is "Uncle Willis"
+Anderson, an ex-slave, born April 15, 1844, 6 miles west of Centerville on the
+old McDaniels plantation near what is now known as Hopewell Settlement. It
+is generally said that "Uncle Willis" is one of the oldest living citizens in
+the County, black or white. He is referred to generally for information concerning
+days gone by and for the history of that County, especially in the immediate
+vicinity of Centerville.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Willis" is an interesting figure. He may be found sitting
+on the porches of the stores facing Federal Highway No. 75, nodding or conversing
+with small groups of white or colored people that gather around him
+telling of the days gone by. He also likes to watch the busses and automobiles
+that pass through the small town musing and commenting on the swiftness of things
+today. Uncle Willis still cultivates a small patch five miles out from the town.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Willis" is a tall dark, brown-skinned man having a large
+head covered with mixed gray wooly hair. He has lost very few teeth considering
+his age. When sitting on the porches of the stores the soles of his farm-shoes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
+may be seen tied together with pieces of wire. He supports himself with a
+cane made from the Elm tree. At present he wears a tall white Texas Centennial
+hat which makes him appear more unique than ever.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Willis'" memory is vivid. He is familiar with the older figures
+in the history of the County. He tells tales of having travelled by
+oxen to West Texas for flour and being gone for six months at a time. He remembers
+the Keechi and the Kickapoo Indians and also claims that he can point
+out a tree where the Americans hung an Indian Chief. He says that he has
+plowed up arrows, pots and flints on the Reubens Bains place and on the McDaniel
+farms. He can tell of the early lawlessness in the County. His face
+lights up when he recalls how the Yankee soldiers came through Centerville
+telling the slave owners to free their slaves. He also talks very low when
+he mentions the name of Jeff Davis because he says, "Wha' man eavesdrops
+the niggers houses in slavery time and if yer' sed' that Jeff Davis was a good
+man, they barbecued a hog for you, but if yer' sed' that Abe Lincoln was a
+good man, yer' had to fight or go to the woods."</p>
+
+<p>Among the most interesting tales told by "Uncle Willis" is the
+tale of the "Lead mine." "Uncle Willis" says that some where along Boggy
+Creek near a large hickory tree and a red oak tree, near Patrick's Lake, he
+and his master, Auss McDaniels, would dig lead out of the ground which they
+used to make pistol and rifle balls for the old Mississippi rifles during
+slavery time. Uncle Willis claims that they would dig slags of lead out of the
+ground some 12 and 15 inches long, and others as large as a man's fist. They
+would carry this ore back to the big house and melt it down to get the trash
+out of it, then they would pour it into molds and make rifle balls and pistol<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+balls from it. In this way they kept plenty of amunition on hand. In recent
+years the land has changed ownership, and the present owners live in Dallas.
+Learning of the tale of the "lead mine" on their property they went to
+Centerville in an attempt to locate it and were referred to "Uncle Willis."
+Uncle Willis says they offered him two hundred dollars if he could locate
+the mine. Being so sure that he knew its exact location, said that the $200
+was his meat. However, Uncle Willis was unable to locate the spot where they
+dug the lead and the mine remains a mystery.[C]</p>
+
+<p>Recently a group of citizens of Leon County including W.D. Lacey,
+Joe McDaniel, Debbs Brown, W.H. Hill and Judge Lacey cross questioned Uncle
+Willis about the lead mine. Judge Lacey did the questioning while them others
+formed an audience. The conversation went as follows:</p>
+
+<p>"Which way would you go when you went to the mine?" Judge Lacey
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Out tow'hd Normangee."</p>
+
+<p>"How long would it take you to get there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two or three hours."</p>
+
+<p>"Was it on a creek?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yessuh."</p>
+
+<p>"But you cant go to it now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nosuh, I just can't recollect exactly where 'tis.[B]</p>
+
+<p>J. Frank Dobie mentions many tales of lost lead mines throughout Texas
+in Coronado's Children, a publication of the Texas Folk-Lore Society.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
+Lead in the early days of the Republic and the State was very valuable,
+as it was the source of protection from the Indians and also the means of supplying
+food.[A]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420056" id="nr420056"></a>420056</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/25maryarmstrong.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Mary Armstrong" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Mary Armstrong</span>
+
+</div>
+<div class="intro"><p>MARY ARMSTRONG, 91, lives
+at 3326 Pierce Ave., Houston,
+Texas. She was born
+on a farm near St. Louis,
+Missouri, a slave of William
+Cleveland. Her father,
+Sam Adams, belonged to a
+"nigger trader," who had a
+farm adjoining the Cleveland
+place.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's Aunt Mary, all right, but you all has to 'scuse me if I
+don't talk so good, 'cause I's been feelin' poorly for a spell and I
+ain't so young no more. Law me, when I think back what I used to do,
+and now it's all I can do to hobble 'round a little. Why, Miss Olivia,
+my mistress, used to put a glass plumb full of water on my head and
+then have me waltz 'round the room, and I'd dance so smoothlike, I
+don't spill nary drap.</p>
+
+<p>"That was in St. Louis, where I's born. You see, my mamma belong
+to old William Cleveland and old Polly Cleveland, and they was the meanest
+two white folks what ever lived, 'cause they was allus beatin' on
+their slaves. I know, 'cause mamma told me, and I hears about it other
+places, and besides, old Polly, she was a Polly devil if there ever was
+one, and she whipped my little sister what was only nine months old and
+jes' a baby to death. She come and took the diaper offen my little sister
+and whipped till the blood jes' ran&mdash;jes' 'cause she cry like all
+babies do, and it kilt my sister. I never forgot that, but I sot some
+even with that old Polly devil and it's this-a-way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You see, I's 'bout 10 year old and I belongs to Miss Olivia,
+what was that old Polly's daughter, and one day old Polly devil comes
+to where Miss Olivia lives after she marries, and trys to give me a
+lick out in the yard, and I picks up a rock 'bout as big as half your
+fist and hits her right in the eye and busted the eyeball, and tells
+her that's for whippin' my baby sister to death. You could hear her
+holler for five miles, but Miss Olivia, when I tells her, says, 'Well,
+I guess mamma has larnt her lesson at last.' But that old Polly was
+mean like her husban', old Cleveland, till she die, and I hopes they
+is burnin' in torment now.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'member 'bout the start of things so much, 'cept what
+Miss Olivia and my mamma, her name was Siby, tells me. Course, it's
+powerful cold in winter times and the farms was lots different from down
+here. They calls 'em plantations down here but up at St. Louis they was
+jes' called farms, and that's what they was, 'cause we raises wheat and
+barley and rye and oats and corn and fruit.</p>
+
+<p>"The houses was builded with brick and heavy wood, too, 'cause
+it's cold up there, and we has to wear the warm clothes and they's wove
+on the place, and we works at it in the evenin's.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Cleveland takes a lot of his slaves what was in 'custom'
+and brings 'em to Texas to sell. You know, he wasn't sposed to do that,
+'cause when you's in 'custom', that's 'cause he borrowed money on you,
+and you's not sposed to leave the place till he paid up. Course, old
+Cleveland jes' tells the one he owed the money to, you had run off, or
+squirmed out some way, he was that mean.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mamma say she was in one bunch and me in 'nother. Mamma had been
+put 'fore this with my papa, Sam Adams, but that makes no diff'rence to Old
+Cleveland. He's so mean he never would sell the man and woman and chillen to
+the same one. He'd sell the man here and the woman there and if they's chillen,
+he'd sell them some place else. Oh, old Satan in torment couldn't be no meaner
+than what he and Old Polly was to they slaves. He'd chain a nigger up to
+whip 'em and rub salt and pepper on him, like he said, 'to season him up.'
+And when he'd sell a slave, he'd grease their mouth all up to make it look
+like they'd been fed good and was strong and healthy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well mamma say they hadn't no more'n got to Shreveport 'fore some
+law man cotch old Cleveland and takes 'em all back to St. Louis. Then my
+little sister's born, the one old Polly devil kilt, and I's 'bout four year
+old then.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Olivia takes a likin' to me and, though her papa and mama
+so mean, she's kind to everyone, and they jes' love her. She marries to Mr.
+Will Adams what was a fine man, and has 'bout five farms and 500 slaves, and he
+buys me for her from old Cleveland and pays him $2,500.00, and gives him George
+Henry, a nigger, to boot. Lawsy, I's sho' happy to be with Miss Olivia and
+away from old Cleveland and Old Polly, 'cause they kilt my little sister.</p>
+
+<p>"We lives in St. Louis, on Chinquapin Hill, and I's housegirl, and
+when the babies starts to come I nusses 'em and spins thread for clothes on
+the loom. I spins six cuts of thread a week, but I has plenty of time for myself
+and that's where I larns to dance so good. Law, I sho' jes' crazy 'bout
+dancin'. If I's settin' eatin' my victuals and hears a fiddle play, I gets up
+and dances.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Will and Miss Olivia sho' is good to me, and I never calls
+Mr. Will 'massa' neither, but when they's company I calls him Mr. Will and
+'round the house by ourselves I calls them 'pappy' and 'mammy', 'cause they
+raises me up from the little girl. I hears old Cleveland done took my mamma
+to Texas 'gain but I couldn't do nothin', 'cause Miss Olivia wouldn't have
+much truck with her folks. Once in a while old Polly comes over, but Miss
+Olivia tells her not to touch me or the others. Old Polly trys to buy me
+back from Miss Olivia, and if they had they'd kilt me sho'. But Miss Olivia
+say, 'I'd wade in blood as deep as Hell 'fore I'd let you have Mary.' That's
+jes' the very words she told 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I hears my papa is sold some place I don't know where. 'Course,
+I didn't know him so well, jes' what mamma done told me, so that didn't worry
+me like mamma being took so far away.</p>
+
+<p>"One day Mr. Will say, 'Mary, you want to go to the river and see
+the boat race?' Law me, I never won't forget that. Where we live it ain't far
+to the Miss'sippi River and pretty soon here they comes, the Natchez and the
+Eclipse, with smoke and fire jes' pourin' out of they smokestacks. That old
+captain on the 'Clipse starts puttin' in bacon meat in the boiler and the
+grease jes' comes out a-blazin' and it beat the Natchez to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>"I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr. Will set us all free. I was
+'bout 17 year old then or more. I <a name='TC_3'></a><span class="corr" title="way">say</span> I goin' find my mamma. Mr. Will fixes
+me up two papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some smaller, but both
+has big, gold seals what he says is the seal of the State of Missouri. He
+gives me money and buys my fare ticket to Texas and tells me they is still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+slave times down here and to put the papers in my bosom but to do whatever the
+white folks tells me, even if they wants to sell me. But he say, 'Fore you gets
+off the block, jes' pull out the papers, but jes' hold 'em up to let folks see and
+don't let 'em out of your hands, and when they sees them they has to let you alone.'</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Olivia cry and carry on and say be careful of myself 'cause it sho'
+rough in Texas. She give me a big basket what had so much to eat in it I couldn't
+hardly heft it and 'nother with clothes in it. They puts me in the back end a
+the boat where the big, old wheel what run the boat was and I goes to New Orleans,
+and the captain puts me on 'nother boat and I comes to Galveston, and that captain
+puts me on 'nother boat and I comes up this here Buffalo Bayou to Houston.</p>
+
+<p>"I looks 'round Houston, but not long. It sho' was a dumpy little place
+then and I gets the stagecoach to Austin. It takes us two days to get there and I
+thinks my back busted sho' 'nough, it was sich rough ridin'. Then I has trouble
+sho'. A man asks me where I goin' and says to come 'long and he takes me to a
+Mr. Charley Crosby. They takes me to the block what they sells slaves on. I
+gets right up like they tells me, 'cause I 'lects what Mr. Will done told me to
+do, and they starts biddin' on me. And when they cried off and this Mr. Crosby
+comes up to get me, I jes' pulled out my papers and helt 'em up high and when he
+sees 'em, he say, 'Let me see them.' But I says, 'You jes' look at it up here,'
+and he squints up and say, 'This gal am free and has papers,' and tells me he
+a legislature man and takes me and lets me stay with his slaves. He is a good
+man.</p>
+
+<p>"He tells me there's a slave refugee camp in Wharton County but I
+didn't have no money left, but he pays me some for workin' and when the war's
+over I starts to hunt mamma 'gain, and finds her in Wharton County near where
+Wharton is. Law me, talk 'bout cryin' and singin' and cryin' some more, we
+sure done it. I stays with mamma till I gets married in 1871 to John Armstrong,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+and then we all comes to Houston.</p>
+
+<p>"I gets me a job nussin' for Dr. Rellaford and was all through
+the yellow fever epidemic. I 'lects in '75 people die jes' like sheep
+with the rots. I's seen folks with the fever jump from their bed with
+death on 'em and grab other folks. The doctor saved lots of folks,
+white and black, 'cause he sweat it out of 'em. He mixed up hot water
+and vinegar and mustard and some else in it.</p>
+
+<p>"But, law me, so much is gone out of my mind, 'cause I's 91
+year old now and my mind jes' like my legs, jes' kinda hobble 'round
+a bit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420085" id="nr420085"></a>420085</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/31sterlinarnwine.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Sterlin Arnwine" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Sterlin Arnwine</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>STEARLIN ARNWINE, 94, was born a
+slave to Albertus Arnwine, near
+Jacksonville, Texas, who died
+when Stearlin was seven or eight.
+He was bought by John Moseley,
+of Rusk, Texas, who made Stearlin
+a houseboy, and was very kind to
+him. He now lives about six miles
+west of Jacksonville.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was bo'n 'fore de war, in 1853, right near this here
+town, on Gum Creek. My mammy belonged to Massa Albertus Arnwine,
+and he wasn' ever married. He owned four women, my mammy, Ann, my
+grandmother, Gracie, and my Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary. He didn'
+own any nigger men, 'cept the chillen of these women. Grandma
+lived in de house with Massa Arnwine and the rest of us lived in
+cabins in de ya'd. My mammy come from Memphis but I don' know
+whar my pappy come from. He was Ike Lane. I has three half brothers,
+and their names is Joe and Will and John Schot, and two sisters
+called Polly and Rosie.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Arnwine died 'fore de war and he made a will and
+it gave all he owned to the women he owned, and Jedge Jowell promised
+massa on his deathbed he would take us to de free country, but he
+didn'. He took us to his place to work for him for 'bout two years
+and the women never did get that 900 acres of land Massa Arnwine willed
+to'em. I don' know who got it, but they didn'. I knows I still has a
+share in that land, but it takes money to git it in cou't.</p>
+
+<p>"When war broke I fell into the han's of Massa John Moseley
+at Rusk. They brought the dogs to roun' us up from the fiel's whar we
+was workin'. I was the only one of my fam'ly to go to Massa John.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I never did wo'k in the fiel's at Massa John's place. He said
+I mus' be his houseboy and houseboy I was. Massa was sho' good to me
+and I did love to be with him and follow him 'roun'.</p>
+
+<p>"The kitchen was out in de ya'd and I had to carry the victuals
+to the big dinin'-room. When dinner was over, Massa John tuk a nap and
+I had to fan him, and Lawsy me, I'd git so sleepy. I kin hear him now,
+for he'd wake up and say, 'Go get me a drink outta the northeast corner
+of de well.'</p>
+
+<p>"We had straw and grass beds, we put it in sacks on de groun' and
+slep' on de sacks. I don' 'member how much land Massa John had but it
+was a big place and he had lots of slaves. We chillun had supper early
+in de evenin' and mostly cornbread and hawg meat and milk. We all ate
+from a big pot. I larned to spin and weave and knit and made lots of
+socks.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa John had two step-daughters, Miss Mollie and Miss Laura,
+and they wen' to school at Rusk. It was my job to take 'em thar ev'ry
+Monday mornin' on horses and go back after 'em Friday afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>"I never earnt no money 'fore freedom come, but once my brother-in-law
+give me five dollars. I was so proud of it I showed it to de
+ladies and one of 'em said, 'You don' need dat,' and she give me two
+sticks of candy and tuk de money. But I didn' know any better then.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed slaves for sale on de auction block. They sol' 'em
+'cordin' to strengt' and muscles. They was stripped to de wais'.
+I seed the women and little chillun cryin' and beggin' not to be separated,
+but it didn' do no good. They had to go.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The only chu'ch I knowed 'bout was when we'd git together in de
+night and have prayer meetin' and singin.' We use' to go way out in de
+woods so de white folks wouldn' hear nothin'. Sometimes we'd stay nearly
+all night on Saturday, 'cause we didn' have to work Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout the only thing we could play was stick hosses. I made
+miles and miles on the stick hosses. After the War Massa John have
+his chillun a big roll of Confederate money and they give us some of it
+to trade and buy stick hosses with.</p>
+
+<p>"When Massa John tol' us we was free, he didn' seem to min', but
+Miss Em, she bawled and squalled, say her prop'ty taken 'way from her.
+After dat, my mammy gathers us togedder and tuk us to the Dr. Middleton
+place, out from Jacksonville. From thar to de Ragsdale place whar I's
+been ever since.</p>
+
+<p>"I wore my first pants when I was fourteen years ole, and they stung
+'till I was mis'ble. The cloth was store bought but mammy made the pants
+at home. It was what we called dog-hair cloth. Mammy made my first shoes,
+we called 'em 'red rippers'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420075" id="nr420075"></a>420075</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/34sarahashley.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Sarah Ashley" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Sarah Ashley</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>SARAH ASHLEY, 93, was born in
+Mississippi. She recalls her
+experiences when sold on the
+block in New Orleans, and on
+a cotton plantation in Texas.
+She now lives at Goodrich,
+Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I ain't able to do nothin' no more. I's jus' plumb give
+out and I stays here by myself. My daughter, Georgia Grime, she
+used to live with me but she's been dead four year.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born in Miss'ippi and Massa Henry Thomas buy us
+and bring us here. He a spec'lator and buys up lots of niggers
+and sells 'em. Us family was sep'rated. My two sisters and my
+papa was sold to a man in Georgia. Den dey put me on a block and
+bid me off. Dat in New Orleans and I scairt and cry, but dey put
+me up dere anyway. First dey takes me to Georgia and dey didn't
+sell me for a long spell. Massa Thomas he travel round and buy and
+sell niggers. Us stay in de spec'lators drove de long time.</p>
+
+<p>"After 'while Massa Mose Davis come from Cold Spring, in
+Texas, and buys us. He was buyin' up little chillen for he chillen.
+Dat 'bout four year befo' da first war. I was 19 year old when de
+burst of freedom come in June and I git turn loose.</p>
+
+<p>"I was workin' in de field den. Jus' befo' dat de old Massa
+he go off and buy more niggers. He go east. He on a boat what git stove
+up and he die and never come back no more. Us never see him no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I used to have to pick cotton and sometime I pick 300 pound
+and tote it a mile to de cotton house. Some pick 300 to 800 pound
+cotton and have to tote de bag de whole mile to de gin. Iffen dey
+didn't do dey work dey git whip till dey have blister on 'em. Den
+iffen dey didn't do it, de man on a hoss goes down de rows and whip
+with a paddle make with holes in it and bus' de blisters. I never
+git whip, 'cause I allus git my 300 pound. Us have to go early to do
+dat, when de horn goes early, befo' daylight. Us have to take de
+victuals in de bucket to de field.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa have de log house and us live in little houses,
+strowed in long rows. Dere wasn't no meetin's 'lowed in de quarters
+and iffen dey have prayer meetin' de boss man whip dem. Sometime us
+run off at night and go to camp meetin'. I takes de white chillen
+to church sometime, but dey couldn't larn me to sing no songs 'cause
+I didn' have no spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"Us never got 'nough to eat, so us keeps stealin' stuff.
+Us has to. Dey give us de peck of meal to last de week and two, three
+pound bacon in chunk. Us never have flour or sugar, jus' cornmeal and
+de meat and 'taters. De niggers has de big box under de fireplace, where
+dey kep' all de pig and chickens what dey steal, down in salt.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed a man run away and de white men got de dogs and dey
+kotch him and put him in de front room and he jump through de big window
+and break de glass all up. Dey sho' whips him when dey kotches him.</p>
+
+<p>"De way dey whip de niggers was to strip 'em off naked and whip
+'em till dey make blisters and bus' de blisters. Den dey take de salt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
+and red pepper and put in de wounds. After dey wash and grease dem and put
+somethin' on dem, to keep dem from bleed to death.</p>
+
+<p>"When de boss man told us freedom was come he didn't like it, but
+he give all us de bale of cotton and some corn. He ask us to stay and he'p
+with de crop but we'uns so glad to git 'way dat nobody stays. I got 'bout
+fifty dollars for de cotton and den I lends it to a nigger what never pays
+me back yit. Den I got no place to go, so I cooks for a white man name'
+Dick Cole. He sposen give me $5.00 de month but he never paid me no money.
+He'd give me eats and clothes, 'cause he has de little store.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I's all alone and thinks of dem old times what was so bad,
+and I's ready for de Lawd to call me."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420280" id="nr420280"></a>420280</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>AGATHA BABINO, born a slave of
+Ogis Guidry, near Carenco, Louisiana,
+now lives in a cottage on
+the property of the Blessed Sacrament
+Church, in Beaumont, Texas.
+She says she is at least eighty-seven
+and probably much older.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Old Marse was Ogis Guidry. Old Miss was Laurentine. Dey had
+four chillen, Placid, Alphonse and Mary and Alexandrine, and live in a
+big, one-story house with a gallery and brick pillars. Dey had a big
+place. I 'spect a mile 'cross it, and fifty slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"My mama name was Clarice Richard. She come from South Carolina.
+Papa was Dick Richard. He come from North Carolina. He was slave of old
+Placid Guilbeau. He live near Old Marse. My brothers was Joe and Nicholas
+and Oui and Albert and Maurice, and sisters was Maud and Celestine and
+Pauline.</p>
+
+<p>"Us slaves lived in shabby houses. Dey builded of logs and have dirt
+floor. We have a four foot bench. We pull it to a table and set on it.
+De bed a platform with planks and moss.</p>
+
+<p>"We had Sunday off. Christmas was off, too. Dey give us chicken and
+flour den. But most holidays de white folks has company. Dat mean more work
+for us.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marse bad. He beat us till we bleed. He rub salt and pepper
+in. One time I sweep de yard. Young miss come home from college. She slap
+my face. She want to beat me. Mama say to beat her, so dey did. She took
+de beatin' for me.</p>
+
+<p>"My aunt run off 'cause dey beat her so much. Dey brung her back and
+beat her some more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We have dance outdoors sometime. Somebody play fiddle and banjo.
+We dance de reel and quadrille and buck dance. De men dance dat. If we go
+to dance on 'nother plantation we have to have pass. De patterrollers come
+and make us show de slip. If dey ain't no slip, we git beat.</p>
+
+<p>"I see plenty sojers. Dey fight at Pines and we hear ball go 'zing&mdash;zing.'
+Young marse have blue coat. He put it on and climb a tree to see. De sojers
+come and think he a Yankee. Dey take his gun. Dey turn him loose when dey
+find out he ain't no Yankee.</p>
+
+<p>"When de real Yankees come dey take corn and gooses and hosses. Dey
+don't ask for nothin'. Dey take what dey wants.</p>
+
+<p>"Some masters have chillen by slaves. Some sold dere own chillen.
+Some sot dem free.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come we have to sign up to work for money for a year.
+We couldn't go work for nobody else. After de year some stays, but not long.</p>
+
+<p>"De Ku Klux kill niggers. Dey come to take my uncle. He open de door.
+Dey don't take him but tell him to vote Democrat next day or dey will. Dey
+kilt some niggers what wouldn't vote Democrat.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey kill my old uncle Davis. He won't vote Democrat. Dey shoot him. Den
+dey stand him up and let him fall down. Dey tie him by de feet. Dey drag him
+through de bresh. Dey dare his wife to cry.</p>
+
+<p>"When I thirty I marry Tesisfor Babino. Pere Abadie marry us at Grand
+Coteau. We have dinner with wine. Den come big dance. We have twelve chillen.
+We works in de field in Opelousas. We come here twenty-five year ago. He die
+in 1917. Dey let's me live here. It nice to be near de church. I can go to
+prayers when I wants to.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420164" id="nr420164"></a>420164</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>MRS. JOHN BARCLAY (nee Sarah Sanders)
+Brownwood, Texas was born in Komo,
+Mississippi, September 1, 1853. She
+was born a slave at the North Slades'
+place. Mr. and Mrs. North Slade were
+the only owners she ever had. She
+served as nurse-maid for her marster's
+children and did general housework.
+She, with her mother and father and family
+stayed with the Slades until the end
+of the year after the Civil War. They
+then moved to themselves, hiring out to
+"White Folks."</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My marster and mistress was good to all de slaves dat
+worked for dem. But our over-seer, Jimmy Shearer, was sho'
+mean. One day he done git mad at me for some little somethin'
+and when I take de ashes to de garden he catches me
+and churns me up and down on de groun'. One day he got mad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+at my brother and kicked him end over end, jes' like a stick
+of wood. He would whip us 'til we was raw and then put pepper
+and salt in de sores. If he thought we was too slow in
+doin' anything he would kick us off de groun' and churn us
+up and down. Our punishment depended on de mood of de over-seer.
+I never did see no slaves sold. When we was sick dey
+give us medicine out of drug stores. De over-seer would git
+some coarse cotton cloth to make our work clothes out of and
+den he would make dem so narrow we couldn' hardly' walk.</p>
+
+<p>"There was 1800 acres in Marster Slade's plantation, we
+got up at 5:00 o'clock in de mornin' and de field workers would
+quit after sun-down. We didn' have no jails for slaves. We
+went to church with de white folks and there was a place in de
+back of de church for us to sit.</p>
+
+<p>"I was jes' a child den and us chilluns would gather in
+de back yard and sing songs and play games and dance jigs.
+Song I 'member most is 'The Day is Past and Gone.'</p>
+
+<p>"One time marster found out the over-seer was so mean to
+me, so he discharged him and released me from duty for awhile.</p>
+
+<p>"We never did wear shoes through de week but on Sunday we
+would dress up in our white cotton dresses and put on shoes.</p>
+
+<p>"We wasn't taught to read or write. Our owner didn't
+think anything about it. We had to work if there was work to be
+done. When we got caught up den we could have time off. If any
+of us got sick our mistress would 'tend to us herself. If she
+thought we was sick enough she would call de white doctor.</p>
+
+<p>"When de marster done told us we was free we jumped up and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+down and slapped our hands and shouted 'Glory to God!' Lord,
+child dat was one happy bunch of niggers. Awhile after dat
+some of de slaves told marster dey wanted to stay on with him
+like dey had been but he told 'em no dey couldn't, 'cause dey
+was free. He said he could use some of 'em but dey would have
+to buy what dey got and he would have to pay 'em like men.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was 'bout 18 years old I married John Barclay.
+I's had ten chillun and four gran'-chillun and now I lives by
+myself."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420128" id="nr420128"></a>420128</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOHN BARKER, age 84, Houston.</p>
+
+<p><i>5 photographs marked <span class="u">Green Cumby</span> have
+been assigned to this manuscript&mdash;the 'Green
+Cumby' photos are attached to the proper manuscript
+and the five referred to above are probably
+pictures of <span class="u">John Barker</span></i>.</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOHN BARKER, age 84, was born near
+Cincinnati, Ohio, the property of
+the Barker family, who moved to
+Missouri and later to Texas. He
+and his wife live in a neat cottage
+in Houston, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born a slave. I'm a Malagasser (Madagascar) nigger.
+I 'member all 'bout dem times, even up in Ohio, though de Barkers
+brought me to Texas later on. My mother and father was call Goodman,
+but dey died when I was little and Missy Barker raised me
+on de plantation down near Houston. Dey was plenty of work and
+plenty of room.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member my grandma and grandpa. In dem days de horned
+toads runs over de world and my grandpa would gather 'em and lay
+'em in de fireplace till dey dried and roll 'em with bottles till
+dey like ashes and den rub it on de shoe bottoms. You see, when dey
+wants to run away, dat stuff don't stick all on de shoes, it stick to
+de track. Den dey carries some of dat powder and throws it as far as
+dey could jump and den jump over it, and do dat again till dey use all
+de powder. Dat throwed de common hounds off de trail altogether. But
+dey have de bloodhounds, hell hounds, we calls 'em, and dey could pick
+up dat trail. Dey run my grandpa over 100 mile and three or four days
+and nights and found him under a bridge. What dey put on him was
+enough! I seen 'em whip runaway niggers till de blood run down dere
+backs and den put salt in de places.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'spect dere was 'bout 40 or 50 acres in de plantation. Dey
+worked and worked and didn't have no dances or church. Dances nothin!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My massa and missus house was nice, but it was a log house.
+They had big fireplaces what took great big chunks of wood and kep' fire
+all night. We lives in de back in a little bitty house like a chicken
+house. We makes beds out of posts and slats across 'em and fills tow
+sacks with shucks in 'em for mattress and pillows.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed slaves sold and they was yoked like steers and sold by
+pairs sometimes. Dey wasn't 'lowed to marry, 'cause they could be sold
+and it wasn't no use, but you could live with 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"We used to eat possums and dese old-fashioned coons and ducks.
+Sometimes we'd eat goats, too. We has plenty cornmeal and 'lasses and
+we gets milk sometimes, but we has no fine food, 'cept on Christmas, we
+gits some cake, maybe.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandma says one day dat we all is free, but we stayed
+with Massa Barker quite a while. Dey pays us for workin' but it ain't
+much pay, 'cause de war done took dere money and all. But they was good
+to us, so we stayed.</p>
+
+<p>"I was 'bout 20 when I marries de fust time. It was a big blow-out
+and I was scared de whole time. First time I ever tackled marryin'.
+Dey had a big paper sack of rice and throwed it all over her and I, enough
+rice to last three or four days, throwed away jus' for nothin'. I had on
+a black, alpaca suit with frock tail coat and, if I ain't mistaken, a right
+white shirt. My wife have a great train on her dress and one dem things
+you call a wreath. I wore de loudest shoes we could find, what you call
+patent leather.</p>
+
+<p>"Dis here my third wife. We marries in Eagle Pass and comes up
+to de Seminole Reservation and works for de army till we goes to work for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+de Pattersons, and we been here 23 years now.</p>
+
+<p>"Ghosties? I was takin' care of a white man when he died and
+I seed something 'bout three feet high and black. I reckon I must have
+fainted 'cause they has de doctor for me. And on dark nights I seed
+ghosties what has no head. Dey looks like dey wild and dey is all in different
+performance. When I goin' down de road and feel a hot steam and look
+over my shoulder I can see 'em plain as you standin' dere. I seed 'em when
+my wife was with me, but she can't see 'em, 'cause some people ain't gifted
+to see 'em.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420133" id="nr420133"></a>420133</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOE BARNES, 89, was born in
+Tyler Co., Texas, on Jim Sapp's
+plantation. He is very feeble,
+but keeps his great grandchildren
+in line while their mother works.
+They live in Beaumont. Joe is
+tall, slight, and has gray hair
+and a stubby gray mustache. In
+his kind, gentle voice he relates
+his experiences in slavery days.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Dey calls me Paul Barnes, but my name ain't Paul, it am Joe.
+My massa was Jim Sapp, up here in Tyler County, and missus' name was
+Ann. De Sapp place was big and dey raise' a sight of cotton and corn.
+Old massa Jim he have 'bout 25 or 30 slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy's name was Artimisi, but dey call her Emily, and
+pa's name Jerry Wooten, 'cause he live on de Wooten place. My steppa
+named Barnes and I taken dat name. My parents, dey have de broomstick
+weddin'.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's a chile us play marbles and run rabbits and ride
+de stick hoss and de like. When I gits more bigger, us play ball, sort
+of like baseball. One time my brudder go git de hosses and dey lots
+of rain and de creek swoll up high. De water so fast it wash him off he
+hoss and I ain't seed him since. Dey never find de body. He's 'bout
+ten year old den.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa live in de big box house and de quarters am in a row
+in de back. Some of dem box and some of dem log. Dey have two rooms.
+Every day de big, old cowhorn blow for dinner and us have de little tin
+cup what us git potlicker in and meat and cornbread and salt bacon. Us
+gits greens, too. De chimneys 'bout four feet wide and dey cooks everything
+in de fireplace. Dey have pots and ovens and put fire below and
+'bove 'em.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I used to wear what I calls a one-button cutaway. It was jis'
+a shirt make out of homespun with pleats down front. Dey make dey own
+cloth dem time.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa marry de folks in de broomstick style. Us don' have de
+party but sometime us sing and play games, like de round dance.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey give de little ones bacon to suck and tie de string to de
+bacon and de other round dey wrists, so dey won't swallow or lose de
+bacon. For de little bits of ones dey rings de bell for dey mommers
+to come from de field and nuss 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom come us stay a year and den move to Beaumont
+and us work in de sawmill for Mr. Jim Long. De fust money I git I give
+to my mammy. Me and mammy and stepdaddy stays in Beaumont two years
+den moves to Tyler and plants de crop. But de next year us move back
+to Beaumont on de Langham place and mammy work for de Longs till she die.</p>
+
+<p>"When I git marry I marry Dicey Allen and she die and I never
+marry no more. I worked in sawmillin' and on de log pond and allus gits
+by pretty good. I ain't done no work much de last ten year, I's too old.</p>
+
+<p>"I sort a looks after my grandchillen and I sho' loves dem. I
+sits 'round and hurts all de time. It am rheumatism in de feets, I reckon.
+I got six grandchillen and three great-grandchillen and dat one you hears
+cryin', dat de baby I's raisin' in dere.</p>
+
+<p>"I's feared I didn't tell you so much 'bout things way back, but
+da truth am, I can't 'member like I used to.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420166" id="nr420166"></a>420166</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ARMSTEAD BARRETT, born in 1847, was a
+slave of Stafford Barrett, who lived
+in Huntsville, Texas. He is the husband
+of Harriett Barrett. Armstead has a
+very poor memory and can tell little
+about early days. He and Harriet receive
+old age pensions.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's really owned by Massa Stafford Barrett, but my mammy 'longed
+to Massa Ben Walker and was 'lowed to keep me with her. So after we'uns
+got free, I lives with my daddy and mammy and goes by de name of Barrett.
+Daddy's name was Henry Barrett and he's brung to Texas from Richmond, in
+Virginny, and mammy come from Kentucky. Us all lived in Huntsville. I
+waited on Miss Ann and mammy was cook.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa have doctor for us when us sick. We's too val'ble. Jus'
+like to de fat beef, massa am good to us. Massa go to other states and git
+men and women and chile slaves and bring dem back to sell, 'cause he spec'lator.
+He make dem wash up good and den sell dem.</p>
+
+<p>"Mos' time we'uns went naked. Jus' have on one shirt or no shirt
+a-tall.</p>
+
+<p>"I know when peace 'clared dey all shoutin'. One woman hollerin' and
+a white man with de high-steppin' hoss ride clost to her and I see him git
+out and open he knife and cut her wide 'cross de stomach. Den he put he hat
+inside he shirt and rid off like lightnin'. De woman put in wagon and I never
+heered no more 'bout her.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't git nothin' when us freed. Only some cast-off clothes.
+Long time after I rents de place on halves and farms most my life. Now I's
+too old to work and gits a pension to live on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I seems to think us have more freedom when us slaves, 'cause we have
+no 'sponsibility for sickness den. We have to take care all dat now and
+de white man, he beats de nigger out what he makes. Back in de old days,
+de white men am hones'. All the nigger knowed was hard work. I think de
+cullud folks ought to be 'lowed more privileges in votin' now, 'cause dey
+have de same 'sponsibility as white men and day more and more educated and
+brighter and brighter.</p>
+
+<p>"I think our young folks pretty sorry. They wont do right, but I
+'lieve iffen dey could git fair wages dey'd do better. Dey git beat out of
+what dey does, anyway.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member a owner had some slaves and de overseer had it in for
+two of dem. He'd whip dem near every day and dey does all could be did to
+please him. So one day he come to de field and calls one dem slaves and
+dat slave draps he hoe and goes over and grabs dat overseer. Den de other
+slave cut dat overseer's head right slap off and throwed it down one of de
+rows. De owner he fools 'round and sells dem two slaves for $800.00 each
+and dat all de punishment dem two slaves ever got.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420167" id="nr420167"></a>420167</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>HARRIET BARRETT, 86, was born in
+Walker Co., Texas, in 1851, a slave
+of Steve Glass. She now lives in
+Palestine, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Massa Steve Glass, he own my pappy and mammy and me, until the
+war freed us. Pappy's borned in Africy and mammy in Virginy, and brung
+to Texas 'fore de war, and I's borned in Texas in 1851. I's heered my
+grandpa was wild and dey didn't know 'bout marryin' in Africy. My
+brother name Steve Glass and I dunno iffen I had sisters or not.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey put me to cookin' when I's a li'l kid and people says now dat
+Aunt Harriet am de bes' cook in Madisonville. Massa have great big garden
+and plenty to eat. I's cook big skillet plumb full corn at de time and us
+all have plenty meat. Massa, he step out and kill big deer and put in de
+great big pot and cook it. Then us have cornbread and syrup.</p>
+
+<p>"Us have log quarters with stick posts for bed and deerskin stretch
+over it. Den us pull moss and throw over dat. I have de good massa, bless
+he soul. Missy, she plumb good. She sick all de time and dey never have
+white chillen. Dey live in big, log house, four rooms in it and de great
+hall both ways through it.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa, he have big bunch slaves and work dem long as dey could see
+and den lock 'em up in de quarters at night to keep 'em from runnin' off.
+De patterrollers come and go through de quarters to see if all de niggers
+dere. Dey walk right over us when us sleeps.</p>
+
+<p>"Some slave run off, gwine to de north, and massa he cotch him and give
+him thirty-nine licks with rawhide and lock dem up at night, too, and keep
+chain on him in daytime.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I have de good massa, bless he soul, and missy she plumb good.
+I'll never forgit dem. Massa 'low us have holiday Saturday night and
+go to nigger dance if it on 'nother plantation. Boy, oh boy, de tin
+pan beatin' and de banjo pickin' and de dance all night long.</p>
+
+<p>"When de war start, white missy die, and massa have de preacher.
+She was white angel. Den massa marry Missy Alice Long and she de bad
+woman with us niggers. She hard on us, not like old missy.</p>
+
+<p>"I larned lots of remedies for sick people. Charcoal and onions
+and honey for de li'l baby am good, and camphor for de chills and fever
+and teeth cuttin'. I's boil red oak bark and make tea for fever and make
+cactus weed root tea for fever and chills and colic. De best remedy for
+chills and fever am to git rabbit foot tie on string 'round de neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa, he carry me to war with him, 'cause I's de good cook. In
+dat New Orleans battle he wounded and guns roarin' everywhere. Dey brung
+massa in and I's jus' as white as he am den. Dem Yankees done shoot de roof
+off de house. I nuss de sick and wounded clean through de war and seed dem
+dyin' on every side of me.</p>
+
+<p>"I's most scared to death when de war end. Us still in New Orleans
+and all de shoutin' dat took place 'cause us free! Dey crowds on de streets
+and was in a stir jus' as thick as flies on de dog. Massa say I's free as
+him, but iffen I wants to cook for him and missy I gits $2.50 de month, so
+I cooks for him till I marries Armstead Barrett, and then us farm for de
+livin'. Us have big church weddin' and I has white loyal dress and black
+brogan shoes. Us been married 51 years now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420150" id="nr420150"></a>420150</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOHN BATES, 84, was born in
+Little Rock, Arkansas, a slave
+of Mock Bateman. When still
+very young, John moved with
+his mother, a slave of Harry
+Hogan, to Limestone Co., Texas.
+John now lives in Corsicana,
+supported by his children and
+an old age pension.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My pappy was Ike Bateman, 'cause his massa's name am
+<a name='TC_4'></a><span class="corr" title="Mockbateman">Mock Bateman</span>, and mammy's name was Francis. They come from Tennessee
+and I had four brothers and six sisters. We jes' left de last part
+of de name off and call it Bates and dat's how I got my name. Mammy
+'longed to Massa Harry Hogan and while I's small us move to Texas, to
+Limestone County, and I don't 'member much 'bout pappy, 'cause I ain't
+never seed him since.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Hogan was a purty good sort of fellow, but us went
+hongry de fust winter in Texas. He lived in de big log house with de
+hallway clean through and a gallery clean 'cross de front. De chimney
+was big 'nough to burn logs in and it sho' throwed out de heat. It was
+a good, big place and young massa come out early and holler for us to
+git up and be in de field.</p>
+
+<p>"Missy Hogan was de good woman and try her dead level best to
+teach me to read and write, but my head jes' too thick, I jes' couldn't
+larn. My Uncle Ben he could read de Bible and he allus tell us some day
+us be free and Massa Harry laugh, haw, haw, haw, and he say, 'Hell, no,
+yous never be free, yous ain't got sense 'nough to make de livin' if yous
+was free.' Den he takes de Bible 'way from Uncle Ben and say it put
+de bad ideas in he head, but Uncle gits 'nother Bible and hides it and
+massa never finds it out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We'uns goes to de big baptisin' one time and it's at de big
+sawmill tank and 50 is baptise' and I's in dat bunch myself. But dey
+didn't have no funerals for de slaves, but jes' bury dem like a cow or
+a hoss, jes' dig de hole and roll 'em in it and cover 'em up.</p>
+
+<p>"War come and durin' dem times jes' like today nearly everybody
+knows what gwine on, news travels purty fast, and iffen de slaves couldn't
+git it with de pass dey slips out after dark and go in another plantation
+by de back way. Course, iffen dem patterrollers cotch dem it jus' too
+bad and dey gits whip.</p>
+
+<p>"When de news comes in dat us free, Massa Harry never call us
+up like everybody else did the slaves, us has to go up and ask him 'bout it.
+He come out on de front gallery and says we is free and turns 'round and
+goes in de house without 'nother word. We all sho' feels sorry for him
+the way he acts and hates to leave him, but we wants to go. We knowed he
+wasn't able to give us nothin' so begins to scatter and 'bout ten or fifteen
+days Massa Harry dies. I think he jes' grieve himself to death, all he
+trouble comin' on him to once.</p>
+
+<p>"Us worked on diff'rent farms till I marries and my fust wife
+am Emma Williams and a cullud preacher marries us at her house. Us picked
+cotton after dat and den I rents a place on de halvers for five year and
+after sev'ral years I buys eighty acres of land. Fin'ly us done paid dat
+out and done some repairs and den us sep'rate after livin' twenty-three
+year together. So I gives dat place to her and de six chillen and I walks
+out ready to start all over 'gain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then I meets Sarah Jones and us marries, but she gives me de
+divorcement. All dis time I works on a farm for de day wages, den I
+rents 'nother farm on de halvers on de black land and stays dere sev'ral
+year. Fin'ly I gits de job workin' at de cotton oil mill in Corsicana
+and stays at dat job till dey says I's too old. I done buy dis li'l home
+here and now has a place to live. Sarah done come back to me and us has
+seven chillen. One of de boys works at de cotton oil mill and two works
+at de compress right here in Corsicana and one works at de beer place in
+Dallas.</p>
+
+<p>"Us raises a li'l on dese two lots and de chillen brings some
+from de farm, I mean my fust wife's chillen, and with de pension check
+us manage to live a li'l longer. Us boys pays de taxes and de insurance
+for us.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420306" id="nr420306"></a>420306</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>HARRISON BECKETT, born a
+slave of I.D. Thomas of
+San Augustine, Texas, now
+lives in Beaumont. A great-grandson
+climbed into Harrison's
+lap during the interview,
+and his genial face
+lit up with a smile. He
+chuckled as he told of his
+own boyhood days, and
+appeared to enjoy reminiscing.
+At times he uses
+big words, some of his own
+coining.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's 'mong de culls now, like a hoss what am too old. I's purty
+small yit when 'mancipation comes and didn't have no hard work. Old Massa
+have me and de other li'l niggers keep de stock out de fields. Us li'l
+boogers have to run and keep de cows out de corn and de cotton patch. Dat
+ought to been 'nough to keep us out of debbilment.</p>
+
+<p>"It come to pass my mammy work in de field. Her name Cynthia Thomas
+and daddy's name Isaac Thomas. But after freedom he goes back to Florida and
+find out he people and git he real name, and dat am Beckett. Dat 'bout ten
+years after 'mancipation he go back to he old home in Florida. Mammy's people
+was de Polkses, in Georgia. Mammy come in from de field at nine or ten
+o'clock at night and she be all wore out and too tired to cook lots of times.
+But she have to git some food for us. We all had a tin pan and git round de
+table and dat like a feast. But lots of times she's so tired she go to bed
+without eatin' nothin' herself.</p>
+
+<p>"My sisters was Ellen and Sani and Georgy-Ann and Cindy and Sidi-Ann.
+Dey's all big 'nough to work in de field. My brudders name Matthew and Ed and
+Henry and Harry, what am me, and de oldes' one am General Thomas.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey more'n a hundred head of black folks on Massa Thomas' two farms,
+and 'bout a hundred fifty acres in each farm. One de farms in iron ore, what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+am red land, and de other in gray land, half sand and half black dirt.</p>
+
+<p>"Us slaves live in pole houses and some in split log houses,
+with two rooms, one for to sleep in and one for to cook in. Day ain't no
+glass windows, jus' holes in de walls. Dere was jack beds to sleep on,
+made out of poles. Dey has four legs and ain't nail to de walls.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Massa he care for he hands purty well, considerin' everything.
+In ginnin' time he 'low de women to pick up cotton from de ground and make
+mattresses and quilts. He make some cloth and buy some. A woman weave all
+de time and when de shickle jump out on de floor I picks it up. I used to
+could knit socks and I was jes' a li'l boy then, but I keep everything in
+'membrance.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey have some school and de chillen larnt readin' and writin', and
+manners and behaviour, too. Sometime dey git de broke-down white man to be
+teacher. But us didn't know much and it taken ten years or more after freedom
+to git de black men de qualification way he could handle things.</p>
+
+<p>"One time us boys git some watermillions out in de bresh and hit 'em
+or drap 'em to break 'em open. Dere come massa and cotch us not workin', but
+eatin' he watermillions. He tell my daddy to whip me. But lots of times when
+us sposed to mind de calves, us am out eatin' watermillions in de bresh. Den
+de calves git out and massa see dem run and cotch us.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa was kind and good, though. He have partiality 'bout him,
+and wouldn't whip nobody without de cause. He whip with de long, keen switch
+and it didn't bruise de back, but sho' did sting. When he git real mad, he
+pull up you shirt and whip on de bare hide. One time he whippin' me and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+busts de button off my shirt what he holdin' on to, and runs away. I tries
+to outrun him, and dat tickle him. I sho' give de ground fits with my feets.
+But dem whippin's done me good. Dey break me up from thievin' and make de man
+of me.</p>
+
+<p>"De way dey dress us li'l nigger boys den, dey give us a shirt what
+come way down 'tween de knees and ankles. When de weather am too cold, dey
+sometimes give us pants.</p>
+
+<p>"De white preachers come round and preach. Dey have de tabernacle
+like a arbor and cullud folks come from all round to hear de Gospel 'spounded.
+Most every farm have de cullud man larnin' to preach. I used to 'long to de
+Methodists but now I 'longs to de Church of Christ.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Thomas, he de wholesale merchant and git kilt in New Orleans.
+A big box of freight goods fall on him, a box 'bout a yard square on de end
+and six yards long. He's carryin' back some good for to make exchangement
+and dey pullin' up de box with pulley and rope and it fall on him. De New
+Orleans folks say it am de accidentment, but de rest say de rope am cut.
+One of massa's old friends was Lawyer Brooks. He used to firmanize de word.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa have two boys, Mr. Jimmie and Li'l Ide and dey both goes to de
+war. Li'l Ide, he go up in Arkansas and dey say when dat first cannon busts
+at Li'l Rock, he starts runnin' and never stops till he gits back home. I
+don't see how he could do dat, 'cause Li'l Rock am way far off, but dat what
+dey say. Den de men comes to git 'serters and dey gits Li'l Ide and takes him
+back. Mr. Jimmie, he didn't break de ranks. He stood he ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy and dem tell me when war am over de boss and he wife, dey calls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+de slaves up in de bunch and tells 'em, 'You's free as I is. Keep on or quit,
+if you wants. You don't have to stay no further, you's free today.' Dat near
+June 19th, and all of 'em stays. Massa say, 'Go 'head and finish de crop and
+I feed you and pay you.' Dey all knowed when he kilt de hawgs us git plenty
+of meat. Dat young massa say all dat, 'cause old massa done git kilt.</p>
+
+<p>"It's at Panola County where I first hears of de Klux. Dey call
+dem White Caps den. Dey move over in Panola County and ranges at de place call
+Big Creek Merval by McFaddin Creek. Dey's purty rough. De landowners tell
+dey niggers not to kill de White Caps but to scare dem 'way. At night dey
+come knock and if you don't open it dey pry it open and run you out in de field.
+Dey run de niggers from Merryville round Longview. Dey some good men in de
+Klux and some bad men. But us work hard and go home and dey ain't bother us
+none.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey used to be a nigger round dere, call Bandy Joe. He git kilt
+at Nacogdoches fin'ly. He could turn into anything. De jedge of he parish
+was Massa Lee and he say dey ought let Bandy Joe live, so dey could larn he art.
+Dey done try cotch him de long time, and maybe be holdin' him and first thing
+they know he gone and dey left holdin' he coat. Dey shoot at him and not hurt
+him. He tell he wife dey ain't no kind bullet can hurt him but de silver bullet.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat Bandy Joe, he say he a spirit and a human both. Iffen he didn't
+want you to see him you jus' couldn't see him. Lots of folks liked him. De
+jedge say he wish he could'a been brung to town, so he could 'zamine him 'bout
+he gifts. De jedge knowed Bandy Joe could dis'pear jus' like nothin', and he
+like to hear he quotation how he git out he skin. I'd like to know dat myself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I 'magines I seed ghosties two, three times. I used to range round at
+nighttime. I rides through a old slavery field and de folks tell me, 'Harry,
+you better be careful gwine 'cross dat old field. They's things dere what makes
+mules run 'way. One night it am late and my mule run 'way. I make my mind I
+go back and see what he run from and somethin' am by de fence like de bear stand
+up straight. It stand dere 'bout fifteen minutes while I draws my best 'pinion
+of it. I didn't get any nearer dan to see it. A man down de road tell me
+de place am hanted and he dunno how many wagons and mules git pull by dat thing
+at dat place.</p>
+
+<p>"One time I's livin' 'nother place and it am 'twixt sundown and dusk.
+I had a li'l boy 'hind me and I seed a big sow with no head comin' over de
+fence. My ma, she allus say what I see might be 'magination and to turn my
+head and look 'gain and I does dat. But it still dere. Den I seed a hoss
+goin' down de road and he drag a chain, and cross de bridge and turn down de
+side road. But when I git to de side road I ain't seed no hoss or nothin'.
+I didn't say nothin' to de li'l boy 'hind me on de mule till I gits most home,
+den asks him did he see anythin'. He say no. I wouldn't tell him 'fore dat,
+'cause I 'fraid he light out and outrun me and I didn't want to be by myself
+with dem things. When I gits home and tell everybody, dey say dat a man name
+McCoy, what was kilt dere and I seed he spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"I's 'bout twenty-one when I marries Mandy Green. Us has twelve chillen,
+and a world of grandchillen. I travels all over Louisiana and Texas in my time,
+and come here three year ago. My son he work in de box fact'ry here, and he
+git a bodily injurement while he workin' and die, and I come here to de burial
+and I been here ever since.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420269" id="nr420269"></a>420269</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>FRANK BELL, 86, was a slave
+of Johnson Bell, who ran a
+saloon in New Orleans. Frank
+lives in Madisonville, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was owned by Johnson Bell and born in New Orleans, in Louisiana.
+'Cordin' to the bill of sale, I'm eighty-six years old, and my master
+was a Frenchman and was real mean to me. He run saloon and kept bad women.
+I don't know nothing 'bout my folks, if I even had any, 'cept mama. They
+done tell me she was a bad woman and a French Creole.</p>
+
+<p>"I worked 'round master's saloon, kep' everything cleaned up after
+they'd have all night drinkin' parties, men and women. I earned nickels
+to tip off where to go, so's they could sow wild oats. I buried the nickels
+under rocks. If master done cotch me with money, he'd take it and beat me
+nearly to death. All I had to eat was old stuff those people left, all
+scraps what was left.</p>
+
+<p>"One time some bad men come to master's and gits in a shootin'
+scrape and they was two men kilt. I sho' did run. But master cotch me and
+make me take them men to the river and tie a weight on them, so they'd sink
+and the law wouldn't git him.</p>
+
+<p>"The clothes I wore was some master's old ones. They allus had holes
+in them. Master he stay drunk nearly all time and was mean to his slave. I'm
+the only one he had, and didn't cost him nothing. He have bill of sale made,
+'cause the law say he done stole me when I'm small child. Master kept me in
+chains sometimes. He shot several men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I didn't have no quarters but stays 'round the place and throw old
+sack down and lay there and sleep. I'm 'fraid to run, 'cause master say he'd
+hunt me and kill nigger.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's 'bout seventeen I marries a gal while master on drunk spell.
+Master he run her off, and I slips off at night to see her, but he finds it out.
+He takes a big, long knife and cuts her head plumb off, and ties a great, heavy
+weight to her and makes me throw her in the river. Then he puts me in chains
+and every night he come give me a whippin', for long time.</p>
+
+<p>"When war come, master swear he not gwine fight, but the Yankees they
+captures New Orleans and throws master in a pen and guards him. He gets a
+chance and 'scapes.</p>
+
+<p>"When war am over he won't free me, says I'm valuable to him in his
+trade. He say, 'Nigger, you's suppose to be free but I'll pay you a dollar
+a week and iffen you runs off I'll kill you.' So he makes me do like befo'
+the war, but give me 'bout a dollar a month, 'stead week.</p>
+
+<p>"He say I cost more'n I'm worth, but he won't let me go. Times I don't
+know why I didn't die befo' I'm growed, sleepin' on the ground, winter and
+summer, rain and snow. But not much snow there.</p>
+
+<p>"Master helt me long years after the war. If anybody git after him, he
+told them I stay 'cause I wants to stay, but told me if I left he'd kill him
+'nother nigger. I stayed till he gits in a drunk brawl one night with men
+and women and they gits to shootin' and some kilt. Master got kilt. Then I'm
+left to live or die, so I wanders from place to place. I nearly starved to
+death befo' I'd leave New Orleans, 'cause I couldn't think master am dead and
+I'm 'fraid. Finally I gits up nerve to leave town, and stays the first night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+in white man's barn. I never slep'. Every time I hears something, I jumps up
+and master be standin' there, lookin' at me, but soon's I git up he'd leave.
+Next night I slep' out in a hay field, and master he git right top of a tree
+and start hollerin at me. I never stays in that place. I gits gone from that
+place. I gits back to town fast as my legs carry me.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I gits locked up in jail. I don't know what for, never did know.
+One the men says to me to come with him and takes me to the woods and gives me
+an ax. I cuts rails till I nearly falls, all with chain locked 'round feet, so
+I couldn't run off. He turns me loose and I wanders 'gain. Never had a home.
+Works for men long 'nough to git fifty, sixty cents, then starts roamin' 'gain,
+like a stray dog like.</p>
+
+<p>"After long time I marries Feline Graham. Then I has a home and we has
+a white preacher marry us. We has one boy and he farms and I lives with him.
+I worked at sawmill and farms all my life, but never could make much money.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, the nigger was wild till the white man made what he has out
+of the nigger. He done ed'cate them real smart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420193" id="nr420193"></a>420193</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>Aunt VIRGINIA BELL, 1205 Ruthven St.,
+Houston, was born a slave near Opelousas,
+Louisiana, on the plantation
+of Thomas Lewis. Although she remembers
+being told she was born on Christmas
+Day, she does not know the year,
+but says she guesses she is about 88
+years old.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Well, suh, the fus' question you ask me, 'bout how old
+I is, I don' know 'zactly. You see it ain't like things is today.
+The young folks can tell you their 'zact age and everything,
+but in those days we didn' pay much 'tention to such things. But
+I knows I was bo'n in slavery times and my pappy tol' me I was bo'n
+on a Christmas Day, but didn' 'member jus' what year.</p>
+
+<p>"We was owned by Massa Lewis. Thomas Lewis was his name, and
+he was a United States lawyer. I ain't gwineter talk 'gainst my
+white folks like some cullud folks do, 'cause Massa Lewis was a
+mighty fine man and so was Miss Mary, and they treated us mighty
+good.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa had a big plantation near Opelousas and I was bo'n
+there. I 'member the neighbor folks used to bring their cotton to
+the gin on his farm for ginnin' and balin'. My mother's name was
+Della. That was all, jus' Della. My pappy's name was Jim Blair.
+Both of them was from Virginny, but from diff'rent places, and was
+brought to Louisiana by nigger traders and sold to Massa Lewis. I
+know my pappy was lots older than my mother and he had a wife and
+five chillen back in Virginny and had been sold away from them out
+here.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+Then he and my mother started a family out here. I don' know what
+become of his family back in Virginny, 'cause when we was freed he
+stayed with us.</p>
+
+<p>"When I got old enough I was housegirl and used to carry
+notes for Miss Mary to the neighbors and bring back answers. Miss
+Mary would say, 'Now, Virginny, you take this note to sech and sech
+place and be sure and be back in sech and sech time,' and I allus
+was.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Lewis had four or five families of us slaves, but we
+used to have some fun after work and us young folks would skip rope
+and play ring games. Durin' week days the field hands would work
+till the sun was jus' goin' down and then the overseer would holler
+'all right' and that was the signal to quit. All hands knocked off
+Sat'day noon.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn' have no schoolin' or preachin'. Only the white
+folks had them, but sometimes on Sundays we'd go up to the house and
+listen to the white folks singin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Iffen any of the slave hands wanted to git married, Massa
+Lewis would git them up to the house after supper time, have the man
+and woman jine hands and then read to them outen a book. I guess it
+was the Scriptures. Then he'd tell 'em they was married but to be
+ready for work in the mornin'. Massa Lewis married us 'cordin' to
+Gospel.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa used to feed us good, too, and we had plenty clothes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+Iffen we got took sick, we had doctor treatment, too. Iffen a hand
+took sick in the field with a misery, they was carried to their
+quarters and Massa or Miss Mary would give them a dose of epecac and
+make them vomit and would sen' for the doctor. They wouldn' fool
+none iffen one of us took sick, but would clean us out and take care
+of us till we was well.</p>
+
+<p>"There was mighty little whippin' goin' on at our place, 'cause
+Massa Lewis and Miss Mary treated us good. They wasn't no overseer
+goin' to whip, 'cause Massa wouldn' 'low him to. Le's see, I don'
+rec'lec' more than two whippin's I see anyone git from Massa, and that
+has been so long ago I don' rec'lec' what they was for.</p>
+
+<p>"When the War done come 'long it sho' changed things, and we
+heerd this and that, but we didn' know much what it was about. Then
+one day Massa Lewis had all the wagons loaded with food and chairs and
+beds and other things from the house and our quarters, and I heerd him
+say we was movin' to Polk County, way over in Texas. I know it took
+us a long time to git there, and when we did I never see so much woods.
+It sho' was diff'rent from the plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"I had to work in the fields, same as the res', and we stayed
+there three years and made three crops of cotton, but not so much as
+on our old place, 'cause there wasn't so much clearin'. Then one day
+Massa Lewis tol' us we was free, jus' as free as he was&mdash;jus' like
+you take the bridle offen a hoss and turn him loose. We jus' looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+'roun as iffen we hadn' good sense. We didn' have nothin' nor nowhere
+to go, and Massa Lewis say iffen we finish makin' de crop, he
+would take us back to Opelousas and give us a place to stay and feed
+us. So after pickin' we goes back and when we git there we sees
+where those rascal Yankees 'stroyed everything&mdash;houses burned, sugar
+kettles broke up. It looked mighty bad.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Lewis hadn' no money, but he fixed us up a place to
+stay and give us what he could to eat, but things was mighty hard for
+a while. I know pappy used to catch rabbits and take them to town
+and sell them or trade them for somethin' to eat, and you know that
+wasn't much, 'cause you can't git much for a little ol' rabbit.</p>
+
+<p>"Then the Provo' Marshal, that was his name, give us a order
+for things to put in a crop with and to live till we made the crop.
+'Course, I guess we wasn' as bad off as some, 'cause white folks
+knew we was Massa Lewis' folks and didn' bother us none.</p>
+
+<p>Then I got married to John Bell, and it was a scripture
+weddin', too. He died 28 years ago, but I has stayed married to him
+ever since. We had thirteen chillen, but they is all dead now 'cept
+four, but they was raised up right and they is mighty good to they
+ol' mammy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420114" id="nr420114"></a>420114</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/66edgarandminervabendy.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Edgar and Minerva Bendy" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Edgar and Minerva Bendy</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>EDGAR BENDY, 90 odd years, was
+the slave of Henry Bendy, of
+Woodville, Texas, has to make
+an effort to remember and is
+forced to seek aid from his
+wife, Minerva, at certain points
+in his story. Edgar has lived
+in Woodville all his life.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's a good size' boy when de war gwine on and I seed de soldiers
+come right here in Woodville. A big bunch of dem come through and dey
+have cannons with dem. My marster he didn't go to war, 'cause he too old,
+I guess.</p>
+
+<p>"I's born right here and done live hereabouts every since. Old
+man Henry Bendy, he my marster and he run de store here in Woodville and
+have de farm, too. I didn't do nothin' 'cept nuss babies. I jes' jump
+dem up and down and de old marster hire me out to nuss other white folks
+chillen, big and little.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy name' Jack Crews and my mammy was Winnie. Both of
+dem worked on de farm and I never seed dem much. I didn't have no house
+of my own, 'cause de marster, he give me de room in he house. He have
+lots of slaves and 'bout 100 acres in cult'vation. He gave dem plenty
+to eat and good homespun clothes to wear. He was mighty good.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster have de plank house and all de things in it was <a name='TC_5'></a><span class="corr" title="home-make">home-made</span>.
+De cook was a old cullud woman and I eat at de kitchen table and
+have de same what de white folks eats. Us has lots of meat, deer meat
+and possum and coon and sich, and us sets traps for birds.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dey ain't nothin' better dat go in de wood dan de big, fat
+possum. Dey git fat on black haws and acorns and chinquapin and sich.
+Chinquapin is good for people to eat and to roast. I used to be
+plumb give up to be de best hunter in Tyler and in de whole country.
+I kilt more deer dan any other man in de county and I been guide for
+all de big men what comes here to hunt. My wife, Minerva, she used to
+go huntin' with me.</p>
+
+<p>"I kep' on huntin' and huntin' till de Jack-a-my-lanterns git
+after me. Dat a light you sees all 'round you. Dey follow all 'long
+and dey stop you still. Den one time it git all over me. Come like
+de wind, blow, blow, and come jes' like fire all on my arm and my
+clothes and things. When dat git after me I quit huntin' at nighttime
+and ain't been huntin' since.</p>
+
+<p>"One time I fishin' on de creek and I ain't got no gun, and
+I look up and dere a big, wild cat. He never pay me no mind, no more
+dan nothin', but dat ain't made no diff'rence to me. I jes' flew in
+dat creek!</p>
+
+<p>"I used to belong to de lodge but when I git so old I couldn't
+pay my jews, I git unfinancial and I ain't a member no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420174" id="nr420174"></a>420174</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>MINERVA BENDY, 83, was born a
+slave to Lazarus Goolsby, Henry
+Co. Alabama, who brought her
+to Texas when she was five. They
+settled near Woodville, where
+Minerva still lives.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My earlies' 'membrance was de big, white sandy road what
+lead 'way from de house. It was clean and white and us chillen love
+to walk in de soft, hot sand. Dat in Henry County, Alabama, where
+I's born and my old marster was Lazarus Goolsby and he have de big
+plantation with lots of nigger folks. I 'member jus' as good as
+yesterday wigglin' my toes in dat sandy road and runnin' 'way to de
+grits mill where dey grind de meal. Dat have de big water wheel dat
+sing and squeak as it go 'round.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Mary, she make all us little chillen sleep in de
+heat of de day under de big, spreadin' oak tree in de yard. My
+mama have 17 chillen. Her name Dollie and my daddy name Herd.</p>
+
+<p>"I's jus' a little chile in dem days and I stay in de
+house with de white folks. Dey raise me a pet in de family. Missus
+Goolsby, she have two gals and dey give me to de oldest. When she die
+dey put me in de bed with her but iffen I knowed she dyin' dey wouldn't
+been able to cotch me. She rub my head and tell her papa and mama, 'I's
+gwine 'way but I wants you promise you ain't never whip my little nigger.'
+Dey never did.</p>
+
+<p>"I's jus' 'bout five year old when us make de trip to Texas.
+Us come right near Woodville and make de plantation. It a big place
+and dey raise corn and cotton and cane. We makes our own sugar and has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>
+many as six kettle on de furnace at one time. Dey raise dey tobacco, too.
+I's sick and a old man he say he make me tobacco medicine and dey dry de
+leafs and make dem sweet like sugar and feed me like candy.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member old marster say war broke out and Capt. Collier's men
+was a-drillin' right dere south of Woodville. All de wives and chillen
+watch dem drill. Dey was lots of dem, but I couldn't count. De whole
+shebang from de town go watch dem.</p>
+
+<p>"Four of the Goolsby boys goes to dat war and dey call John and
+Ziby and Zabud and Addison. Zabud, he git wounded, no he git kilt, and
+Addison he git wounded. I worry den, 'cause I ain't see no reason for
+dem to have to die.</p>
+
+<p>"After us free dey turn us loose in de woods and dat de bad time,
+'cause most us didn't know where to turn. I wasn't raise to do nothin'
+and I didn't know how. Dey didn't even give us a hoecake or a slice of
+bacon.</p>
+
+<p>"I's a June bride 59 year ago when I git married. De old white
+Baptist preacher name Blacksheer put me and dat nigger over dere, Edgar
+Bendy, togedder and us been togedder ever since. Us never have chick or
+chile. I's such a good nuss I guess de Lawd didn't want me to have
+none of my own, so's I could nuss all de others and I 'spect I's nussed
+most de white chillen and cullud, too, here in Woodville.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420177" id="nr420177"></a>420177</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>SARAH BENJAMIN, 82, was born
+a slave of the Gilbert family,
+in Clavin Parish, Louisiana.
+In 1867 she married Cal Benjamin
+and they settled in Corsicana,
+Texas, where Sarah now
+lives.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I is Sarah Benjamin and is 82 year old, 'cause my mammy told
+me I's born in 1855 in Clavin Parish in Louisiana. Her name was
+Fannie and my pappy's name Jack Callahan. There was jus'
+three of us chillen and I's de oldest.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Gilbert was tol'able good to we'uns, and give us plenty
+to eat. He had a smokehouse big as a church and it was full, and in
+de big kitchen we all et, chillen and all. De grown folks et first
+and den de chillen. Did we have plenty of possums and fish by de
+barrels full! All dis was cooked in de racks over de fireplace and
+it were good.</p>
+
+<p>"Our clothes was all homespun and de shoes made by de shoemaker.
+Old marse wanted all us to go to church and if dey didn't have shoes
+dey have something like de moccasin.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know how many slaves there was, but it was a lot, maybe
+60 or 70. Dey worked hard every day 'cept Sunday. Iffen they was bad
+they might git whuppin's, but not too hard, not to de blood. Iffen
+dey was still bad, dey puts chains on dem and puts dem in de stocks,
+'cause there wasn't no jail there.</p>
+
+<p>"Once when I's little, marse stripped me stark modern naked and
+puts me on de block, but he wouldn't sell me, 'cause he was bid only
+$350.00 and he say no, 'cause I was good and fat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dey didn't larn us nothin' and iffen you did larn to write,
+you better keep it to yourse'f, 'cause some slaves got de thumb or finger
+cut off for larnin' to write. When de slaves come in from de fields dey
+didn't larn nothin', they jus' go to bed, 'lessen de moonshine nights come
+and dey could work in de tobacco patch. De marster give each one de little
+tobacco patch and iffen he raised more'n he could use he could sell it.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas we all has de week vacation and maybe de dance.
+We allus have de gran' dinner on dat day, and no whuppin's. But dey couldn't
+leave de plantation without de pass, even on Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>"De women had to run de gin in de daytime and de man at night.
+Dey fed de old gin from baskets and my mammy fed from dose baskets all day
+with de high fever and died dat night. She wouldn't tell de marster she sick,
+fer fear she have to take de quinine.</p>
+
+<p>"De day we was freed, de slaves jus' scattered, 'cepting me.
+Missy Gilbert says I wasn't no slave no more but I had to stay and he'p her
+for my board 'till I's grown. I stayed 'till I was 'bout 16, den I runs
+away and marries Cal Benjamin, and we comes to Texas. Cal and me has six
+chillen, but he died 'fore dey was grown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420023" id="nr420023"></a>420023</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/72jackbess.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Jack Bess" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Jack Bess</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/72jackbesshouse.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Jack Bess&#39; House" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Jack Bess&#39; House</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JACK BESS was born near Goliad, Texas
+in 1854, a slave of Steve Bess who was
+a rancher. He worked with stock as a
+very young boy and this was his duty
+during and after the Civil War, as he
+remained with his boss for three years
+after emancipation. He then came to
+old Ben Ficklin four miles south of
+the present San Angelo, Texas, when
+it was the county seat of Tom Green
+County and before there was a San Angelo.
+He continued his work on ranches
+here and has never done any other kind
+of work. For the past several years
+he has been very feeble and has made
+his home with a daughter in San Angelo,
+Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>Jack who was assisted out of bed and dressed by his
+grandson, hobbled in on his cane and said, "I was jes' a
+small boy workin' on de ranch when I hear talk 'bout conscription'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+de men for de war what was agoin' to set de slaves
+free. We didn' know hardly what dey was a talkin' 'bout 'cause
+we knowed dat would be too good to be true. I jes' keeps on
+workin' wid my hosses and my cattle (dere wasn't no sheep den)
+jes' like dere wasn't no war, 'cause dat was all I ever knowed
+how to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Our ole marster, he wasn't so very mean to us, course
+he whips us once and awhile but dat wasn't like de slave
+holders what had dem colored drivers. Dey sho' was rough on
+de slaves. I's been told lots 'bout de chains and de diffe'nt
+punishments but our treatment wasn't so bad. Our beds was
+pretty good when we uses dem. Lots of de time we jes' sleeps
+on de groun', 'specially in summer.</p>
+
+<p>"Our log huts was comfortable and we had some kind of
+floors in all of dem. Some was plank and some was poles
+but dat was better den de dirt floors some cabins have.</p>
+
+<p>"De eats we have was jes' good eats, lots of meats and
+vegetables and de like; 'possum and coon and beef and pork
+all cooked good. Our clothes was jes' home spun like all de
+others.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn' have such a big ranch and not many slaves
+but we all gits along. We learns a little 'bout readin'
+and writin'.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'member any camp meetin's 'til after de war.
+We had a few den and on Christmas times we jes' tears up
+de country. Lawdy! Lawd! Dat fiddlin' went on all night,
+and we dance awhile den lay down and sleeps, den gits up and
+dances some mo'e. We would have big cakes and everything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+good to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"When we gits sick dey jes' gives us some kind of tea,
+mostly made from weeds. Mos' of de time we gits well.</p>
+
+<p>"When de news comes dat we was free our boss, he say,
+'You free now.' Course we was glad but we didn' know nothin'
+to do but jes' stay on dere, and we did 'bout three years and
+de boss pays us a little by de month for our work.</p>
+
+<p>"I's lef' dere den and comes to old Ben Ficklin to
+work on a ranch. Dat was before dere was any San Angelo, Texas.
+I's been here ever since, jes' a workin' from one ranch
+to another long as I was able. Now I's jes' stayin' 'round
+wid my chillun and dey takes good care of me."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420170" id="nr420170"></a>420170</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ELLEN BETTS, 118 N. Live Oak
+St., Houston, Texas, is 84.
+All of her people and their
+masters came from Virginia
+and settled in Louisiana
+about 1853. Her grandparents
+belonged to the Green family
+and her parents, Charity and
+William Green, belonged to
+Tolas Parsons. Ellen lives
+with friends who support her.
+Her sole belonging is an old
+trunk and she carries the key
+on a string around her neck.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I got borned on de Bayou Teche, clost to Opelousas. Dat in
+St. Mary's Parish, in Louisiana, and I belonged to Tolas Parsons, what
+had 'bout 500 slaves, countin' de big ones and de little ones, and
+he had God know what else. When my eyes jes' barely fresh open, Marse
+Tolas die and will de hull lot of us to he brother, William Tolas. And
+I tells you dat Marse William am de greates' man what ever walk dis
+earth. Dat's de truth. I can't lie on him when de pore man's in he
+grave.</p>
+
+<p>"When a whuppin' got to be done, old Marse do it heself. He
+don't 'low no overseer to throw he gals down and pull up dere dress and
+whup on dere bottoms like I hear tell some of 'em do. Was he still
+livin' I 'spect one part of he hands be with him today. I knows I would.</p>
+
+<p>"When us niggers go down de road folks say, 'Dem's Parson's niggers.
+Don't hit one dem niggers for God's sake, or Parsons sho' eat your jacket
+up.'</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Rachel what cook in de big house for Miss Cornelia had four
+young'uns and dem chillen fat and slick as I ever seen. All de niggers
+have to stoop to Aunt Rachel jes' like dey curtsy to Missy. I mind de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
+time her husband, Uncle Jim, git mad and hit her over de head with de poker.
+A big knot raise up on Aunt Rachel's head and when Marse 'quire 'bout it, she
+say she done bump de head. She dassn't tell on Uncle Jim or Marse sho' beat
+him. Marse sho' proud dem black, slick chillen of Rachels. You couldn't
+find a yaller chile on he place. He sho' got no use for mixin' black and
+white.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse William have de pretties' place up and down dat bayou, with de
+fine house and fine trees and sech. From where we live it's five mile to
+Centerville one way and five mile to Patterson t'other. Dey hauls de lumber
+from one place or t'other to make wood houses for de slaves. Sometime Marse
+buy de furniture and sometime de carpenter make it.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Sidney was Marse's first wife and he had six boys by her. Den
+he marry de widow Cornelius and she give him four boys. With ten chillen
+springin' up quick like dat and all de cullud chillen comin' 'long fast as
+pig litters, I don't do nothin' all my days, but nuss, nuss, nuss. I nuss
+so many chillen it done went and stunted my growth and dat's why I ain't
+nothin' but bones to dis day.</p>
+
+<p>"When de cullud women has to cut cane all day till midnight come and
+after, I has to nuss de babies for dem and tend de white chillen, too. Some dem
+babies so fat and big I had to tote de feet while 'nother gal tote de head.
+I was sech a li'l one, 'bout seven or eight year old. De big folks leave
+some toddy for colic and cryin' and sech and I done drink de toddy and let de
+chillen have de milk. I don't know no better. Lawsy me, it a wonder I ain't
+de bigges' drunker in dis here country, countin' all de toddy I done put in
+my young belly!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When late of night come, iffen dem babies wake up and bawl, I set
+up a screech and out-screech dem till dey shut dere mouth. De louder day
+bawl de louder I bawl. Sometime when Marse hear de babies cry, he come down
+and say, 'Why de chillen cry like dat, Ellen?' I say, 'Marse, I git so hongry
+and tired I done drink de milk up.' When I talk sassy like dat, Marse jes'
+shake he finger at me, 'cause he knowed I's a good one and don't let no little
+mite starve.</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody ever hit me a lick. Marse allus say bein' mean to de young'uns
+make dem mean when dey grows up and nobody gwineter buy a mean nigger. Marse
+don't even let de chillen go to de big cane patch. He plant little bitty patches
+close to de house and each li'l nigger have a patch and he work it till it got
+growed. Marse have de house girls make popcorn for 'em and candy.</p>
+
+<p>"I nuss de sick folks too. Sometime I dose with Blue Mass pills and
+sometime Dr. Fawcett leave rhubarb and ipicac and calomel and castor oil and
+sech. Two year after de war, I git marry and git chillen of my own and den I
+turn into de wet nuss. I wet nuss de white chillen and black chillen, like dey
+all de same color. Sometime I have a white'un pullin' de one side and a black
+one de other.</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to git de papers for midwifin' but, law, I don't never have
+no time for larnin' in slave time. If Marse cotch a paper in you hand he sho'
+whop you. He don't 'low no bright niggers 'round, he sell 'em quick. He allus
+say, 'Book larnin' don't raise no good sugar cane.' De only larnin' he 'low was
+when dey larn de cullud chillen de Methodist catechism. De only writin' a nigger
+ever git, am when he git born or marry or die, den Marse put de name in de
+big book.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Law, I 'lect de time Marse marry Miss Cornelia. He went on de
+mail boat and brung her from New Orleans. She de pretties' woman in de world
+almost, 'ceptin' she have de bigges' mouth I nearly ever seed. He brung her
+up to de house and all de niggers and boys and girls and cats and dogs and sech
+come and salute her. Dere she stand on de gallery, with a purty white dress on
+with red stripes runnin' up and down. Marse say to her, 'Honey, see all de
+black folks, dey 'longs to you now.' She wave to us and smile on us and nex'
+day she give her weddin' dress to my ma. Dat de fines' dress I ever seen. It
+was purple and green silk and all de nigger gals wear dat dress when dey git
+marry. My sister Sidney wore it and Sary and Mary.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Cornelia was de fines' woman in de world. Come Sunday mornin' she
+done put a bucket of dimes on de front gallery and stand dere and throw dimes to
+de nigger chillen jes' like feedin' chickens. I sho' right here to test'fy,
+'cause I's right dere helpin' grab. Sometime she done put da washtub of buttermilk
+on de back gallery and us chillen bring us gourds and dip up dat good, old
+buttermilk till it all git drunk up. Sometime she fotch bread and butter to
+de back gallery and pass it out when it don't even come mealtime.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Cornelia set my ma to cuttin' patterns and sewin' right away. She
+give all de women a bolt or linsey to make clothes and ma cut de pattern. Us all
+have de fine drawers down to de ankle, buttoned with pretty white buttons on de
+bottom. Lawsy, ma sho' cut a mite of drawers, with sewin' for her eleven gals
+and four boys, too. In de summertime we all git a bolt of blue cloth and white
+tape for trimmin', to make Sunday dresses. For de field, all de niggers git
+homespun what you make jumpers out of. I 'lect how Marse say, 'Don't go into de
+field dirty Monday mornin'. Scrub youself and put on de clean jumper.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Marse sho' good to dem gals and bucks what cuttin' de cane. When
+dey git done makin' sugar, he give a drink call 'Peach 'n Honey' to de women
+folk and whiskey and brandy to de men. And of all de dancin' and caperin'
+you ever seen! My pa was fiddler and we'd cut de pigeon wing and cut de buck
+and every other kind of dance. Sometime pa git tired and say he ain't gwineter
+play no more and us gals git busy and pop him corn and make candy, so to 'tice
+him to play more.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse sho' turn over in he grave did he know 'bout some dat 'lasses.
+Dem black boys don't care. I seen 'em pull rats out de sugar barrel and dey
+taste de sugar and say, 'Ain't nothin' wrong with dat sugar. It still sweet.'
+One day a pert one pull a dead scorpion out de syrup kettle and he jes' laugh
+and say, 'Marse don't want waste none dis syrup,' and he lick de syrup right
+off dat scorpion's body and legs.</p>
+
+<p>"Lawsy me, I seen thousands and thousands sugar barrels and kettles of
+syrup in my day. Lawd knows how much cane old Marse have. To dem cuttin' de
+cane it don't seem so much, but to dem what work hour in, hour out, dem sugar
+cane fields sho' stretch from one end de earth to de other. Marse ship hogs
+and hogs of sugar down de bayou. I seen de river boats go down with big signs
+what say, 'Buy dis here 'lasses' on de side. And he raise a world of rice and
+'taters and corn and peanuts, too.</p>
+
+<p>"When de work slight, us black folks sho have de balls and dinners and
+sech. We git all day to barbecue meat down on de bayou and de white folks come
+down and eat long side de cullud.</p>
+
+<p>"When a black gal marry, Marse marry her hisself in de big house.
+He marry 'em Saturday, so dey git Sunday off, too. One time de river boat come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
+bearin' de license for niggers to git marry with. Marse chase 'em off and
+say, 'Don't you come truckin' no no-count papers roun' my niggers. When I
+marry 'em, dey marry as good as if de Lawd God hisself marry 'em and it don't
+take no paper to bind de tie.' Marse don't stand no messin' 'round, neither.
+A gal have to be of age and ask her pa and ma and Marse and Missy, and if dey
+'gree, dey go ahead and git marry. Marse have de marry book to put de name
+down.</p>
+
+<p>"One time Marse take me 'long to help tote some chillen. He done
+write up to Virginny for to buy fresh hands. Dey a old man dat hobble 'long de
+road and de chillen start to throw rocks and de old man turn 'round to one
+prissy one and say, 'Go on, young'un, you'll be where dogs can't bark at you
+tomorrow. Nex' mornin' us cookin' in de kitchen and all a sudden dat li'l boy
+jes' crumple up dead on de floor. Law, we's scairt. Nobody ever bother dat
+old man no more, for he sho' lay de evil finger on you.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse's brother, Conrad, what was a widdyman, come to live on de
+plantation and he had a li'l gal 'bout eight year old. One day she in de plum
+orchard playin' with a rattlesnake and Marse Conrad have de fit. De li'l gal
+won't let nobody hurt dat snake and she play with him. He won't bite her.
+She keeps him 'bout three year, and she'd rub and grease him. One day he got
+sick and dey give him some brandy, but he die and old Doc pickle him in de
+bottle of brandy. Dat gal git so full of grief dey take her to de infirm'ry
+in New Orleans and den one day she up and die.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat snake ain't all what Doc Fawcett pickle. A slave woman give
+birth to a baby gal what have two faces with a strip of hair runnin' 'tween.
+Old Doc Fawcett pickle it in de jar of brandy. Old doc start to court Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
+Cornelia when Marse die, but she don't have none of him and he done went
+straight 'way and kill hisself.</p>
+
+<p>"One day a li'l man come ridin' by on a li'l dun hoss so fast you
+couldn't see dat hoss tail a-switchin'. He whoopin' and hollerin'. Us niggers
+'gun whoop and holler, too. Den first thing you know de Yanks and de
+Democrats 'gun to fight right dere. Dey a high old mountain front Marse's
+house and de Yanks 'gun pepper cannon ball down from de top dat hill. De
+war met right dere and dem Yanks and Democrats fit for twenty-four hours
+straight runnin'.</p>
+
+<p>"When de bullets starts rainin' down, Marse call us and slip us way
+back into de woods, where it so black and deep. Next day, when de fight over,
+Marse come out with great big wagons piles full of mess-poke for us to eat.
+Dat what us call hog meat. Us sho' glad to 'scape from de Yankees.</p>
+
+<p>"When us driv back to de plantation, sech a sight I never seen. Law,
+de things I can tell. Dem Yanks have kilt men and women. I seed babies pick
+up from de road with dere brains bust right out. One old man am drawin' water
+and a cannon ball shoots him right in de well. Dey draws him up with de fishin'
+line. Dey's a old sugar boat out on de bayou with blood and sugar runnin' long
+side de busted barrels. 'Lasses run in de bayou and blood run in de ditches.
+Marse have de great big orchard on de road and it wipe clean as de whistle.
+Bullets wipe up everythin' and bust dat sugar cane all to pieces. De house sot
+far back and 'scape de bullets, but, law, de time dey have!</p>
+
+<p>"Dey's awful, awful times after dat. A old cotton dress cost five dollars
+and a pound of coffee cost five dollars and a pint cup flour cost six bits.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+De Yanks 'round all de time and one day they comes right in de house where
+Miss Cornelia eatin' her dinner. Dey march 'round de table, jes' scoopin'
+up meat and 'taters and grabbin' cornpone right and left. Miss Cornelia
+don't say a word, jes' smile sweet as honey-cake. I reckon dem sojers might
+a took de silver and sech only she charm 'em by bein' so quiet and ladylike.
+First thing you know dem sojers curtsy to Missy and take dereself right out
+de door and don't come back.</p>
+
+<p>"Den it seem like Marse have all de trouble in de world. He boy,
+Ned, die in de war and William, what name for he pa, drink bad all de time.
+And after de war dem Ku Kluxers what wear de false faces try to tinker with
+Marse's niggers. One day Uncle Dave start to town and a Kluxer ask him where
+am he pass. Dat Kluxer clout him but Uncle Dave outrun him in de cane. Marse
+grab de hoss and go 'rest dat man and Marse a jedge and he make dat man pay
+de fine for hittin' Uncle Dave. After dey hears of dat, dem old poky faces
+sho' scairt of old Marse and dey git out from Opelousas and stays out. When
+me and my husband, John, come to Texas de folks say dat Louisiana masters de
+meanes' in de world and I say right back at 'em dat dey is good and mean in
+every spot of de earth. What more, de Louisiana masters free dere niggers
+a year befo' any Texas nigger git free.</p>
+
+<p>"When 'mancipation come, Marse git on de big block and say,
+'You all is as free as I is, standin' right here. Does you want to stay
+with me, you can, and I'll pay you for de work.' All de niggers cheer and
+say dey want to stay, but Marse die not long after and all us niggers scatter.</p>
+
+<p>"I sho' 'lect dat day old Marse die. He won't die till ma gits
+there. He keep sayin', "Where's Charity, tell Charity to come." Dey fotch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+ma from de cane patch and she hold Marse's hand till he die. Us niggers
+went to de graveyard and us sho' cry over old Marse.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse's brother, Goldham, carries all he hands back to de free
+country to turn 'em loose. He say de free country am de ones what's yellin'
+'bout slave times, so dey could jes' take care of de niggers. Marse Goldham
+so big dat when he stand in de door you couldn't git by him, 'thout he stand
+sideways.</p>
+
+<p>"Law, times ain't like dey was in slave days. All my ten chillen
+is dead and my old man gone, and now I reckon my time 'bout 'rive. All I got
+to do now am pray de Lawd to keep me straight, den when de great day come,
+I can march de road to glory.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420125" id="nr420125"></a>420125</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/84charlottebeverly.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Charlotte Beverley" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Charlotte Beverley</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>CHARLOTTE BEVERLY was born a
+slave to Captain Pankey's wife,
+in Montgomery County, Texas.
+She has lived most of her life
+within a radius of 60 miles
+from Houston, and now lives
+with one of her children in a
+little house on the highway
+between Cleveland and Shepherd,
+Texas. She does not know her
+age, but appears to be about
+ninety.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's born in Montgomery County and I's the mudder of eleven
+chillen, four gals and seven boys. My grandma come from Alabama
+and my daddy was Strawder Green and he belong to Col. Hughes. My
+maw named Phyllis and she belong to Capt. Pankey.</p>
+
+<p>"There was 'bout forty niggers, big and little, on the
+plantation. Lawd, they was good to us. Us didn' know nothin' 'bout
+bad times and cutting and whipping and slashing. I had to work in
+the house and I 'member one thing I has to do was scrub Mistus' gol'
+snuffbox twict a week. She kep' sweet, Scotch snuff and sometimes
+I takes a pinch out.</p>
+
+<p>"We used to go to the white folks church and if us couldn' git
+in we'd stand round by the door and sing. Mistus wouldn' 'low us
+dance on the place but they give us pass to go to dance on nex' plantation,
+where my daddy live.</p>
+
+<p>"Every year they have <a name='TC_6'></a><span class="corr" title="bit">big</span> Christmas dinner and ham and turkey
+and allus feed us good. Us have Christmas party and sing songs. That
+was sweet music.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster have a lovely house, all ceiled and plastered. It was
+a log house but it was make all beautiful inside with mirrors and on
+the board was lots of silver and china and silver spoons with the gol'
+linin's and part of my job was to keep 'em sparklin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Folks in them times cooks in the fireplace and my auntie, she cook.
+She make 'simmon bread and 'tater pone and the like. She mash up 'simmons
+with butter and pour sweet milk and flour in it. That make good 'simmon
+bread. We has skillets what was flat and deep and set on three legs.</p>
+
+<p>"The slaves lived in little log houses and sleep on wood beds. The
+beds was make three-legged. They make augur hole in side of the house and
+put in pieces of wood to make the bed frame, and they put straw and cotton
+mattress on them bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Old marster used to let he slaves have a extry cotton patch to theyselves
+and they work it by the moonlight. They could sell that cotton and
+have the money for theyselves.</p>
+
+<p>"My white mistus was a Christian and she'd own her God anywhere. She
+used to shout, jus' sit and clap her hands and say, 'Hallalujah.' Once I
+seed her shout in church and I thinks something ail her and I run down the
+aisle and goes to fannin' her.</p>
+
+<p>"One of the slaves was a sort-a preacher and sometimes marster 'lowed
+him to preach to the niggers, but he have to preach with a tub over his
+head, 'cause he git so happy he talk too loud. Somebody from the big
+house liable to come down and make him quit 'cause he makin' 'sturbance.</p>
+
+<p>"I brings water from the well and they have what they call piggins,
+and they was little tubs with two handles. Mistus wouldn' 'low me to
+do any heavy work.</p>
+
+<p>"I see sojers and knits socks for 'em by moonshine. Me and my husban'
+was married by a Yankee sojer. I was dress in white Tarleyton weddin'
+dress and I didn' wear no hoop skirt. I had a pretty wreath of little
+white flowers, little bitty, little dainty ones, the pretties' little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+things. When I marry, my sister marry too and our husban's was brudders.
+My husban' dress in suit of white linen. He sho' look handsome. He
+give me a gol' ring and a cup and saucer for weddin' gif'. We git married
+in Huntsville and us didn' go no weddin' journey trip. We was so poor we
+couldn' go round the house! I's 'bout twenty some year when I marries, but
+I don' know jus' how old. We has a big dance that night and the white folks
+come, 'cause they likes to see the niggers dance.</p>
+
+<p>"The white folks had interes' in they cullud people where I live. Sometimes
+they's as many as fifty cradle with little nigger babies in 'em and
+the mistus, she look after them and take care of them, too. She turn them
+and dry them herself. She had a little gal git water and help. She never
+had no chillen of her own. I'd blow the horn for the mudders of the little
+babies to come in from the fields and nurse 'em, in mornin' and afternoon.
+Mistus feed them what was old enough to eat victuals. Sometimes, they
+mammies take them to the field and fix pallet on ground for them to lay
+on.</p>
+
+<p>"The las' word my old Mistus Pankey say when she die was, 'You take
+care of Charlette.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420249" id="nr420249"></a>420249</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/87francisblack.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Francis Black" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Francis Black</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>FRANCIS BLACK was born at
+Grand Bluff, Mississippi, about
+1850, on the Jim Carlton plantation.
+When five years old,
+she was stolen and taken to the
+slave market in New Orleans.
+Failing to sell her there, the
+slave traders took her to Jefferson,
+Texas, and sold her to
+Bill Tumlin. Francis stayed
+with him five years after she
+was freed, then married and
+moved to Cass County, Texas.
+She became blind a year ago,
+and now lives at the Bagland Old
+Folks Home, 313 Elm St., Texarkana,
+Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My name am Francis Black, and I don't know jes' how old I is,
+but 'members lots 'bout them slave days. I was a big gal, washin' and
+ironin', when they sot the darkies free. From that, I cal'late I'm in
+my eighties.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born in Grand Bluff, in Mississippi, on Old Man Carlton's
+plantation, and I was stole from my folks when I was a li'l gal and
+never seed them no more. Us kids played in the big road there in Mississippi,
+and one day me and 'nother gal is playin' up and down the
+road and three white men come 'long in a wagon. They grabs us up and
+puts us in the wagon and covers us with quilts. I hollers and yells and
+one the men say, 'Shet up, you nigger, or I'll kill you.' I told him,
+'Kill me if you wants to&mdash;you stole me from my folks.'</p>
+
+<p>"Them men took us to New Orleans to the big slave market. I had
+long hair and they cut it off like a boy and tried to sell me, but I
+told them men what looks at me, the men cut my hair off and stole me.
+The man what cut my hair off cursed me and said if I didn't hush he'd
+kill me, but he couldn't sell us at New Orleans and took us to Jefferson.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I never knowed what they done with the other gal, but they sold me to
+Marse Bill Tumlin, what run a big livery stable in Jefferson, and I 'longed
+to him till surrender. I lived in the house with them, 'cause they had a boy
+and gal and I did for them. They bought me clothes and took good care of me
+but I never seed no money till surrender. I et what they et, after they got
+through. Missy say she didn't 'lieve in feedin' the darkies scraps, like
+some folks.</p>
+
+<p>"I played with them two chillen all day, then sot the table. I was so
+small I'd git in a chair to reach the dishes out of the safe. I had to pull
+a long flybrush over the table whilst the white folks et.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Tumlin had a farm 'bout four mile from town, and a overseer,
+and I seed him buckle the niggers crost a log and whip them. Marse lived
+in Jefferson, heself, and when he'd go to the farm he allus took his boy
+with him. We'd be playin' in the barn and Marse call from the house,
+'Come on, Jimmie, we're gwine to the farm.' Jimmie allus say to me, 'Come
+on, nigger, let's ride round the farm.' I'd say, 'I ain't no nigger.'
+He'd say, 'Yes, you is, my pa paid $200 for you. He bought you for to play
+with me.'</p>
+
+<p>"Jefferson was a good town till it burned up. I 'members the big
+fire what looked like the whole town gwineter burn up. Marse Bill lost
+his livery stable in the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"The Yankee soldiers, all dressed in blue, come to run the town
+after the war. Marse Tumlin done told me I'm free, but I stays on till
+I'm most growed. Then I works round town and marries Dave Black, and we
+moved to Cass County. I raises six chillun but my old man done git so triflin'
+and mean I quit him and worked for myself. I come to Texarkana to work, and
+allus could earn my own livin' till 'bout a year ago I lost my seein', and
+Albert Ragland done took me in his home for the old folks. They gives me a
+$10 a month pension now. They is good to me here and feeds us good.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420142" id="nr420142"></a>420142</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>OLIVIER BLANCHARD, 95 years old,
+was a slave of Clairville La San,
+who owned a large plantation in
+Martinville Parish, Louisiana.
+His father was a Frenchman and
+Olivier speaks rather haltingly,
+as though it is difficult for
+him to express his thoughts in
+English, for he has talked a
+species of French all his life.
+He lives in Beaumont, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was plowing and hoeing before the freedom and I talk more
+of the French 'cause I comes from St. Martinville Parish. I was born
+there in Louisiana and my mama was Angeline Jean Pierre and she was
+slave born. My papa was Olivier Blanchard and he white man carpenter
+on old plantation. We belong to Clairville <a name='TC_7'></a><span class="corr" title="LaSan">La San</span> and all live on
+that place. My papa just plain carpenter but could draw patterns for
+houses. I don't know where he larn that work.</p>
+
+<p>"I was count freeborn and still have one white half sister
+alive. When freedom come my mama and papa split up and mama get marry.</p>
+
+<p>"I pick cotton and mama cook. She make koosh-koosh and cyayah&mdash;that
+last plain clabber. Mama cook lots of gaspergou and carp and
+the poisson ami fish, with the long snout&mdash;what they call gar now.
+I think it eel fish they strip the skin off and wrap round the hair
+and make it curly.</p>
+
+<p>"The Bayou Teche, it run close by and the women do all the
+clothes with a big paddle with holes in it to clean them in the bayou.
+They paddle them clean on the rocks and then wash them in the water.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One time one big bayou 'gator come up and bite a woman's
+arm off. She my sister in law. But they keep on washing the clothes
+in the bayou just the same.</p>
+
+<p>"We have plenty to eat and peaches and muscadines and pecans,
+'cause there right smart woods and swamp there. We play in the woods
+and most time in the bayou on boats with planks what would float. We
+had the good time and had a little pet coon. You know, the coon like
+sweet things and he steal our syrup and when we chase him with the
+switch he hide under the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"My old missus was good Catholic and she have us christened
+and make the first communion. That not registered, 'cause it before the
+freedom, but it were in old St. Martin's church, same old church what
+stand now. There was a statue of Pere Jean, the old priest, in front
+the church and one of St. Martin, too.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty men from St. Martinville go to the war and Archie
+DeBlieu, he go to Virginia and fight. The first one to pass our place
+was John Well Banks and he was a Yankee going up the Red River.</p>
+
+<p>"The yellow fever came durin' that war and kill lots. All
+the big plantation have the graveyard for the cullud people. That fever
+so bad they get the coffin ready before they dead and they so scared
+that some weren't dead but they think they are and bury them. There was
+a white girl call Colene Sonnier what was to marry Sunday and she take
+sick Friday before. She say not to bury her in the ground but they put
+her there while they got the tomb ready. When they open the ground grave
+to put her in the tomb they find she buried alive and she eat all her own
+shoulder and hand away. Her sweetheart, Gart Berrild, he see that corpse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+and he go home and get took with yellow fever and die.</p>
+
+<p>"They was the old lady what die. She was a terrible soul. One
+time after she die I go to get water out of her rain barrel and I had
+a lamp in one hand. That old lady's ghost blowed out the lamp and slapped
+the pitcher out my hand. After she first die her husband put black
+dress on her and tie up the jaw with a rag and my girl look in the room
+and there that old lady, Liza Lee, sittin' by the fire. My girl tell
+her mama and after three day she go back, and Liza Lee buried but my
+wife see her sittin' by the fire. Then she sorry she whip the chile for
+sayin' she saw Liza Lee. That old lady, Liza Lee, was a tart and she
+stay a tart for a long time.</p>
+
+<p>"I marry 72 year ago in the Catholic Church in St. Martinville.
+My wife call Adeline Chretien and she dead 37 year. We have seven
+children but four live now. Frank my only boy live now, in Iowa, in
+Louisiana, and my two girls live, Enziede De Querive and Rose Baptiste.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420199" id="nr420199"></a>420199</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JULIA BLANKS was born of a slave
+mother and a three-quarter Indian
+father, in San Antonio, in the
+second year of the Civil War. Her
+mother, part French and part Negro,
+was owned by Mrs. John G. Wilcox,
+formerly a Miss Donaldson, who had
+lived at the White House, and who
+gave Julia to her daughter. After
+the slaves were freed, Julia continued
+to live with her mother in San
+Antonio until, at fifteen, she married
+Henry Hall. Five years later
+her second marriage took place, at
+Leon Springs, Texas, where she lived
+until moving to the Adams ranch, on
+the Frio River. Here she raised her
+family. After leaving the Adams ranch,
+Julia and Henry bought two sections of
+state land, but after four years they
+let it go back because of Henry's ill
+health, and moved to Uvalde.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born in San Antonio, in 1862. My mother's name
+was Rachael Miller. I don't know if she was born in Tennessee
+or Mississippi. I heard her talk of both places. I don't know
+nothing about my father, because he run off when I was about
+three months old. He was three-quarter Cherokee Indian. They
+were lots of Indians then, and my husband's people come from
+Savannah, Georgia, and he said they was lots of Indians there.
+I had two sisters and one brother and the sisters are dead but
+my brother lives somewhere in Arizona. My mother's master's
+name was John. G. Wilcox.</p>
+
+<p>"When we was small chillen, they hired my sisters out, but
+not me. My grandfather bought my grandmother's time and they run
+a laundry house. They hired my mother out, too.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, my grandmother was free born, but they stole her
+and sold her to Miss Donaldson. She was half French. She looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+jes' like a French woman. She wasn't a slave, but she and her
+brother were stolen and sold. She said the stage coach used to
+pass her aunt's house, and one day she and her brother went down
+to town to buy some buns, and when they were comin' back, the
+stage stopped and asked 'em to ride. She wanted to ride, but her
+brother didn't. But they kep' coaxin' 'em till they got 'em in.
+They set her down between the two women that was in there and
+set her brother between two men, and when they got close to the
+house, they threw cloaks over their heads and told the driver to
+drive as fast as he could, and he sure drove. They taken 'em to
+Washin'ton, to the White House, and made her a present to Mary
+Wilcox (Miss Donaldson) and her brother to somebody else. Then
+this woman married John C. Wilcox and they come to Texas.</p>
+
+<p>"She saw a cousin of hers when they got to Washin'ton, and
+she knew, after that, he had somethin' to do with her and her
+brother bein' stolen. One day she found a piece of yellow money
+and took it to her cousin and he told her it wasn't no good and
+gave her a dime to go get her some candy. After that, she saw
+gold money and knew what it was.</p>
+
+<p>"She said she had a good time, though, when she was growing
+up. They were pretty good to her, but after they came to San
+Antonio, Mrs. Wilcox began bein' mean. She kep' my mother hired
+out all the time and gave me to her daughter and my sister to
+her son. My mother was kep' hired out all the time, cooking;
+and after freedom, she just took to washin' and ironin'. My
+grandfather bought his time and my grandmother's time out. They
+didn't stay with her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I've heard my mother talk about coffee. They roasted beans
+and made coffee. She says, out on the plantation, they would
+take bran and put it in a tub and have 'em stir it up with water
+in it and let all the white go to the bottom and dip it off and
+strain it and make starch. I have made starch out of flour over
+and often, myself. I had four or five little girls; and I had
+to keep 'em like pins. In them days they wore little calico
+dresses, wide and full and standin' out, and a bonnet to match
+every dress.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to hear my grandmother tell about the good times
+they used to have. They would go from one plantation to another
+and have quiltin's and corn huskin's. And they would dance. They
+didn't have dances then like they do now. The white people would
+give them things to eat. They would have to hoof it five or six
+miles and didn't mind it.</p>
+
+<p>"They had what they called <span class="u">patros</span>, and if you didn't have
+a pass they would whip you and put you in jail. Old Man Burns
+was hired at the courthouse, and if the marsters had slaves that
+they didn't want to whip, they would send them to the courthouse
+to be whipped. Some of the marsters was good and some wasn't.
+There was a woman, oh, she was the meanest thing! I don't know
+if she had a husband&mdash;I never did hear anything about him.
+When she would get mad at one of her slave women, she would make
+the men tie her down, and she had what they called cat-o'-nine-tails,
+and after she got the blood to come, she would dip it in
+salt and pepper and whip her again. Oh, she was mean! My<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+mother's marster was good; he wouldn't whip any of his slaves.
+But his wife wasn't good. If she got mad at the women, when he
+would come home she would say: 'John, I want you to whip Liza.'
+Or Martha. And he would say, 'Them are your slaves. You whip
+them.' He was good and she was mean.</p>
+
+<p>"When my aunt would go to clean house, she (Mrs. Wilcox)
+would turn all the pictures in the house but one, the meanest
+looking one&mdash;you know how it always looks like a picture is
+watching you everywhere you go&mdash;and she would tell her if
+she touched a thing or left a bit of dirt or if she didn't do
+it good, this picture would tell. And she believed it.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandmother told a tale one time. You know in slave
+time they had an old woman to cook for the chillen. One day
+they were going to have company. This woman that was the boss
+of the place where the chillen was kept told the old cullud
+woman to take a piece of bacon and grease the mouths of all the
+chillen. Then she told a boy to bring them up to these people,
+and the woman said: 'Oh, you must feed these chillen good, just
+look at their mouths!' And the woman said, 'Oh, that's the way
+they eat.' They didn't get meat often. That was just to make
+them believe they had lots to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"No. They were cut off from education. The way my stepfather
+got his learning was a cullud blacksmith would teach
+school at night, and us chillen taught our mother. She didn't
+know how to spell or read or nothin'. She didn't know B from
+bull's foot. Some of them were allowed to have church and some
+didn't. Mighty few read the Bible 'cause they couldn't read. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+my mother used to say, they were raised up as green as cucumbers.
+That old blacksmith was the onlyist man that knew how to read
+and write in slavery time that I knew of. My grandmother or none
+of them knew how to read; they could count, but that was all.
+That's what makes me mad. I tell my grandchillen they ought to
+learn all they can 'cause the old people never had a chance. My
+husband never did have any schooling, but he sure could figger.
+Now, if you want me to get tangled up, just give me a pencil and
+paper and I don't know nothing." She tapped her skull. "I
+figger in my head! The chillen, today, ought to appreciate an
+education.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, they were good to the slaves when they were sick.
+They would have the doctor come out and wait on them. Most
+plantations had what they called an old granny cullud woman that
+treated the chillen with herbs and such things.</p>
+
+<p>"Games? I don't know. We used to play rap jacket. We
+would get switches and whip one another. You know, after you was
+hit several times it didn't hurt much. I've played a many time.
+In slave time the men used to go huntin' at night, and hunt
+'possums and 'coons. They would have a dog or two along. They
+used to go six or seven miles afoot to corn huskin's and quiltin's.
+And those off the other plantations would come over and join in
+the work. And they would nearly always have a good dinner.
+Sometimes some of the owners would give 'em a hog or somethin'
+nice to eat, but some of 'em didn't.</p>
+
+<p>"No'm, I don't know if they run off to the North, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
+some of them runned off and stayed in the swamps, and they was
+mean. They called them runaways. If they saw you, they would
+tell you to bring them something to eat. And if you didn't do
+it, if they ever got you they sure would fix you.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know when my mother was set free. My husband's
+marster's name was King. He was from Savannah, Georgia, but at
+the time was living close to Boerne. My husband's father was
+killed in the war. When my husband was about ten years old, his
+marster hadn't told them they was free. You know some of them
+didn't tell the slaves they was free until they had to. After
+freedom was declared, lots of people didn't tell the slaves they
+were free. One morning, my husband said, he happended to look
+out and he saw a big bunch of men coming down the road, and he
+thought he never saw such pretty men in his life on them horses.
+They had so many brass buttons on their clothes it looked like
+gold. So he run and told his mama, and she looked and saw it
+was soldiers, and some of 'em told the boss, and he looked and
+saw them soldiers comin' in the big gate and he called 'em in
+quick, and told them they were free. So when the soldiers come,
+they asked him if he had told his slaves they were free, and he
+said yes. They asked the Negroes if they lived there, and they
+said yes. One said, 'He just told us we was free.' The soldiers
+asked him why he had just told them, and he said they wasn't all
+there and he was waiting for them all to be there.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband said he thought them was the prettiest bunch
+of men he ever saw, and the prettiest horses. Of course, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
+hadn't never saw any soldiers before. I know it looked pretty
+to me when I used to see the soldiers at the barracks and hear
+the band playin' and see them drillin' and ever'thing. You see,
+we lived on a little cross-street right back of St. Mary's Church
+in San Antonio, I don't know how that place is now. Where the
+post office is now, there used to be a blacksmith shop and my
+father worked there. I went back to San Antonio about fifteen
+years ago and jes' took it afoot and looked at the changes.</p>
+
+<p>"I was fifteen years old the first time I married. It was
+almost a run-a-way marriage. I was married in San Antonio. My
+first husband's name was Henry Hall. My first wedding dress was
+as wide as a wagon sheet. It was white lawn, full of tucks, and
+had a big ruffle at the bottom. I had a wreath and a veil, too.
+The veil had lace all around it. We danced and had a supper.
+We danced all the dances they danced then; the waltz, square,
+quadrille, polka, and the gallopade&mdash;and that's what it was,
+all right; you shore galloped. You'd start from one end of the
+hall and run clear to the other end. In those days, the women
+with all them long trains&mdash;the man would hold it over his arm.
+No, Lord! Honeymoons wasn't thought of then. No'm, I never
+worked out a day in my life." Jokingly, "I guess they thought
+I was too good looking. I was about twenty years old when I
+married the second time. I was married in Leon Springs the
+second time.</p>
+
+<p>"Before we come out to this country from Leon Springs,
+they was wild grapes, dewberries, plums and agaritas, black haws,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+red haws. M-m-m! Them dewberries, I dearly love 'em! I never
+did see wild cherries out here. I didn't like the cherries much,
+but they make fine wine. We used to gather mustang grapes and
+make a barrel of wine.</p>
+
+<p>"After I married the second time, we lived on the Adams
+ranch on the Frio and stayed on that ranch fifteen years. We
+raised all our chillen right on that ranch. I am taken for a
+Mexkin very often. I jes' talk Mexkin back to 'em. I learned
+to talk it on the ranch. As long as I have lived at this place,
+I have never had a cross word about the chillen. All my neighbors
+here is Mexkins. They used to laugh at me when I tried to talk
+to the hands on the ranch, but I learned to talk like 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"We used to have big round-ups out on the Adams ranch.
+They had fences then. The neighbors would all come over and get
+out and gather the cattle and bring 'em in. Up at Leon Springs
+at that time they didn't have any fences, and they would have
+big round-ups there. But after we come out here, it was different.
+He would notify his neighbors they were goin' to gather
+cattle on a certain day. The chuck wagon was right there at the
+ranch, that is, <span class="u">I</span> was the chuck wagon. But if they were goin'
+to take the cattle off, they would have a chuck wagon. They
+would round up a pasture at a time and come in to the ranch for
+their meals. Now on the Wallace ranch, they would always take
+a chuck wagon. When they were gettin' ready to start brandin'
+at the ranch, my husband always kep' his brandin' irons all in
+the house, hangin' up right where he could get his hands on 'em.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+Whenever they would go off to other ranches to gather cattle,
+you would see ever' man with his beddin' tied up behind him on
+his horse. He'd have jes' a small roll. They would always have
+a slicker if nothin' else. That slicker answered for ever'thing
+sometimes. My husband slep' many a night with his saddle under
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>"He used to carry mail from San Antonio to Dog Town, horseback.
+That was the town they used to call Lodi (Lodo), but I
+don't know how to spell it, and don't know what it means. It
+was a pretty tough town. The jail house was made out of 'dobe
+and pickets. They had a big picket fence all around it. They
+had a ferry that went right across the San Antonio River from
+Floresville to Dog Town. I know he told me he come to a place
+and they had a big sign that said, 'Nigga, don't let the sun go
+down on you here.' They was awful bad down in there. He would
+leave Dog Town in the evenin' and he would get to a certain place
+up toward San Antonio to camp, and once he stopped before he got
+to the place he always camped at. He said he didn't know what
+made 'im stop there that time, but he stopped and took the saddle
+off his horse and let 'im graze while he lay down. After a
+while, he saw two cigarette fires in the dark right up the road
+a little piece, and he heard a Mexkin say, 'I don't see why he's
+so late tonight. He always gets here before night and camps right
+there.' He knew they was waylayin' 'im, so he picked his saddle
+up right easy and carried it fu'ther back down the road in the
+brush and then come got his horse and took him out there and
+saddled 'im up and went away 'round them Mexkins. He went on in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>
+to San Antonio and didn't go back any more. A white man took the
+mail to carry then and the first trip he made, he never come back.
+He went down with the mail and they found the mail scattered
+somewhere on the road, but they never found the man, or the horse,
+either.</p>
+
+<p>"On the Adams ranch, in the early days, we used to have to
+pack water up the bank. You might not believe it, but one of
+these sixty-pound lard cans full of water, I've a-carried it on
+my head many a time. We had steps cut into the bank, and it was
+a good ways down to the water, and I'd pack that can up to the
+first level and go back and get a couple a buckets of water, and
+carry a bucket in each hand and the can on my head up the next
+little slantin' hill before I got to level ground. I carried
+water that way till my chillen got big enough to carry water,
+then they took it up. When I was carryin' water in them big cans
+my head would sound like new leather&mdash;you know how it squeaks,
+and that was the way it sounded in my head. But, it never did
+hurt me. You see, the Mexkins carry loads on their heads, but
+they fix a rag around their heads some way to help balance it.
+But I never did. I jes' set it up on my head and carried it
+that way. Oh, we used to carry water! My goodness! My mother
+said it was the Indian in me&mdash;the way I could carry water.</p>
+
+<p>"When we were first married and moved to the Adams ranch,
+we used to come here to Uvalde to dances. They had square dances
+then. They hadn't commenced all these frolicky dances they have
+now. They would have a supper, but they had it to sell. Every
+fellow would have to treat his girl he danced with.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I can remember when my grandfather lived in a house with
+a dirt floor, and they had a fireplace. And I can remember just
+as well how he used to bake hoecakes for us kids. He would rake
+back the coals and ashes real smooth and put a wet paper down on
+that and then lay his hoecake down on the paper and put another
+paper on top of that and the ashes on top. I used to think that
+was the best bread I ever ate. I tried it a few times, but I
+made such a mess I didn't try it any more. One thing I have seen
+'em make, especially on the ranch. You take and clean a stick
+and you put on a piece of meat and piece of fat till you take and
+use up the heart and liver and sweetbread and other meat and put
+it on the stick and wrap it around with leaf fat and then put the
+milk gut, or marrow gut, around the whole thing. They call that
+<span class="u">macho</span> (mule), and I tell you, it's good. They make it out of a
+goat and sheep, mostly.</p>
+
+<p>"Another thing, we used to have big round-ups, and I have
+cooked great pans of steak and mountain orshters. Generally, at
+the brandin' and markin', I cooked up many a big pan of mountain
+orshters. I wish I had a nickel for ever' one I've cooked, and
+ate too! People from up North have come down there, and, when
+they were brandin' and cuttin' calves there, they sure did eat
+and enjoy that dinner.</p>
+
+<p>"The men used to go up to the lake, fishin', and catch big
+trout, or bass, they call 'em now; and we'd take big buckets of
+butter&mdash;we didn't take a saucer of butter or a pound; we taken
+butter up there in buckets, for we sure had plenty of it&mdash;and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
+we'd take lard too, and cook our fish up there, and had corn
+bread or hoe cakes and plenty of butter for ever'thing, and it
+sure was good. I tell you&mdash;like my husband used to say&mdash;we
+was livin' ten days in the week, then.</p>
+
+<p>"When we killed hogs, the meat from last winter was hung outside
+and then new meat, salted down and then smoked, put in there,
+and we would cook the old bacon for the dogs. We always kep' some
+good dogs there, and anybody'll tell you they was always fat. We
+had lots of wild turkeys and I raised turkeys, too, till I got
+sick of cookin' turkeys. Don't talk about deer! You know, it
+wasn't then like it is now. You could go kill venison any time
+you wanted to. But I don't blame 'em for passin' that law, for
+people used to go kill 'em and jes' take out the hams and tenderloin
+and leave the other layin' there. I have saved many a sack
+of dried meat to keep it from spoilin'.</p>
+
+<p>"We would raise watermelons, too. We had a big field three
+mile from the house and a ninety-acre field right in the house.
+We used to go get loads of melons for the hogs and they got to
+where they didn't eat anything but the heart.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to leave my babies at the house with the older
+girl and go out horseback with my husband. My oldest girl used
+to take the place of a cowboy, and put her hair up in her hat.
+And ride! My goodness, she loved to ride! They thought she was
+a boy. She wore pants and leggin's. And maybe you think she
+couldn't ride!</p>
+
+<p>"After we left that ranch, we took up some state land. I
+couldn't tell you how big that place was. We had 640 in one place<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
+and 640 in another place; it was a good big place. After my
+husband got sick, we had to let it go back. We couldn't pay it
+out. We only lived on it about four years.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband has been dead about nineteen years. I had a pen
+full and a half of chillen. I have four livin' chillen, two girls
+and two boys. I have a girl, Carrie, in California, workin' in
+the fruit all the time; one boy, George, in Arizona, workin' in
+the mines; and a girl in Arizona, Lavinia, washes and irons and
+cooks and ever'thing else she can get at. And I have one boy here.
+I have ten grandchillen and I've got five great grandchillen.</p>
+
+<p>"I belong to the Methodist Church. I joined about twenty-five
+years ago. My husband joined with me. But here, of late
+years, when I go to church, it makes me mad to see how the people
+do the preacher up there trying to do all the good he can do and
+them settin' back there laughin' and talkin'. I was baptized.
+There was about five or six of us baptized in the Leona down here.</p>
+
+<p>"People tell that I've got plenty and don't need help. Even
+the Mexkins here and ever'body say I've got money. Jes' because
+we had that farm down there they think I come out with money. But
+what in the world would I want with money if I didn't use it? I
+can't take it with me when I die and I could be gettin' the use of
+it now while I need it. I could have what I want to eat, anyway.
+I'm gettin' a little pension, but it ain't near enough to keep us.
+I've got these two grandchillen here, and things is so high, too,
+so I don't have enough of anything without skimpin' all the time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420312" id="nr420312"></a>420312</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ELVIRA BOLES, 94, has outlived nine
+of her ten children. She lives at
+3109 Manzana St., El Paso, Texas,
+with her daughter, Minnie. She was
+born a slave of the Levi Ray family
+near Lexington, Mississippi, and was
+sold as a child to Elihn Boles, a
+neighboring plantation owner. During
+the last year of the Civil War she
+was brought to Texas, with other refugee
+slaves.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I jus' 'member my first marster and missus, 'cause she don'
+want me there. I'se a child of the marster. Dey didn' tell me
+how old I was when dey sold me to Boles. My missus sold me to
+Boles. Dey tuk us to where dere was a heap of white folks down
+by the court house and we'd be there in lots and den de whites
+'ud bid for us. I don' know how old I was, but I washed dishes
+and den dey put me to work in de fields. We don' git a nickel in
+slavery.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Boles didn' have many slaves on de farm, but lots
+in brickyard. I toted brick back and put 'em down where dey had
+to be. Six bricks each load all day. That's de reason I ain't
+no 'count, I'se worked to death. I fired de furnace for three
+years. Stan'in' front wid hot fire on my face. Hard work, but
+God was wid me. We'd work 'till dark, quit awhile after sundown.
+Marster was good to slaves, didn' believe in jus' lashin' 'em. He'd
+not be brutal but he'd kill 'em dead right on the spot. Overseers
+'ud git after 'em and whop 'em down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'se seventeen, maybe, when I married to slave of Boles.
+Married on Saturday night. Dey give me a dress and dey had things to eat,
+let me have something like what you call a party. We just had common
+clothes on. And then I had to work every day. I'd leave my baby cryin'
+in de yard and he'd be cryin', but I couldn' stay. Done everything but
+split rails. I've cut timber and ploughed. Done everything a man could
+do. I couldn' notice de time, but I'd be glad to git back to my baby.</p>
+
+<p>"Log cabins had dirt floor, sometimes plankin' down. I
+worked late and made pretty quilts. Sometimes dey'd let us have a party.
+Saturday nights, de white people give us meat and stuff. Give us syrup
+and we'd make candy, out in de yard. We'd ask our frien's and dance all
+night. Den go to work next day. We'd clean off de yard and dance out
+dere. Christmas come, dey give us a big eggnog and give us cake. Our
+white folks did. White folks chillen had bought candy. We didn' git any,
+but dey let us play wid de white chillen. We'd play smut. Whoever beat
+wid de cards, he'd git to smut you. Take de smut from fireplace and rub
+on your face.</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor take care of us iffen we sick, so's git us well to
+git us to work.</p>
+
+<p>"Iffen dey had a pretty girl dey would take 'em, and I'se one
+of 'em, and my oldest child, he boy by Boles, almost white.</p>
+
+<p>"We had to steal away at night to have church on de ditch bank,
+and crawl home on de belly. Once overseers heered us prayin', give us
+one day each 100 lashes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Den when de Yankees come through, dey 'ud be good to de slaves,
+to keep 'em from tellin' on 'em. Freedom was give Jan. 1, 1865, but de
+slaves didn' know it 'till June 19. We'se refugees. Boles, our marster,
+sent us out and we come from Holmes County to Cherokee County in a wagon.
+We was a dodgin' in and out, runnin' from de Yankees. Marster said dey
+was runnin' us from de Yankees to keep us, but we was free and didn' know
+it. I lost my baby, its buried somewhere on dat road. Died at Red River
+and we left it. De white folks go out and buy food 'long de road and hide
+us. Dey say we'd never be free iffen dey could git to Texas wid us, but
+de people in Texas tol' us we's free. Den marster turn us loose in de
+world, without a penny. Oh, dey was awful times. We jus' worked from
+place to place after freedom.</p>
+
+<p>"When we started from Mississippi, dey tol' us de Yankees 'ud
+kill us iffen dey foun' us, and dey say, 'You ain't got no time to take
+nothin' to whar you goin'. Take your little bundle and leave all you has
+in your house.' So when we got to Texas I jus' had one dress, what I had
+on. Dat's de way all de cullud people was after freedom, never had nothin'
+but what had on de back. Some of dem had right smart in dere cabins, but
+they was skeered and dey lef' everything. Bed clothes and all you had was
+lef'. We didn' know any better den."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420102" id="nr420102"></a>420102</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/109bettybormer.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Betty Bormer (Bonner)" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Betty Bormer (Bonner)</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>BETTY BORMER, 80, was born a slave to
+Col. M.T. Johnson, who farmed at Johnson
+Station in Tarrant County. He
+owned Betty's parents, five sisters
+and four brothers, in addition to
+about 75 other slaves. After the
+family was freed, they moved with
+the other slaves to a piece of land
+Col. Johnson allowed them the use of
+until his death. Betty lives in a
+negro settlement at Stop Six, a suburb
+of Fort Worth.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I'se bo'n April 4th, in 1857, at Johnson Station. It was
+named after my marster. He had a big farm, I'se don' know how
+many acres. He had seven chillen; three boys, Ben, Tom and Mart,
+and four girls, Elizabeth, Sally, Roddy and Veanna.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Johnson was good to us cullud folks and he feeds us
+good. He kep' lots of hawgs, dat makes de meat. In de smokehouse
+am hung up meat enough for to feed de army, it looks like. We'uns
+have all de clothes we need and dey was made on de place. My mammy
+am de sewing woman and my pappy am de shoemaker. My work, for to
+nuss de small chillen of de marster.</p>
+
+<p>"On Sat'day we's let off work and lots de time some of us come
+to Fort Worth wid de marster and he gives us a nickel or a dime for
+to buy candy.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey whips de niggers sometimes, but 'twarn't hard. You know,
+de nigger gits de devilment in de head, like folks do, sometimes, and
+de marster have to larn 'em better. He done dat hisself and he have
+no overseer. No nigger tried run away, 'cause each family have a cabin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+wid bunks for to sleep on and we'uns all live in de quarters. Sich
+nigger as wants to larn read and write, de marster's girls and boys
+larns 'em. De girls larned my auntie how to play de piano.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere am lots of music on dat place; fiddle, banjo and de
+piano. Singin', we had lots of dat, songs like Ole Black Joe and
+'ligious songs and sich. Often de marster have we'uns come in his
+house and clears de dinin' room for de dance. Dat am big time, on
+special occasion. Dey not calls it 'dance' dem days, dey calls it de
+'ball.'</p>
+
+<p>"Sho', we'uns goes to church and de preacher's name, it was
+Jack Ditto.</p>
+
+<p>"Durin' de war, I notices de vittles am 'bout de same. De
+soldiers come dere and dey driv' off over de hill some of de cattle
+for to kill for to eat. Once dey took some hosses and I hears marster
+say dem was de Quantrell mens. Dey comes several times and de marster
+don' like it, but he cain't help it.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come marster tells all us to come to front of de
+house. He am standin' on de porch. Him 'splains 'bout freedom and
+says, 'You is now free and can go whar you pleases.' Den he tells us
+he have larned us not to steal and to be good and we'uns should 'member
+dat and if we'uns gets in trouble to come to him and he will help us.
+He sho' do dat, too, 'cause de niggers goes to him lots of times and
+he always helps.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster says dat he needs help on de place and sich dat stays,
+he'd pay 'em for de work. Lots of dem stayed, but some left. To dem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
+dat leaves, marster gives a mule, or cow and sich for de start. To
+my folks, marster gives some land. He doesn't give us de deed, but
+de right to stay till he dies.</p>
+
+<p>"Sho', I seen de Klux after de war but I has no 'sperience
+wid 'em. My uncle, he gits whipped by 'em, what for I don' know
+'zactly, but I think it was 'bout a hoss. Marster sho' rave 'bout dat,
+'cause my uncle weren't to blame.</p>
+
+<p>"When de Klux come de no 'count nigger sho make de scatterment.
+Some climb up de chimney or jump out de winder and hide in de
+dugout and sich.</p>
+
+<p>"De marster dies 'bout seven years after freedom and everybody
+sorry den. I never seen such a fun'ral and lots of big men from
+Austin comes. He was de blessed man!</p>
+
+<p>"I married de second year after de T.P. railroad come to
+Fort Worth, to Sam Jones and he work on de Burk Burnett stock ranch.
+I'se divorseted from him after five years and den after 12 more years
+I marries Rubbin Felps. My las' husban's named Joe Borner, but I'se
+never married to the father of my only chile. His name am George Pace.</p>
+
+<p>"I allus gits long fair, 'cause after freedom I keeps on workin'
+doin' de nussin'. Now I'se gittin' 'leven dollars from de state for
+pension, and gits it every month so now I'se sho' of somethin' to eat
+and dat makes me happy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420289" id="nr420289"></a>420289</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>HARRISON BOYD, 87, was born
+in Rusk County, Texas, a slave
+of Wash Trammel. Boyd remained
+with his master for four years
+after emancipation, then moved
+to Harrison County, where he
+now lives. His memory is poor,
+but he managed to recall a few
+incidents.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was fifteen years when they says we're free. That's the age my
+Old Missy done give me when the war stopped. She had all us niggers' ages
+in a book, and told me I was born near Henderson. My Old Marse was Wash
+Trammel and he brunged me and my mama and papa from Alabama. Mama was
+named Juliet and papa, Amos. Marse Trammel owned my grandpa and grandma,
+too, and they was named Jeanette and Josh.</p>
+
+<p>"The plantation was two made into one, and plenty big, and more'n
+a hundred slaves to work it. Marse lived in a hewed log house, weather-boarded
+out and in, and the quarters was good, log houses with bed railin's
+hewed out of logs. We raised everything we et, 'cept sugar, and Marse
+bought that in big hogsheads. We got our week's rations every Sunday, and
+when we went to eat, everybody's part was put out to them on a tin plate.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Trammel give a big cornshucking every fall. He had two bottom
+fields in corn. First we'd gather peas and cushaws and pumpkins out the
+corn field, then get the corn and pile it front the cribs. They was two
+big cribs for the corn we kep' to use and five big cribs for sale corn.
+My uncle stayed round the sale corn cribs all spring, till ginnin' time,
+'cause folks come for miles after corn. Marse had five wheat cribs and
+one rye crib. We went ten mile to Tatum to git our meal and flour ground.</p>
+
+<p>"The patterrollers darsn't come 'bout our place or bother us niggers.
+Marse Wash allus say, 'I'll patterroller my own place.' Marse was good to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
+us and only once a overseer beat a woman up a trifle, and Marse Trammel fired
+him that same day.</p>
+
+<p>"The sojers 'fiscated lots of corn from Marse and some more owners
+in Rusk County piled corn up in a big heap and made me go mind it till the
+rest the sojers got there. I was settin' top that corn pile, me and my big
+bulldog, and the General rode up. My dog growled and I made him hush. The
+General man say to me, 'Boy, you is 'scused now, go on home.' I got to a fence
+and looked back, and that General was hewin' him a hoss trough out a log. The
+sojers come in droves and set up they camp. I sot on a stump and watched them
+pass. They stayed three, four days till the corn was all fed up.</p>
+
+<p>"While they's camped there they'd cotch chickens. They had a fishin'
+pole and line and hook. They'd put a grain of corn on the hook and ride on
+they hoss and pitch the hook out 'mong the chickens. When a chicken swallowed
+the corn they'd jerk up the line with that chicken and ride off.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse had six hundred bales cotton in the Shreveport warehouse when war
+was over. He got word them Yankees done take it on a boat. He got his brother
+to take him to Shreveport and say, 'I'll follow that cotton to Hell and back.'
+He followed his cotton to Alabama and got it back, but he died and was buried
+there in Alabama 'fore Old Missy knowed it.</p>
+
+<p>"I stayed with her four years after surrender and then went to farmin'
+with my folks, for $10.00 a month. After a year or two I went to railroadin',
+helping cut the right-of-way for the T.&amp; P. Railroad, from Marshall to Longview.
+They paid us $1.50 the day and three drinks of whiskey a day.</p>
+
+<p>"I marries four times but had only one child, but I never done nothin'
+'citin'. I lives by myself now, and gits $11.00 pension to eat on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420074" id="nr420074"></a>420074</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/114isabellaboyd.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Issabella Boyd" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Issabella Boyd</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ISSABELLA BOYD was born a
+slave of Gus Wood, in Richmond,
+Va., who moved to Texas
+by boat before the Civil War.
+Isabella still lives in Beaumont.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Lemme see, I come from Richmond, Virginy, to Texas. Massa
+Gus Wood was my owner and I kin recollect my white folks. I's born
+in dat country and dey brought me over to Richmond and my papa and
+mama, too. I was jus' 'bout big 'nough to begin to 'member.</p>
+
+<p>"I come from Richmond yere on de boat, sometime de steamboat,
+sometime de big boat. When we left New Orleans dat evenin' we struck
+a big storm. Us git on dat boat in Richmond and went floatin' down
+to de big boat dat mornin'. Looks like it jus' fun for us, but every
+time we look back and think 'bout home it make us sad.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a dear, good mistus and my boss man, he furnish a house
+for he servants, a purty good house. And dey had a place for de Sunday
+School. Dem was good times. De mistus cook dinner and send it down
+for de old folks and <a name='TC_8'></a><span class="corr" title="chilen">chillen</span> to have plenty.</p>
+
+<p>"My mistus kep' me right in de house, right by her, sewing.
+I could sew so fast I git my task over 'fore de others git started
+good.</p>
+
+<p>"Lots of times when de gals wants to go to de dance I he'p
+make de dresses. I 'member de pretties' one like yesterday. It
+have tucks from de waist to de hem and had diamonds cut all in de
+skirt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Our boss man was 'ticular 'bout us being tended to and we
+was well took care of. He brung us to Beaumont when it was de plumb
+mud hole, and he settle down and try to build up and make it a go.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Wood he allus takes de paper and one night they set
+up da long time and do dey readin'. Next mornin' de old cook woman,
+she say, 'Well, dey have de big war, and lots of dem wounded.' Befo'
+long us has to take care of some dem wounded soldiers, and dey has de
+camp place near us. Dey all camp 'round dere and I don't know which
+was de Yankees and de 'federates.</p>
+
+<p>"When we all gits free, dey's de long time lettin' us know.
+Dey wants to git through with de corn and de cotton befo' dey let's
+de hands loose. Dey was people from other plantations say. 'Niggers,
+you's free and yere you workin'.' Us say, 'No, de gov'ment tell us when
+we's free.' We workin' one day when somebody from Massa Grissom place
+come by and tell us we's free, and us stop workin'. Dey tell us to go
+on workin' and de boss man he come up and he say he gwine knock us off
+de fence if we don't go to work. Mistus come out and say, 'Ain't you
+gwine make dem niggers go to work?' He send her back in de house and
+he call for de carriage and say he goin' to town for to see what de
+gov'ment goin' do. Nex' day he come back and say, 'Well, you's jus'
+as free as I is.'</p>
+
+<p>"He say to me I could stay and cook for dem, and he give me
+five dollar a month and a house to stay in and all I kin eat. I stays
+de month to do dere work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"After dat I wishes sometimes dat old times is back 'gain.
+I likes to be free, but I wasn't used to it and it was hard to know how
+to do. I 'members de dances we has in de old times, when we makes de
+music with banjo and other things. Some de good massas 'lowed de niggers
+dance in de back yard and if we goes over dere without de pass de patterroles
+gits us maybe. One time my papa he runnin' from dem patterroles and
+he run slap into de young massa and he say, 'Oh, you ain't no nigger, I
+kin tell by de smell.'</p>
+
+<p>"Dat mind me of de ghost story dey used to tell 'bout de ghosties
+what live in de big bridge down in de hollow. De niggers day say dat
+ghostie make too much noise, with all he hollerin' and he rattlin' dem
+chain. So dat night one us niggers what dey call Charlie, he say he ain't
+'fraid and he gwineter git him a ghostie, sho' 'nough. Us didn't believe
+him but purty soon us hears right smart wrastlin' with de chains and hollerin'
+down by de bridge and after 'while he come and say he git de best
+of dat ghostie, 'cause he ain't got strength like de man.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and my old man us have twelve chillens altogedder. My
+husban' he come from South Car'lina whar dey eats cottonseed. I used to
+joke him 'bout it. I allus say Virginny de best, 'cause I come from dere.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420039" id="nr420039"></a>420039</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/117ajamesboyd.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="James Boyd" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">James Boyd</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/117bjamesboyd.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="James Boyd" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">James Boyd</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JAMES BOYD was born in Phantom Valley,
+Indian Territory, in an Indian hut.
+A man named Sanford Wooldrige stole him
+and brought him to Texas, somewhere
+near Waco. James does not know his
+age, but thinks he is a hundred years
+or more old. He now lives in Itasca,
+Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's born in dat Phantom Valley, in de Indian Territory, what
+am now call Oklahoma. Us live in a Indian hut. My pappy Blue Bull Bird
+and mammy Nancy Will. She come to de Indian Territory with Santa Anna,
+from Mississippi, and pappy raise in de Territory. I don' 'member much
+'bout my folks, 'cause I stole from dem when I a real li'l feller. I's
+a-fishin' in de Cherokee River and a man name Sanford Wooldrige come by.
+You see, de white folks and de Indians have de fight 'bout dat day. I's
+on de river and I heared yellin' and shootin' and folkses runnin' and I
+slips into some bresh right near. Den come de white man and he say,
+'Everybody kilt, nigger, and dem Indians gwine kill you iffen day cotch
+you. Come with me and I ain't 'low dem hurt you.' So I goes with him.</p>
+
+<p>"He brung me to Texas, but I don't know jus' where, 'cause I
+didn't know nothin' 'bout dat place. Massa Sanford good to us, but look
+out for he missus, she sho' tough on niggers. Dere 'bout 1,600 acres
+in de plantation and de big house am nice. When de niggers wouldn't
+work dey whup 'em. Us work all week and sometime Sunday, iffen de crops
+in a rush. Massa not much on presents or money but us have warm clothes
+and plenty to eat and de dry place to live, and dat more'n lots of
+niggers has now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sometime us have de corn huskin' and dere a dollar for de one
+what shuck de mos' corn. Us have de big dance 'bout twict a year, on
+Christmas and sometime in de summer. When de white folks have dere big
+balls us niggers cook and watch dem dance. Us have fun den.</p>
+
+<p>"I likes to think of dem times when us fish all de hot day or hunts
+or jus' lazed 'round when de crops am laid by. I likes to shet de eyes
+and be back in old times and hear 'em sing, "Swing, low, Sweet Chariot."
+I can't sing, now you knows can't no old man sing what ain't got no teef
+or hair. I used to like to swing dat 'Ginia Reel and I's spry and young
+den.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere's lots I can't 'member, 'cause my mem'ry done gone weak like
+de res' of me, but I 'member when us free us throw de hats in de air and
+holler. Old massa say, 'How you gwine eat and git clothes and sech?'
+Den us sho' scairt and stays with us white folks long as us can. But 'bout
+a year after dat I gits de job punchin' cattle on a ranch in South Texas.
+I druv cattle into Kansas, over what de white folks calls de Chissum Trail.
+I worked lots of cattle and is what dey call a top hand. I's workin' for
+Massa Boyd den, and he gits me to drive some cattle to Mexico. He say
+he ain't well no more and for me to sell de cattle and send him de money
+and git de job down dere. I goes on down to Mexico and do what he say.
+I marries a gal name Martina in 1869, down in Matamoras. Us have four
+chillen and she die. Dat break me up and I drifts back to Huntsville.</p>
+
+<p>"I done change my name from Scott Bird, what it am up in de Territory,
+and make it James Boyd, 'cause I done work for Massa Boyd. I's gwine be
+'bout 108 year old in next January, iffen de Lawd spare me dat long.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"After I been in Huntsville awhile, I marries Emma Smith but us
+only stay together 'bout a year and a half. Wasn't no chillen. Den I
+drifts to Fort Bend County and dere I marries Mary McDowd and us have
+two chillen. She die with de yellow fever and off I goes for Burleson
+County. Dere I marries Sally McDave and she quits me after us have three
+chillen. Down in old Washington County I marries Frances Williams and
+us lived together till 1900. Dere am no chillen dere. Den I goes to
+Austin after she die and marries Eliza Bunton in 1903. Us have eight
+chillen and she die in 1911. Den I comes to Hill County and marries
+Mittie Cahee in 1916. She quit me. In 1924 I marries Hegar Price clost
+to Milford. Us live together now, in Itasca. Us didn't have no chillen,
+but dat don't matter, 'cause I's de daddy of 'bout twenty already.</p>
+
+<p>"I mos' allus wore de black suit when I marries. Jes' seemed
+more dressed up like. Some my wives wear white and some colors, didn't
+make much diff'rence, so dey a likely lookin' gal for me. Sometime it
+am a preacher and sometime it am Jestice of Peace, but de fust time it
+am Catholic and priest and all.</p>
+
+<p>"Talkin' 'bout all dis marryin', I mos' forgit to show you my
+scar. I fit in dat freedom war 'long side Massa Sanford and got shot.
+Dat bullet go through de breast and out de back and keep me six months
+in de bed. De fust battle I's in am at Halifax, in North Car'lina.
+Us git de news of freedom when us at Vicksburg, in Mississippi. Mos'
+us niggers 'fraid say much. De new niggers 'spect de gov'ment give
+dem de span of mules and dey be rich and not work. But dey done larn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+a lot dese past years. Us am sho' slaves now to hard work, and lucky iffen
+us git work. Lots dem niggers figgers dey'd git dere massa's land, but
+dey didn't. Dey oughta of knowed dey wouldn't. Warn't no plantation ever
+divided I knowed of, but some de massas give de oldest slaves a li'l piece
+land.</p>
+
+<p>"After de cattle days done gone, I farms in Hill County. I works
+twelve year for Massa Claude Wakefield, right near Milford, too. De old
+man ain't due to live nowhere long and I's gittin' 'bout ready to cross
+de river. I's seed a heap of dis here earth and de people in it, but I
+tells you it am sho' hard time now. Us is old and cripple' and iffen
+de white folks don't holp us I don't know what us gwine do.</p>
+
+<p>"Some dese young niggers gone plumb wild with dere cigars and
+cars and truckin' and jazzin' and sech. Some go to school and larn like
+white folks and teach and be real helpful. But talk 'bout workin' in
+slave time&mdash;'twarn't so hard as now. Den you fuss 'cause dere's work,
+now you fuss 'cause dere ain't no work. But den us have somethin' to
+eat and wear and a place to sleep, and now us don't know one day what
+gwine fill us tomorrow, or nothin'.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd sho' like to shake Massa Boyd's hand again and hear him
+come singin' down de lane. Us hear him sing or whistle long 'fore he
+git dere and it mighty good to see him. De slaves allus say, 'I's gwine
+'way tomorrow,' and I guess I's gwine 'way pretty soon tomorrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420195" id="nr420195"></a>420195</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JERRY BOYKINS, spry and jolly at
+the age of 92, lived with his aged
+wife in their own cabin at 1015
+Plum St., Abilene, Texas. He was
+born a slave to John Thomas Boykin,
+Troupe Co., Georgia, 80 miles from
+Lagrange, Ga. His master was a very
+wealthy plantation owner, working
+1,000 slaves.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I been well taken care of durin' my life. When I was
+young I lived right in de big house with my marster. I was houseboy.
+My mother's name was Betsy Ann Boykin and she was cook for Old Missus.
+My grandpa was blacksmith. I slept on a pallet in de kitchen and in
+winter time on cold nights I 'members how cold I would get. I'd wake
+up and slip in by marsters bed and den I'd say, 'Marster John, I's
+about to freeze.' He'd say, 'You ought to freeze, you little black
+devil. What you standin' dere for?' I'd say, 'Please, marster John,
+jes' let me crawl in by your feet.' He'd say, 'Well, I will dis one
+time,' and dat's de way I'd do every cold night.</p>
+
+<p>"I was full of mischief and I'd tu'n de mules out of de lot,
+jus' to see de stableboy git a lickin'. One time I wanted a fiddle a
+white man named Cocoanut Harper kep' tryin' to sell me for $7.50. I
+didn' never have any money, 'cept a little the missie give me, so I kep'
+teasin' her to buy de fiddle for me. She was allus on my side, so she
+tol' me to take some co'n from de crib and trade in for de fiddle. In
+de night I slips out and hitch up de mules and fetched de co'n to old
+Harper's house and traded for dat fiddle. Den I hides out and play it,
+so's marster wouldn' fin' out, but he did and he whip all de daylight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+outta me. When de missie try to whip me, I jes' wrop up in her big
+skirts and she never could hurt me much.</p>
+
+<p>"I allus ate my meals in de house at de white folks table, after
+dey done et. Iffen I couldn' sit in de marster's chair, I'd swell up
+like a toad.</p>
+
+<p>"De marster done all de whippin', 'cause dey had been two overseers
+killed on de plantation for whippin' slaves till de blood run out
+dey body.</p>
+
+<p>"Was I bovered with haints and spooks? I been meetin' up with 'em
+all my life. When I was younger I was such an old scratch I'd meet 'em
+right in de road, some without heads. I'd take to my heels and then I'd
+stop and look 'round and they'd be gone.</p>
+
+<p>"I wore home-weaved shirts till I was grown, then I had some pants
+and dey was homemade, too. The women gathered womack leaves to dye de
+goods black.</p>
+
+<p>"I well rec'lects when my marster went to war. He called all us in
+de kitchen and telled us he had to go over dere and whip those sons-of-bitches
+and would be back 'fore breakfast. He didn' return for two years.
+I says, 'Marster, we sho' would have waited breakfast on you a long time.'
+He said, 'Yes; deys de hardes' sons-of-bitches to whip I ever had dealins'
+with.'</p>
+
+<p>"When war was over, he called us together and tol' us we were free.
+He said, 'Now, I'm goin' to give you a big day and after that you can stay
+and work for pay or you can go.' So he rolled out two barrels of whiskey
+and killed hogs and spread a big day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I wants to tell you 'bout how we killed hogs in my day.
+We digged a deep pit in de groun' and heated big rocks red hot and
+filled up de pit with water and dropped dem hot rocks in and got de
+water hot; den we stuck de hogs and rolled 'em in dat pit.</p>
+
+<p>"Soon after I's free a man come for me from Louisville
+to hire me as foreman in his cotton mule barn. So I went there and
+I worked in Kentucky for 18 year. Fifty-one years ago I married my
+ol' woman, Rachel Taylor, at Corsicana, Texas, and I think she's jes'
+as fine as the day I married her. We has six chillen and all works
+hard for a livin' and we got one lil' grandbaby 10 years ol'. She
+lives here at our house and we're educatin' her.</p>
+
+<p>"I knows I's goin' to live to be over 100 years ol', 'cause
+my marster done tol' me so."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420073" id="nr420073"></a>420073</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/124amonroebrackins.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Monroe Brackins" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Monroe Brackins</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/124bmonroebrackins.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Monroe Brackins" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Monroe Brackins</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>MONROE BRACKINS, born in Monroe Co.,
+Mississippi, in 1853, was the property
+of George Reedes. He was brought
+to Medina County, Texas, when two years
+old. Monroe learned to snare and break
+mustangs and became a cowpuncher. He
+lives in Hondo, Texas. He has an air
+of pride and self-respect, and explained
+that he used little dialect because he
+learned to talk from the "white folks"
+as he was growing up.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was bo'n in Mississippi, Monroe County. I'm 84 years old.
+My master, George Reedes, brought me, my father and mother
+and my two sisters to Texas when I was two years old. My father
+was Nelson Brackins and my mother was Rosanna.</p>
+
+<p>"My master settled here at a place called Malone, on the Hondo
+River. He went into the stock business. Our house there was
+a little, old picket house with a grass roof over it out of the
+sage grass. The bed was made with a tick of shucks and the
+children slept on the floor. The boss had just a little lumber
+house. Later on he taken us about 20 miles fu'ther down on the
+Hondo, the Old Adams Ranch, and he had a rock house.</p>
+
+<p>"I was about six years old then. I had some shoes, to keep the
+thorns outa my feet, and I had rawhide leggin's. We just had
+such clothes as we could get, old patched-up clothes. They just
+had that jeans cloth, homemade clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"I was with George Reedes 10 or 12 years. It was my first
+trainin' learnin' the stock business and horse breakin.' He was
+tol'able good to us, to be slaves as we was. His brother had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+hired man that whipped me once, with a quirt. I've heard my father
+and mother tell how they whipped 'em. They'd tie 'em down on a log
+or up to a post and whip 'em till the blisters rose, then take a paddle
+and open 'em up and pour salt in 'em. Yes'm, they whipped the
+women. The most I remember about that, my father and sister was in
+the barn shuckin' co'n and the master come in there and whipped my
+sister with a cowhide whip. My father caught a lick in the face and
+he told the master to keep his whip offen him. So the master started
+on my father and he run away. When he finally come in he was so wild
+his master had to call him to get orders for work, and finally the
+boss shot at him, but they didn't whip him any more. Of course, some
+of 'em whipped with more mercy. They had a whippin' post and when
+they strapped 'em down on a log they called it a 'stroppin' log.'</p>
+
+<p>"I remember they tasked the cotton pickers in Mississippi. They had
+to bring in so many pounds in the evenin' and if they didn't they
+got a whippin' for it. My sister there, she had to bring in 900 pounds
+a day. Well, cotton was heavier there. Most any of 'em could pick
+900 pounds. It was heavier and fluffier. We left the cotton country
+in Mississippi, but nobody knew anything about cotton out here that I
+knew of.</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard my parents say too, them men that had plantations and a
+great lot of slaves, they would speculate with 'em and would have a
+chain that run from the front ones to the back ones. Sometimes they
+would have 15 or 20 miles to make to get them to the sale place, but
+they couldn't make a break. Where they expected to make a sale, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>
+kept 'em in corrals and they had a block there to put 'em up on and bid
+'em off. The average price was about $500, but some that had good practice,
+like a blacksmith, brought a good price, as high as $1,500.</p>
+
+<p>"I heard my mother and father say they would go 15 or 20 miles to a dance,
+walkin', and get back before daylight, before the 'padderollers' got 'em.
+The slaves would go off when they had no permission and them that would
+ketch 'em and whip 'em was the 'padderollers.' Sometimes they would have
+an awful race.</p>
+
+<p>"If they happened to be a slave on the plantation that could jes' read a
+little print, they would get rid of him right now. He would ruin the niggers,
+they would get too smart. The' was no such thing as school here for
+culluds in early days. The white folks we was raised up with had pretty
+good education. That's why I don't talk like most cullud folks. I was
+about grown and the' was an English family settled close, about half a mile,
+I guess. They had a little boy, his name was Arthur Ederle, and he come
+over and learned me how to spell 'cat' and 'dog' and 'hen' and such like.
+I was right around about 20 years old. I couldn't sign my name when I was
+18 years old.</p>
+
+<p>"I can remember one time when I was young, I saw something I couldn't
+'magine what it was, like a billygoat reared up on a tree. But I knew
+the' wasn't a billygoat round there near, nor no other kinds of goats.
+It was in the daytime and I was out in a horse pasture, I was jes' walkin'
+along, huntin', when I saw that sight. I guess I got within 50 steps of
+it, then I turned around and got away. I never did think much about a
+ghost, but I think it could be possible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember scarcely anything about the war because I was so little
+and times was so different; the country wasn't settled up and everything
+was wild, no people, hardly. Of course, my life was in the woods, you
+might say, didn't hardly know when Sunday come.</p>
+
+<p>"The northern soldiers never did get down in here that I know of. I know
+once, when they was enlisting men to go to battle a whole lot of 'em didn't
+want to fight and would run away and dodge out, and they would follow 'em
+and try to make 'em fight. They had a battle up here on the Nueces once
+and killed some of 'em. I know my boss was in the bunch that followed 'em
+and he got scared for fear this old case would be brought up after the war.
+The company that followed these men was called Old Duff Company. I think
+somewhere around 40 was in the bunch that they followed, but I don't know
+how many was killed. They was a big bluff and a big water hole and they
+said they was throwed in that big water hole.</p>
+
+<p>"We had possums and 'coons to eat sometimes. My father, he gen'rally cooked
+the 'coons, he would dress 'em and stew 'em and then bake 'em. My mother
+wouldn't eat them. There was plenty of rabbits, too. Sometimes when they
+had potatoes they cooked 'em with 'em. I remember one time they had just
+a little patch of blackhead sugar cane. After the freedom, my mother had
+a kind of garden and she planted snap beans and watermelons pretty much
+every year.</p>
+
+<p>"The master fed us tol'bly well. Everything was wild, beef was free, just
+had to bring one in and kill it. Once in awhile, of a Sunday mornin', we'd get
+biscuit flour bread to eat. It was a treat to us. They measured the flour out
+and it had to pan out just like they measured. He give us a little somethin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
+ever' Christmas and somethin' good to eat. I heard my people say coffee was
+high, at times, and I know we didn't get no flour, only Sunday mornin'. We
+lived on co'nbread, mostly, and beef and game outta the woods. That was durin'
+the war and after the war, too.</p>
+
+<p>"I was around about 6 or 7 years old when we was freed. We worked for George
+Reedes awhile, then drifted on down to the Frio river and stayed there about a
+year, then we come to Medina County and settled here close to where I was raised.
+We didn't think it hard times at all right after the war. The country was wild
+and unsettled, with ranches 15 or 20 miles apart. You never did see anybody
+and we didn't know really what was goin' on in the rest of the country. Sometimes
+something could happen in 5 miles of us and we didn't know it for a month.</p>
+
+<p>"I was on the Adams Ranch on the Hondo when my master come out and told us we
+were as free as he was. He said we could stay on and work or could go if we
+wanted to. He gave my mother and father 50 cents apiece and 25 cents for the
+children. We stayed awhile and then went west to the Frio.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to be along with old man Big-foot Wallace in my early days. He was a
+mighty fine man. I worked for the people that was gathering stock together
+there. Big Foot raised nice horses, old reg'lar Texas horses, and they was better
+than the reg'lar old Spanish bronco. I used to go to his camp down on the
+San Miguel. He lived in one part and his chickens in the rest of his house.
+His friends liked to hear him talk about his travels. He used to run stock
+horses and had a figger 7 on the left shoulder for his brand and the tip of each
+ear split was his earmark.</p>
+
+<p>"The last man I broke horses for was Wilson Bailey. I was there about 12 years.
+He raised just cavi-yard&mdash;we called it a cavi-yard of horses, just the same
+thing as a <span class="u">remuda</span>. We called 'em that later, but we got that from the Spanish.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>
+We would get up in a tree with our loop till the horse come under and drop
+it down on him. When they were so spoilt, we got 'em in a sort of cavi-yard
+and drove 'em under trees and caught 'em in a snare. We had lots of
+wild horses, just this side of Pearsall. 'Bout the only way I'd get throwed
+was to get careless. We'd ketch 'im up, hackamore 'im up, saddle 'im up
+and get on 'im and let 'im go. Sometimes he'd be too wild to pitch, he'd
+break and run and you had to let 'im run himself down. I used to rather
+ketch up a wild horse and break 'im than to eat breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>"When I first started farmin' I taken up some state land, about 80 acres,
+down on Black Creek, in Medina County. I stayed there ten or twelve years.
+Cotton hadn't got in this country and I raised some corn, sugar cane and
+watermelons. I commenced with horses, but 'long 'way down the line I used
+oxen some, too. I used one of those old walking plows.</p>
+
+<p>"I sold that place and moved to a place on the Tywaukney Creek (Tonkawa).
+I come up to church and met my wife then. Her name was Ida Bradley and I
+was 38 years old. We lived down on the Tywaukney right about 23 years and
+raised our children there. We jes' had a little home weddin'. I wore a
+suit, dark suit. We got married about 8 o'clock in the evenin' and we had
+barbecue, cake and ice cream. You see, in them times I wasn't taught anything
+about years and dates, but I judge it was about 25 years after the
+war before I settled on the Tywaukney."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420310" id="nr420310"></a>420310</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>GUS BRADSHAW was born about
+1845, at Keecheye, Alabama,
+a slave of David Cavin. He
+recalls being brought to Texas
+in the 1850's, when the Cavin
+family settled near old Port
+Caddo. Gus remained with his
+master for ten years after
+emancipation. He now lives
+alone on a fifty acre farm
+seven miles northeast of Marshall,
+which he bought in
+1877. Gus receives an $11.00
+per month pension.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born at Keecheye, Alabama, and belonged to old man David
+Cavin. The only statement I can make 'bout my age is I knows I was 'bout
+twenty years old when us slaves was freed. I never knowed my daddy, but
+my mammy was Amelia Cavin. I's heard her say she's born in Alabama more
+times than I got fingers and toes. Our old master brung us to Texas when
+I's a good sized kid. I 'members like it am yesterday, how we camped more'n
+a week in New Orleans. I seed 'em sell niggers off the block there jus' like
+they was cattle. Then we came to old Port Caddo on Caddo Lake and master
+settles a big farm close to where the boats run. Port Caddo was a big shipping
+place then, and Dud and John Perry run the first store there. The
+folks hauled cotton there from miles away.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy's folks was named Maria and Joe Gloster and they come to Texas
+with the Cavins. My grandma say to me, 'Gus, don't run you mouth too much
+and allus have manners to whites and blacks.' Chillen was raise right then,
+but now they come up any way. I seed young niggers turn the dipper up and
+drink 'fore old folks. I wouldn't dare do that when I's comin' up.</p>
+
+<p>"Maria say to me one day, 'Son, I's here when the stars fell.'
+She tell me they fell like a sheet and spread over the ground. Ike Hood, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+old blacksmith on our place, he told me, too. I says, 'Ike, how old was you when
+the stars fell?' He say, 'I's thirty-two.'</p>
+
+<p>"Massa David had big quarters for us niggers, with chimneys and fireplaces.
+They use to go round and pick up old hawg or cow bones to bile with greens and cabbage.
+They was plenty of wild game, and deer and wolves howlin' right through this
+country, but you can't even find the track of one now.</p>
+
+<p>"The first work I done was pickin' cotton. Every fellow was out at daylight
+pickin' cotton or hoein' or plowin'. They was one overseer and two nigger
+drivers. But at night you could hear us laughin' and talkin' and singin' and
+prayin', and hear them fiddles and things playin'. It look like darkies git 'long
+more better then than now. Some folks says niggers oughtn't to be slaves, but I
+says they ought, 'cause they jus' won't do right onless they is made to do it.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa David allus give us eggnog and plenty good whiskey at Christmas.
+We had all day to eat and drink and sing and dance. We didn't git no presents,
+but we had a good time.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know much 'bout the war, only Massa Bob Perry come over one day
+and say to Grandma Maria, 'They is surrender, Maria, you is free.' She say to
+him, 'I don't care, I gwine stay with my white folks.'</p>
+
+<p>"The Klu Klux done lots of cuttin' up round there. Two of 'em come to
+Dr. Taylor's house. He had two niggers what run off from the Klux and they want
+to whip 'em, but Dr. Taylor wouldn't 'low 'em. I knowed old Col. Alford, one of
+the Klux leaders, and he was a sight. He told me once, 'Gus, they done send me
+to the pen for Kluxing.' I say, 'Massa Alford, didn't they make a gentleman of
+you?' He say, 'Hell, no!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I knowed old Col. Haggerdy, too. He marries a widow of a rich old Indian
+chief, name McIntosh. He broke a treaty with his people and had to hide out in
+a cave a long time, and his wife brung food to him. One time when she went to the
+cave he was gone. She knowed then the Indians done git him and kilt him for
+vi'latin' the treaty. So she marries old Col. Haggerdy.</p>
+
+<p>"The only time I votes was against whiskey. I voted for it. Some white
+folks done say they'd whip me if I voted for it, but Mr. Joe Strickland done told
+me they jus' tryin' scare me, so I voted for it. I don't think niggers ought to
+vote. If some niggers had things in hand 'stead of white folks, I couldn't stay
+here. These eddicated niggers am causin' the devilment. The young niggers ain't
+got no 'spect for old age.</p>
+
+<p>"I bought and paid for fifty acres land here in Harrison County and I has
+lived on it sixty years. I lived with my wife fifty years 'fore she died and
+done raise two chillen. These young niggers don't stay married fifty days, sometimes.
+I don't mess with 'em, but if I needs help I goes to the white folks.
+If you 'have youself, they allus help you if you needs it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420240" id="nr420240"></a>420240</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/133wesbrady.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Wes Brady" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Wes Brady</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WES BRADY, 88, was born a
+slave of John Jeems, who
+had a farm five miles north
+of Marshall. Wes has farmed
+in Harrison County all his
+life. He now lives with
+friends on the Long's Camp
+Road, and draws a $11.00
+monthly pension.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born and raised in Harrison County, and I was eighty-eight
+years old this July past and has wore myself out here in this county.
+I was born on Massa John Jeem's place, on the old Jefferson Road, and my
+father was Peter Calloway, and he was born in Alabama and his whole fam'ly
+brought to Texas by nigger traders. My mother was Harriet Ellis and I
+had two brothers named George and Andrew, and four sisters, Lula and Judy
+and Mary and Sallie. My old Grandpa Phil told me how he helped run the
+Indians off the land.</p>
+
+<p>"Grandpa Phil told me 'bout meetin' his massa. Massa Jeems had
+three or four places and grandpa hadn't seed him and he went to one of the
+other farms and meets a man goin' down the road. The man say, 'Who you
+belong to?' Grandpa Phil say, 'Massa Jeems.' The man say, 'Is he a mean
+man?' Grandpa say, 'I don't know him, but they say he's purty tight.' It
+was Massa Jeems talkin' and he laughs and gives Grandpa Phil five dollars.</p>
+
+<p>"We niggers lived in log houses and slep' on hay mattress with
+lowell covers, and et fat pork and cornbread and 'lasses and all kinds
+garden stuff. If we et flour bread, our women folks had to slip the flour
+siftin's from missy's kitchen and darsn't let the white folks know it.
+We wore one riggin' lowell clothes a year and I never had shoes on till
+after surrender come. I run all over the place till I was a big chap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
+in jes' a long shirt with a string tied round the bottom for a belt.
+I went with my young massa that way when he hunted in the woods, and toted
+squirrels for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Some white folks might want to put me back in slavery if I tells how
+we was used in slavery time, but you asks me for the truth. The overseer was
+'straddle his big horse at three o'clock in the mornin', roustin' the hands
+off to the field. He got them all lined up and then come back to the house
+for breakfas'. The rows was a mile long and no matter how much grass was in
+them, if you leaves one sprig on your row they beats you nearly to death.
+Lots of times they weighed cotton by candlelight. All the hands took dinner
+to the field in buckets and the overseer give them fifteen minutes to git
+dinner. He'd start cuffin' some of them over the head when it was time to
+stop eatin' and go back to work. He'd go to the house and eat his dinner
+and then he'd come back and look in all the buckets and if a piece of anything
+that was there when he left was et, he'd say you was losin' time and
+had to be whipped. He'd drive four stakes in the ground and tie a nigger
+down and beat him till he's raw. Then he'd take a brick and grind it up in
+a powder and mix it with lard and put it all over him and roll him in a sheet.
+It'd be two days or more 'fore that nigger could work 'gain. I seed one nigger
+done that way for stealin' a meat bone from the meathouse. That nigger got
+fifteen hundred lashes. The li'l chaps would pick up egg shells and play with
+them and if the overseer seed them he'd say you was stealin' eggs and give you
+a beatin'. I seed long lines of slaves chained together driv by a white man
+on a hoss, down the Jefferson road.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The first work I done was drappin' corn, and then cow-pen boy
+and sheep herder. All us house chaps had to shell a half bushel corn every
+night for to feed the sheep. Many times I has walked through the quarters
+when I was a little chap, cryin' for my mother. We mos'ly only saw her on
+Sunday. Us chillen was in bed when the folks went to the field and come back.
+I 'members wakin' up at night lots of times and seein' her make a little
+mush on the coals in the fireplace, but she allus made sho' that overseer
+was asleep 'fore she done that.</p>
+
+<p>"One time the stock got in the field and the overseer 'cuses a
+old man and jumps on him and breaks his neck. When he seed the old man dead,
+he run off to the woods, but massa sent some nigger after him and say for
+him to come back, the old man jus' got overhet and died.</p>
+
+<p>"We went to church on the place and you ought to heared that
+preachin'. Obey your massa and missy, don't steal chickens and eggs and
+meat, but nary a word 'bout havin' a soul to save.</p>
+
+<p>"We had parties Saturday nights and massa come out and showed us
+new steps. He allus had a extra job for us on Sunday, but he gave us Christmas
+Day and all the meat we wanted. But if you had money you'd better hide it,
+'cause he'd git it.</p>
+
+<p>"The fightin' was did off from us. My father went to war to wait on
+Josh Calloway. My father never come back. Massa Jeems cussed and 'bused us
+niggers more'n ever, but he took sick and died and stepped off to Hell 'bout
+six months 'fore we got free. When we was free, they beat drums in Marshall.
+I stayed on 'bout seven months and then my mother and me went to farmin' for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
+ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>"I wore myself out right in this county and now I'm too old to work.
+These folks I lives with takes good care of me and the gov'ment gives me
+$11.00 a month what I is proud to git.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420165" id="nr420165"></a>420165</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JACOB BRANCH, about 86, was a slave
+of the Van Loos family, in Louisiana,
+who sold him when a baby to Elisha
+Stevenson, of Double Bayou, Texas.
+Jacob helps his son, Enrichs, farm,
+and is unusually agile for his age.
+They live in the Double Bayou settlement,
+near Beaumont, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's bought and fotched here to Double Bayou when I's jes'
+three year old. I and my half-brother, Eleck, he de baby, was both
+born in Louisiana on de Van Loos place, but I go by de name of Branch,
+'cause my daddy name Branch. My mama name Renee. Dey split up us
+family and Elisha Stevenson buy my mama and de two chillen. I ain't
+never see my daddy no more and don't 'member him at all.</p>
+
+<p>"Old 'Lisha Stevenson he a great one for to raise pigs. He sell
+sometime 500 hawgs at one time. He take he dogs and drive dem hawgs 'cross
+de Neches River all by hisself, to sell dem. Dat how he git money to buy
+de niggers, sellin' hawgs and cowhides.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa he sho' a good old man, but de old missy, she a tornado!
+Her name Miss 'Liza. She could be terrible mean. But sometime she take
+her old morrel&mdash;dat a sack make for to carry things in&mdash;and go out
+and come back with plenty joints of sugar cane. She take a knife and
+sit on de gallary and peel dat cane and give a joint to every one de
+li'l chillen.</p>
+
+<p>"Mama, she work up in de big house, doin' cookin' and washin'.
+Old massa go buy a cullud man name Uncle Charley Fenner. He a good
+old cullud man. Massa brung him to de quarters and say, 'Renee, here
+you husband,' and den he turn to Uncle and say, 'Charley, dis you woman.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+Den dey consider marry. Dat de way dey marry den, by de massa's word. Uncle
+Charley, he good step-pa to us.</p>
+
+<p>"De white folks have de good house with a brick chimney. Us quarters
+de good, snug li'l house with flue and oven. Dey didn't bother to have
+much furn'chure, 'cause us in dere only to sleep. Us have homemake bench
+and 'Georgia Hoss' bed with hay mattress. All us cookin' and eatin' done in
+de kitchen de big house. Us have plenty to eat, too. De smokehouse allus
+full white 'taters and cracklin's hangin' on de wall. Us git dem mos' any
+time us want, jes' so long us didn't waste nothin'. Dey have big jar with
+buttermilk and 'low us drink all us want.</p>
+
+<p>"Old lady 'Liza, she have three women to spin when she git ready
+make de clothes for everybody. Dey spin and weave and make all us clothes.
+Us all wear shirt tail till us 'bout twelve or fourteen, boys and gals, too.
+You couldn't tell us apart.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chillen start to work soon's us could toddle. First us gather
+firewood. Iffen it freezin' or hot us have to go to toughen us up. When us
+git li'l bigger us tend de cattle and feed hosses and hawgs. By time us good
+sprouts us pickin' cotton and pullin' cane. Us ain't never idle. Sometime
+us git far out in de field and lay down in de corn row and nap. But, Lawdy,
+iffen dey cotch you, dey sho' wore you out! Sunday de onliest rest day and
+den de white folks 'low us play.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa never whup Uncle Charley, 'cause he good nigger and work hard.
+It make missy mad and one time when massa gone she go down in de field. Uncle
+Charley hoein' corn jes' like massa done told him, jes' singin' and happy.
+Old missy she say, 'Nigger, I's sho gwineter whup you.' He say, 'What for you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>
+whup me. I doin' every bit what old massa done tell me.' But missy think
+he gittin' it too good, 'cause he ain't never been whupped. She clumb over
+de fence and start down de row with de cowhide. Uncle Charley, he ain't
+even raise he voice, but he cut de las' weed outen dat corn and commence
+to wave he hoe in de air, and he say, 'Missy, I ain't 'vise you come any
+step closeter.' Dat sho' make her mad, but she 'fraid to do nothin'.</p>
+
+<p>"One time she have 'nother nigger name Charlie. Massa go on de trip
+and she tell dis Charley iffen he ain't finish grindin' all de cornmeal
+by Monday she gwineter give him a t'ousand lashes. He try, but he ain't
+able make dat much meal, so come Monday he runned off in de bayou. Dat
+night come de big freeze and he down dere with water up to he knees and
+when massa come home and go git him, he so froze he couldn't walk. Dey
+brung him in de kitchen and old missy cuss him out. Soon's he thaw out,
+he done die right dere on de spot.</p>
+
+<p>"My pore mama! Every washday old missy give her de beatin'. She
+couldn't keep de flies from speckin' de clothes overnight. Old missy git up
+soon in de mornin', 'fore mama have time git dem specks off. She snort and
+say, 'Renee, I's gwineter teach you how to wash.' Den she beat mama with
+de cowhide. Look like she cut my mama in two. Many's de time I edges up
+and tries take some dem licks off my mama.</p>
+
+<p>"Slavery, one to 'nother, was purty rough. Every plantation have
+to answer for itself.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to know lots of songs, but I don't know many now. Spiritual
+songs, dey comes through visions. Dat's why cullud folks can make dem better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+dan white folks. I knowed one song what start out&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+"'De Jews done kill pore Jesus,<br />
+And bury him in de sepulchur;<br />
+De grave wouldn't hold him,<br />
+Dey place guards all 'round him,<br />
+But de angels move de stone,<br />
+De Jews done kill pore Jesus,<br />
+But de grave it wouldn't hold him.'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Dey 'nother song what say&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Run, sinner, run,<br />
+Gawd is a-callin' you.<br />
+Run, sinner, run,<br />
+De fire'll overtake you.'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"When I 'bout ten dey sets me ginnin' cotton. Old massa he done make
+de cotton with de hand crank. It built on a bench like. I gin de cotton by
+turnin' dat crank. When I gits a lapful I puts it in de tow sack and dey
+take it to Miss Susan to make de twine with it. I warm and damp de cotton
+'fore de fireplace 'fore I start ginnin' it.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere school for de white chillen in Double Bayou and I used to go meet
+de chillen comin' home and dey stop longside de way and teach me my ABC. Dey
+done carry me as far as Baker in de book when old missy find it out and make
+dem stop. De war comin' on den and us daren't even pick up a piece of paper.
+De white folks didn't want us to larn to read for fear us find out things.</p>
+
+<p>"Us livin' down by de Welborn's den and I seed dem haul de logs out of
+Pine Island to make dat Welborn house. Old man Hamshire and old man Remington
+builded dat Welborn house. It 'cross de bayou, left hand side Smith's ferry.
+Dat house still standin' in parts.</p>
+
+<p>"One mornin' Eleck and me git up at crack of dawn to milk. All at once
+come a shock what shake de earth. De big fish jump clean out de bay and turtles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
+and alligators run out dere ponds. Dey plumb ruint Galveston! Us runned in
+de house and all de dishes and things done jump out de shelf. Dat de first
+bombardment of Galveston. De sojers put powder under people's houses and
+blowin' up Galveston.</p>
+
+<p>"Young massa Shake Stevenson he vol'teer and git kilt somewheres in
+Virginny. Young massa Tucker Stevenson, he ain't 'lieve in war and he say
+he never gwine fight. He hide in de woods so de conscrip' men can't find
+him. Old man LaCour come 'round and say he have orders for find Tucker
+and bring him in dead or 'live. But 'cause he old massa's friend, he say,
+'Why don't you buy de boy's services off?' So old massa take de boat, 'Catrig,'
+us calls it, and loads it with corn and sich and us pole it down to
+Galveston. De people need dat food so much, dat load supplies done buy
+off Massa Tucker from fightin'.</p>
+
+<p>"After war starts lots of slaves runned off to git to de Yankees.
+All dem in dis part heads for de Rio Grande river. De Mexicans rig up flat-boats
+out in de middle de river, tied to stakes with rope. When de cullud
+people gits to de rope dey can pull deyself 'cross de rest de way on dem
+boats. De white folks rid de 'Merican side dat river all de time, but plenty
+slaves git through, anyway.</p>
+
+<p>"I wait on lots of sojers. I have to get smartweed and bile it in
+salt water to bath dem in. Dat help de rheumatism. Dem sojers have rheumatism
+so bad for standin' day and night in de water.</p>
+
+<p>"Us sho' in good health dem days. Iffen a cullud man weak dey move
+de muscles in he arms, bleed him and give him plenty bacon and cornbread,
+and he git so strong he could lift a log. Dey didn't go in for cuttin',<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+like dey do now. Dey git herbs out de woods, blue mass and quinine and calomel.
+I think people jes' die under pills, now. Old lady Field she make medicine
+with snakeroot and larkspur and marshroot and redroot.</p>
+
+<p>"After war am over Massa Tucker brung de freedom papers and read dem.
+He say us all am free as Hell. Old man Charley so happy he jes' roll on de
+floor like a hoss and kick he heels. De nex' mornin' mama start do somethin'
+and missy cuss her out. I runned to missy and say, 'Us free as de bird.' She sho'
+whup me for dat, but no more, 'cause she so mean us all leave.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat funny. Old man LaFour, what de head de patterrollers and so mean,
+he de first to help us niggers after freedom. He loan us he ox team and pay
+Uncle Charley a dollar de day for work and a dollar every time my mama wash for
+he wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa and missy split up. She so bad she ain't give him no better
+show dan she done us. Old massa gittin' some peaches one day and she come after
+him with de buggy whip. He git on he hoss and say, 'Liz, you's gittin' broad
+as de beef. You too big for me.' She so mad she spit fire. Lightenin' done
+kill her, she upstairs and de big streak hits her. It knock her under de bed.</p>
+
+<p>"De first freedom work I done am pullin' up potato hills at two bits
+a hunnerd. 'Bout two bits de most us could make in one day. I work two days
+to buy mama de turkey hen for Christmas. Anything mama want I think she got to
+have. I's growed 'fore I gits much as four bits a day. I's done earn as much
+as $1.50 in my time, though.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's 25 year old I marries Betty Baker but she dead now. De Rev.
+Patterson he marry us. Us has four chillen livin'. Turah and Renee, dat my gals,
+and Enrichs and Milton, dat my boys. Milton work in Houston and Enrich help me
+farm. I's a Mason 30 year. De lodge split up now, but it answer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420069" id="nr420069"></a>420069</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/143awilliambranch.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="William Branch" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">William Branch</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/143bwilliambranch.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="William Branch" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">William Branch</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILLIAM BRANCH, born 1850, 322 Utah
+St., San Antonio, Texas. Eyesight
+is so poor someone must lead him to
+the store or to church. William
+kneels at his bedside each evening
+at five and says his prayers. In
+this ceremony he spends a half hour
+or more chanting one Negro spiritual
+after another.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Yahsur, I was a slave. I was bo'n May 13, 1850, on
+the place of Lawyer Woodson in Lunenburg County, Virginia. It
+was 'bout 75 miles southwest of Richmond. They was two big plantations,
+one on one side the road, yother the yother. My marster
+owned 75 slaves. He raised tobacco and cotton. I wukked tobacco
+sometime, sometime cotton. Dere wasn't no whippin' or switchin'.
+We had to wuk hard. Marster Woodson was a rich man. He live in a
+great big house, a lumber house painted white. And it had a great
+big garden.</p>
+
+<p>"De slaves lives in a long string of log houses. Dey had dirt
+floors and shingle roofs. Marster Woodson's house was shingle roof
+too. We had home cured bacon and veg'tables, dried co'n, string
+beans and dey give us hoe cakes baked in hot ashes. Dere always was
+lots of fresh milk.</p>
+
+<p>"How'd us slaves git de clothes? We carded de cotton, den de
+women spin it on a spinnin' wheel. After dat day sew de gahment
+togeddah on a sewin' machine. Yahsur, we's got sewin' machine, wid
+a big wheel and a handle. One woman tu'n de handle and de yuther
+woman do de sewin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dat's how we git de clothes for de 75 slaves. Marster's clothes?
+We makes dem for de whole fam'ly. De missis send de pattren and de slaves
+makes de clothes. Over nigh Richmond a fren' of Marster Woodson has 300
+slaves. Dey makes all de clothes for dem.</p>
+
+<p>"I was with Marster twel de Yankees come down to Virginia in 1861.
+De sergeant of de Yankees takes me up on his hoss and I goes to Washington
+wid de Yankees. I got to stay dere 'cause I'd run away from my marster.</p>
+
+<p>"I stay at de house of Marse Frank Cayler. He's an ole time hack
+driver. I was his houseboy. I stay dere twel de year 1870, den I goes to
+Baltimore and jines de United States Army. We's sent to Texas 'count of de
+Indians bein' so bad. Dey put us on a boat at Baltimore and we landed at
+Galveston.</p>
+
+<p>"Den we marches from Galveston to Fort Duncan. It was up, up, de
+whole time. We ties our bedclothes and rolls dem in a bundle wid a strap.
+We walks wid our guns and bedclothes on our backs, and de wagons wid de
+rations follows us. Dey is pulled by mules. We goes 15 miles ev'ry day.
+We got no tents, night come, we unrolls de blankets and sleeps under de
+trees, sometime under de brush.</p>
+
+<p>"For rations we got canned beans, milk and hardtack. De hard tacks
+is 3 or 4 in a box, we wets 'em in water and cooks 'em in a skillet. We gits
+meat purty often. When we camps for de night de captain say, 'You'all kin
+go huntin'.' Before we git to de mountains dere's deer and rabbits and dey
+ain't no fences. Often in de dark we sees a big animal and we shoots. When
+we bring 'im to camp, de captain say, 'Iffen de cow got iron burns de rancher
+gwineter shoot hisself a nigger scout.' But de cow ain't got no iron, it's&mdash;what
+de name of de cow what ain't feel de iron? Mavrick, yahsur. We eats lots<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
+of dem Mavricks. We's goin' 'long de river bottom, and before we comes to
+Fort Duncan we sees de cactus and muskeet. Dere ain't much cattle, but one
+colored scout shoots hisself a bear. Den we eats high. Fort Duncan were
+made of slab lumber and de roof was gravel and grass.</p>
+
+<p>"Den we's ordered to Fort Davis and we's in de mountains now. Climb,
+climb all day, and de Indians give us a fit ev'ry day. We kills some Indians,
+dey kills a few soldiers. We was at Fort Clark a while. At Fort Davis I jines
+de colored Indian Scouts, I was in Capt. George L. Andrew's Co. K.</p>
+
+<p>"We's told de northern Cheyennes is on a rampus and we's goin' to Fort
+Sill in Indian Territory. Before we gits to Fort Concho (San Angelo) de Comanches
+and de Apaches give us a fit. We fitten' 'em all de time and when we gits away
+from de Comanches and Apaches we fitten de Cheyennes. Dey's seven feet tall.
+Dey couldn't come through that door.</p>
+
+<p>"When we gits to Fort Sill, Gen. Davidson say de Cheyennes is off de reservation,
+and he say, 'You boys is got to git dem back. Iffen you kill 'em, dey
+can't git back to de reservation.' Den we goes scoutin' for de Cheyennes and
+dey is scoutin' for us. Dey gits us first, on de Wichita River was 500 of 'em,
+and we got 75 colored Indian Scouts. Den Red Foot, de Chief of de Cheyennes,
+he come to see Capt. Lawson and say he want rations for his Indians. De captain
+say he cain't give no rations to Indians off de reservation. Red Foot say he
+don't care 'bout no reservation and he say he take what we got. Capt. Lawson
+'low we gotter git reinforcements. We got a guide in de scout troop, he call
+hisself Jack Kilmartin. De captain say, 'Jack, I'se in trouble, how kin I git
+a dispatch to Gen. Davidson?' Jack say, 'I kin git it through.' And Jack, he
+crawl on his belly and through de brush and he lead a pony, and when he gits<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
+clear he rides de pony bareback twel he git to Fort Sill. Den Gen. Davidson,
+he soun' de gin'ral alarm and he send two companies of cavalry to reinforce us.
+But de Cheyennes give 'em a fit all de way, dey's gotter cut dere way through
+de Cheyennes.</p>
+
+<p>"And Col. Shafter comes up, and goes out in de hills in his shirt sleeves
+jus' like you's sittin' dere. Dey's snow on de groun' and de wind's cole, but
+de colonel don't care, and he say, 'Whut's dis order Gen. Davidson give? Don'
+kill de Cheyennes? You kill 'em all from de cradle to de Cross.'</p>
+
+<p>"And den we starts de attack. De Cheyennes got Winchesters and rifles
+and repeaters from de government. Yahsur, de government give 'em de guns dey
+used to shoot us. We got de ole fashion muzzle loaders. You puts one ball in
+de muzzle and shove de powder down wid de ramrod. Den we went in and fit 'em,
+and 'twas like fightin' a wasp's nest. Dey kills a lot of our boys and we nearly
+wipes 'em out. Den we disarms de Cheyennes we captures, and turns dere guns in
+to de regiment.</p>
+
+<p>"I come to San Antonio after I'se mustered out and goes to work for de
+Bell Jewelry Company and stays dere twel I cain't work no more. Did I like de
+army? Yahsur, I'd ruthuh be in de army dan a plantation slave."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420230" id="nr420230"></a>420230</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/147clarabrim.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Clara Brim" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Clara Brim</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>CLARA BRIM, slave of William
+Lyons of Branch, Louisiana,
+now lives in Beaumont, Texas.
+The town of Branch was known
+in slave days as Plaquemine
+Bouley. Clara estimates her
+age to be 100 or 102, and from
+various facts known to her and
+her family, this would seem to
+be correct.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't have no old missus,
+'cause he was a bachelor. He had a big plantation. I don't know how <a name='TC_9'></a><span class="corr" title="bit">big</span>
+but dey somethin' like twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies
+had plenty in dem. My ma was Becky Brim and pa, he name Louis Brim. She
+come from Old Virginny. Dey work in de field. I had two sister name Cass
+and Donnie and a brudder name Washington. He went off to de war. When it
+break out dey come and take him off to work in de army. He lost in dat war.
+He didn't come back. Nobody ever know what happen to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Some de houses log house and some plank, but dey all good. Dey
+well built and had brick chimneys. Dey houses what de wind didn't blow in.
+Us had beds, too, not dem built in de wall. Us sho' treat good in slavery
+times, yes, suh. Old massa give us plenty clothes to keep us good and
+warm. He sho' did.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa, he wasn't marry and eat de same things de slaves eat.
+He didn't work dem in de heat of de day. 'Bout eleven o'clock, when dat
+sun git hot, he call dem out de field. He give dem till it git kind of
+cool befo' he make dem go back in de field. He didn't have no overseer.
+He seed 'bout de plantation hisself. He raise cotton and corn and sweet
+'taters and peas and cane, didn't fool with rice. He didn't go in for
+oats, neither.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When Sunday come Old Massa ask who want to go to church. Dem what wants
+could ride hoss-back or walk. Us go to de white folks church. Dey sot in front
+and us sot in back. Us had prayer meetin', too, reg'lar every week. One old
+cullud man a sort of preacher. He de leader in 'ligion.</p>
+
+<p>"When de slaves go to work he give dem de task. Dat so much work, so
+many rows cotton to chop or corn to hoe. When dey git through dey can do what
+dey want. He task dem on Monday. Some dem git through Thursday night. Den
+dey can hire out to somebody and git pay for it.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Massa even git de preacher for marryin' de slaves. And when a slave
+die, he git de preacher and have Bible readin' and prayin'. Mostest de massas
+didn't do dat-a-way.</p>
+
+<p>"I as big in war time as I is now. I used to do anything in de field what
+de men done. I plow and pull fodder and pick cotton. But de hardes' work I
+ever done am since I free. Old Massa, he didn't work us hard, noway.</p>
+
+<p>"He allus give us de pass, so dem patterrollers not cotch us. Dey 'bout
+six men on hoss-back, ridin' de roads to cotch niggers what out without de pass.
+Iffen dey cotch him it am de whippin'. But de niggers on us place was good and
+civ'lized folks. Dey didn't have no fuss. Old Massa allus let dem have de garden
+and dey can raise things to eat and sell. Sometime dey have some pig and chickens.</p>
+
+<p>"I been marry his' one time and he been dead 'bout forty-one years now. I stay
+with Old Massa long time after freedom. In 1913 I come live with my youngest girl
+here in Beaumont. You see, I can't 'member so much. I has lived so long my
+'memberance ain't so good now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420248" id="nr420248"></a>420248</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/149sylvesterbrooks.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Sylvester Brooks" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Sylvester Brooks</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>SYLVESTER BROOKS, 87, was born
+in Green County, Alabama, a slave
+of Josiah Collier. The old Negro's
+memory is poor, but he managed to
+recall a few incidents of slave
+days. He lives in Mart, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's born 'bout de year 1850, near de Tom Bigbee river in Alabama, on
+a plantation own by Marse Josiah Collier. My folks was Henderson and Martha
+Brooks and I's de only child den.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Collier owned seventy fam'lies of slaves and dey all lived in
+dey quarters 'bout a mile from de big house. When freedom come Marse Collier
+sent for all de slaves and lines us up in a row, two deep, and helt up he
+hands and say, 'Boys, you is free as I is. All of you what wants to can go,
+and all of you what wants to can work for me on wages dis year. Next year
+I'll give you a crop or work for wages.' Dey all stays but two, and one of
+dem two my daddy, and he lef' mammy and six chillen and never come back.</p>
+
+<p>"Us stays on till Marse Collier and Missus both dies, and den stays
+with he oldes' gal, and didn't go 'way till we's growed and has fam'lies of
+our own.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members best de Fourth of July. De white folks have lots to eat
+for dem and us and we plays games and goes swimmin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Next thing I 'members is de patterrollers, 'cause dey whip me every time
+dey cotches me without my pass. Dat de way dey make us stay home at night,
+and it made good niggers out of us, 'cause we couldn't chase round and git in
+no meanness.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marse often told me 'bout de stars fallin'. It was 'long 'bout sundown
+and growed dark all a sudden and de chickens goes to roost. Den some stars with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>
+long tails 'gins to shoot, den it look like all de stars had come out of Heaven,
+and did dey fall! De stars not all what fell. De white folks and de niggers
+fell on dere knees, prayin' to Gawd to save dem iffen de world comin' to a end,
+and de women folks all run down in de cellar and stayed till mornin'. Old Marse
+say it was in 1833, and he say dem stars fall awhile and quit awhile, like de
+showers when it rains.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout a year after freedom Old Marse give us a piece of land for a church
+and dis was de school, too. De preacher's name was Christmas Crawford, and dat
+de reason I 'members it, it so funny to us. De nigger teacher named Nimron.
+De niggers has de blueback spellers and larns 'rithmetic, too.</p>
+
+<p>"On Thanksgivin' Day de niggers goes round to de white folks houses and
+gives a ser'nade, like dis:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'De old bee make de honeycomb,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">De young bee make de honey&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">De nigger make de cotton and corn,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And de white folks git de money.</span><br />
+<br />
+"'De raccoon he a curious man,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He never works till dark;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nothin' ever 'sturbs he mind,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till he hear old Towser bark.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Den de white folks asks us in and help ourselves to de cake or wine
+or whatever dey has, and we does dis on Christmas, too.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a song we'd sing when we's thinkin' of comin' to Texas:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'We'll put for de South, for seven-up and loo,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chime in, niggers, won't you come 'long, too?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No use talkin' when de nigger wants to go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where de corn top blossoms and canebrakes grow.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come 'long, Cuba, and dance de polka juba,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Way down South, where de corn tops grow.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to be in old Alabama to die, but Old Marse and Missus gone, and
+it ain't no use goin' dere no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420014" id="nr420014"></a>420014</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/151donavillebrousard.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Donaville Broussard" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Donaville Broussard</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>DONAVILLE BROUSSARD, a polished
+gentleman of his race, was the son
+of a mulatto slave of Emilier Caramouche.
+He was born in 1850, but
+appears vigorous. Light skinned,
+with blue eyes and a genial expression,
+he gave the story of his life
+in the French patois spoken by Louisiana
+French Negroes, which has been
+translated into English.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My mama was daughter of one of the Carmouche boys. One of
+M'sieur Francois' sons. She call herself Armance Carmouche. She
+was house servant for the family and I worked around the house. I
+remember my Madame brought me the little basket and it had a strap
+on it. I put the strap over the shoulder and went round with the
+sharp stick and picked up the leaves on the ground with the stick.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a great house with trees and flowers. Madame liked
+all clean and pretty. I never worked hard. The ladies and my mama,
+too, petted me as if I was the white child.</p>
+
+<p>"M'sieur had a widow sister. She made us learn the prayers.
+We were glad to go where she was for she always had something good
+in her bag for us. I never saw the baptizing. In those days all
+the slaves had the religion of the master and the Catholics didn't
+have no baptizing. They didn't have to half-drown when they got
+their religion. The church was 15 or 20 miles off. The priest came
+and held Mass for the white folks sometimes.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember one wedding. My aunt got married. M'sieur
+Caramouche killed a big pig. The white folks ate in the house. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>
+slaves sat under the trees and ate in the yard. At four o'clock the
+justice of the peace came. He was the friend of M'sieur Caramouche.
+He made my aunt and the man hold hands and jump over the broom handle.
+When the priest came he made M'sieur sign some papers.</p>
+
+<p>"A slave always had to ask M'sieur to marry. He always let
+the women slaves marry who they wanted. He didn't loose by that. He was
+so good the men would come to his plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"We all wore the long chemise. Made out of heavy cloth. They
+made the cloth on the place and the women sewed it up. We didn't wear
+the shoes. We didn't like them when we had them.</p>
+
+<p>"Each slave could have the little garden. They raised vegetables
+and had a couple of beehives for the honey.</p>
+
+<p>"When the Yankees came they told us we could be free, but I
+don't know of any slaves that left. Old M'sieur died of the fever in
+the second year of the war. His wife died before he did. No children.
+They sold us, the house and everything. M'sieur Cyprien Arceneaux of
+Lafayette bought me and Madame Arvillien Bernard of St. Pierre bought
+the mama. They used to call it St. Pierre. They call it Carenero now.
+When war was finished I left M'sieur Arceneaux and lived with mama.</p>
+
+<p>"A year and a half after that the mama married a black man
+and us three farmed the little farm. My steppapa didn't like me. I was
+light. He and me couldn't get along. So when I had 20 years I left
+there and hired myself out. I saved till I bought a little piece of
+land for myself. Then I married and raised the family. Me and my wife
+and the children farmed that place up to ten years ago and then she died.
+My son farms the place now and I came to Beaumont. I live with my girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I remember me in time of war we danced. Round dances. We sang
+and danced La Boulangere in time of war. De song go:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'La Boulangere ait ta victoire<br />
+Et nous, qui sont en guerre,<br />
+Voici le jour que je dois partir.<br />
+<br />
+"'Mon cher ami, tu pars,<br />
+Tu me laisses un enfant dans les bras<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">et prend tes armes.</span><br />
+Et moi, je vais dans le moment<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">verser des larmes.</span><br />
+<br />
+"'Quand je serai en le guerre, [<i>Handwritten Note</i>: � la guerre?]<br />
+Tu serais de garnison,<br />
+Et tu m'oublirais moi,<br />
+Qui serai en les haillons.<br />
+<br />
+"'J'entends le tombour qui m'appelle<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">A les points de jour.</span><br />
+Mon cher Armande, si tu m'aimes<br />
+Tu penserais � moi, quand tu serais,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Dans tes plaisir.</span><br />
+Moi&mdash;que serai au bout du fusil!'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I got one real scare. I was with M'sieur Arceneaux in Lafayette.
+There was the battle. Lots of fighting. Lots of killing. The Yankees came
+right inside the house. I stayed hid.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know whether it's been better since the war. At all times
+one has his miseries. We managed to get along on the farm. But now I have
+nothing. Oh, I don't mean slavery was better than to be free. I mean times
+were better.</p>
+
+<p>"The reason I'm so light is, my mama was half-white. My papa was
+Neville Broussard and he was all white.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420233" id="nr420233"></a>420233</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/154fanniebrown.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Fannie Brown" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Fannie Brown</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>FANNIE BROWN, aged Negro of
+Waco, Texas, does not know her age.
+She was born near Richmond, Virginia,
+a slave of the Koonce family. They
+sold her to Mrs. Margaret Taylor,
+of Belton, Texas, when Fannie was
+only five years old, and she never
+saw her mother again.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was borned near Richmond, over in Virginy, but Massa Koonce
+sold me. When I was five year old he brung me to Belton and sold me to
+Missy Margaret Taylor, and she kep' me till she died. I was growed den
+and sold to Massa Jim Fletcher and dere I stayed till I was freed.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere no spring near Massa Fletcher's place and us have to git
+water out de well, what dey call de sweep well. Dey cut down a young
+saplin' and weight it on one end with rocks and tie de bucket on a rope
+on de other end and brace de pole over de well.</p>
+
+<p>"While de big house bein' built dey slep' in a big wagon and
+cook over a fireplace make out of rock what us niggers pick up in de
+woods. Us cook lots of good eatin' out on dat fireplace, dem wild
+turkeys and wild meat sho' tasted good.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa trades ten yards of red calico and two hatchets to
+de Indians for some skins and take de skins to Austin and traded dem
+fer de spinnin' wheel and loom, and hauls dem to Belton in de ox carts.</p>
+
+<p>"My missy larnt me to spin and weave and did dis child git many
+a whuppin' 'fore I could do it good. Den she larnt me to cook and start
+me cookin' two or three days 'fore company come. Dat when us have de
+good old pound cake. De li'l chillen stand round when I bake, so as to
+git to lick de spoons and pans, and how dey pop dere lips when dey
+lickin' dat good dough!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Massa have garden seed he brung to Texas, but he didn't think it
+would grow, so he kep' it several months, but den he plants it and up it come,
+jus' like in de old states. Us used dem tomatoes for flowers, 'cause us
+thunk dem pretty red things would kill us or put de spell on us. But de
+white folks et dem and us larn to.</p>
+
+<p>"I was growed and have chillen 'fore de freedom war. I never did
+have no special husban' 'fore de war. I marries after de war.</p>
+
+<p>"My, how dem niggers could play de fiddle back in de good old
+days. On de moonlight nights, us dance by de light of de moon under a big
+oak tree, till most time to go to work next mornin'.</p>
+
+<p>"De fus' barb wire us ever seen, us scairt of it. Us thunk
+lightnin' be sho' to strike it. It sho' keep de stock in, though.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed men ridin' hosses with dead men tied 'cross dey hoss,
+endurin' de freedom war. But I can't tell much 'bout dat war, 'cause
+I couldn't read and I never git any place 'cept home at my work. I love
+dem days better dan I do dese times now, but I'm too old to 'member much.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420086" id="nr420086"></a>420086</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/156fredbrown.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Fred Brown" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Fred Brown</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>FRED BROWN, 84, 1414 Jones
+St., Fort Worth, Texas, was
+born a slave to Mr. John
+Brown, who owned a plantation
+along the Mississippi River,
+in Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana.
+Fred was eight years old
+when the Civil War started.
+During the War, he and a number
+of other slaves were taken to
+Kaufman Co., Texas, as refugees,
+by Henry Bidder, an overseer.
+He worked five years as a laborer
+after he was freed, then
+worked as a cook until 1933.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Sho', I has time to talk to you 'bout my life, 'cause
+I can't work any more and I has nothin' but time. It am de rhumatis'
+in de leg, it ketch me dat way, from de hip to de knee,&mdash;zip&mdash;dat
+pain goes!</p>
+
+<p>"I's bo'n in ole Louisiana, in Baton Rouge Parish, on de
+16th of November, in 1853. I knows, 'cause massa give dis nigger a
+statement. You see, dey don' larn de niggers to read in dem days,
+nor figger, but I can read figgers. See dem on dat car? Dat am 713.
+Dat am bad figgers, I never has any truck with sich numbers as de 7
+or de 13.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa have quite pert a plantation in Louisiana, dis side
+de Mississippi River. De slaves him own am from 40 to 50 sometimes.
+In our family am pappy, mammy and three brudders and one sister, Julia,
+and six cousins. Dat am 13 and dat's why massa had so much trouble
+with niggers runnin' 'way!</p>
+
+<p>"Everyone have dere certain wo'k and duties for to do. Mammy
+am de family cook and she he'p at de loom, makin' de cloth. My daddy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+am de blacksmith and shoemaker and de tanner. I 'spains how he do tannin.'
+He puts de hides in de water with black-oak bark and purty soon de hair come
+off and den he rolls and poun's de hides for to make dem soft.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's 'bout 8 years old, or sich, dey starts me to he'pin' in
+de yard and as I grows older I he'ps in de fields. Massa, him raises cane
+and co'n mostly, no cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"De buildings on de place am de resident of de massa and de quarters
+for de niggers. Dey am built from logs and de quarters has no floors
+and no windows, jus' square holes whar de windows ought to be. Dey have
+bunks for sleepin' and a table and benches, and cooks in de fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>"We allus have plenty for to eat, plenty co'nmeal, 'lasses and
+heavy, brown sugar. We gits flour bread once de week, but lots of butter
+and milk. For de coffee, we roasts meal bran and for de tea, de sassafras.
+Den we has veg'tables and fruit dat am raised on de place. De meat mostly
+am de wil' game, deer and de turkey, but sometimes hawg meat.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa have overseer and overlooker. De overseer am in charge of
+wo'k and de overlooker am in charge of de cullud women. De overseer give
+all de whippin's. Sometimes when de nigger gits late, 'stead of comin'
+home and takin' de whippin' him goes to de caves of de river and stays
+and jus' comes in night time for food. When dey do dat, de dawgs is put
+after dem and den it am de fight 'tween de nigger and de dawg. Jus' once
+a nigger kills de dawg with de knife, dat was close to freedom and it come
+'fore dey ketches him. When dey whips for runnin' off, de nigger am tied
+down over a barrel and whipped ha'd, till dey draws blood, sometimes.</p>
+
+<p>"Dem fool niggers what sneak off without de pass, have two things
+for to watch, one is not to be ketched by de overseer and de other am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
+de patter-rollers. De nigger sho' am skeert of de patters. One time my
+pappy and my mammy goes out without de pass and de patters takes after dem.
+I'se home, 'cause I's too young to be pesterin' roun'. I sees dem comin,'
+and you couldn' catched dem with a jackrabbit. One time anoudder nigger am
+runnin' from de patters and hides under de house. Dey fin' him and make him
+come out. You's seen de dawg quaver when him's col'? Well, dat nigger
+have de quaverment jus' like dat. De patters hits him five or six licks
+and lets him go. Dat nigger have lots of power&mdash;him gits to de quarters
+ahead of his shadow.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I tell 'bout some good times. We is 'lowed to have parties
+and de dance and we has for music, sich as de banjo and de jew's harp and
+a 'cordian. Dey dance de promenade and de jeg. Sometimes day have de
+jiggin' contest and two niggers puts a glass of water on dere heads and
+den see who can dance de longes' without spillin' any water. Den we has
+log-rollin'. Dere was two teams, 'bout three to de team, and dey see
+which can roll de log de fastes'. Den sometimes a couple am 'lowed to
+git married and dere am extry fixed for supper. De couple steps over de
+broom laid en de floor, dey's married den.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes de overlooker don' let dem git married. I 'splains
+it dis way. He am used for to father de chillun. Him picks de portly,
+and de healthy women dat am to rear de portly chillen. De overlooker,
+he am portly man. Dem dat him picks he overlooks, and not 'low dem to
+marry or to go round with other nigger men. If dey do, its whippin' sho.'
+De massa raises some fine, portly chillen, and dey sel' some, after dey's
+half-grown, for $500 and sometimes more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"De war didn' make no diff'runce, dat I notices, 'cept massa and
+one overseer jines de army. Massa come back, but de overseer am captured
+by de Yankees, so massa says, and we never hears 'bout him after dat. De
+soldiers passes by lots of times, both de 'federates and de 'blue bellies',
+but we's never bothered with dem. De fightin' was not close enough to
+make trouble. Jus' 'fore freedom come, de new overseer am 'structed to
+take us to Texas and takes us to Kaufman County and we is refugees dere.
+De Yankee mans tells us we am free and can do sich as we pleases. Dat lef'
+us in charge of no one and we'uns, jus' like cattle, wen' wanderin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Pappy, him goes back to Lousiana to massa's place. Dat am de las'
+we hears from him. Mammy and I goes to Henderson and I works at dis and
+dat and cares for my mammy ten years, till she dies. Den I gits jobs as
+cook in Dallas and Houston and lots of other places.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits married in 1901 to Ellen Tilles and I cooks till 'bout four
+years ago, till I gits de rhumatis'. Dat's all I can tell you 'bout de
+ole days.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420096" id="nr420096"></a>420096</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/160jamesbrown.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="James Brown" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">James Brown</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JAMES BROWN, 84, blind for the
+last 12 years and now living
+alone in a shack at 408 W. Belknap,
+Fort Worth, Texas, was born
+a slave of Mr. Berney in Bell Co.,
+Texas, in 1853. While still an
+infant, he and his mother were
+sold to Mr. John Blair, who farmed
+four miles south of Waco, Texas.
+JAMES has no known living relatives
+and a pension of $14.00 a
+month is his sole support.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My fust Marster was named Marster Berney. I'se don'
+'member hims fust name nor nothin' 'bout him. I'se don' know
+nothin' 'bout my pappy, but Marster Blair told me hims name
+was John Brown.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Blair have hims farm four miles south of Waco.
+We'uns lived in de cabins and have de fiddle and de banjoes.
+We'uns sing and have music on Sundays. Marster never whups
+we'uns and him was allus good to us. Him gives us plenty to
+eat, and meat, too. Hims keeps 'bout 20 hawgs dere all de time.
+De women makes de clothes and we'uns have all we need.</p>
+
+<p>"De fust work I does is drivin' de Marster to town.
+Marster have fine hosses. Marster have hims office in Waco and
+we drive dere every day. I'se stays all day ready to drive him
+home. Mos' every day hims give me five cents or maybe de dime.
+Hims was a big law man and went to de legislature down in Austin.
+His picture am in Austin, 'cause I'se down dere years ago and seen
+his picture in a case wid Gov'ner Ross' picture.</p>
+
+<p>"Anudder thing dat Marster does powe'ful good am trade<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+de niggers. He buys and sells 'em all de time. You see, dere was
+traders dat traveled from place to place dem days and dey takes sometimes
+as much as 100 niggers for to trade. Dere was sheds outside of
+town, whar dey keeps de niggers when dey comes to town.</p>
+
+<p>"De Marster and de trader talks dis away: 'How you trade?'
+'I'se gives you even trade.' 'No, I'se wants $25.00 for de diff'runce.'
+'I'se gives you $5.00.' Dat's de way dey talks on and on. Maybe dey
+makes de trade and maybe dey don'.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey have auction sometime and Marster allus tend 'em. At
+de auction I'se seen dem sell a family. Maybe one man buy de mammy,
+anudder buy de pappy and anudder buy all de chillens or maybe jus'
+one, like dat. I'se see dem cry like dey at de funeral when dey am
+parted. Dey has to drag 'em away.</p>
+
+<p>"When de auction begin, he says: 'Dis nigger is so and so
+ole, he never 'bused, he soun' as a dollar. Jus' look at de muscle
+and de big shoulders. He's worth a thousan' of any man's money. How
+much am I offered?' Den de biddin' starts. It goes like dis: '$200
+I'se hear, does I'se hear $250, does I hear $300.' Den de nigger
+takes hims clothes&mdash;dey have one extry suit&mdash;and goes wid de man dat
+buys him.</p>
+
+<p>"De day befo' Marster gives we'uns freedom, he says to we'uns,
+'I'se wants all you niggers to come to de front of de house Sunday
+mornin!' We'uns was dere and he was standin' on de gallery, holdin' a
+paper in hims han' and readin'. Dere was tears in hims eyes and some
+drap on de paper. I'se have tears in my eyes, too; mos' of 'em have.
+When hims done readin', hims says: 'You darkies is as free as I'se is.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
+You can go or you can stay. Those dat stay till de crops laid by,
+I'se will give $5.00 a month.'</p>
+
+<p>"Den he takes de little niggers and says, 'De little fellows
+who I'se have sold dere mammies will stay wid me till dey am 21 years
+ole. You little fellows, I'se know you's age and I'se give yous de
+statement.'</p>
+
+<p>"Mos' of de niggers stays wid him, but dey lef' fust one and
+den tudder. I'se stays on wid him for many years and works as coachman.
+When I lef' de Marster, 'twas to work for a farmer for one year,
+den I'se comes to Fort Worth. I'se works in lumberya'd for long time.</p>
+
+<p>"For de las' 12 years I'se been blin'. I'se had hard time after
+dat till de las' year but I'se gits de pension each month, dat am a heap
+of help. Dis nigger am thankful for what de Lawd have blessed me wid.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420104" id="nr420104"></a>420104</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/163josiebrown.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Josie Brown" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Josie Brown</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOSIE BROWN was born about
+1859, in Victoria, Texas.
+She belonged to George Heard.
+Her mother was born free, a
+member of the Choctaw Nation,
+but she was stolen and sold
+as a slave. Josie now lives
+in Woodville, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's bo'n on Christmas day, in Victoria. Got here jus' in
+time for de eggnog! Dat 'bout 1859, 'cause I's six year ole de
+Christmas 'fore freedom. My mudder was a free bo'n Injun woman.
+Jus' like any ole, demmed Choctaw down in de woods. She was stole
+and sol' by a spec'lator's gang. Us move to Tyler when I one mont'
+ole.</p>
+
+<p>"We lib on a big farm and my mudder suckle her thirteen
+chillun and ole mistus seven. Bob, my brudder, he go to Mansfiel'
+and we never hear of him no more. He wen' with young marster,
+Wesley Heard. I 'member de mornin' dey lef', dey had to wait for
+him, 'cause he'd been out seein' his gal.</p>
+
+<p>"De marstar hab a big log house close to de road. De quarters
+was 'cordin' to de family what live dere. De stage line through
+Woodville pass close by. I 'member sittin' on de rail fence to see
+de stage go by. Dat was a fine sight! De stage was big, rough
+carriage and dey was four or five hosses on de line. De bugle blow
+when dey go by, with de dus' behin' dem. Dey was comin' from
+Jasper, in Louisian', and everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>"When us little dey hab to keep us in de house 'cause de
+bald eagle pick up chillen jus' like de hawk pick up chicken. Dey
+was lots of catamoun' and bears and deer in de woods. Us never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+'llowed play 'lone in de woods.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn' do nothin' 'cep' eat and sleep and foller ole mistus
+'round. She giv me good clothes 'cause my mudder was de weaver. De
+clothes jus' cut out straight down and dyed with all kinds of bark.
+I hab to keep de head comb and grease with lard. De lil' white chillun
+play with me but not de udder nigger chilluns much. Us pull de long,
+leaf grass and plait it and us make rag doll and playhouse and grapevine
+swing. Dere's plenty grapes, scudlong, sour blue grape and sweet, white
+grape. Dey make jelly and wine outta dem. Dey squeeze de grapes and put
+de juice in a jimmijohn(demijohn) to fo'men'.</p>
+
+<p>"My mudder name was Keyia. Dat Injun. Daddy's name was Reuben.
+I 'member when I's lil' us goes visit my uncle, Major Scott. He lib in
+Polk County and he wore earring in he ears and beads and everyt'ing. He's
+a Injun. He dead now, many year.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy work in de fiel'. He sow de rice and raise t'baccy. Dey
+have fiel's of it. Dey put it in de crack of de fence to press, den dey
+dry it on de barn roof. Dat was smokin' t'baccy! For de chewin' t'baccy,
+dey soak it in sugar and honey. Us never see snuff den.</p>
+
+<p>"On Sunday us didn' work. We has chu'ch meetin'. But dey has to
+have it in de ya'd, so de white folks could see de kin' of religion 'spounded.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed some bad sight in slavery, but ain' never been 'bused <a name='TC_10'></a><span class="corr" title="nyself">myself</span>.
+I seed chillun too lil' to walk from dey mammies sol' right off de block
+in Woodville. Dey was sol' jus' like calfs. I seed niggers in han' locks.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom dey wuk a whole year and den Major Sangers, he
+finally come and make de white folks tu'n us loose. I stay on for years,
+'till ole mistus die. She larn me to knit and spin and sich like.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"In de early day, us hab to be keerful. Dey say witches ride
+dey hosses on de da'k nights. Us allus put hossshoes over de door
+to keep de witch out. Iffen us go out at night, us go roun' de house
+three time so de witch not come in while us gone.</p>
+
+<p>"I's fifteen year ole when I marry. Giles Paul was from de
+Wes'. He was de fus' husban'. Us hab a real weddin' with a bride
+veil. My weddin' dress hang 'way back on de flo', and shine like
+silver. Dey hab big dance and eat supper.</p>
+
+<p>"My second husban' name' Robert Brown and I's mudder of ten
+chillun. 'Sides dat, I raises six or seven day I pick up on de street
+'cause dey orfums and hab nobody to care for dem. Some dem chillun
+drif' 'bout now and I wouldn' know 'em if I seed 'em!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420211" id="nr420211"></a>420211</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/166zekbrown.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Zek Brown" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Zek Brown</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ZEK BROWN, 80, was born a slave
+of Green Brown, owner of six
+slave families, in Warren County,
+Tennessee. Zek came to Texas in
+1868, with Sam Bragg. Zek now
+lives at 407 W. Bluff St., in
+Fort Worth, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My name am Zek Brown and Massa Green Brown owned me. He have
+a plantation in Tennessee and own all my folks, what was my pappy and mammy
+and two sisters. I never seed any of dem since I ran 'way from there, when
+I's ten years old.</p>
+
+<p>"I sometimes wishes I's back on de plantation. I's took good care
+of dere and massa am awful good. Each fam'ly have dere own cabin and it
+warn't so much for niceness but we lives comfor'ble and has plenty to eat
+and wear. My mammy work de loom, makin' cloth, and us chillen wears linsey
+cloth shirts till dey gives us pants. Massa buy he fam'ly nice clothes but
+dey wears linsey clothes everyday. Same with shoes, dey am made on de
+plantation and de first store shoes I has am after surrender. My mammy
+buys me a pair with brass tips on de toe, and am I dress up den!</p>
+
+<p>"De food am bester dan what I's had since dem days. Dey raises it
+all but de salt and sich. You wouldn't 'lieve how us et den. It am ham
+and bacon, 'cause dey raises all de hawgs. It am cornmeal and some white
+flour and fruit and honey and 'lasses and brown sugar. De 'lasses am black
+as I is and dat am some black. I wishes I was dere and mammy call me, and
+I can smell dat ham fryin' right now.</p>
+
+<p>"Not once does I know of de massa whippin' and him don't talk rough
+even. Jus' so de work am done we does as we pleases, long as us reas'ble.
+Us have parties and dancin' and singin'. De music am de banjo and de fiddle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'member when de war start but I 'member when it stop and
+massa call all us together and tell us we's no more slaves. Him talk lots
+'bout what it mean and how it am diff'rent and we'uns have to make our own
+way and can't 'pend on him like. He say if us stay dere'll be wages or
+we can share crop and everybody stay. My folks stays one year and den moves
+to 'nother he farms. Pappy keep de farm and mammy teach school. Her missie
+done larnt her to read and sich from time she a young'un, so she have eddication
+so good dey puts her to teachin'.</p>
+
+<p>"De way I leaves home am dis. One day mammy teachin' school and
+me and my sister am home, and I 'cides she need de haircut. She want it, too.
+So I gits de shears and goes to work and after I works a while de job don't
+look so good, so I cuts some more and den it look worse and I tries to fix it
+and first thing I knows dere ain't no hair left to cut. When mammy come home
+she pays me for de work with de rawhide whip and dat hurts my feelin's so bad
+I 'cides to git even by runnin' 'way a few days. It am 'bout sundown and I
+starts to go and comes to Massa Sam Bragg's place. I's tired den and not so
+strong 'bout de idea and 'cides to rest. I walks into he yard and dere am
+a covered wagon standin' and loaded with lots of stuff and de front end open.
+I finds de soft place in de back and goes to sleep, and when I wakes up it am
+jus' gittin' daylight and dat wagon am a-movin'.'</p>
+
+<p>"I don't say nothin'. I's skeert and waits for dat wagon to stop,
+so's I can crawl out. I jus' sits and sits and when it stop I crawls out and
+Massa Bragg say, 'Good gosh, look what am crawlin' out de wagon! He look at
+me a while and den he say, 'You's too far from home for me to take you back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>
+and you'll git lost if you tries to walk home. I guesses I'll have to take you
+with me.' I thinks him am goin' some place and comin' back, but it am to Texas
+him come and stop at Birdville. Dat am how dis nigger come to Texas.</p>
+
+<p>"I's often wish my mammy done whip me so hard I couldn't walk off de
+place, 'cause from den on I has mighty hard times. I stays with Massa Bragg
+four years and then I hunts for a job where I can git some wages. I gits it
+with Massa Joe Henderson, workin' on he farm and I's been round these parts
+ever since and farmed most my life.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits into a picklement once years ago. I's 'rested on de street.
+I's not done a thing, jus' walkin' 'long de street with 'nother fellow and dey
+claim he stole somethin'. I didn't know nothin' 'bout since. Did dey turn me
+a-loose? Dey turn me loose after six months on de chain gang. I works on de
+road three months with a ball and chain on de legs. After dat trouble, I sho'
+picks my comp'ny.</p>
+
+<p>"I marries onct, 'bout forty years ago, and after four years she drops
+dead with de heart mis'ry. Us have no chillen so I's alone in de world. It am
+all right long as I could work, but five years ago dis right arm gits to shakin'
+so bad I can' work no more. For a year now dey pays me $9.00 pension. It am
+hard to live on dat for a whole month, but I's glad to git it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr4210129" id="nr4210129"></a>4210129</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>MADISON BRUIN, 92, spent
+his early days as a slave on
+the Curtis farm in the blue
+grass region of Kentucky, where
+he had some experience with
+some of the fine horses for
+which the state is famous.
+Here, too, he had certain contacts
+with soldiers of John
+Morgan, of Confederate fame.
+His eyes are keen and his voice
+mellow and low. His years have
+not taken a heavy toll of his
+vitality.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's a old Kentucky man. I's born in Fayette County, 'bout
+five miles from Lexington, right where dere lots of fine hosses. My old
+massa was name Jack Curtis and de old missus was Miss Addie. My mother
+name Mary and she die in 1863 and never did see freedom. I don't 'member
+my daddy a-tall.</p>
+
+<p>"De place was jis' a farm, 'cause dey didn't know nothin'
+'bout plantations up dere in Kentucky. Dey raise corn and wheat and garlic
+and fast hosses. Dey used to have big hoss races and dey had big tracks
+and I's stood in de middle of dat big track in Lexington and watch dem
+ex'cise de hosses. Sometimes I got to help dem groom some dem grand hosses
+and dat was de big day for me. I don't 'member dem hosses names, no, suh,
+but I knowed one big bay hoss what won de race nearly every time.</p>
+
+<p>"I had two sisters name Jeanette and Fanny and a brother, Henry,
+and after my daddy die, my mother marries a man name Paris and I had one
+half-brother call Alfred Paris.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa was good to us and give us plenty food. He never
+beat us hard. He had a son what jis' one month older'n me and we run 'round
+and play lots. Old massa, he whip me and he own son jis' de same when we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>
+bad. He didn't whip us no more'n he ought to, though. Dey was good massas
+and some mean ones, and some worthless cullud folks, too.</p>
+
+<p>"Durin' de war de cholera broke out 'mongst de people and everybody
+scairt dey gwine cotch it. Dey say it start with de hurtin' in de stomach
+and every time us hurt in de stomach, missus make us come quick to de big
+house. Dat suit us jis' right and when dey sends Will and me to hoe or do
+somethin' us didn't want to do, pretty soon I say, 'Willie, I think my
+stomach 'ginnin to hurt. I think dis mis'ry a sign I gittin' de cholera.'
+Den him say, 'Us better go to de big house like ma say,' and with dat, us
+quit workin'. Us git out lots of work dat way, but us ain't ever took de
+cholera yit.</p>
+
+<p>"Durin' de war John Morgan's men come and took all de hosses. Dey
+left two and Willie and me took dem to hide in de plum thicket, but us jis'
+git out de gate when de sojers come 'gain and dey head us off and take de
+last two hosses.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother she wore de Yankee flag under her dress like a petticoat
+when de 'federates come raidin'. Other times she wore it top de dress.
+When dey hears de 'federates comin' de white folks makes us bury all de
+gold and de silver spoons out in de garden. Old massa, he in de Yankee
+army, 'cause dey 'script him, but he sons, John and Joe, dey volunteers.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa he never sold none of he slaves. I used to hear him
+and missus fussin' 'bout de niggers, 'cause some 'long to her and some to
+him and dey have de time keepin' dem straighten' out.</p>
+
+<p>Us boys have good time playin'. Us draw de line and some git on
+one side and some de other. Den one sing out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+"'Chickama, Chickama, craney crow,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Went to de well to wash my toe;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When I git back my chicken was gone,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">What time, old witch?'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Den somebody holler out, 'One o'clock' or 'Two o'clock' or any time,
+and dem on one side try to cotch dem on de other side.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's young I didn't mind plowin', but I didn't like to ride at
+fust, but dey make me larn anyhow. Course, dat white boy and me, us like
+most anything what not too much work. Us go down to de watermelon patch
+and plug dem melons, den us run hide in de woods and eat watermelon. Course,
+dey lots of time dey 'low us to play jis' by ourselves. Us play one game
+where us choose sides and den sing:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Can, can, candio,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Old man Dandio,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How many men you got?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More'n you're able to cotch.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Endurin' de war us git whip many a time for playin' with shells
+what us find in de woods. Us heered de cannons shootin' in Lexington and
+lots of dem shells drap in de woods.</p>
+
+<p>"What did I think when I seed all dem sojers? I wants to be one,
+too. I didn't care what side, I jis' wants a gun and a hoss and be a sojer.
+John Morgan, he used to own de hemp factory in Lexington. When young massa
+jine Woolford's 11th Kentucky Cavalry, dey come to de place and halt befo' de
+big house in de turnpike. Dey have shotguns and blind bridles on dere hosses,
+not open bridle like on de race hosses. Dey jis' in reg'lar clothes but next
+time dey come through dey in blue uniforms. All my white folks come back
+from de war and didn't git kilt. Nobody ever telt me I's free. I's happy
+dere and never left dem till 1872. All de others gone befo' dat, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>
+gits all I wants and I didn't need no money. I didn't know what paper money
+was and one time massa's son give me a paper dime to git some squab and I
+didn't know what money was and I burned it up.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey's jis' one thing I like to do most and dat's eat. Dey allus
+had plenty of everything and dey had a big, wooden tray, or trough and dey
+put potlicker and cornbread in dat trough and set it under de big locust
+tree and all us li'l niggers jis' set 'round and eat and eat. Jis' eat all
+us wants. Den when us git full us fall over and go to sleep. Us jis' git
+fat and lazy. When us see dat bowl comin', dat bowl call us jis' like hawgs
+runnin' to de trough.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey was great on gingerbread and us go for dat. Dey couldn't
+leave it in de kitchen or de pantry so old missus git a big tin box and hide
+de gingerbread under her bed and kept de switch on us to keep us 'way from it.
+But sometime us sneak up in de bedroom and git some, even den.</p>
+
+<p>"When I 'bout 17 I left Kentucky and goes to Indiana and white folks
+sends me to school to larn readin' and writin', but I got tired of dat and
+run off and jine de army. Dat in 1876 and dey sends me to Arizona. After
+dat I's at Fort Sill in what used to be Indian Territory and den at Fort
+Clark and Fort Davis, dat in Garfield's 'ministration, den in Fort Quitman
+on de Rio Grande. I's in skirmishes with de Indians on Devil's River and
+in de Brazos Canyon, and in de Rattlesnake Range and in de Guadalupe Mountains.
+De troops was de Eighth Cavalry and de Tenth Infantry. De white and de cullud
+folks was altogether and I have three hosses in de cavalry. De fust one plays
+out, de next one shot down on campaign and one was condemn. On dat campaign
+us have de White Mountain 'paches with us for scouts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When I git discharge' from de Army I come to Texas and work on
+de S.P. Railroad and I been in Texas ever since, and when I's in Dallas
+I got 'flicted and got de pension 'cause I been in de army. I ain't done
+much work in ten year.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits married in San Antonio on December 14, 1882 and I marries
+Dolly Gross and dat her right dere. Us have de nice weddin', plenty to eat
+and drink. Us have only one chile, a gal, and she dead, but us 'dopt sev'ral
+chillen.</p>
+
+<p>"Us come to Beaumont in 1903 and I works 'round Spindletop and
+I works for de gas people and de waterworks people. I's been a carpenter
+and done lots of common work wherever I could find it.</p>
+
+<p>"It's been long time since slavery and I's old, but me and my
+old lady's in good health and us manage to git 'long fairly well. Dat's
+'bout all I can 'member 'bout de old times.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420236" id="nr420236"></a>420236</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/174marthaspencebunton.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Martha Spence Bunton" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Martha Spence Bunton</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>MARTHA SPENCE BUNTON, 81, was
+born a slave, Jan. 1, 1856, on
+the John Bell plantation, in
+Murphfreesboro, Tennessee. Mr.
+Bell sold Martha, her mother
+and four sisters to Joseph
+Spence, who brought them to
+Texas. Martha married Andy
+Bunton in 1880, and they had
+nine children. Martha now
+lives with her sister, Susan,
+on twelve acres of land which
+their father bought for $25.00
+an acre. The farm is picturesquely
+located on a thickly
+wooded hill about six miles
+east of Austin, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born on New Year's Day. Yes, suh, in 1856, on Massa
+Bell's plantation over in Tennessee. De name of de town was Murphreesboro,
+and my mammy and my four sisters and me all 'longed to Massa John Bell,
+but he done sold us to Massa Joseph Spence, and dat how I come by my name.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members how Massa Spence brung us to Texas in wagons, and the
+way we knowed when we hit Texas am 'cause massa 'gin to talk 'bout a
+norther. When dat norther done strike, all de weeds and leaves jus'
+starts rollin'. Us poor, ig'rant niggers thunk at first dey was rabbits,
+'cause we'd never seed a rabbit den. Massa Spence rid his hoss and Missie
+Spence come 'long in de richer way, in a coach. De chillen walked mornin's
+and de older folks walked afternoons.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Spence come to Montopolis, right nigh to Austin, and settled
+down. I helped carry dinner pails to de field workers, and dey was full of
+meat and cabbage and biscuit. Pappy wasn't dere then, 'cause he was own
+by Massa Burrows, over in Tennessee. But when his massa died, my massa
+bought pappy and he come out to Texas. Befo' I's a sizeable child, mammy
+took sick with diphtheria and died and pappy had to be mammy and pappy to us.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+Pappy was a big-bodied man and on Sunday mornin' he'd git out of bed and make
+a big fire and say, 'Jiminy cripes! You chillen stay in you beds and I'll make
+de biscuits.' He would, too. I laughs when I thinks 'bout dem big, rye biscuits,
+what was so big we called dem 'Nigger heels.' Dey sho' was big biscuits,
+but dey was good. We never did git no butter, though, and sometimes we'd ask
+the white chillen to give us a piece of biscuit with butter on it. We got plenty
+other eats&mdash;sliced meat and roastin' ears and sweet milk.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom pappy sent us to school to de white teacher, and dat's why
+I can read and write. I went to de sixth grade and quit. Pappy was drinkin' a
+lot then. He'd take alcohol and mix it with 'lasses and water. But he was good
+to us. Sometimes a Texas norther come up and we'd be on the way home and we'd
+see something comin' what look like a elephant and it was pappy, with a bundle
+of coats.</p>
+
+<p>"I was twenty-four years old when I married Andy Bunton and he jes' rented
+farms here and yonder. We had a big weddin' and pork and turkey and cake. Aunt
+Lucy Hubbard, what weighed three hundred pounds, done de cookin' dat day. We had
+such a good time nobody knowed when one de guests stole a whole turkey.</p>
+
+<p>"I was mother of nine chillen and three of dem is livin' now. Andy made a
+purty good livin till he had a paral'sis stroke. Poor old feller! In de end, I
+took care of him and had to work like I was young again. I cut wood and carried
+water and washed and cooked. I had to feed him.</p>
+
+<p>"I owns my place here. It am twelve acres and pappy bought it long ago for
+$25.00 de acre. My sister lives here too, and my son, Howard, comes home sometimes,
+but he's got eight houn' dogs he can't feed. I sho' can't feed dem on dat $11.00
+pension what I gits.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420080" id="nr420080"></a>420080</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/176ellenbutler.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Ellen Butler" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Ellen Butler</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ELLEN BUTLER was born a
+slave to Richmond Butler,
+near Whiska Chitto, in the
+northern part of Calcasieu
+Parish (now a part of Beauregard
+Parish), in Louisiana.
+Ellen is about 78 years old.
+She now lives in Beaumont,
+Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My old massa was name Richmond Butler and he used to have a
+big plantation over on Whiska Chitto, in Louisiana, and that's where
+I was born. They used to call the place Bagdad. I was his slave till
+I six year old and then freedom come.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'member my daddy, but my mammy was name Dicey Ann Butler.
+I have seven sister and three brudder, and they was Anderson and
+Charlie and Willie, and the girls was Laura and Rosa and Rachel and Fannie
+and Adeline and Sottie and Nora.</p>
+
+<p>"Us used to live in a li'l log house with one room. The floor was
+dirt and the house was make jus' like they used to make 'tater house.
+They was a little window in the back. When I was a baby they wrop me
+up in cotton and put me in a coffee pot&mdash;that how li'l I was. But I
+grows to be more sizable.</p>
+
+<p>"The plantation were a good, big place and they have 'bout 200
+head of niggers. When I gets big enough they start me to totin' water
+to the field. I gits the water out the spring and totes it in gourds.
+They cut the gourds so that a strip was left round and cross the top
+and that the handle. They was about a foot 'cross and a foot deep.
+Us used to have one good gourd us kep' lard in and li'l gourds to
+drink out of.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Massa never 'lowed us slaves go to church but they have big
+holes in the fields they gits down in and prays. They done that way
+'cause the white folks didn't want them to pray. They used to pray
+for freedom.</p>
+
+<p>"When the white folks go off they writes on the meal and flour
+with they fingers. That the way they know if us steal meal. Sometime
+they take a stick and write in front of the door so if anybody go out
+they step on that writin' and the massa know. That the way us larn how
+to write.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa didn't give 'em much to eat. When they comes in out
+of the field they goes work for other folks for something to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"They jus' have a old frame with planks to sleep on and no mattress
+or nothin'. In winter they have to keep the fire goin' all night
+to keep from freezin'. They put a old quilt down on the floor for the
+li'l folks. They have a li'l trough us used to eat out of with a li'l
+wooden paddle. Us didn't know nothin' 'bout knives and forks.</p>
+
+<p>"I never did git nothin' much to eat. My sister she de cook and
+sometime when the white folks gone us go up to the big house and she give
+us somethin'. But she make us wash the mouth after us finish eatin', so
+they won't be no crumbs in our mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa used to beat 'em all the time. My brudder tell old massa
+sometime he git hongry and gwine have to come ask de niggers for somethin'
+to eat. He say he never do that, but he did, 'cause after freedom he go
+to West Texas and some niggers with him and he los' everything and, sho'
+'nough, old massa have to go to my brudder and ask him for food and a
+shelter to sleep under. Then he say if he had it to do over, he wouldn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+treat the hands so bad.</p>
+
+<p>"One time my brudder slip off de plantation and they almost
+beat him to death. He told 'em he had to do somethin' to git somethin'
+to eat. They used to put 'em 'cross a log or barrel to beat 'em. My
+mammy had a strop 'bout eight inch wide they used to beat 'em with.</p>
+
+<p>"Most clothes what we git is from the Iles, what was rich
+folks and lives close by. They folks lives in DeRidder, in Louisiana,
+I hears. They treated the slaves like white folks.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas time they give us a meal. I 'member that.
+I don't 'member no other holidays.</p>
+
+<p>"When us git sick us go to the woods and git herbs and
+roots and make tea and medicine. We used to git Blackhaw root and
+cherry bark and dogwood and chinquapin bark, what make good tonic.
+Black snakeroot and swamproot make good medicine, too.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy told us we was free and we starts right off and
+walks to Sugartown, 'bout 8 mile away. I 'member my brudder wades 'cross
+a pool totin' me.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to nuss Dr. Frasier. He used to be the high sheriff
+in DeRidder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420182" id="nr420182"></a>420182</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>HENRY H. BUTTLER, 87, venerable
+graduate of Washburn College, Topeka,
+Kansas, and ex-school teacher, was
+born a slave to Mr. George Sullivan
+on his 300 acre plantation in Farquier
+Co., Virginia. Henry and
+a number of other slaves were transported
+to Arkansas in 1863, and Henry
+escaped and joined the Union Army.
+He now lives at 1308 E. Bessie St.,
+Fort Worth, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My name is Henry H. Buttler and I am past 87 years of age.
+That figure may not be accurate, but you must realize that there were
+no authentic records made of slave births. I estimate my age on the
+work I was doing at the commencement of the Civil War and the fact
+that I was large enough to be accepted as a soldier in the Union Army,
+in the year of 1864.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born on the plantation of George Sullivan, in Farquier Co.,
+Virginia. The plantation was situated in the valley at the base of Bull
+Mountain, and presented a beautiful picture. The plantation consisted
+of about 30 acres, with about 30 slaves, though this number varied and
+sometimes reached 50. Mr. Sullivan owned my mother and her children,
+but my father was owned by Mr. John Rector, whose place was adjacent to
+ours.</p>
+
+<p>"The slave quarters consisted of a group of one-room log cabins,
+with no flooring, and very crude furnishings. There were bunks and
+benches and a table and the fireplace provided the means for cooking
+and heating.</p>
+
+<p>"The food was wholesome and of sufficient quantity. In that period
+about all the food was produced and processed on the plantation, which
+eliminated any reason for failure to provide ample food. The meat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+was home cured and the ham and bacon had a superior flavor.</p>
+
+<p>"On the Sullivan place there existed consideration for human feelings
+but on the Rector place neither the master nor the overseer seemed to understand
+that slaves were human beings. One old slave called Jim, on the Rector
+place, disobeyed some rule and early one morning they ordered him to strip.
+They tied him to the whipping post and from morning until noon, at intervals,
+the lash was applied to his back. I, myself, saw and heard many of the lashes
+and his cries for mercy.</p>
+
+<p>"One morning a number of slaves were ordered to lay a fence row on the
+Rector place. The overseer said, 'This row must be laid to the Branch and
+left in time to roll those logs out in the back woods.' It was sundown when
+we laid the last rail but the overseer put us to rolling logs without any
+supper and it was eleven when we completed the task. Old Pete, the ox driver,
+became so exhausted that he fell asleep without unyoking the oxen. For that,
+he was given 100 lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"The slaves were allowed to marry but were compelled to first obtain
+permission from the master. The main factor involved in securing the master's
+consent was his desire to rear negroes with perfect physiques. On neither
+plantation was there any thought or compassion when a sale or trade was in
+question. I have seen the separation of husband and wife, child and mother,
+and the extreme grief of those involved, and the lash administered to a grieving
+slave for neglecting their work. All this made the marriages a farce.</p>
+
+<p>"In 1863 Mr. Sullivan transported about 40 of us slaves to Arkansas,
+locating us on a farm near Pine Bluff, so we would not be taken by the Federal
+soldiers. The general faithfulness of the slave was noticeable then, as they
+had a chance to desert and go to free states. But I think I was the only one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
+who deserted Mr. Sullivan. I went to Federal Headquarters at Fort Smith,
+Arkansas, and was received into the army. We campaigned in Arkansas and
+nearby territory. The major battle I fought in was that of Pine Bluff,
+which lasted one day and part of one night.</p>
+
+<p>"After I was mustered out of the army, I set out to get an education
+and entered a grade school at Pine Bluff. I worked after school at
+any job I could secure and managed to enter Washburn College, in Topeka,
+Kansas. After I graduated I followed steam engineering for four years,
+but later I went to Fort Worth and spent 22 years in educational work
+among my people. I exerted my best efforts to advance my race.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Lucia Brown in 1880 and we had three children, all of
+whom are dead. There is just my wife and me left of the family, and we
+have a $75.00 per month Union soldier's pension.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420283" id="nr420283"></a>420283</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILLIAM BYRD, 97, was born a
+slave of Sam Byrd, near Madisonville,
+Texas. William
+was with his master during
+the Civil War. The old Negro
+is very feeble, but enjoyed
+talking about old times. He
+lives in Madisonville.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I has a bill of sale what say I's born in 1840, so I knows I's
+ninety-seven years old, and I's owned by Marse Sam Byrd. My mother's
+name was Fannie and I dunno pappy's name, 'cause my mother allus say
+she found me a stray in the woods. I allus 'lieves my master was my
+pappy, but I never did know for sho'.</p>
+
+<p>"Our quarters was log and the bed built with poles stuck in the
+cracks and cowhide stretched over, and we'd gather moss 'bout once a
+month and make it soft. When it was real cold we'd git close together
+and I don't care how cold it got, we'd sleep jes' as warm as these here
+feather beds.</p>
+
+<p>"I split rails and chopped cotton and plowed with a wooden plow and
+druv Marse Byrd lots, 'cause he was a trader, slave trade most the time.
+He was good to us and give us lots to eat. He had a big garden and plenty
+sugar cane, and brown sugar. We'd press the juice out the cane 'tween two
+logs and cook it in the big washpot.</p>
+
+<p>"We had sheepskin clothes in cold weather, with the fur part inside,
+no shoes less'n we wropped our feet in fur hides. But them clothes was
+warmer than these here cotton overalls. They're plumb cold!</p>
+
+<p>Marse Sam was full of life and Missus Josie was real good. They had
+a nice home of that day, made out split logs and four rooms and a hall
+two ways through it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That great iron piece hung jes' outside the door and Marse Sam hit it
+at 3:30 every mornin'. If we didn't muster out he come round with that cat-o-nine-tails
+and let us have it, and we knowed what that bell was for nex' mornin'.
+Sometimes when Marse Sam was gone, we'd have a overseer. He'd let us go swimmin'
+in the creek when the work was done.</p>
+
+<p>"If a nigger was mean Marse Sam give him fifty licks over a log the first
+time and seventy-five licks the second time and 'bout that time he most gen'rally
+had a good nigger. If they was real mean and he couldn't do nothin' with 'em, he
+put them in the jail with a chain on the feets for three days, and fed 'em through
+a crack in the wall.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas Marse Sam had a great big eggnog and kilt a big beef and had
+fireworks, and the nigger, he know Christmas was come. We had plenty to eat and
+eggnog and did 'bout what we pleased that day and New Year's. The white folks
+allus said what we'd do on them days we'd do all year. That's all foolishment,
+but some still believes in it.</p>
+
+<p>"They give a big dance and all night supper when war started. Then Marse
+Sam, he carries me for waterboy and cook and to tend his hosses. He had two,
+and rid one this day and the other nex' day. He was 'fraid one git kilt and
+then he wouldn't be slam a-foot.</p>
+
+<p>"When them big guns went to poppin', I jes' couldn't stand it without gittin'
+in a brush top. Then marse goes and gits shot and I has to be his nuss. But,
+Lawd-a-me, one them Yankee gals, she falls in love with marse whilst he lays
+nearly dead, and she say, 'William, he's mine, so you got to take good care of
+him.' And him with a plumb good wife back home!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When Marse Sam git well, he say he's goin' to 'nother place to fight.
+He was with General Lee when that old war was over and that there Yankee General
+Grant takes General Lee prisoner, and Marse Sam won't leave his general, and he say
+to me, 'William, you got to go home alone.'</p>
+
+<p>"I lights out a-foot to Texas and it's most a year befo' I gits home.
+I travels day and night at first. I buys some things to eat but every time I
+goes by a farmhouse I steals a chicken. Sometimes I sho' gits hongry. When I
+git to the house, Missus Josie faints, 'cause she thunk Marse Sam ain't with me
+and he mus' be dead. I tells her he's in prison and she say she'll give me $2.00
+a month to stay till he gits back. I's plumb crazy 'bout a little gal called
+'Cricket,' 'cause she so pert and full of live, so I stays. We gits us a cabin
+and that's all to our weddin'. We stays a year befo' Marse Sam comes back.</p>
+
+<p>"He was the plumb awfulest sight you ever done seed! His clothes is tore
+offen his body and he ain't shaved in three months and he's mos' starved to death.
+Missus Josie she don't even rec'nize him and wouldn't 'low him in till I tells
+her dat am Marse Sam, all right. He stays sick a whole year.</p>
+
+<p>"I thinks if them Yankees didn't 'tend to fix some way for us pore niggers,
+dey oughtn't turn us a-loose. Iffen de white folks in de South hadn't been jes'
+what they is, us niggers been lots worser off than we was. In slavery time when
+the nigger am sick, his master pay de bills, but when nigger sick now, that's his
+own lookout.</p>
+
+<p>"I never done nothin' but farm and odd jobs. I been married five times, but
+only my las' wife am livin' now. My four boys and two gals is all farmin' right
+here in the county and they helps us out. We gits by somehow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420277" id="nr420277"></a>420277</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>LOUIS CAIN, 88, was born in North
+Carolina, a slave of Samuel Cain.
+After Louis was freed, he came to
+Texas, and has farmed near Madisonville
+over sixty years.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I knows I's birthed in 1849, 'cause I had a bill of sale. It say
+that. My master traded me to Massa Joe Cutt for a hundred acres of land.
+That's in 1861, and I 'members it well. My daddy was Sam Cain, name after
+old Massa Cain, and mammy was Josie Jones, 'cause she owned by 'nother master.
+Mammy was birthed in North Carolina, but daddy allus say he come from Africy.
+He say they didn't work hard over there, 'cause all they et come out the
+jungle, and they had all the wives they wanted. That was the 'ligion over
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"Our quarters was made of logs, in a long shed six rooms long, like
+cowsheds or chicken houses, and one door to each room. The bed was a hole
+dug in a corner and poles around and shucks and straw. We'd sleep warm all
+night long, but it wouldn't do in this country in summertime.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa give us plenty to eat. Our cornbread was what you calls water pone
+bread and cooked in the ashes. We didn't have no stove. Massa was a great
+hunter and allus had venison and game. They was plenty fish, too.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Cain was purty good to his slaves and mean to them if they didn't
+behave. Missy was a good woman. They lived in a two-story rock house with
+plenty trees all 'round.</p>
+
+<p>"We worked long as we could see, from four o'clock in the mornin', and
+them milked twenty cows and fed the work stock. They was fifty acres and
+not 'nough niggers to work it easy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If some niggers was mean they'd git it. Massa tied they hands to they
+feet and tied them to a tree and hit 'bout twenty-five or fifty licks with
+a rawhide belt. Hide and blood flew then. Next mornin' he'd turn them loose
+and they'd have to work all day without nothin' to eat. He had a cabin called
+jail for the nigger women, and chain them in with cornbread and one glass of
+water.</p>
+
+<p>"One nigger run to the woods to be a jungle nigger, but massa cotched him
+with the dogs and took a hot iron and brands him. Then he put a bell on him,
+in a wooden frame what slip over the shoulders and under the arms. He made
+that nigger wear the bell a year and took it off on Christmas for a present to
+him. It sho' did make a good nigger out of him.</p>
+
+<p>"In the summer time they had camp meetin' and baptized in the creek, white
+folks first while the old nigger mammies shouts, and then the niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"On Saturday mornin' us men grated corn for bread the next week and the
+women washed massa's clothes and our'n. On Saturday night we'd have a dance
+all night long, and Sunday the men went to see they wives or sweethearts and
+us young'uns went swimmin' in the creek. Every night but Saturday we had to
+go to bed at nine o'clock. Massa hit the big steel piece and we knowed it
+was time to put out the torches and pile in.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas I'd stand by the gate, to open it for the company, and
+they'd throw nuts and candy to me. That night all the slaves what could
+brung they banjoes and fiddles and played for the white folks to dance all
+night. Them great old days are done gone. Most the men be full that good,
+old eggnog.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"After war come they ain't no more dances and fun, and not much to eat or
+nothin'. Massa git kilt in a big battle and missy took four slaves and brung
+him home and buried him under a big shade tree in the yard. That the saddes'
+time I ever seen, nobody there to do anythin' but missy and neighbor women
+and some real young niggers like me. She was cryin' and all us slaves takin'
+on. It's a wonder we ever did git massa buried. We carried him on our backs
+to the grave.</p>
+
+<p>"After that we had to carry missy to the mountains and hide her, 'cause
+everything, house and sheds and all, was burnt, and all her stock kilt by
+sojers and outlaws. When she come out of hidin' she didn't have a thing, not
+even a bed.</p>
+
+<p>"But she was a brave woman, and said, 'Louis, we'll fix some kind of
+quarters for you.' She went to work to rebuild the place. She said, 'You
+niggers is free, but I need you and I'll pay you $2.00 a month.' She did, too.
+She cut some logs and builded her one room and then we all build us a room
+and that was the best we could do. I 'lieve the Lawd blessed that woman.
+After freedom, that's how I lived the first year, and she paid me every cent
+she promised. I stayed with her three years.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I heared of a railroad job in Texas, and married Josie Sewel in a
+big weddin' and we had a great time. I gits a job on that railroad for fifty
+cents a day and it never lasted more'n a year, so I goes to farmin'.</p>
+
+<p>"We had fourteen chillun, four dead now, and the rest farmin' all over
+Texas. I has more'n a hundred grandchillun. Josie, she done die twenty years
+ago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't know as I 'spected massa's land to be 'vided and give us,
+but they was plenty of land for everybody, and missy allus treated us right.
+Wages was terrible small for a long time after I married and sometimes they
+wouldn't pay us, and we had to beg or steal. I's went a whole two days without
+nothin' to eat. If it hadn't been for them there Klu Klux, sometimes
+the niggers would have went on the warpath for starvin'. But the Klu Kluxers
+wouldn't let 'em roam none, if they tried they stretch them out over a log
+and hit them with rawhide, but never say a word. That was got the niggers&mdash;they
+was so silent, not a sound out of them, and the nigger he can't stand
+that.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits a pension and works when I can and gits by. Some the young
+niggers is purty sorry, they's had so much and don't 'preciate none of it.
+I's glad for what I can git, 'cause I 'members them old times after the
+war when it was worse'n now.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420178" id="nr420178"></a>420178</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JEFF CALHOUN, about 98, was
+born a slave of the Calhoun
+family, in Alton, Alabama.
+After his master died, a son-in-law,
+Jim Robinson, brought
+Jeff and 200 other slaves to
+Austin, Texas. Jeff was 22
+when the Civil War began.
+He stayed with his old master,
+who had moved to Stewart Mills
+Texas, after he was freed, and
+raised 23 children. He says,
+"I 'spect I has near a thous- children, grandchildren and
+great grandchildren." He makes
+his home among them, drifting
+over five states when and as
+he wishes.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My name am Jeff Calhoun and I was born in Alton, in Alabama,
+about 1838, 'cause I's told by my massa. Dat makes me 'bout 98 year
+old now. My father was Henry Robinson and my mammy, she Mary Robinson.
+She was born in Maryland, in Virginia, but didn't know much 'bout her
+folks, 'cause she was sold off young. Dere was four of us brothers
+and ten sisters, but dey all dead now but me.</p>
+
+<p>"We makes our beds out of forked saplings drove in the ground,
+'cause de floors was dirt. We sets de pole in dat ground and it run
+to de top of de cabin and we makes one bed down low and one bed above.
+De big folks sleeps in de low beds and de chillun above, 'cause dey
+can climb.</p>
+
+<p>"My massa had 15 chillun and my mamma suckled every one of
+dem, 'cause his wife was no good to give milk.</p>
+
+<p>"We allus had lots to eat, but for meat we has to go to de
+woods and git deer and turkey and buffalo and some bear. I have eat
+hoss and skunk and crow and hawk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We has a big fire to cook on, and to make de corn cakes
+we put one leaf down and put batter on dat and put another leaf over
+it and cover with hot ashes and by noon it was done. Same thing for
+supper. We never have biscuits 'cept on Sunday or Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>"My mama was de spinner so I has plenty shirts and some
+britches, and we raises indigo on de place and makes dye of it.
+We never wore no shoes in de summer and some winters neither. We has
+a good pair of pants and shirt we wears Sundays and holidays and was
+married in.</p>
+
+<p>"De way dey done at weddings dem days, you picks out a girl
+and tell your boss. If she was from another plantation you had to
+git her bosses 'mission and den dey tells you to come up dat night and
+git hitched up. They says to de girl, 'You's love dis man?' Dey says
+to de man, 'You loves dis girl?' If you say you don't know, it's all
+off, but if you say yes, dey brings in de broom and holds it 'bout a
+foot off de floor and say to you to jump over. Den he says you's married.
+If either of you stumps you toe on de broom, dat mean you got trouble
+comin' 'tween you, so you sho' jumps high.</p>
+
+<p>"My massa was good to us. He lived in a log house with a floor
+and was all fixed up with pretty furniture and mirrors and silver on
+de table. De missus was little and frail, but she was good to us and
+so was de massa. He wasn't no hand to whip like some of he neighbors.
+Dey would tied de slaves' hands to a pole and whip de blood out of them.
+Dey was whipped for runnin' away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I knowed a slave call Ben Bradley and he was sold on de
+auction block and his massa chained him hand and foot and started for
+Texas. Dey got to de Red River and was crossin' and de chains helt him
+down and he never came up. And I have a uncle what run off and dey took
+a pack of hounds&mdash;a pack were twelve&mdash;and dey got on his trail and I
+heared dem runnin' him. Dey run him three days and nights and took a
+gun loaded with buck shot but was sposed not to shoot above de legs.
+Dey come back and said he got away, but some boys was out huntin' and
+finds him and he been shot four times with buck shot.</p>
+
+<p>"De only time we got to rest was Sunday and de fourth of July
+and Christmas, and one day Thanksgiving. We got de big dinners on holidays.
+After supper was have corn shuckings, or on rainy days, and sometimes
+we shucks 500 bushels. We allus picked de cotton in big baskets,
+and when we gits it all picked we spreads on big and has a celebration.</p>
+
+<p>"I was in Texas when de war broke out and I hauls corn lots of
+times to de gin where was de soldier camp, and I helped cook awhile and
+would have been in de battle of Vicksburg only dey takes another man
+'stead of me and he gits kilt. I's glad I's a sorry cook, or I'd got
+kilt 'stead of him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420262" id="nr420262"></a>420262</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/191simcampbell.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Simp Campbell" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Simp Campbell</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>SIMP CAMPBELL was born January
+1860, in Harrison County, Texas,
+He belonged to W.L. Sloan and
+stayed with him until 1883, when
+Simp married and moved to Marshall.
+He and his wife live in Gregg Addition,
+Marshall, Texas, and Simp
+works as porter for a loan company.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My name is Simpson Campbell, but everybody, white and black, calls
+me Simp. I's born right here in Harrison County, on Bill Sloan's place,
+nine miles northwest of Marshall. I got in on the last five years of slavery.</p>
+
+<p>"Pappy was Lewis Campbell, and he was sold by the Florida Campbells
+to Marse Sloan and fotched to Texas, but he allus kep' the Campbell name.
+Mammy was Mariah and the Sloans brung her out of South Carolina. She raised
+a passel of chillen. Besides me there was Flint, Albert and Clinton of the
+boys, and&mdash;let me count&mdash;Dinah, Clandy, Mary, Lula, Liza, Hannah, Matilda
+and Millie of the girls.</p>
+
+<p>"The Sloans lived in a big house, but it wasn't no shanty. They was
+fixed 'bout as good as anybody in the county and driv as good hosses and rigs
+as anybody. They wasn't a mean streak in the whole Sloan family.</p>
+
+<p>"The slave quarters sot in rows right down in the field from the big
+house. They had beds made to the wall, and all the cookin' was on the fireplace.
+We raised all our meat and corn and garden truck right there on the
+place and Marse Sloan brung wheat and other rations from Shreveport. The
+nigger women spinned all the cloth and pappy made shoes by hand, when they
+kilt a beef. The beef was dried and jetted and hung in the smokehouse.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse's place civered a thousand acres and he had over a hunderd
+slaves, with a overseer, Johnson, and a nigger driver. Us niggers was
+treated well but the overseer had order to whip us for fightin'. If the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
+nigger driver hit too many licks, the overseer sold him off the place.</p>
+
+<p>"We worked from four till six and done a task after that, and sot
+round and talked till nine and then had to go to bed. On Saturday night
+you'd hear them fiddles and banjoes playin' and the niggers singin'. All
+them music gadgets was homemade. The banjoes was made of round pieces of
+wood, civered with sheepskin and strung with catgut strings.</p>
+
+<p>"They wasn't no school but Marse Bill larnt some his niggers readin'
+and writin' so we could use them bookin' cotton in the field and sich like.
+They was a church on the Sloan place and white preachers done most the 'xhorting.
+Mammy allus say the cullud preachers had to preach what they's told&mdash;obey you
+master and missus.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed Yankee sojers and wagons comin' home from Mansfield. Marse Tom
+sot us free right after surrender, but my folks stayed on with him till he died,
+in 1906. I lef when I's twenty-three and marries and made a livin' from public
+work in Marshall all my life. I worked as day laborer and raised two boys and
+two girls and the boys is farmin' right here in the county and doin' well.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's eighteen they got up a 'mendment to the Constitution and got out
+a "People's Party Ticket." It was a Democratic ticket and control by Southerners.
+They told us niggers if we'd vote that ticket we'd be rec'nized as white folks,
+but I didn't 'lieve a word of it. Old Man Sloan told all his niggers that and
+they all voted that ticket but two&mdash;that was Charley Tang and Simp Campbell.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'lieve the young race of our people is progressin' fine. If they had
+priv'lege to use they educations, they'd make more progress, but the color line
+holds them back.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420106" id="nr420106"></a>420106</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/193jamescape.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="James Cape" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">James Cape</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JAMES CAPE, centenarian, now living
+in a dilapidated little shack
+in the rear of the stockyards in
+Fort Worth, Texas, was born a slave
+to Mr. Bob Houston, who owned a
+large ranch in southeast Texas.
+James' parents came direct from
+Africa into slavery. James spent
+his youth as a cowboy, fought in
+the Confederate army, was wounded
+and has an ugly shoulder scar.
+After the war, James unknowingly
+took a job with the outlaw, Jesse
+James, for whom he worked three
+years, in Missouri. He then came
+back to Texas, and worked in the
+stockyards until 1928. Documentary
+proof of James' age is lacking,
+but various facts told him by his
+parents and others lead him to
+think he must be over 100 years old.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's bo'n in yonder southeast Texas and I don' know what
+month or de year for sho', but 'twas more dan 100 years ago. My
+mammy and pappy was bo'n in Africa, dats what dey's tol' me. Dey
+was owned by Marster Bob Houston and him had de ranch down dere,
+whar dey have cattle and hosses.</p>
+
+<p>"When I's old 'nough to set on de hoss, dey larned me to
+ride, tendin' hosses. 'Cause I's good hoss rider, dey uses me all
+de time gwine after hosses. I goes with dem to Mexico. We crosses
+de river lots of times. I 'members once when we was a drivin' 'bout
+200 hosses north'ards. Dey was a bad hail storm comes into de face
+of de herd and dat herd turns and starts de other way. Dere was five
+of us riders and we had to keep dem hosses from scatterment. I was
+de leader and do you know what happens to dis nigger if my hoss stumbles?
+Right dere's whar I'd still be! Marster give me a new saddle for savin'
+de hosses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One day Marster Bob comes to me and says, 'Jim, how you
+like to jine de army?' You see, de war had started. I says to him,
+'What does I have to do?' And he says, 'Tend hosses and ride 'em.'
+I was young den and thought it would be lots of fun, so I says I'd go.
+So de first thing I knows, I's in de army away off east from here,
+somewhar dis side of St. Louis and in Tennessee and Arkansas and other
+places. I goes in de army 'stead of Dr. Carroll.</p>
+
+<p>"After I gits in de army, it wasn' so much fun, 'cause tendin'
+hosses and ridin' wasn' all I does. No, sar, I has to do shootin' and
+git shooted at! One time we stops de train, takes Yankee money and lots
+of other things off dat train. Dat was way up de other side of Tennessee.</p>
+
+<p>"You's heard of de battle of Independence? Dat's whar we fights for
+three days and nights. I's not tendin' hosses dat time. Dey gives me a
+rifle and sends me up front fightin', when we wasn' running'. We does a
+heap of runnin' and dat suits dis nigger. I could do dat better'n advance.
+When de order comes to 'treat, I's all ready.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits shot in de shoulder in dat fight and lots of our soldiers
+gits killed and we loses our supply, jus' leaves it and runs. 'Nother time
+we fights two days and nights and de Yankees was bad dat time, too, and we
+had to run through de river. I sho' thought I's gwine git drowned den.
+Dat's de time we tries to git in St. Louis, but de Yankee mans stop us.</p>
+
+<p>"I's free after de war and goes back to Texas, to Gonzales County,
+and gits a job doin' cowboy work for Marster Ross herdin' cattle. And
+right dere's whar I's lucky for not gittin' in jail or hanged. It was dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>
+way: I's in town and dat man, Ross, says to me, 'I unnerstan' you's a
+good cowhand,' and he hires me and takes me way out. No house for miles
+'fore we comes to de ranch with cattle and I goes to work. After I's
+workin' a while, I wonders how come dey brings in sich fine steers so
+often and I says to myself, 'Marster Ross mus' have heaps of money for
+to buy all dem steers.' Dey pays no 'tention to de raisin' of cattle,
+jus' brings 'em in and drives dem 'way.</p>
+
+<p>"One time Marster Ross and six mens was gone a week and when dey
+comes back, one of 'em was missin'. Dey had no steers dat time and dey
+talks 'bout gittin' frusterated and how one man gits shot. I says to
+myself, 'What for was dey chased and shot at?' Den I 'members Marster
+Bob Houston done tol' me 'bout rustlers and how dey's hanged when dey's
+caught, and I knows den dat's how come all dem fine steers is driv in
+and out all de time. But how to git 'way, dere's de puzzlement. I not
+know which way to go and dere's no houses anywhere near. I keeps gittin'
+scarter, and ever' time somebody comes, I thinks its de law. But Marster
+Ross drives de cattle north and I says to him, 'I's good hand at de
+drive. Kin I go with you nex' <a name='TC_11'></a><span class="corr" title="tim">time</span> you goes north?' And not long after
+dat we starts and we gits to Kansas City. After Marster Ross gets shut of
+de critters, he says. 'We'll res' for couple days, den starts back.' I
+says to me, 'Not dis nigger.'</p>
+
+<p>"I sneaks 'way and was settin' on a bench when 'long comes a white
+man and he's tall, had dark hair and was fine lookin'. He says to me, 'Is
+you a cowhand?' So I tells him I is, and he says he wants a hand on his
+farm in Missouri and he says, 'Come with me.' He tells me his name was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
+James and takes me to his farm whar I tends cattle and hosses for
+three years and he pays me well. He gives me more'n I earns. After
+three years I leaves, but not 'cause I larned he was outlaw, 'cause
+I larned dat long time afterwa'ds. I's lonesome for Texas and dat's
+how I comes to Fort Worth and here's whar I's stayed ever' since.</p>
+
+<p>"I's married 'bout 40 years ago to a woman dat had eight chillens.
+We sep'rated 'cause dem chillens cause arg'ments. I can fight one,
+but not de army.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420180" id="nr420180"></a>420180</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>RICHARD CARRUTHERS, 100 year
+old ex-slave, was born in Memphis,
+Tennessee. Mr. Billy Coats bought
+him and his mother and brought them
+to Bastrop Co., Texas. He came to
+Houston 20 years ago and lives in
+a negro settlement known as Acres
+Home, about 8 miles northeast of
+Houston. It is a wooded section,
+with a clearing here and there for
+a Negro shack and plots of ground
+for growing "victuals and co'n."</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I wants to tell the Gospel truf. My mammy's name was
+Melia Carruthers and my papa's name was Max. My papa's papa's
+name was Carruthers, too. My brothers names was Charlie and Frank
+and Willie and John and Tom and Adam.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was still little Mr. Billy Coats bought my mama
+and us and with about 500 of his slaves we set out to come to Texas.
+We goes to Bastrop County and starts to work. My old missy&mdash;her
+name was Missy Myra&mdash;was 99 year old and her head was bald as a
+egg and had wens on it as big as eggs, too.</p>
+
+<p>"In them days the boss men had good houses but the niggers
+had log cabins and they burned down oftentimes. The chimney would
+cotch fire, 'cause it was made out of sticks and clay and moss. Many
+the time we have to git up at midnight and push the chimney 'way from
+the house to keep the house from burnin' up.</p>
+
+<p>"The chairs was mostly chunks of cordwood put on end, or slabs,
+just rough, and the beds was built like scaffoldin'. We made a sort
+of mattress out of corn shucks or moss.</p>
+
+<p>"My missy, she was good, but the overseer, he rough. His temper
+born of the debbil, himse'f. His name was Tom Hill, but us called him
+'Debbil Hill.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Old Debbil Hill, he used to whup me and the other niggers if we don't
+jump quick enough when he holler and he stake us out like you stake out
+a hide and whup till we bleed. Many the time I set down and made a eight-plait
+whup, so he could whup from the heels to the back of the head 'til
+he figger he get the proper ret'ibution. Sometime he take salt and rub
+on the nigger so he smart and burn proper and suffer mis'ry. They was
+a caliboose right on the plantation, what look like a ice-house, and it
+was sho' bad to git locked up in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Us got provisions 'lowanced to us every Saturday night. If
+you had two in the family, they 'lowanced you one-half gallon 'lasses
+and 12 to 15 pounds bacon and a peck of meal. We have to take the meal
+and parch it and make coffee out of it. We had our flours. One of them
+we called biscuit flour and we called it 'shorts.' We had rye and wheat
+and buck grain.</p>
+
+<p>"If they didn't provision you 'nough, you jus' had to slip 'round
+and git a chicken. That easy 'nough, but grabbin' a pig a sho' 'nough
+problem. You have to cotch him by the snoot so he won't squeal, and clomp
+him tight while you knife him. That ain't stealin', is it? You has to keep
+right on workin' in the field, if you ain't 'lowanced 'nough, and no nigger
+like to work with his belly groanin'.</p>
+
+<p>"When the white preacher come he preach and pick up his Bible and
+claim he gittin the text right out from the good Book and he preach: 'The
+Lord say, don't you niggers steal chickens from your missus. Don't you steal
+YOUR MARSTER'S hawgs.' That would be all he preach.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Us niggers used to have a prayin' ground down in the hollow and
+sometime we come out of the field, between 11 and 12 at night, scorchin'
+and burnin' up with nothin' to eat, and we wants to ask the good Lawd to
+have mercy. We puts grease in a snuff pan or bottle and make a lamp. We
+takes a pine torch, too, and goes down in the hollow to pray. Some gits
+so joyous they starts to holler loud and we has to stop up they mouth. I
+see niggers git so full of the Lawd and so happy they draps unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>"I kep' a eye on the niggers down in the cotton patch. Sometime they
+lazy 'round and if I see the overseer comin' from the big house I sings a
+song to warn 'em, so they not git whupped, and it go like this:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Hold up, hold up, American Spirit!<br />
+Hold up, hold up, H-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"We used to go huntin' and they was lots of game, bears and panthers
+and coons. We have bear dawgs, fox dawg and rabbit dawg that mostly jus'
+go by the name of houn' dawg. Then they have a dawg to run niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"I never tried the conjure, but they would take hair and brass nails
+and thimbles and needles and mix them up in a conjure bag. But I knows one
+thing. They was a old gin between Wilbarger and Colorado and it was hanted
+with spirits of kilt niggers. Us used to hear that old mill hummin' when
+dark come and we slip up easy, but it stop, then when you slip away it start up.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member when the stars fell. We runs and prays, 'cause we thinks
+it jedgment day. It sure dumb old Debbil Hill, them stars was over his
+power.</p>
+
+<p>"On Sundays we put shoes on our feet and they was brass toed. They
+was so hard and stiff they go 'tump, tump, tump,' when we walk. That's
+the only day we got 'cept Christmas and we jus' got somethin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
+extry to eat. All them women sho' knowed how to cook! I often tell my
+wife how glad I was one mornin' when my missy give me a hot, butter biscuit.
+I goes down and shows it to all the other boys. We didn't git them hot,
+butter biscuits in them days.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to dance the pigeon wing and swing my partners 'round.
+Was them womenfolks knock-kneed? You sho' couldn't tell, even when you
+swung 'em 'round, 'cause they dresses was so long.</p>
+
+<p>"I's been all 'round the mountain and up on top of it in my day.
+Durin' slave time I been so cold I mos' turn white and they sot me 'fore
+the fire and poultice me with sliced turnips. Come a norther and it
+blow with snow and sleet and I didn't have 'nough clothes to keep me warm.</p>
+
+<p>"When a nigger marry, he slick up his lowers and put on his
+brass-toed shoes, then the preacher marry him out of the Bible. My pappy
+have a pass to visit my mammy and if he don't have one, the paddle roller
+conk him on the head. My grandma and grandpa come here in a steamboat.
+The man come to Africa and say, 'Man and woman, does you want a job?' So
+they gits on the boat and then he has the 'vantage.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was 21 and some more, I don't know jus' how old, I was a
+free man. That the day I shouted. We niggers scattered like partridges.
+I had a fiddle and I'd play for the white folks wherever I went, when they
+has the balls. I marries after 'while, but I don't know what year, 'cause
+we never done paid no 'tention to years. My first wife died after a long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>
+time, I think 'bout 34 year and I married another and she died this
+very year. Jus' three months later I marries my housekeeper, named
+Luvena Dixon, cause I allus lived a upright life and I knowed the
+Lawd wouldn't like it if I went on livin' in the same house with Luvena
+without we was married. She is 52 year old, and we is happy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420216" id="nr420216"></a>420216</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/202acatocarter.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Cato Carter" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Cato Carter</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/202bcatocarter.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Cato Carter" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Cato Carter</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>CATO CARTER was born in 1836
+or 1837, near Pineapple, Wilcox
+County, Alabama, a slave
+of the Carter family. He and
+his wife live at 3429 Booth St.,
+Dallas, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I'm home today 'cause my li'l, old dog is lost and I has to stay
+'round to hunt for him. I been goin' every day on the truck to the cotton
+patches. I don't pick no more, 'count my hands git too tired and begin to
+cramp on me. But I go and set in the field and watch the lunches for the
+other hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a hunerd one years old, 'cause I's twenty-eight, goin' on
+twenty-nine, a man growned, when the breakin' up come. I'm purty old, but
+my folks live that way. My old, black mammy, Zenie Carter, lived to be
+a hunerd twenty-five, and Oll Carter, my white massa&mdash;which was the brother
+of my daddy&mdash;lived to be a hunerd four. He ain't been so long died. Al
+Carter, my own daddy, lived to be very ageable, but I don't know when he
+died.</p>
+
+<p>"Back in Alabama, Missie Adeline Carter took me when I was past my
+creepin' days to live in the big house with the white folks. I had a room
+built on the big house, where I stayed, and they was allus good to me, 'cause
+I's one of their blood. They never hit me a lick or slapped me once, and told
+me they'd never sell me away from them. They was the bes' quality white folks
+and lived in a big, two-story house with a big hall what run all the way
+through the house. They wasn't rough as some white folks on their niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy lived in a hewn-oak log cabin in the quarters. There was
+a long row of cabins, some bigger than t'others, 'count of fam'ly size. My
+massa had over eighty head of slaves. Them li'l, old cabins was cozy, 'cause<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>
+we chinked 'em with mud and they had stick chimneys daubed with mud, mixed
+with hawg-hair.</p>
+
+<p>"The fixin's was jus' plain things. The beds was draw-beds&mdash;wooden
+bedsteads helt together with ropes drawed tight, to hold them. We scalded
+moss and buried it awhile and stuffed it into tickin' to make mattresses.
+Them beds slep' good, better'n the ones nowadays.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a good fireplace for cookin' and Sundays the Missie give
+us niggers a pint of flour and a chicken, for to cook a mess of victuals.
+Then there was plenty game to find. Many a time I've kilt seventy-five or
+eighty squirrels out of one big beech. There was lots of deer and bears and
+quails and every other kind of game, but when they ran the Indians out of
+the country, the game jus' followed the Indians. I've seed the bigges' herds
+of deer followin' the way the Indians drifted. Whenever the Indians lef', the
+game all lef' with them, for some reason I dunno.</p>
+
+<p>"Talkin' 'bout victuals, our eatin' was good. Can't say the same for
+all places. Some of the plantations half starved their niggers and 'lowanced
+out their eatin' till they wasn't fittin' for work. They had to slip about
+to niggers on other places to piece out their meals. They had field calls and
+other kinds of whoops and hollers, what had a meanin' to 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Our place was fifteen hunerd acres in one block, and 'sides the crops
+of cotton and corn and rice and ribbon cane we raised in the bottoms, we had
+veg'tables and sheep and beef. We dried the beef on scaffolds we built and I
+used to tend it. But bes' of anythin' to eat, I liked a big, fat coon, and I
+allus liked honey. Some the niggers had li'l garden patches they tended for
+themselves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Everythin' I tell you am the truth, but they's plenty I can't tell
+you. I heard plenty things from my mammy and grandpappy. He was a fine diver
+and used to dive in the Alabama river for things what was wrecked out of boats,
+and the white folks would git him to go down for things they wanted. They'd
+let him down by a rope to find things on the bottom of the riverbed. He used
+to git a piece of money for doin' it.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandmammy was a juksie, 'cause her mammy was a nigger and her daddy
+a Choctaw Indian. That's what makes me so mixed up with Indian and African and
+white blood. Sometimes it mattered to me, sometimes it didn't. It don't no
+more, 'cause I'm not too far from the end of my days.</p>
+
+<p>"I had one brother and one sister I helped raise. They was mostly nigger.
+The Carters told me never to worry 'bout them, though, 'cause my mammy was of
+their blood and all of us in our fam'ly would never be sold, and sometime they'd
+make free man and women of us. My brother and sister lived with the niggers,
+though.</p>
+
+<p>"I was trained for a houseboy and to tend the cows. The bears was so bad
+then, a 'sponsible pusson who could carry a gun had to look after them.</p>
+
+<p>"My massa used to give me a li'l money 'long, to buy what I wanted. I allus
+bought fine clothes. In the summer when I was a li'l one, I wore lowerin's, like
+the rest of the niggers. That was things made from cotton sackin'. Most the
+boys wore shirttails till they was big yearlin's. When they bought me red russets
+from the town, I cried and cried. I didn't want to wear no rawhide shoes. So
+they took 'em back. They had a weakness for my cryin'. I did have plenty fine
+clothes, good woolen suits they spinned on the place, and doeskins and fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>
+linens. I druv in the car'age with the white folks and was 'bout the mos'
+dudish nigger in them parts.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to tend the nurslin' thread. The reason they called it that
+was when the mammies was confined with babies havin' to suck, they had to spin.
+I'd take them the thread and bring it back to the house when it was spinned.
+If they didn't spin seven or eight cuts a day, they'd git a whuppin'. It was
+consid'ble hard on a woman when she had a frettin' baby. But every mornin'
+them babies had to be took to the big house, so the white folks could see
+if they's dressed right. They was money tied up in li'l nigger young'uns.</p>
+
+<p>"They whupped the women and they whupped the mens. I used to work
+some in the tan'ry and we made the whips. They'd tie them down to a stob,
+and give 'em the whuppin'. Some niggers, it taken four men to whup 'em,
+but they got it. The nigger driver was meaner than the white folks. They'd
+better not leave a blade of grass in the rows. I seed 'em beat a nigger
+half a day to make him 'fess up to stealin' a sheep or a shoat. Or they'd
+whup 'em for runnin' away, but not so hard if they come back of their own
+'cordance when they got hungry and sick in the swamps. But when they had
+to run 'em down with the nigger dogs, they'd git in bad trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"The Carters never did have any real 'corrigible niggers, but I heard
+of 'em plenty on other places. When they was real 'corrigible, the white
+folks said they was like mad dogs and didn't mind to kill them so much as
+killin' a sheep. They'd take 'em to the graveyard and shoot 'em down and
+bury 'em face downward, with their shoes on. I never seed it done, but they
+made some the niggers go for a lesson to them that they could git the same.</p>
+
+<p>"But I didn't even have to carry a pass to leave my own place, like
+the other niggers. I had a cap with a sign on it: 'Don't bother this nigger,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
+or there will be Hell to pay.' I went after the mail, in the town. It come
+in coaches and they put on fresh hosses at Pineapple. The coachman run the
+hosses into Pineapple with a big to-do and blowin' the bugle to git the fresh
+hosses ready. I got the mail. I was a trusty all my days and never been
+'rested by the law to this day.</p>
+
+<p>"I never had no complaints for my treatment, but some the niggers hated
+syrup makin' time, 'cause when they had to work till midnight makin' syrup,
+its four o'clock up, jus' the same. Sun-up to sundown was for fiel' niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"Corn shuckin' was fun. Them days no corn was put in the cribs with shucks
+on it. They shucked it in the fiel' and shocked the fodder. They did it by
+sides and all hands out. A beef was kilt and they'd have a reg'lar picnic
+feastin'. They was plenty whiskey for the niggers, jus' like Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>"Christmas was the big day at the Carter's. Presents for every body, and
+the bakin' and preparin' went on for days. The li'l ones and the big ones
+were glad, 'specially the nigger mens, 'count of plenty good whiskey. Mr.
+Oll Carter got the bes' whiskey for his niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"We used to have frolics, too. Some niggers had fiddles and played the
+reels, and niggers love to dance and sing and eat.</p>
+
+<p>"Course niggers had their ser'ous side, too. They loved to go to church
+and had a li'l log chapel for worship. But I went to the white folks church.
+In the chapel some nigger mens preached from the Bible, but couldn't read a
+line no more than a sheep could. The Carters didn't mind their niggers prayin'
+and singin' hymns, but some places wouldn't 'low them to worship a-tall, and
+they had to put their heads in pots to sing or pray.</p>
+
+<p>"Mos' the niggers I know, who had their mar'age put in the book, did it
+after the breakin' up, plenty after they had growned chillen. When they got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
+married on the places, mostly they jus' jumped over a broom and that made 'em
+married. Sometimes one the white folks read a li'l out of the Scriptures to
+'em and they felt more married.</p>
+
+<p>"Take me, I was never one for sickness. But the slaves used to git
+sick. There was jaundice in them bottoms. First off they'd give some castor oil,
+and if that didn't cure they'd give blue mass. Then if he was still sick they'd
+git a doctor.</p>
+
+<p>"They used to cry the niggers off jus' like so much cattle, and we
+didn't think no diff'rent of it. I seed them put them on the block and brag on
+them somethin' big. Everybody liked to hear them cry off niggers. The cryer was
+a clown and made funny talk and kep' everybody laughin'.</p>
+
+<p>"When massa and the other mens on the place went off to war, he called
+me and said, 'Cato, you's allus been a 'sponsible man, and I leave you to look
+after the women and the place. If I don't come back, I want you to allus stay by
+Missie Adeline! I said, 'Fore Gawd, I will, Massa Oll.' He said, 'Then I can
+go away peaceable.'</p>
+
+<p>"We thought for a long time the sojers had the Fed'rals whupped to pieces,
+but there was plenty bad times to go through. I carried a gun and guarded the
+place at nighttime. The paddyrollers was bad. I cotched one and took him to the
+house more'n once. They wore black caps and put black rags over their faces and
+was allus skullduggerying 'round at night. We didn't use torches any more when
+we went 'round at night, 'cause we was afeared. We put out all the fires 'round
+the house at nighttime.</p>
+
+<p>"The young mens in grey uniforms used to pass so gay and singin', in the
+big road. Their clothes was good and we used to feed them the best we had on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>
+place. Missie Adeline would say, 'Cato, they is our boys and give them the best this
+place 'fords.' We taken out the hams and the wine and kilt chickens for them. That
+was at first.</p>
+
+<p>"Then the boys and mens in blue got to comin' that way, and they was fine
+lookin' men, too. Missie Adeline would cry and say, 'Cato, they is just mens and
+boys and we got to feed them, too.' We had a pavilion built in the yard, like they
+had at picnics, and we fed the Fed'rals in that. Missie Adeline set in to cryin'
+and says to the Yankees, 'Don't take Cato. He is the only nigger man I got by me now.
+If you take Cato, I just don't know what I'll do.' I tells them sojers I got to stay
+by Missie Adeline so long as I live. The Yankee mens say to her, 'Don't 'sturb youself,
+we ain't gwine to take Cato or harm nothin' of yours.' The reason they's all
+right by us, was 'cause we prepared for them, but with some folks they was rough
+somethin' ter'ble. They taken off their hosses and corn.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed the trees bend low and shake all over and heard the roar and poppin'
+of cannon balls. There was springs not too far from our place and the sojers used
+to camp there and build a fire and cook a mule, 'cause they'd got down to starvation.
+When some of the guerillas seed the fire they'd aim to it, and many a time they
+spoiled that dinner for them sojers. The Yankees did it and our boys did it, too.
+There was killin' goin' on so ter'ble, like people was dogs.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Oll come back and he was all wore out and ragged. He soon called all
+the niggers to the front yard and says, 'Mens and womens, you are today as free as
+I am. You are free to do as you like, 'cause the damned Yankees done 'creed you are.
+They ain't a nigger on my place what was born here or ever lived here who can't stay
+here and work and eat to the end of his days, as long as this old place will raise
+peas and goobers. Go if you wants, and stay if you wants.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
+Some of the niggers stayed and some went, and some what had run away to the North
+come back. They allus called, real humble like, at the back gate to Missie Adeline,
+and she allus fixed it up with Massa Oll they could have a place.</p>
+
+<p>"Near the close of the war I seed some folks leavin' for Texas. They said
+if the Fed'rals won the war they'd have to live in Texas to keep slaves. So plenty
+started driftin' their slaves to the west. They'd pass with the womens ridin' in
+the wagons and the mens on foot. Some took slaves to Texas after the Fed'rals
+done 'creed the breakin' up.</p>
+
+<p>"Long as I lived I minded what my white folks told me, 'cept one time.
+They was a nigger workin' in the fiel' and he kept jerkin' the mules and Massa
+Oll got mad, and he give me a gun and said, 'Go out there and kill that man.'
+I said, 'Massa Oll, please don't tell me that. I ain't never kilt nobody and
+I don't want to.' He said, 'Cato, you do what I tell you.' He meant it. I
+went out to the nigger and said, 'You has got to leave this minute, and I is, too,
+'cause I is 'spose to kill you, only I ain't and Massa Oll will kill me.' He
+drops the hanes and we run and crawled through the fence and ran away.</p>
+
+<p>"I hated to go, 'cause things was so bad, and flour sold for $25.00 a
+barrel, and pickled pork for $15.00 a barrel. You couldn't buy nothin' lessen
+with gold. I had plenty of 'federate money, only it wouldn't buy nothin'.</p>
+
+<p>"But today I is a old man and my hands ain't stained with no blood.
+I is allus been glad I didn't kill that man.</p>
+
+<p>"Mules run to a ter'ble price then. A right puny pair of mules sold
+for $500.00. But the Yankees give me a mule and I farmed a year for a white man
+and watched a herd of mules, too. I stayed with them mules till four o'clock
+even Sundays. So many scoundrels was goin' 'bout, stealin' mules.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That year I was boun' out by 'greement with the white man, and I made
+$360.00. The bureau come by that year lookin' at nigger's contracts, to see
+they didn't git skunt out their rightful wages. Missie Adeline and Massa Oll
+didn't stay mad at me and every Sunday they come by to see me, and brung me
+li'l del'cate things to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"The Carters said a hunerd times they regretted they never larned me to
+read or write, and they said my daddy done put up $500.00 for me to go to the
+New Allison school for cullud folks. Miss Benson, a Yankee, was the teacher.
+I was twenty-nine years old and jus' startin' in the blueback speller. I
+went to school a while, but one mornin' at ten o'clock my poor old mammy come
+by and called me out. She told me she got put out, 'cause she too old to work
+in the fiel'. I told her not to worry, that I'm the family man now, and she
+didn't never need to git any more three-quarter hand wages no more.</p>
+
+<p>"So I left school and turnt my hand to anything I could find for years.
+I never had no trouble findin' work, 'cause all the white folks knowed Cato was
+a good nigger. I lef' my mammy with some fine white folks and she raised a whole
+family of chillen for them. Their name was Bryan and they lived on a li'l bayou.
+Them young'uns was crazy 'bout mammy and they'd send me word not to worry about
+her, 'cause she'd have the bes' of care and when she died they'd tend to her
+buryin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Finally I come to Texas, 'cause I thought there was money for the takin'
+out here. I got a job splittin' rails for two years and from then on I farmed,
+mostly. I married a woman and lived with her forty-seven years, rain or shine.
+We had thirteen chillen and eight of them is livin' today.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Endurin' the big war I got worried 'bout my li'l black mammy and I
+wanted to go back home and see her and the old places. I went, and she was
+shriveled up to not much of anything. That's the last time I saw her. But
+for forty-four years I didn't forget to send her things I thought she'd want.
+I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I left and raised a family of chillen.
+I saw Missie Adeline and she was a old <a name='TC_12'></a><span class="corr" title="women">woman</span>. We went out and looked at the
+tombstones and the rock markers in the graveyard on the old place, and some of
+them done near melted away. I looked good at lots of things, 'cause I knowed
+I wouldn't be that way 'gain. So many had gone on since I'd been there befo'.</p>
+
+<p>"After my first wife died I married 'gain and my wife is a good woman
+but she's old and done lost her voice, and has to be in Terrell most the time.
+But I git 'long all right, 'cept my hands cramps some.</p>
+
+<p>"You goin' take my picture? I lived through plenty and I lived a long
+time, but this is the first time I ever had my picture took. If I'd knowed
+you wanted to do that, I'd have tidied up and put on my best.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420276" id="nr420276"></a>420276</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JACK CAUTHERN, 85, was born
+near Austin, Texas. Dick Townes
+owned Jack and his parents.
+After they were freed, the family
+stayed on the plantation,
+but Jack went to San Angelo,
+because "times was too dull in
+Travis County."</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My master was Dick Townes and my folks come with him from Alabama.
+He <a name='TC_13'></a><span class="corr" title="woned">owned</span> a big plantation fifteen miles from Austin and worked lots of
+slaves. We had the best master in the whole county, and everybody called
+us "Townes' free niggers," he was so good to us, and we worked hard for
+him, raisin' cotton and corn and wheat and oats.</p>
+
+<p>"Most the slaves lived in two-room log cabins with dirt floors, over
+in the quarters, but I lived in master's yard. That's where I was born.
+There was a tall fence 'tween the yard and the quarters and the other
+nigger boys was so jealous of me they wouldn't let me cross that fence
+into the quarters. They told me I thinked I was white, jes' for livin' in
+master's yard.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and young master had the good times. He was nigh my age and we'd
+steal chickens from Old Miss and go down in the orchard and barbecue 'em. One
+time she cotched us and sho' wore us out! She'd send us to pick peas, but
+few peas we picked!</p>
+
+<p>"Old Miss was good to her cullud folks. When she'd hear a baby cryin'
+in the night she'd put on boots and take her lantern and go see about it.
+If we needed a doctor she'd send for old Dr. Rector and when I had the
+measles he give me some pills big as the end of my finger.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We went to church all the time. Young Miss come over Sunday mornin'
+and fotched all us chillen to the house and read the Bible to us. She was kind
+of a old maid and that was her pleasure. We had baptisin's, too. One old cullud
+man was a preacher. Lawd, Lawd, we had shoutin' at them camp meetin's!</p>
+
+<p>"I guess we was glad to be free. Old master done die and Old Miss was
+managin' the plantation. She had the whole bunch in the yard and read the freedom
+paper. The old slaves knowed what it meant, but us young ones didn't. She told
+everybody they could stay and work on shares and most of 'em did, but some went
+back to they old homes in Alabama.</p>
+
+<p>"I stayed a while and married, and came to San Angelo. The reason I come,
+times was dull in Travis County and I done hear so much talk 'bout this town I
+said I was comin' and see for myself. That was in 1900 and it was jes' a forest
+here then. I worked eighteen years in McCloskey's saloon, and he gave me ten
+dollars every Christmas 'sides my pay and a suit every year. I wish he was
+livin' now. My wife and I was together fifty-two years and then she died.
+After a long time I married again, and my wife is out pickin' cotton now.</p>
+
+<p>"It seem mighty hard to me now by side of old times, but I don't know if
+it was any better in slavery days. It seems mighty hard though, since I'm old
+and can't work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420154" id="nr420154"></a>420154</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>SALLY BANKS CHAMBERS, wife of
+Ben Chambers of Liberty, does
+not know her age. She was born
+a slave of Jim Moore, in Oakland,
+Louisiana. Sally has been married
+three times and has had
+seven children, about 54 grandchildren
+and 13 great-grandchildren.
+Heavy gold earrings
+hang from her ears and she dresses,
+even in midsummer, in a long-sleeved
+calico shirt, heavy socks
+and shoes, and a sweeping skirt
+many yards wide.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Befo' I marry de first time my name am Sally Banks, and I's
+borned in de old states, over in Louisiana, round Oakland. I ain't 'member
+nothin' 'bout dat place, 'cause I's so small when dey brung me to Texas.</p>
+
+<p>"Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old <a name='TC_14'></a><span class="corr" title="gen'zen">gen'man</span>, with a big bald
+place on he head, and he am good to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old
+missus, what was de big, stout woman. She am terrible stric', but she whip
+de li'l white chillen too, so dey be good.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy name John Moore and mama name Car'line, and dey borned in
+Louisiana. My grandpa was Lewis Moore and grandma name Polly, but dey wasn't
+reg'lar Africy people. My grandma, she have right smart good blood in her.</p>
+
+<p>"When old massa come to Texas he brung us over first by wagon, a
+mule wagon with a cover over de top, and he rent de house clost to Liberty.
+But de nex' year he find a place on de river bottom near Grand Cane and it
+jes' suit him for de slaves he have, so he brung all de rest over from Louisiana.</p>
+
+<p>"My mama have four chillen when us come to Texas, but she have
+eleven more after freedom. When war broke out she have six, but she multiply
+after dat. She de milker and washwoman and spinner, and make de good, strong
+clothes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dey have li'l separate houses make outten logs for us slaves. De white
+folks house was one dese big, old double-pen house, with de hall down de middle.
+Dey have right nice things in it.</p>
+
+<p>"De white folks 'lowance out de food every Saturday night and dat spose
+last de week. All de cullud folks cook for deyself 'cept'n de single mens, and
+dey eats up in de big kitchen. Us have syrup and cornbread and lots of sweet
+'taters and homecure' meat what dey salt down and hang in de smokehouse.</p>
+
+<p>"De old missus, she ain't 'low no dancin' or huzzawin' round dat place,
+'cause she Christian. Dey 'low us Saturday and Sunday off, and de women do dey
+own washin den'. De menfolks tend to de gardens round dey own house. Dey raise
+some cotton and sell it to massa and git li'l money dat way. Us don't never
+have no presents, but dey give eatments mostly.</p>
+
+<p>"De young massas both go to war. Dey John Calhoun Moore and William.
+De oldes' goes crazy, kind of shellshock like. As far as I knowed, he ain't
+never git no more better. Young William and de old man comes back without no
+scratch, but dey ain't serve long. All dey three 'lists by deyselfs, 'cause
+dey didn't have no truck with dem conscrip'ers. One my uncles, Levy Moore,
+he go to war to wait on de massas, and he struck with de fever at Sabine Pass
+and die right dere.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom riz up, old massa come home. Den he call all de growed
+folks and tell dem dey's free. A heap left, dey jes' broke ranks and left.
+My daddy and mama both stay. Dey de fav'rites. Old missus make present to
+my mama of a heap of things she need. But de white folks was jus' rentin'
+and when dey have no slaves no more dey give it up and move to Tarkington
+Prairie. Us lost track of dem and ain't never seed dem no more.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy come back to Liberty den and work in de woodyard. Mama, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+larn me to work and cook and sich and hire me out to nuss a white baby.
+I ain't knowed how much dey pay, 'cause mama she collec' de money.</p>
+
+<p>"I's 19 year old when I marry de first time. You know I got two
+dead men, dat Dick Owens and Nero Williams, both of Liberty. I has two
+gals, Alice and Airy, for Dick, and five chillen for Nero. Dey all dead
+but Adlowyer and Mamie, and dey lives right here. I been marry some thirty
+odd year to Ben Chambers but us ain't never have no chillen.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness, I dunno how many grandchillen I has. I jedge 'bout
+54 in all and 13 great ones.</p>
+
+<p>"I loves to work and I ain't gwineter beg, though I's got too
+old to do much. I can't take it but a li'l at a time, but I gits by somehow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420179" id="nr420179"></a>420179</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JEPTHA CHOICE, 1117 Brashear
+St., Houston, Texas, was born
+in slavery, on the plantation
+of Jezro Choice, about 6 miles
+south of Henderson, Texas.
+Jeptha was sent to school with
+the white children, and after
+he was freed, he was sent to
+school for several years, and
+became a teacher. He moved to
+Houston in 1888 and opened a
+barber shop. Jeptha claims to
+have been born on Oct. 17, 1835,
+which would make him 101 years
+old. He has the appearance of
+extreme age, but has a retentive
+memory, and his manner of speaking
+varies from fairly good English
+to typical Negro dialect
+and idiom.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I'll be 102 years old, come fall, 'cause my mother told me I was
+born on Oct. 17, 1835, and besides, I was about 30 years old at the end
+of the Civil War. We belonged to the Choices and I was born on their
+plantation. My mother's name was Martha and she had been brought here
+from Serbia. My father's name was John and he was from the East Indies.
+They was brought to this country in a slave boat owned by Captain Adair
+and sold to someone at New Orleans before Master Jezro Choice bought
+them. I had five sisters and one brother but they are all dead, 'cepting
+one brother who lives near Henderson.</p>
+
+<p>"Master Jezro was right kind. He had 50 or 60 slaves and a grist
+mill and tannery besides the plantation. My white folks sort of picked
+me out and I went to school with the white children. I went to the
+fields when I was about 20, but I didn't do much field works, 'cause they
+was keepin' me good and they didn't want to strain me.</p>
+
+<p>"On Sunday we just put an old Prince Albert coat on some good nigger
+and made a preacher out of him. We niggers had our band, too, and I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>
+one of the players.</p>
+
+<p>"The master was mighty careful about raisin' healthy nigger families
+and used us strong, healthy young bucks to stand the healthy nigger
+gals. When I was young they took care not to strain me and I was as handsome
+as a speckled pup and was in demand for breedin'. Later on we niggers
+was 'lowed to marry and the master and missus would fix the nigger and gal
+up and have the doin's in the big house. The white folks would gather
+round in a circle with the nigger and gal in the center and then master
+laid a broom on the floor and they held hands and jumped over it. That
+married 'em for good.</p>
+
+<p>"When babies was born old nigger grannies handled them cases, but
+until they was about three years old they wasn't 'lowed round the quarters,
+but was wet nursed by women who didn't work in the field and kept in separate
+quarters and in the evenin' their mammies were let to see 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"We was fed good and had lots of beef and hawg meat and wild game.
+Possum and sweet yams is mighty good. You parboil the possum about half done
+and put him in a skewer pan and put him in a hot oven and just 'fore he is
+done you puts the yams in the pan and sugar on 'em. That's a feast.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes when they's short of bread the old missus would say, 'How
+'bout some ash cakes?' Then they'd mix cornmeal and water and sweep ashes
+out of the open hearth and bake the ash cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"The master and his boys was all kilt in the war and after freedom
+I stayed all summer. It was pretty tough on us niggers for a while, 'cause
+the womenfolks what was left after the war didn't have money. But Colonel
+Jones, the master's son-in-law, took me to live in Henderson and paid twenty-five
+cents a week for more schoolin' for me and I learned through fractions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>
+Then I got me a job teachin' school about six months a year and in off
+times I'd farm. I did lots of different kinds of work, on the narrow
+gauge railroad out of Longview and I learned to be a barber, too. But
+I had to give it up a few years back 'cause I can't stand up so long any
+more and now I'm tryin' to help my people by divine healing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420243" id="nr420243"></a>420243</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/220aamosclarksorghummill.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Amos Clark&#39;s Sorghun Mill" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Amos Clark&#39;s Sorghun Mill</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/220bamosclark.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Amos Clark" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Amos Clark</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>AMOS CLARK, 96, was born a
+slave of Robert Clark, in
+Washington County, Texas.
+After Amos was freed, he
+farmed near Belton, Texas.
+Amos now lives in Waco.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was borned on the second of April, in 1841. Mammy say dat
+de year, 'cause Marse Bob's brother, Tom, done go tradin' and has a
+lot of trouble with de Indians, and come back with scars all over he
+arms. It warn't all dey fault, 'cause Marse Tom allus gittin' in
+trouble with somebody.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was still half-growed, Marse Bob traded me to Marse Ed
+Roseborough, and we come to Belton to live. Us piled ox wagons high
+with beddin' and clothes and sich, and Old Marse had he books in a
+special horsehair trunk, what de hide still had hair on. It had brass
+tacks all trimmin' it up, and it was sho' a fine trunk, and he say,
+'Amos, you black rascal, keep you eye on dat trunk, and don't git it
+wet crossin' de water and don't let no Indian git it.' Us had a sizeable
+drove of cattle and some sheep and pigs and chickens and ducks.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse and Missis finds where dey wants de house and us gits dem
+axes out and in a few days dere am a nice log house with two big rooms
+and a hall 'tween dem, mos' as big as de rooms. Us been on de road
+'bout six weeks and Missis sho' proud of her new house. Den us makes
+logs into houses for us and a big kitchen close to de big house. Den
+us builds a office for Old Marse and makes chairs and beds and tables
+for everybody. Old Miss brung her bed and a spindly, li'l table, and
+us make all de rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For eatin' de good shooters and scouters gits birds and rabbits
+and wild turkeys and sometimes a lot of wild eggs or honey, when dey chops a
+bee tree down. A old Indian come to holp us hunt. He'd work a week if Marse
+Ed give him some red calico or a hatchet. Old Miss done bring a dozen hens and
+a bag of seeds, and folks come ridin' twenty miles to swap things.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't no mill to grind corn, so de boss carpenter, he hollows
+out a log and gits some smooth, hard rocks and us grind de corn like it was a
+morter. Old Man Stubblefield builded a watermill on de creek 'bout eight miles
+from us, and den us tooken de corn dere.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was three hundred acres and more'n fifty slaves, and lots of
+work, clearin' and buildin' and plantin'. Some de cabins didn't git no floor
+for two years. Jes' quick as dey could, de men gits out clapboards for de
+walls and split puncheon slabs for floors and palin's for fences.</p>
+
+<p>"Missis, she takes two de likelies' young slaves and makes a garden,
+come spring. Somehow she git herself roses and posies and vegetables.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't no overseer. Marse Ed, he jes' ride round on he big hoss
+and see to things. Us didn't know nothin 'bout de war much, 'cause none us could
+read or write.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was two fiddlers 'mongst us, Jim Roseborough and Tom. Dey'd have
+de big barbecue for folks come from miles round, and coffee and chicken and turkey
+and dancin' and fiddlin' all night. Come daybreak, dey jes' goin' good. Us niggers
+dance back de quarters, and call</p>
+
+<p>
+"'All eight balance and all eight swing,<br />
+All left allemond and right hand grand,<br />
+Meet your partner and prom'nade, eight,<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>Den march till you come straight.<br />
+<br />
+"'First lady out to couple on de right,<br />
+Swing Mr. Adam and swing Miss Eve,<br />
+Swing Old Adam befo' you leave,<br />
+Don't forgit your own&mdash;now you're home.'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Two, three years after dat I marries Liza Smith. Us has four chillen
+and all dead 'cept John, and he lives out west.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom Old Marse say kill a yearlin' and have de big dinner and
+dance. De young ones he told to scatter out and hunt work, not to steal and
+work hard. Some de oldes' ones he give a cabin and a patch of land. He say
+de niggers what want to stay on and work for him can, iffen he make enough to
+feed dem. I stays with Marse Ed, but he give me a patch of twenty acres and a
+sorghum mill to make a livin' on. Dat how I gits on my way after freedom.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits dat sorghum mill to workin' good and works de Roseborough land
+and my patch, and raises corn and cotton and wheat. I was plumb good at farmin'.
+I allus had a piece or two of money in my pocket since I can 'member, but now
+de old man's too old. De gov'ment gives me seven or eight dollars a month and
+I has a few chickens and gits by, and de good white folks nigh by sees dat dis
+old boy don't git cold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420059" id="nr420059"></a>420059</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/223aanneclark.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Anne Clark" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Anne Clark</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/223banneclark.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Anne Clark" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Anne Clark</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="intro"><p>MOTHER ANNE CLARK, 112 years old,
+lives at 3602 Alameda Ave., El Paso,
+Texas. She is too crippled to walk,
+but a smile lights up the tired old
+eyes that still see to sew without
+glasses. One tooth of a third set
+is in her upper gum. She is deaf,
+but can hear if you speak close to
+her ear. She says, "Lemma git my
+ears open, bofe of 'em," wets her
+finger, then pulls so hard on the
+ear lobes it seems they would be
+injured.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I'll be 112 years old, come first day of June (1937).
+Bo'n in Mississippi. I had two marsters, but I've been free
+nearly 80 years. I was freed in Memphis.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster was a Yankee. He took me to Louisiana and
+made a slave outta me. But he had to go to war. He got in
+a quarrel one day and grabbed two six-shooters, but a old
+white man got him down and nearly kilt him. Our men got him
+and gave him to the Yankees.</p>
+
+<p>"Capt. Clark, my second marster, took a shot at him and
+he couldn' come south no more. You don' know what a time I
+seen! I don' wanna see no more war. Why, we made the United
+States rich but the Yankees come and tuk it. They buried money
+and when you bury money it goes fu'ther down, down, down, and
+then you cain't fin' it.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, the white folks hated to give us up worse thing
+in the world. I ploughed, hoed, split rails. I done the hardest
+work ever a man ever did. I was so strong, iffen he needed me
+I'd pull the men down so the marster could handcuff 'em.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>
+They'd whop us with a bullwhip. We got up at 3 o'clock, at 4 we done
+et and hitched up the mules and went to the fiel's. We worked all day
+pullin' fodder and choppin' cotton. Marster'd say, 'I wan' you to lead
+dat fiel' today, and if you don' do it I'll put you in de stocks.' Then
+he'd whop me iffen I didn' know he was talkin' to me.</p>
+
+<p>"My poppa was strong. He never had a lick in his life. He
+helped the marster, but one day the marster says, 'Si, you got to have a
+whoppin', and my poppa says, 'I never had a whoppin' and you cain't whop
+me.' An' the marster says, 'But I kin kill you,' an' he shot my poppa
+down. My mama tuk him in the cabin and put him on a pallet. He died.</p>
+
+<p>"My mama did the washin' for the big house. She tuk a big tub
+on her head and a bucket of water in her hand. My mama had two white
+chillen by marster and they were sold as slaves. I had two chillen, too.
+I never married. They allus said we'd steal, but I didn' take a thing.
+Why, they'd put me on a hoss with money to take into town and I'd take
+it to the store in town, and when I'd git back, marster'd say, 'Anne,
+you didn' take a thing.'</p>
+
+<p>"When women was with child they'd dig a hole in the groun' and put
+their stomach in the hole, and then beat 'em. They'd allus whop us."</p>
+
+<p>"Don' gring me anything fine to wear for my birthday. I jus'
+wan' some candy. I'm lookin' for Him to take me away from here."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420293" id="nr420293"></a>420293</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>THOMAS COLE was born in Jackson
+Co., Alabama, on the 8th
+of August, 1845, a slave of
+Robert Cole. He ran away in
+1861 to join the Union Army.
+He fought at Chickamauga, under
+Gen. Rosecran and at Chattanooga,
+Look Out Mt. and Orchard Knob,
+under Gen. Thomas. After the
+war he worked as switchman in
+Chattanooga until his health
+failed due to old age. He then
+came to Texas and lives with his
+daughter, in Corsicana. Thomas
+is blind.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I might as well begin far back as I remember and tell you all
+about myself. I was born over in Jackson County, in Alabama, on August
+8, 1845. My mother was Elizabeth Cole, her bein' a slave of Robert Cole,
+and my father was Alex Gerrand, 'cause he was John Gerrand's slave. I
+was sposed to take my father's name, but he was sech a bad, ornery, no-count
+sech a human, I jes' taken my old massa's name. My mother was
+brung from Virginny by Massa Dr. Cole, and she nussed all his six chillen.
+My sister's name was Sarah and my brother's name was Ben and we lived in
+one room of the big house, and allus had a good bed to sleep in and good
+things to eat at the same table, after de white folks gits through.</p>
+
+<p>"I played with Massa Cole's chillen all de time, and when I got
+older he started me workin' by totin' wood and sech odd jobs, and feedin'
+de hawgs. Us chillen had to pick cotton every fall. De big baskets weigh
+about seventy-five to a hundred pounds, but us chillen put our pickin's
+in some growed slave's basket. De growed slaves was jes' like a mule.
+He work for grub and clothes, and some of dem didn't have as easier a time
+as a mule, for mules was fed good and slaves was sometimes half starved.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>
+But Massa Cole was a smart man and a good man with it. He had 'spect for
+the slaves' feelin's and didn't treat dem like dumb brutes, and 'lowed dem
+more privileges dan any other slaveholder round dere. He was one of de
+best men I ever knows in my whole life and his wife was jes' like him. Dey
+had a <a name='TC_15'></a><span class="corr" title="bit">big</span>, four-room log house with a big hall down the center up and down.
+De logs was all peeled and de chinkin' a diff'rent color from de logs and
+covered with beads. De kitchen am a one-room house behin' de big house with
+de big chimney to cook on. Dat where all de meals cooked and carry to de house.</p>
+
+<p>"In winter massa allus kill from three to four hundred hawgs, de
+two killin's he done in November and January. Some kill and stick, some scald
+and scrape, and some dress dem and cut dem up and render de lard. Dey haul
+plenty hick'ry wood to de smokehouse and de men works in shifts to keep de
+smoke fire goin' sev'ral days, den hangs de meat in de meathouse. First us eat
+all de chitlin's, den massa begin issuin' cut-back bones to each fam'ly, and
+den 'long come de spareribs, den de middlin' or a shoulder, and by dat time
+he kill de second time and dis was to go all over 'gain. Each fam'ly git de
+same kind of meat each week. Iffen one git a ham, dey all git a ham. All de
+ears and feet was pickle and we eats dem, too. If de meat run out 'fore killin'
+time, us git wild turkeys or kill a beef or a goat, or git a deer.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa let us plant pumpkins and have a acre or two for watermelons,
+iffen us work dem on Saturday evenin's. Dere a orchard of 'bout five or six
+acres peaches and apples and he 'low us to have biscuits once a week. Yes, we
+had good eatin' and plenty of it den.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa had one big, stout, healthy lookin' slave 'bout six foot, four
+inches tall, what he pay $3,000 for. He bought six slaves I knows of and give<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>
+from $400 up for dem. He never sold a slave 'less he git onruly.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa allus give us cotton clothes for summer and wool for winter,
+'cause he raised cotton and sheep. Den each fam'ly have some chickens and
+sell dem and de eggs and maybe go huntin' and sell de hides and git some
+money. Den us buy what am Sunday clothes with dat money, sech as hats and
+pants and shoes and dresses.</p>
+
+<p>"We'd git up early every day in de year, rain or shine, hot or
+cold. A slave blowed de horn and dere no danger of you not wakin' up when dat
+blowed long and loud. He climb up on a platform 'bout ten feet tall to blow
+dat bugle. We'd work till noon and eat in de shade and rest 'bout a hour or
+a little more iffen it hot, but only a hour if it cold. You is allus tired
+when you makes de day like dat on de plantation and you can't play all night
+like de young folks does now. But us lucky, 'cause Massa Cole don't whip us.
+De man what have a place next ours, he sho' whip he slaves. He have de cat-o-nine
+tails of rawhide leather platted round a piece of wood for a handle.
+De wood 'bout ten inches long and de leather braided on past de stock quite
+a piece, and 'bout a foot from dat all de strips tied in a knot and sprangle
+out, and makes de tassle. Dis am call de cracker and it am what split de hide.
+Some folks call dem bullwhips, 'stead of cat-o-nine tails. De first thing dat
+man do when he buy a slave, am give him de whippin'. He call it puttin' de
+fear of Gawd in him.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Cola 'low us read de Bible. He awful good 'bout dat. Most
+de slaveowners wouldn't 'low no sech. Uncle Dan he read to us and on Sunday
+we could go to church. De preacher baptize de slaves in de river. Dat de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>
+good, old-time 'ligion, and us all go to shoutin' and has a good time. Dis
+gen'ration too dig'fied to have de old-time 'ligion.</p>
+
+<p>"When baptizin' comes off, it almost like goin' to de circus.
+People come from all over and dey all singin' songs and everybody take dere
+lunch and have de good time. Massa Cole went one time and den he git sick,
+and next summer he die. Missy Cole, she moves to Huntsville, in Alabama.
+But she leave me on de plantation, 'cause I'm big and stout den. She takes
+my mother to cook and dat de last time I ever seed my mother. Missy Cole
+buys de fine house in Huntsville my mother tells me to be good and do all
+de overseer tells me. I told her goodbye and she never did git to come back
+to see me, and I never seed her and my brother and sister 'gain. I don't
+know whether dey am sold or not.</p>
+
+<p>"I thinks to myself, dat Mr. Anderson, de overseer, he'll give me
+dat cat-o-nine tails de first chance he gits, but makes up my mind he won't
+git de chance, 'cause I's gwine run off de first chance I gits. I didn't
+know how to git out of dere, but I's gwine north where dere ain't no slaveowners.
+In a year or so dere am 'nother overseer, Mr. Sandson, and he give me de log
+house and de gal to do my cookin' and sich. Dere am war talk and we 'gins
+gwine to de field earlier and stayin' later. Corn am haul off, cotton am haul
+off, hawgs and cattle am rounded up and haul off and things 'gins lookin' bad.
+De war am on, but us don't see none of it. But 'stead of eatin' cornbread,
+us eats bread out of kaffir corn and maize. "<a name='TC_16'></a><span class="corr" title="e">"We</span> raises lots of okra and dey
+say it gwine be parch and grind to make coffee for white folks. Dat didn't
+look good either. Dat winter, 'stead of killin' three or four hundred hawgs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
+like we allus done befo', we only done one killin' of a hundred seventy-five, and
+dey not all big ones, neither. When de meat supply runs low, Mr. Sandson sends some
+slaves to kill a deer or wild hawgs or jes' any kind of game. He never sends me
+in any dem bunches but I hoped he would and one day he calls me to go and says not
+to go off de plantation too far, but be sho' bring home some meat. Dis de chance
+I been wantin', so when we gits to de huntin' ground de leader says to scatter out,
+and I tells him me and 'nother man goes north and make de circle round de river
+and meet 'bout sundown. I crosses de river and goes north. I's gwine to de free
+country, where dey ain't no slaves. I travels all dat day and night up de river
+and follows de north star. Sev'ral times I thunk de blood houn's am trailin' me
+and I gits in de big hurry. I's so tired I couldn't hardly move, but I gits in a
+trot.</p>
+
+<p>"I's hopin' and prayin' all de time I meets up with dat Harriet Tubman woman.
+She de cullud women what takes slaves to Canada. She allus travels de underground
+railroad, dey calls it, travels at night and hides out in de day. She sho' sneaks
+dem out de South and I thinks she's de brave woman.</p>
+
+<p>"I eats all de nuts and kills a few swamp rabbits and cotches a few fish.
+I builds de fire and goes off 'bout half a mile and hides in de thicket till it
+burns down to de coals, den bakes me some fish and rabbit. I's shakin' all de time,
+'fraid I'd git cotched, but I's nearly starve to death. I puts de rest de fish in
+my cap and travels on dat night by de north star and hides in a big thicket de nex'
+day and along evenin' I hears guns shootin'. I sho' am scart dis time, sho' 'nough.
+I's scart to come in and scart to go out, and while I's standin' dere, I hears two
+men say, 'Stick you hands up, boy. What you doin?' I says, 'Uh-uh-uh, I dunno.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
+You ain't gwine take me back to de plantation, is you?' Dey says, 'No. Does
+you want to fight for de North?' I says I will, 'cause dey talks like northern
+men. Us walk night and day and gits in Gen. Rosecran's camp and dey thunk I's
+de spy from de South. Dey asks me all sorts of questions and says dey'll whip me
+if I didn't tell dem what I's spyin' 'bout. Fin'ly dey 'lieves me and puts me to
+work helpin' with de cannons. I feels 'portant den, but I didn't know what was
+in front of me, or I 'spects I'd run off 'gain.</p>
+
+<p>"I helps sot dem cannons on dis Chickamauga Mountain, in hidin' places. I has
+to go with a man and wait on him and dat cannon. First thing I knows, bang, bang,
+boom, things has started, and guns am shootin' faster dan you can think, and I looks
+round for de way to run. But dem guns am shootin' down de hill in front of me and shootin'
+at me, and over me and on both sides of me. I tries to dig me a hole and
+git in it. All dis happen right now, and first thing I knows, de man am kickin' me
+and wantin' me to holp him keep dat cannon loaded. Man, I didn't want no cannon,
+but I has to help anyway. We fit till dark and de Rebels got more men dan us, so
+Gen. Rosecran sends de message to Gen. Woods to come help us out. When de messenger
+slips off, I sho' wish it am me slippin' off, but I didn't want to see no Gen. Woods.
+I jes' wants to git back to dat old plantation and pick more cotton. I'd been willin'
+to do mos' anything to git out that mess, but I done told Gen. Rosecran I wants to
+fight de Rebels and he sho' was lettin' me do it. He wasn't jes' lettin' me do it,
+he was makin' me do it. I done got in dere and he wouldn't let me out.</p>
+
+<p>"White folks, dere was men layin' wantin' help, wantin' water, with blood
+runnin' out dem and de top or sides dere heads gone, great big holes in dem. I
+jes' promises de good Lawd if he jes' let me git out dat mess, I wouldn't run off
+no more, but I didn't know den he wasn't gwine let me out with jes' dat battle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>
+He gwine give me plenty more, but dat battle ain't over yet, for nex' mornin' de
+Rebels 'gins shootin' and killin' lots of our men, and Gen. Woods ain't come,
+so Gen. Rosecran orders us to 'treat, and didn't have to tell me what he said,
+neither. De Rebels comes after us, shootin', and we runs off and leaves dat
+cannon what I was with settin' on de hill, and I didn't want dat thing nohow.</p>
+
+<p>"We kep' hotfootin' till we gits to Chattanooga and dere is where we
+stops. Here comes one dem Rebel generals with de big bunch of men and gits right
+on top of Look Out Mountain, right clost to Chattanooga, and wouldn't let us out.
+I don't know jes' how long, but a long time. Lots our hosses and mules starves
+to death and we eats some de hosses. We all like to starve to death ourselves.
+Chattanooga is in de bend de Tennessee River and on Look Out Mountain, on de east,
+am dem Rebels and could keep up with everything we done. After a long time a Gen.
+Thomas gits in some way. He finds de rough trail or wagon road round de mountain
+'long de river and supplies and men comes by boat up de river to dis place and
+comes on into Chattanooga. More Union men kep' comin' and I guess maybe six or
+eight generals and dey gits ready to fight. It am long late in Fall or early winter.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey starts climbin' dis steep mountain and when us gits three-fourths de
+way up it am foggy and you couldn't see no place. Everything wet and de rocks am
+slick and dey 'gins fightin'. I 'spect some shoots dere own men, 'cause you couldn't
+see nothin', jes' men runnin' and de guns roarin'. Fin'ly dem Rebels fled and we
+gits on Look Out Mountain and takes it.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere a long range of hills leadin' 'way from Look Out Mountain, nearly
+to Missionary Ridge. Dis ridge 'longside de Chickamauga River, what am de Indian
+name, meanin' River of Death. Dey fights de Rebels on Orchard Knob hill and I
+wasn't in dat, but I's in de Missionary Ridge battle. We has to come out de timber<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>
+and run 'cross a strip or openin' up de hill. Dey sho' kilt lots our men when we
+runs 'cross dat openin'. We runs for all we's worth and uses guns or anything we
+could. De Rebels turns and runs off and our soldiers turns de cannons round what
+we's capture, and kilt some de Rebels with dere own guns.</p>
+
+<p>"I never did git to where I wasn't scart when we goes into de battle.
+Dis de last one I's in and I's sho' glad, for I never seed de like of dead and
+wounded men. We picks dem up, de Rebels like de Unions, and doctors dem de bes'
+we could. When I seed all dat sufferin', I hopes I never lives to see 'nother
+war. Dey say de World War am worse but I's too old to go.</p>
+
+<p>"I sho' wishes lots of times I never run off from de plantation. I begs
+de General not to send me on any more battles, and he says I's de coward and
+sympathizes with de South. But I tells him I jes' couldn't stand to see all dem
+men layin' dere dyin' and hollerin' and beggin' for help and a drink of water, and
+blood everywhere you looks. Killin' hawgs back on de plantation didn't bother me
+none, but dis am diff'rent.</p>
+
+<p>"Fin'ly de General tells me I can go back to Chattanooga and guard de supplies
+in camp dere and take care de wounded soldiers and prisoners. A bunch of men
+is with me and we has all we can do. We gits de orders to send supplies to some
+general and it my job to help load de wagons or box cars or boats. A train of wagons
+leaves sometimes. We gits all dem supplies by boat, and Chattanooga am de 'stributing
+center. When winter comes, everybody rests awhile and waits for Spring to open.
+De Union general sends in some more cullud soldiers. Dere ain't been many cullud
+men but de las' year de war dere am lots. De North and de South am takin' anything
+dey can git to win de war.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When Spring breaks and all de snow am gone, and de trees 'gins puttin'
+out and everything 'gins to look purty and peaceable-like, makin' you think you ought
+to be plowin' and plantin' a crop, dat when de fightin' starts all over 'gain, killin'
+men and burnin' homes and stealin' stock and food. Den dey sends me out to help
+clear roads and build temp'rary bridges. We walks miles on muddy ground, 'cross
+rivers, wadin' water up to our chins. We builds rafts and pole bridges to git de
+mules and hosses and cannons 'cross, and up and down hills, and cuts roads through
+timber.</p>
+
+<p>"But when dey wants to battle Gen. Thomas allus leaves me in camp to tend
+de supplies. He calls me a coward, and I sho' glad he thunk I was. I wasn't no
+coward, I jes' couldn't stand to see all dem people tore to pieces. I hears 'bout
+de battle in a thick forest and de trees big as my body jes' shot down. I seed
+dat in de Missionary Ridge battle, too.</p>
+
+<p>"I shifts from one camp to 'nother and fin'ly gits back to Chattanooga. I
+bet durin' my time I handles 'nough ammunition to kill everybody in de whole United
+States. I seed mos' de mainest generals in de Union Army and some in de Rebel Army.</p>
+
+<p>"After de war am over we's turned loose, nowhere to go and nobody to help us.
+I couldn't go South, for dey calls me de traitor and sho' kill me iffen dey knows I
+fit for de North. I does any little job I can git for 'bout a year and fin'ly gits
+work on de railroad, in Stevenson, in Alabama. I gits transfer to Chattanooga
+and works layin' new tracks and turn tables and sich.</p>
+
+<p>"In 'bout two weeks I had saw a gal next door, but I's bashful. But after
+payday I dresses up and takes her to a dance. We sparks 'bout two months and den
+we's married at her uncles. Her name am Nancy. We buys a piece of land and I
+has a two-room house built on it. We has two chillen and I's livin' with de baby
+gal now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I 'lieve de slaves I knowed as a whole was happier and better off
+after 'mancipation dan befo'. Of course, de first few years it was awful
+hard to git 'justed to de new life. All de slaves knowed how to do hard work,
+and dat de old slaves life, but dey didn't know nothin' 'bout how to 'pend
+on demselves for de livin'. My first year was hard, but dere was plenty
+wild game in dem days. De south was broke and I didn't hear of no slaves
+gittin' anything but to crop on de halves. Dey too glad to be free and didn't
+want nothin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Things 'gin to git bad for me in Chattanooga as de white men finds
+out I run off from de South and jined de North. Some de brakemen try to git
+my job. I fin'ly quits when one of dem opens a switch I jus' closed. I seed
+him and goes back and fixes de switch, but I quits de job. I goes up north
+but dey ain't int'rested, so I comes back and sells my home and buys me a
+team and wagon. I loads it with my wife and chillen and a few things and starts
+for Texas. We's on de road 'bout six weeks or two months. We fishes and hunts
+every day and de trip didn't cost much. I buys ninety acres in timber in Cass
+County and cuts logs for a house and builds a two-room house and log crib. My
+wife built a stomp lot for de team and cow and a rail fence.</p>
+
+<p>"We got 'nough land cleared for de small crop, 'bout thirty acres, and
+builds de barn and sheds outselves. We lived there till de chillen am growed.
+My wife died of chills and fever and den my boy and I built a four-room house
+of planks from our timber. Den I gits lonesome, 'cause de chillen gone, and
+sells de place. I bought it for fifty cents de acre and sold it for $12.00
+de acre.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I buys sixty acres in Henderson County for $15.00 a acre and marries
+de second time. I didn't care for her like Nancy. All she think 'bout
+am raisin' de devil and never wants to work or save anything. She like to
+have broke me down befo' I gits rid of her. I stayed and farmed sev'ral years.</p>
+
+<p>"My son-in-law rents land in Chambers Creek bottom, and he usually
+gits he crop 'fore de flood gits it. We has some hawgs to kill ev'ry winter
+and we has our cornmeal and milk and eggs and chickens, so de 'pression ain't
+starved us yit. We all got might' nigh naked durin' de 'pression. I feeds
+de hawgs and chickens night and mornin'. I can't see dem, but I likes to listen
+to dem eatin' and cackle. People don't know how dey's blessed with good eyes,
+till dey loses dem. Everybody ought to be more thankful dan they is.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't never voted in my life. I leans to de 'publicans. I don't
+know much 'bout politics, though.</p>
+
+<p>"Today I is broke, 'cause I spent all my money for med'cine and
+doctors, but I gits a small pension and I spends it mos' careful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420270" id="nr420270"></a>420270</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ELI COLEMAN, 91, was born a
+slave of George Brady, in
+Kentucky. Eli's memory is
+poor and his story is somewhat
+sketchy. He now lives
+in Madisonville, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I has a old bill of sale, and it shows I's born in 1846 and
+my massa am George Brady. I know my pappy's name was same as mine,
+and mammy was Ella, and I had one brother named Sam, and my sisters
+was Sadie and Rosa and Viola. They's all dead now.</p>
+
+<p>"Pappy was owned by Massa Coleman, what was brother to Massa
+Brady. Pappy could only see mammy once a week when he's courtin' for
+her. I heard pappy tell 'bout his pappy, over in Africy, and he had
+near a hundred wives and over three hundred chillen.</p>
+
+<p>"Pappy never did work. All he ever did was trade. He'd make one
+thing and 'nother and trade it for something to eat. He could get lots of
+fruit and game out of the woods them days, and there was lots of fish.</p>
+
+<p>"Our log house was built of logs, trimmed, and had six rooms. It was
+long, like a cowbarn or chicken house, and my room was third. We had one
+door to each room, covered over with hides. We dug out one corner for the
+bed and fenced it up and gathered straw and moss and tore-up corn shucks,
+and put in the corner to sleep on. What I mean, it was a warm bed.</p>
+
+<p>"We did all kinds of work, choppin' cotton and split rails and cut
+rock, and work in the tobacco field. We'd cut that tobacco and hang it in
+the shed to dry. It had to be hanged by the stubble end.</p>
+
+<p>"We had plenty to eat, sech as corn pones. The corn was grated by
+hand and cooked in ashes, and no salt or soda or fancy things like they put
+in bread now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There was possum and rabbit and we cooked them different to now.
+A great big, old pot hung over the old rock fireplace. Food cooked that way
+still eats good. Massa Brady allus give us lots out of the garden. He fed
+us reg'lar on good, 'stantial food, jus' like you'd tend to you hoss, if you
+had a real good one.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Brady, he was one these jolly fellows and a real good man, allus
+good to his black folks. Missy, she was plumb angel. They lived in a old stone
+house with four big rooms. It was the best house in the whole county and lots
+of shade trees by it.</p>
+
+<p>"We had 'bout a hundred acres in our plantation and started to the field
+'fore daylight and worked long as we could see, and fed ane stock and got to
+bed 'bout nine o'clock. Massa whopped a slave if he got stubborn or lazy. He
+whopped one so hard that slave said he'd kill him. So Massa done put a chain
+round his legs, so he jus' hardly walk, and he has to work in the field that
+way. At night he put 'nother chain round his neck and fastened it to a tree.
+After three weeks massa turnt him loose and that the proudes' nigger in the
+world, and the hardes' workin' nigger massa had after that.</p>
+
+<p>"On Saturday night we could git a pass or have a party on our own place.
+Through the week we'd fall into our quarters and them patterrollers come walk
+all over us, and we'd be plumb still, but after they done gone some niggers
+gits up and out.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas Day massa make a great big eggnog and let us have all we
+wants with a big dinner. He kilt a yearlin' and made plenty barbecue for us.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Massa was a colonel in the war and took me along to care for his hoss
+and gun. Them guns, you couldn't hear nothin' for them poppin'. Us niggers
+had to go all over and pick up them what got kilt. Them what was hurt we carried
+back. Them what was too bad hurt we had to carry to the burying place
+and the white man'd finish killin' them, so we could roll them in the hole.</p>
+
+<p>"When massa say we're free, we all 'gun to take on. We didn't have
+no place to go and asked massa could we stay, but he say no. But he did let
+some stay and furnished teams and something to eat and work on the halves.
+I stayed and was sharecropper, and that was when slavery start, for when we
+got our cop made it done take every bit of it to pay our debts and we had
+nothing left to buy winter clothes or pay doctor bills.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout a year after the war I marries Nora Brady, jus' a home weddin'.
+I asks her to come live with me as my wife and she 'greed and she jus' moved
+her clothes to my room and we lived together a long time. One mornin' Nora
+jus' died, and there warn't no chillen, so I sets out for Texas. I done hear
+the railroad is buildin' in Texas and they hires lots of niggers. I gits a hoss
+from massa and rolls up a few clothes and gits my gun.</p>
+
+<p>"I never got very far 'fore the Indians takes my hoss away from me.
+It was 'bout fifty mile to a train and I didn't have no money, but I found a
+white man what wants wood cut and I works near a month for him and gits $2.00.
+I gits on a train and comes a hundred mile from where that railroad was goin'
+'cross the country, and I has to walk near all that hundred miles. Once and
+now a white man comin' or goin' lets me ride. But I got there and the job pays
+me sixty cents a day. That was lots of money them days. Near as I 'member, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>
+was 1867 or 1868 when I comes to Texas.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I marries Agnes Frazer, and we has a big weddin' and a preacher
+and a big supper for two or three weeks. Her pappy kilt game and we et barbecue
+all the time. We had eleven chillen, one a year for a long time, five boys and
+six gals. One made a school teacher and I ain't seen her nearly forty-five
+years, 'cause she done took a notion to go north and they won't let her back in
+Texas 'cause she married a white man in New York. I don't like that. She don't
+have no sense or she wouldn't done that, no, sir.</p>
+
+<p>"Since the nigger been free it been Hell on the poor old nigger. He has
+advance some ways, but he's still a servant and will be, long as Gawd's curse still
+stay on the Negro race. We was turnt loose without nothin' and done been under
+the white man rule so long we couldn't hold no job but labor. I worked most two
+years on that railroad and the rest my life I farms. Now I gits a little pension
+from the gov'ment and them white folks am sho' good to give it to me, 'cause I
+ain't good for work no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420003" id="nr420003"></a>420003</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/240preelycoleman.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Preely Coleman" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Preely Coleman</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>PREELY COLEMAN was born in 1852
+on the Souba farm, near New Berry,
+South Carolina, but he and his
+mother were sold and brought to
+Texas when Preely was a month old.
+They settled near Alto, Texas.
+Preely now lives in Tyler.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I'm Preely Coleman and I never gits tired of talking. Yes,
+ma'am, it am Juneteenth, but I'm home, 'cause I'm too old now to
+go on them celerabrations. Where was I born? I knows that 'zactly,
+'cause my mammy tells me that a thousand times. I was born down on
+the old Souba place, in South Carolina, 'bout ten mile from New Berry.
+My mammy belonged to the Souba family, but its a fact one of the Souba
+boys was my pappy and so the Soubas sells my mammy to Bob and Dan Lewis
+and they brung us to Texas 'long with a big bunch of other slaves.
+Mammy tells me it was a full month 'fore they gits to Alto, their new
+home.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was a chile I has a purty good time, 'cause there was
+plenty chillen on the plantation. We had the big races. Durin' the war
+the sojers stops by on the way to Mansfield, in Louisiana, to git somethin'
+to eat and stay all night, and then's when we had the races. There
+was a mulberry tree we'd run to and we'd line up and the sojers would
+say, 'Now the first one to slap that tree gits a quarter,' and I nearly
+allus gits there first. I made plenty quarters slappin' that old mulberry
+tree!</p>
+
+<p>"So the chillen gits into their heads to fix me, 'cause I wins
+all the quarters. They throws a rope over my head and started draggin
+down the road, and down the hill, and I was nigh 'bout choked to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>
+death. My only friend was Billy and he was a-fightin', tryin' to git me
+loose. They was goin' to throw me in the big spring at the foot of that
+hill, but we meets Capt. Berryman, a white man, and he took his knife and
+cut the rope from my neck and took me by the heels and soused me up and
+down in the spring till I come to. They never tries to kill me any more.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy done married John Selman on the way to Texas, no
+cere'mony, you knows, but with her massa's consent. Now our masters, the
+Lewises, they loses their place and then the Selman's buy me and mammy.
+They pays $1,500 for my mammy and I was throwed in.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Selman has five cabins in he backyard and they's built
+like half circle. I grows big 'nough to hoe and den to plow. We has to
+be ready for the field by daylight and the conk was blowed, and massa
+call out, 'All hands ready for the field.' At 11:30 he blows the conk,
+what am the mussel shell, you knows, 'gain and we eats dinner, and at
+12:30 we has to be back at work. But massa wouldn't 'low no kind of work
+on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Tom made us wear the shoes, 'cause they's so many snags
+and stumps our feets gits sore, and they was red russet shoes. I'll never
+forgit 'em, they was so stiff at first we could hardly stand 'em. But
+Massa Tom was a good man, though he did love he dram. He kep' the bottle
+in the center of the dining table all the time and every meal he'd have
+the toddy. Us slaves et out under the trees in summer and in the kitchen
+in winter and most gen'rally we has bread in pot liquor or milk, but sometimes
+honey.</p>
+
+<p>"I well 'members when freedom come. We was in the field and massa
+comes up and say, 'You all is free as I is.' There was shoutin' and singin'
+and 'fore night us was all 'way to freedom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420292" id="nr420292"></a>420292</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>HARRIET COLLINS was born in
+Houston, Texas, in 1870. Her
+family had been slaves of
+Richard Coke, and remained
+with him many years after
+they were freed. Harriet
+recalls some incidents of
+Reconstruction days, and
+believes in the superstitions
+handed down to her
+from slave days.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My birthday done come in January, on de tenth. I's birthed in
+Houston, in 1870, and Gov. Richard Coke allus had owned my daddy and
+mammy, and dey stayed with him after freedom. Mammy, what was Julia
+Collins, didn't die till 1910, and she was most a hundred year old.</p>
+
+<p>"She done told me many a time 'bout how folkses git all worked up
+over Marse Coke's 'lection. Mammy took lunch to de Capitol House to
+Marse Richard, and dere he am on de top floor with all he congressmen
+and dat Davis man and he men on de bottom floor, tryin' to say Marse
+Richard ain't got no right to be governor dis here State. Old Miss
+and de folkses didn't sleep a wink dat night, 'cause dey thunk it sho'
+be a fight. Dat in 1873, Mammy allus say.</p>
+
+<p>"De old place at Houston was like most all old places. Dere was
+little, small dormer windows, dey call 'em, in upstairs, and big porches
+everywhere. Dere was 'hogany furniture and rosewood bedsteads, and big,
+black walnut dressers with big mirrors and little ones down de side. Old
+Miss allus have us keep de drapes white as drifted snow, and polish de
+furniture till it shine. Dere was sofies with dem claw foots, and lots
+of purty chiny and silver.</p>
+
+<p>"On de farm out from town dere was de log house, with quarters and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>
+de smokehouse and washhouse and big barns and carriage house. De quarters
+was little, whitewashed, log houses, one for de family, and a fence of de
+split palin's round most of dem.</p>
+
+<p>"De white and cullud chillen played together, all over de place. Dey
+went fishin' and rode de plough hosses and run de calves and colts and sech
+devilment. De little white gals all had to wear sunbonnets, and Old Miss, she
+sew dem bonnets on every day, so dey not git sunburnt. Us niggers weared de
+long, duckin' shirts till us git 'bout growed, and den us weared long, dark
+blue dresses. Dey had spinnin' and weavin' rooms, where de cullud women makes
+de clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Miss, she sho' a powerful manager. She knowed jes' how much meal
+and meat and sorghum it gwine take to run de plantation a year. She know jes'
+how much thread it take for spinnin', and she bossed de settin' hens and turkeys
+and fixin' of 'serves and soap. She was sho' good to you iffen you work and do
+like she tell you. Many a night she go round to see dat all was right. She a
+powerful good nuss, too, and so was mammy.</p>
+
+<p>"De white folks had good times. Dey'd go hossback ridin' and on picnics,
+and fishin' and have big dinners and balls. Come Christmas, dey have us slaves
+cut a big lot of wood and keep fires all night for a week or two. De house be
+lit with candles from top to toe, and lots of company come. For dinner us have
+turkey and beef roast and a big 'ginny ham and big bowls of eggnog and a pitcher
+of apple cider and apple toddy. All us git somethin' on Christmas and plenty
+eggnog, but no gittin' drunk.</p>
+
+<p>"I can jes' see Marse Dick, tall and kinder stooped like, with de big
+flop hat and longtail coat and allus carryin' a big, old walkin' stick. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>
+was sho' a brave man and de big men say dey likes dat flop hat, 'cause dey
+done follow it on de battlefield. He had a big voice and dey do tell how, in
+de war, he'd holler, 'Come on, boys,' and de bullets be like hail and men
+fallin' all round, but dat don't stop Marse Dick. He'd take off dat flop hat
+and plunge right on and dey'd foller he bald head where de fight was hottes'.
+He was sho' a man!</p>
+
+<p>"When I gits married it was eight folkses dere, I jus' walks off and
+goes to housekeepin'. I had a calico dress and a Baptist preacher marries us.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere been some queer things white folks can't understand. Dere am folkses
+can see de spirits, but I can't. My mammy larned me a lots of doctorin', what
+she larnt from old folkses from Africy, and some de Indians larnt her. If you has
+rheumatism, jes' take white sassafras root and bile it and drink de tea. You
+makes lin'ment by bilin' mullein flowers and poke roots and alum and salt.
+Put red pepper in you shoes and keep de chills off, or string briars round de
+neck. Make red or black snakeroot tea to cure fever and malaria, but git de
+roots in de spring when de sap am high.</p>
+
+<p>"When chillen teethin' put rattlesnake rattles round de neck, and alligator
+teeth am good, too. Show de new moon money and you'll have money all month. Throw
+her five kisses and show her money and make five wishes and you'll git dem. Eat
+black-eyed peas on New Year and have luck all dat year:</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Dose black-eyed peas is lucky,<br />
+When et on New Year's Day;<br />
+You'll allus have sweet 'taters<br />
+And possum come you way.'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"When anybody git cut I allus burns woolen rags and smokes de wound or
+burns a piece fat pine and drops tar from it on scorched wool and bind it on de
+wound. For headache put a horseradish poultice on de head, or wear a nutmeg on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>
+a string round you neck.</p>
+
+<p>If you kills de first snake you sees in spring, you enemies ain't gwine git
+de best of you dat year. For a sprain, git a dirt dauber's nest and put de clay
+with vinegar and bind round de sprain. De dime on de string round my ankle keeps
+cramps out my leg, and tea from red coon-root good, too. All dese doctorin'
+things come clear from Africy, and dey allus worked for mammy and for me, too.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420187" id="nr420187"></a>420187</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ANDREW (Smoky) COLUMBUS was born
+in 1859 on the John J. Ellington
+plantation, one mile south of
+Linden, Texas. He continued in
+the service of the Ellingtons
+until about 1878, when he moved
+to Jefferson, Texas. He carried
+meals to Abe Rothchild, who was
+in jail, charged with the murder
+of Diamond Bessie Moore. Andrew
+was 37 years a servant of Hon.
+Tom Armistead, and was a porter
+in the Capital at Austin when
+Armistead was a senator. Andrew
+now lives in Marshall, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was bo'n a slave of Master John Ellington, who lived
+in Davis County (now Cass Co.), Texas. Master John had a big house
+and close by was a long, double row of slave quarters. It looked
+like a town. There was four boys and two girls in Master's fam'ly
+and one daughter, Miss Lula, married Lon Morris, that run the Lon
+Morris School.</p>
+
+<p>"Master John was one white man that sho' took care of his
+niggers. He give us plenty warm clothes and good shoes, and come
+see us and had Dr. Hume doctor us when we was sick. The niggers et
+ham and middlin' and good eats as anybody. Master John's place
+joined the Haggard place, where they was lots of wild turkey and
+the slaves could go huntin' and fishin' when they wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a church and a school for the slaves and the white
+folks helped us git book learnin'. Mos' of the niggers allus went
+to preachin' on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>"The hands didn't work Saturday afternoons. That's when we'd
+wash our clothes and clean up for Sunday. There was parties and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>
+dances on Saturday night for them as wanted them. But there wasn't
+no whiskey drinkin' and fightin' at the parties. Mammy didn't go to
+them. She was religious and didn't believe in dancin' and sech like.
+On Christmas Master John allus give the slaves a big dinner and it
+didn't seem like slavery time. The niggers had a sight better time
+than they do now.</p>
+
+<p>"Master John did all the bossin' hisself. None of his niggers
+ever run off 'cause he was too good for them to do that. I only got
+one whippin' from him and it was for stealin' eggs from a hen's nest.
+My pappy was carriage driver for Master. I didn't do much of the work
+when I was a boy, jes' stayed round the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Master John raised lots of cotton and after it was baled he
+hauled it to Jefferson on ox wagons. I'd allus go with him, ridin' on
+top of the bales. I'll never forgit how scared I was when we'd cross
+Black Cypress on Roger's Ferryboat and it'd begin to rock.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember much about the War. When it was over Master
+John calls all his slaves together and says, 'You'se free now and you
+can go or stay.' He told the men who wanted to leave they could have
+a wagon and team, but most of them stayed. Pappy took a wagon and team
+and left but mammy and us children stayed and lived with Master Ellington
+'bout 15 years after the war was over.</p>
+
+<p>"When I left Master John I moved to Jefferson and married Cora
+Benton and we had three boys and two girls. While I was in Jefferson
+Sheriff Vine goes to Cincinnati after Abe Rothchild, for killin' 'Diamond
+Bessie.' Abe shot hisself in the forehead when he heared Sheriff<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>
+Vine was after him, but it didn't kill him. There was sho' some
+stirrin' about when the sheriff fotch Abe back to Jefferson.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Sam Brown was the jailer. Abe wouldn't eat the jail
+food and hired me to bring his meals to him from the hotel. His
+cell was fixed up like a hotel room, with a fine brussels rug and
+nice tables and chairs. He kep' plenty of whiskey and beer to drink.
+He'd allus give me a drink when I took his meals.</p>
+
+<p>"I worked 37 years for Mr. Tom Armistead, who helped W.T.
+Crawford and his brother defend Rothchild. Mr. Eppenstadt, he was
+mayor of Jefferson then and acted as a go-between man in the case.</p>
+
+<p>"Master Tom Armistead never married and I kep' house and cooked
+for him. He give me lots of fine clothes. I bet I owned more fine
+shirts than any nigger in Texas. He got me a job as porter in the
+Capitol at Austin while he was senator. I was workin' there when they
+moved in the new Capitol in 1888. They was gonna put on a big party
+and say all the porters had to wear cutaway suits. I didn't have one,
+so the day 'fore the party I goes over to Mr. Tom's room at the Bristol
+Hotel and git one of his. I didn't know then it was a right new
+one he had made for the party. When I goes back to the Capitol all
+dressed up in that cutaway suit, I meets Mr. Templeton Houston and he
+recognises the suit and says. 'You sho' look fine in Mr. Tom's new suit,'
+'bout that time Mr. Tom walks up and, you know, he give me that suit
+and had him another one made for the party! I wouldn't live where there
+wasn't no good white folks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420218" id="nr420218"></a>420218</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/249steveconnally.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Steve Conally" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Steve Conally</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/249steveconnallyshouse.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Steve Conally&#39;s House" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Steve Conally&#39;s House</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>STEVE CONNALLY, 90, was born
+a slave of Tom Connally, grandfather
+of United States Senator
+Tom Connally, from Texas. The
+family then lived in Georgia,
+and Steve's master was a member
+of the Georgia Legislature.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born in Murray County, Georgia, and was a slave of Massa
+Tom Connally, but they called him Massa "Cushi" Connally. He was a member
+of de Georgia Legislature. I stayed with Missy Mary Connally till I was
+sixty-seven and Massa Cushi died when I was sixty-nine.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother, Mandy, weighed two hundred pounds and she was de Connally
+cook. When I was born, she took de fever and couldn't raise me, so Missy
+Mary took and kep' me in a li'l cot by her bed. After dat, I'm with her
+nearly all de time and follows her. When she go to de garden I catches her
+dresstail and when she go to de doctor, 'bout eighty miles away, I goes with
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"I mus' tell you why everybody call Massa Connally Cushi. Dere am
+allus so many Tom Connallys in de fam'ly, dey have to have de nickname to
+tell one from de other.</p>
+
+<p>"Back dere in Georgia, us have lots and lots of fruit. Come time, de
+women folks preserves and cans till it ain't no use. My mammy take de prize
+any day with her jelly and sech, and her cakes jes' nachelly walk off and
+leave de whole county. Missy Mary sho' de master hand hersef at de fine
+bakin' and I'd slip round and be handy to lick out de pans.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey didn't have no 'frigerators den, but dey built log houses without
+a floor over de good, cold spring, and put flat rocks dere to keep de milk
+and cream and butter cold. Or dey dig out de place so de crock be down in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>
+de wet dirt. Dey sho' have to make de latch up high, so de bad chillen
+couldn't open dat door!</p>
+
+<p>"De plantation in Georgia was de whopper. I don't know 'zactly how
+many acres, but it a big one. Us make everything and tan hides and make
+shoes, jes' like all de big places did. De big house and de weavin' house
+and de tannin' yard and de sugar mill and slave quarters made a li'l town.
+Dere used to be some mighty big doin's dere. De Connally men and women am
+allus good lookers and mighty pop'lar, and folkses come from far and near
+to visit dem. All de 'portant men come and all de sassiety belles jes'
+drift to our place. Dere sho' lots of big balls and dinners and de house
+fix mighty fine dem times. De women wore de hoop skirts and de ribbons
+and laces. My missy was de bes' lookin' from far and near, and all de
+gem'mans want to dance with her. She sho' look like de queen you see in
+de picture books and she have mighty high ways with folks, but she's mighty
+good to dis here li'l black boy.</p>
+
+<p>"I goes in de buggy with Massa Cushi, up to Tennessee, to git his sons
+what been kilt or wounded. Massa Ned, he dead, and Massa Charles, he shot
+in de hip, and die after he git brung home. Massa Dick hurt, too, but he
+didn't die.</p>
+
+<p>"Right after de Civil War, when I'm 'bout nineteen, I comes to Texas
+with de Connallys, all what didn't git kilt in de war. I stays with Missy
+Mary till she die in Georgia. Her son, Jones Connally, come to Brazos County,
+near Bryan, and after dat removes to Eddy. I works for him two years and
+has lived round Eddy ever since. De Connallys give me a house and lot in Eddy.
+Some de fool niggers 'spected a lot, but I wasn't worryin' none. All I wanted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>
+was to stay near de Connallys. Mos' gen'ly all de slaves what I knowed
+was found places for and holp git a start at jobs and places to live. All
+de Connally slaves loved dem. Some de timber land give to Mrs. Rose Staten
+and when she go up dere a old nigger woman name Lucy sees her. She so
+happy to see one dem Connally chillen she laugh and cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Jones Connally have de twin gals, name Ola and Ella. Olla
+born with de lef' arm off at de elbow and she allus follow me round. When
+I go to milk I puts her in de trough. I saved her life lots of times. One
+time she's on de <a name='TC_17'></a><span class="corr" title="conb">cone</span> of de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years old.
+I eases up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me. 'Nother
+time, I's diggin' de well and some clods falls down and I looks up and dere
+am dat Missy Ola leanin' over, mos' tumblin' in de well on her head. I gives
+de loud yell and her brother-in-law come runnin' and grabs her legs.</p>
+
+<p>"Senator Tom Connally, what am a son of Jones Connally, often says he'd
+like to visit his grandpa's old home in Georgia. I'd like mighty well to go
+with him and take him all over de old home place and out to de old cemetary."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420079" id="nr420079"></a>420079</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/252valmarcormier.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Valmar Cormier" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Valmar Cormier</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>VALMAR CORMIER was born a slave
+to Duplissent Dugat, a small slave-holder
+of Lafayette, Louisiana. He
+tells his story in a mixture of English
+and French. As far as he knows,
+he is nearly 90 years old. He now
+lives with his sister, Mary Moses,
+in the Pear Orchard Settlement, in
+Beaumont, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I 'member de day my old marster go to de war. I kin 'member
+dat jes' like yesterday. He used to like to play de fiddle and make
+me dance when I was li'l, but he went to de war and got kilt. He name
+Duplissent Dugat. Mary, my sister, she don't 'member de old marster.</p>
+
+<p>"De slaves did de work on dat farm. Dey was two growed-ups,
+my mama, Colaste, and my uncle, and dere was us two chillen. My father
+was a white man, a white Creole man. I never carry he name till after
+freedom.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster was jes' a poor man and he have jes' a ordinary house.
+De slave house was jes' a old plank house 'bout twelve feet by twenty
+feet and have dirt floor. Us cook in de big fireplace and take a log
+'bout four foot long and have a big iron pot with a iron lid. Dey put
+red hot coals under de pot and on top de lid and dey have a big iron
+poker with a hook on it what dey took de lid off with.</p>
+
+<p>"Befo' dey have coal oil lamp dey used to use homemake candles.
+Dey'd kill de brutes and keep and save all de tallow and one day was
+set off to make de candles. All de neighbors come and dey have kind
+of party and eat and things. Sometime dey make three, four hunnerd
+candles in one day and lay dem in a big box, so dey won't git break.</p>
+
+<p>"Us make soap on de plantation, too. Dey melt de tallow and
+cracklin's and git lye out de fireplace ash. We have cotton and corn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>
+and potatoes growin', so we has plenty to eat. Us have
+coosh-coosh, dat cornbread and meat, and some fish to eat. Snails
+us jes' go through de woods and pick dem up and eat dem jes' like dat.
+Us eat plenty crawfish. De chillen git string and old piece fat meat
+and tie on de end, and us go to de bog and drap de string down dat
+crawfish hole. When de old man grab de meat with he pincher, den us
+jerk us up a crawfish, and bile him in hot water, or make de gumbo.</p>
+
+<p>"Us drink French coffee befo' de war, but endurin' de war
+us couldn't git de good kind. Den us make coffee out of coffee weed.
+Dey parch dat weed in de iron oven, grind it and put it in de iron pot.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed de sojers and I run under de house, I was so scared.
+Mary, she hide under de bed in de house. De Yankees come take de
+cattle and went 'way with dem. I kin sho' rec'lect when dose sojers
+come and de road was full goin' day and night. De Yankees find a lot
+of Confed'rate sojers close to Duson, de other side of Rayne and dey
+captures lots and brung dem back by dere.</p>
+
+<p>"After while it all over and dey told us we free, but my
+mama kep' working for old missus after freedom, 'cause old marster,
+he kilt in dat war. Den old missus die and left three li'l chillen,
+but I don't know what happen to them, 'cause us go to another place
+and I plow and Mary she he'p pick cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"I git marry at 20 and my first wife de French gal. We
+marry by de priest in de church. Us have so many chillen us have to
+keep a map to account for all dem, dere was 19 in all. We stays in
+Louisiana long time, den come to Texas.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420296" id="nr420296"></a>420296</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>LAURA CORNISH was born on
+the plantation of Isaiah Day,
+near Dayton, Texas. She
+"reckons I's 'bout twelve or
+maybe thirteen years old when
+all de cullud folks was made
+free." Laura's memory is poor,
+but she made an effort to recall
+slave days. She lives at
+2915 Nance St., Houston, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Lawd have mercy 'pon me, when you calls me Aunt Laura it seems
+jes' like you must be some of my white folks, 'cause dat what dey calls
+me. I mean Papa Day's chillen and dere younguns, when dey comes to see
+me. But it been de long time since any of dem come to see old Aunt Laura,
+and I reckon dey most all gone now.</p>
+
+<p>"You know where Dayton is at? Well, dat's where Papa Day's plantation
+was at and where I's borned. I don't know when dat am, 'zactly, but
+when all de cullud folks was made free, I reckons I's 'bout twelve or thirteen
+years old.</p>
+
+<p>"Mama's name was Maria Dunlap and daddy's name was Saul. Mamma was
+de seamstress and don't do nothin' but weave cloth on de spinnin' wheel
+and make clothes. Daddy from Lake Providence, I heared him say, but I don't
+know where at dat is. He do all de carpenter work. I has five sisters and
+two brothers, but dey heaps older dan me and I don't know much 'bout dem.</p>
+
+<p>"We 'longs to Papa Day, his name Isaiah, but us all call him Papa Day,
+'cause he won't 'low none he cullud folks to call him master. He say us
+is born free as he is, only de other white folks won't tell us so, and our
+souls is jes' as white, and de reason us am darker on de outside is 'cause
+us is sunburnt. I don't reckon dere am anybody as good to dere cullud folks
+as he was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Miss Martha, he wife, was mighty good, too. Does any us chillen git
+hurt or scratched, she fix us up and give us a hug. I knows dey has two boys and
+a gal, and dey comes to see me long time after I's free and brings dere own chillen.
+But my mem'ry am sort of foggy-like and I can't 'member dere names now.</p>
+
+<p>"De only work Papa Day 'lows us chillen do am pick de boles close to de
+ground, and dat mostly fun, and us ride to de house on de wagon what takes de
+pickin' at night. Papa Day don't make he cullud folks work Saturdays and Sundays
+and dey can visit round on other plantations, and he say nobody better bother us
+none, either.</p>
+
+<p>"One time us chillen playin' out in de woods and seed two old men what
+look like wild men, sho' 'nough. Dey has long hair all over de face and dere shirts
+all bloody. Us run and tell Papa Day and he makes us take him dere and he goes in
+de briar patch where dem men hidin'. Dey takes him round de knees and begs him do he
+not tell dere massa where dey at, 'cause dey maybe git kilt. Dey say dey am old
+Lodge and Baldo and dey run 'way 'cause dere massa whips dem, 'cause dey so old dey
+can't work good no more. Papa Day has tears comin' in he eyes. Dey can't hardly
+walk, so he sends dem to de house and has Aunt Mandy, de cook, fix up somethin' to
+eat quick. I never seed sech eatin', dey so hongry. He puts dem in a house and
+tells us not to say nothin'. Den he rides off on he hoss and goes to dere massa
+and tells him 'bout it, and jes' dares him to come git dem. He pays de man some
+money and Lodge and Baldo stays with Papa Day and I guess day thunk dey in Heaven.</p>
+
+<p>"One mornin' Papa Day calls all us to de house and reads de freedom
+papers and say, 'De gov'ment don't need to tell you you is free, 'cause you been
+free all you days. If you wants to stay you can and if you wants to go, you can.
+But if you go, lots of white folks ain't gwine treat you like I does.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For de longest time, maybe two years, dey wasn't none of Papa Day's
+cullud folks what left, but den first one fam'ly den 'nother gits some land to
+make a crop on, and den daddy gits some land and us leaves, too. Maybe he gits
+de land from Papa Day, 'cause it an't far from his plantation. Us sho' work
+hard on dat place, but I heared mama say lots of times she wishes we stay on
+Papa Day's place.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member one year us don't make no crop hardly and daddy say he gwine
+git out 'fore us starves to death, and he moves to Houston. He gits a job doin'
+carpenter work and hires me out for de housegirl. But mama dies and daddy takes
+sick and dies, too. Lawd have mercy, dat sho' de hard time for me when I loses
+my mama and daddy, and I has to go to Dayton and stay with my sister, Rachel.
+Both my husbands what I marries done been dead a long time now, and de only child
+I ever had died when he jes' a baby. Now I's jes' alone, sittin' and waitin' for
+de Lawd to call me."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420260" id="nr420260"></a>420260</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/257johncrawford.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="John Crawford" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">John Crawford</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOHN CRAWFORD, 81, was born
+a slave on Judge Thompson
+Rector's plantation at Manor,
+Texas. After emancipation,
+John was a share-cropper. He
+has always lived in Travis
+County and is now cared for
+by a daughter at Austin.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"John Crawford am me. It am eighty-one years since I's borned
+and dat's on de old Rector plantation where Manor am now. It wasn't
+dere den. I knowed the man it was named after.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma's name was Viney Rector and the old judge brung her from
+Alabama. She milked all the cows two times a day and I had to turn out
+all de calves. Sometimes dey'd git purty rough and go right to dere
+mammies.</p>
+
+<p>"Pap's name was Tom Townes, 'cause he 'longed on de Townes place.
+He was my step-pap and when I's growed I tooken my own pap's name, what
+was Crawford. I never seed him, though, and didn't know nothin' much
+'bout him. He's sold away 'fore I's borned.</p>
+
+<p>"Pap Townes could make most everythin'. He made turnin' plows and
+hossshoe nails and a good lot of furniture. He was purty good to me,
+'siderin' he wasn't my own pap. I didn't have no hard time, noway. I
+had plenty bacon and side-meat and 'lasses. Every Sunday mornin' the
+jedge give us our rations for de week. He wasn't short with dem, neither.</p>
+
+<p>"Many was de time Injuns come to Jedge Rector's place. Dem Injuns
+beg for somethin' and the jedge allus give dem somethin'. They wasn't
+mean Injuns, jes' allus beggin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I can't read and write to this day. Nobody ever larnt me my
+A B C's and I didn't git no chance at school.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas mornin' Massa Rector come out and give each man and
+woman a big, red pocket handkerchief and a bottle of liquor. He buyed dat
+liquor by de barrel and liked it hisself. <a name='TC_18'></a><span class="corr" title="Day">Dat</span> why he allus had it on de
+place.</p>
+
+<p>"One mornin' the jedge done send word down by de cook for nobody
+to go to de fields dat day. We all want up to de big house and de jedge
+git up to make de speech, but am too choke up to talk. He hated to lose
+he slaves, I reckon. So his son-in-law has to say, 'You folks am now free
+and can go where you wants to go. You can stay here and pick cotton and git
+fifty cents de hunerd.' But only two families stayed. De rest pulled out.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom we rented land on de halves. Some niggers soon got
+ahead and rented on de third or fourth. When you rent that-a-way you git
+three bales and de boss git one. But you has to buy you own teams and
+seed and all on dat plan.</p>
+
+<p>"Its a fac' we was told we'd git forty acres and a mule. Dat de talk
+den, but we never did git it.</p>
+
+<p>"De Ku Klux made a lot of devilment round-about dat county. Dey allus
+chasin' some nigger and beatin' him up. But some dem niggers sho' 'serve
+it. When dey gits free, dey gits wild. Dey won't work or do nothin' and
+thinks dey don't have to. We didn't have no trouble, 'cause we stays
+on de farm and works and don't have no truck with dem wild niggers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"In 1877 I marries Fannie Black at de town of Sprinkle. It wasn't
+sech a town, jes' a li'l place. Me and her stayed married fifty-two years and
+four months. She died and left me eight year ago. We had seven chillen
+and they is all livin'. Four is here in Austin and two in California and one
+in Ohio.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits a li'l pension, $9.00 de month, and my gal, Susie, takes
+care of me. I ain't got long to go now 'fore de Lawd gwine call me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420076" id="nr420076"></a>420076</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/260greencumby.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Green Cumby" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Green Cumby</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>GREEN CUMBY, 86, was born a
+slave of the Robert H. Cumby
+family, in Henderson, Texas.
+He was about 14 at the close
+of the Civil War. He stayed
+with his old master four years
+after he was freed, then married
+and settled in Tyler, Texas,
+where he worked for the compress
+30 years. He lives with his
+daughter at 749 Mesquite St.,
+Abilene, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Durin' slavery I had purty rough times. My grandfather,
+Tater Cumby, was cullud overseer for forty slaves and he called us
+at four in de mornin' and we worked from sun to sun. Most of de
+time we worked on Sunday, too.</p>
+
+<p>"De white overseers whupped us with straps when we didn't do
+right. I seed niggers in chains lots of times, 'cause there wasn't
+no jails and they jus' chained 'em to trees.</p>
+
+<p>"Spec'lators on hosses drove big bunches of slaves past our
+place from one place to another, to auction 'em at de market places.
+De women would be carryin' l'il ones in dere arms and at night dey
+bed 'em down jus' like cattle right on de ground 'side of de road.
+Lots of l'il chillun was sold 'way from de mammy when dey seven or
+eight, or even smaller. Dat's why us cullud folks don't know our
+kinfolks to dis day.</p>
+
+<p>"De best times was when de corn shuckin' was at hand. Den you
+didn't have to bother with no pass to leave de plantation, and de
+patter rolls didn't bother you. If de patter rolls cotch you without
+de pass any other time, you better wish you dead, 'cause you
+would have yourself some trouble.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But de corn shuckin', dat was de gran' times. All de marsters
+and dere black boys from plantations from miles 'round would be dere.
+Den when we got de corn pile high as dis house, de table was spread
+out under de shade. All de boys dat 'long to old marster would take
+him on de packsaddle 'round de house, den dey bring him to de table and
+sit by he side; den all de boys dat 'long to Marster Bevan from another
+plantation take him on de packsaddle 'round and 'round de house, allus
+singin' and dancin', den dey puts him at de other side de table, and
+dey all do de same till everybody at de table, den dey have de feast.</p>
+
+<p>"To see de runaway slaves in de woods scared me to death.
+They'd try to snatch you and hold you, so you couldn't go tell. Sometimes
+dey cotched dem runaway niggers and dey be like wild animals and
+have to be tamed over 'gain. Dere was a white man call Henderson had
+60 bloodhounds and rents 'em out to run slaves. I well rec'lect de
+hounds run through our place one night, chasin' de slave what kilt his
+wife by runnin' de harness needle through her heart. Dey cotch him and
+de patter rolls took him to Henderson and hangs him.</p>
+
+<p>"De patter rolls dey chases me plenty times, but I's lucky,
+'cause dey never cotched me. I slips off to see de gal on de nex'
+plantation and I has no pass and they chases me and was I scairt! You
+should have seed me run through dat bresh, 'cause I didn't dare go out
+on de road or de path. It near tore de clothes off me, but I goes on
+and gits home and slides under de house. But I'd go to see dat gal
+every time, patter rolls or no patter rolls, and I gits trained so's
+I could run 'most as fast as a rabbit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"De white chillun larned us to read and write at night, but
+I never paid much 'tention, but I kin read de testament now. Other times
+at night de slaves gathers round de cabins in little bunches and talks
+till bedtime. Sometimes we'd dance and someone would knock out time for us
+by snappin' de fingers and slappin' de knee. We didn't have nothin' to
+make de music on.</p>
+
+<p>"We mos'ly lived on corn pone and salt bacon de marster give us.
+We didn't have no gardens <a name='TC_19'></a><span class="corr" title="outselves">ourselves</span>, 'cause we wouldn't have time to work
+in dem. We worked all day in de fields and den was so tired we couldn't
+do nothin' more.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy doctored us when we was feelin' bad and she'd take dog-fenley,
+a yaller lookin' weed, and brew tea, and it driv de chills and
+de fever out of us. Sometimes she put horse mint on de pallet with us to
+make us sweat and driv de fever 'way. For breakfast she'd make us sass'
+fras tea, to clear our blood.</p>
+
+<p>"My marstar and his two step-sons goes to de war. De marster was
+a big gen'ral on de southern side. I didn't know what dey fightin' 'bout
+for a long time, den I heered it 'bout freedom and I felt like it be Heaven
+here on earth to git freedom, 'spite de fac' I allus had de good marster.
+He sho' was good to us, but you knows dat ain't de same as bein' free.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420124" id="nr420124"></a>420124</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/263tempiecummins.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Tempie Cummins" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Tempie Cummins</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>TEMPIE CUMMINS was born at
+Brookeland, Texas, sometime
+before the Civil War, but
+does not know her exact age.
+William Neyland owned Tempie
+and her parents. She now
+lives alone in a small, weather-beaten
+shack in the South Quarters,
+a section of Jasper, Tex.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"They call me Tempie Cummins and I was born at Brookeland
+but I don' know jus' the 'xact date. My father's name was Jim
+Starkins and my mother's name was Charlotte Brooks and both of 'em
+come from Alabama. I had jus' one brudder, Bill, and four sisters
+named Margaret and Hannah and Mary and 'Liza. Life was good when
+I was with them and us play round. Miss Fannie Neyland, she Mis'
+Phil Scarborough now, she raise me, 'cause I was give to them when
+I was eight year old.</p>
+
+<p>"I slep' on a pallet on the floor. They give me a homespun
+dress onct a year at Christmas time. When company come I had
+to run and slip on that dress. At other time I wore white chillens'
+cast-off clothes so wore they was ready to throw away. I had to pin
+them up with red horse thorns to hide my nakedness. My dress was
+usually split from hem to neck and I had to wear them till they was
+strings. <a name='TC_20'></a><span class="corr" title="Weht">Went</span> barefoot summer and winter till the feets crack open.</p>
+
+<p>"I never seed my grandparents 'cause my mother she sold
+in Alabama when she's 17 and they brung her to Texas and treat her
+rough. At mealtime they hand me a piece of cornbread and tell me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
+'Run 'long.' Sometime I git little piece of meat and biscuit, 'bout
+onct a month. I gathered up scraps the white chillens lef'.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster was rough. He take two beech switches and twist them
+together and whip 'em to a stub. Many's the time I's bled from them
+whippin's. Our old mistus, she try to be good to us, I reckon, but she
+was turrible lazy. She had two of us to wait on her and then she didn'
+treat us good.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster had 30 or 40 acres and he raise cotton, and corn and
+'tatoes. He used to raise 12 bales cotton a year and then drink it all
+up. We work from daylight till dark, and after. Marster punish them
+what didn' work hard enough.</p>
+
+<p>"The white chillen tries teach me to read and write but I
+didn' larn much, 'cause I allus workin'. Mother was workin' in the
+house, and she cooked too. She say she used to hide in the chimney
+corner and listen to what the white folks say. When freedom was
+'clared, marster wouldn' tell 'em, but mother she hear him tellin'
+mistus that the slaves was free but they didn' know it and he's not
+gwineter tell 'em till he makes another crop or two. When mother
+hear that she say she slip out the chimney corner and crack her
+heels together four times and shouts, 'I's free, I's free.' Then
+she runs to the field, 'gainst marster's will and tol' all the other
+slaves and they quit work. Then she run away and in the night she
+slip into a big ravine near the house and have them bring me to her.
+Marster, he come out with his gun and shot at mother but she run down
+the ravine and gits away with me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I seed lots of ghosties when I's young. I couldn' sleep
+for them. I's kind of outgrowed them now. But one time me and my
+younges' chile was comin' over to church and right near the dippin'
+vat is two big gates and when we git to them, out come a big old white
+ox, with long legs and horns and when he git 'bout halfway, he turns
+into a man with a Panama hat on. He follers us to Sandy Creek bridge.
+Sometimes at night I sees that same spirit sittin' on that bridge now.</p>
+
+<p>"My old man say, in slavery time, when he's 21, he had to
+pass a place where patterroles whipped slaves and had kilt some. He
+was sittin' on a load of fodder and there come a big light wavin' down
+the road and scarin' the team and the hosses drag him and near kilt him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420070" id="nr420070"></a>420070</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/266adelinecunningham.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Adeline Cunningham" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Adeline Cunningham</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ADELINE CUNNINGHAM, 1210 Florida St.,
+born 1852, was a slave in Lavaca County,
+4-1/2 miles n.e. of Hallettsville. She
+was a slave of Washington Greenlee Foley
+and his grandson, John Woods. The Foley
+plantation consisted of several square
+leagues, each league containing 4,428.4
+acres. Adeline is tall, spare and primly
+erect, with fiery brown eyes, which
+snap when she recalls the
+slave days. The house is
+somewhat pretentious and well furnished.
+The day was hot and the granddaughter prepared
+ice water for her grandmother and
+the interviewer. House and porch were
+very clean.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was bo'n on ole man Foley's plantation in Lavaca County. He's
+got more'n 100 slaves. He always buy slaves and he never sell. How many
+acres of lan' he got? Lawd, dat man ain't got acres, he got leagues. Dey
+raises cotton and co'n, and cattle and hawgs. Ole man Foley's plantation
+run over Lavaca and Colorado county, he got 1600 acres in one block and
+some of it on de Navidad River. Ole man Foley live in a big log house wid
+two double rooms and a hall, and he build a weavin' house agin his own house
+and dey's anudder house wid de spinnin' wheels. And ole man Foley run his
+own cotton gin and his own grindin' mill where dey grinds de co'n and dey
+got a big potato patch.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey was rough people and dey treat ev'ry body rough. We lives in
+de quarter; de houses all jine close togedder but you kin walk 'tween 'em.
+All de cabins has one room and mostly two fam'lies bunks togedder in de one
+room wid dirt floors. De slaves builds de cabins, de slaves got no money,
+dey got no land.</p>
+
+<p>"No suh, we never goes to church. Times we sneaks in de woods and
+prays de Lawd to make us free and times one of de slaves got happy and made
+a noise dat dey heered at de big house and den de overseer come and whip us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>
+'cause we prayed de Lawd to set us free.</p>
+
+<p>"You know what a stockman is? He is a man dat buys and sells
+cattle. Ev'ry year de stockman comes to ole man Foley's and he lines us up
+in de yard and de stockman got a lotta slaves tied togedder and ole man Foley
+he buys some slaves but he won't sell none. Yassuh, de stockman buys and sells
+de slaves jes' de same as cattle.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey feeds us well sometimes, if dey warn't mad at us. Dey has a
+big trough jes' like de trough for de pigs and dey has a <a name='TC_21'></a><span class="corr" title="bit">big</span> gourd and dey
+totes de gourd full of milk and dey breaks de bread in de milk. Den my mammy
+takes a gourd and fills it and gives it to us chillun. How's we eat it? We
+had oyster shells for spoons and de slaves comes in from de fields and dey hands
+is all dirty, and dey is hungry. Dey dips de dirty hands right in de trough and
+we can't eat none of it. De women wuks in de fields until dey has chillun and
+when de chillun's ole enough to wuk in de fields den de mother goes to ole man
+Foley's house. Dere she's a house servant and wuks at spinnin' and weavin' de
+cotton. Dey makes all de clothes for ole man Foley and his fam'ly and for de
+slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"No suh, we ain't got no holidays. Sundays we grinds co'n and de
+men split rails and hoes wid de grubbin' hoe. Ole man Foley has a blacksmif
+shop and a slave does de blacksmiffin. De slaves builds cabins wid split logs
+and dey makes de roof tight wid co'n shucks and grass. One time a month, times
+one time in two months, dey takes us to de white folks church.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey's four or five preachers and de slaves. Iffen deys a marriage
+de preacher has a book. He's gotter keep it hid, 'cause dey's afraid iffen de
+slaves learns to read dey learns how to run away. One of de slaves runs away
+and dey ketches him and puts his eyes out. Dey catches anudder slave dat run<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>
+away and dey hanged him up by de arm. Yassuh, I see dat wid my own eyes;
+dey holds de slave up by one arm, dey puts a iron on his knee and a iron on
+his feet and drag 'im down but his feet cain't reach de groun'.</p>
+
+<p>"Ole man Foley ain't bad, but de overseers is mean. No suh, we never
+gits no money and we never gits no lan'. Ole man Foley, he wants to give us
+sumpin for gardens but Mr. John Woods, his gran'son, is agin it.</p>
+
+<p>"Was I glad when dat was over? Wouldn' you be? It's long after we's
+free dat I gits married. Yassuh, and I live in San Antonio 'bout 20 years."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420035" id="nr420035"></a>420035</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/269awilldailyshouse.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Will Daily&#39;s House" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Will Daily&#39;s House</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/269bwilldaily.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Will Daily" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Will Daily</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILL DAILY, was born in 1858 in
+Missouri, near the city of St.
+Louis. He was a slave of the John
+Daily family and served as chore
+boy around the house, carried the
+breakfast to the field and always
+drove up the horses on the plantation.
+The latter duty developed a
+fondness for horses which led to a
+career as a race horse rider and
+trainer. He remained with his white
+folks several years after freedom
+and in Missouri many years longer in
+this work. He came to San Angelo,
+Texas in 1922 and took up hotel work
+which he followed until his health
+broke, only a few years ago. He now
+lives in his small home, in the colored
+district of the city and depends on
+his old age pension for a livelihood.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Huh! What you say, did you say somethin' 'bout de
+ole age pension?", questioned Will when approached on the
+slavery question, but he answered readily, "Sho! sho' I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>
+was a slave an' I aint ashamed to admit dat I was.
+Some of dese here fellers thinks dey sounds ole when
+dey says dey was slaves and dey denies it but I's
+proud enough of de good treatment I's got, to allus
+tell about it. My marster had a driver but he say
+his niggers was human, wid human feelin's, so he makes
+dat driver reports to him fer what little thrashin's
+we gits. Course we had to do de right thing but jes'
+some how did, mos' of de time 'cause he was good to us.
+Soon as I was big enough, about four or five years ole,
+ole miss, she starts trainin' me fer a house boy. I's
+a doin' all sorts of chores by de time I was six years
+old. Den ole marster he starts sendin' me out on de
+plantation to drive up de hosses. I sho' likes dat job
+'cause aint nothin' I loves any better den hosses. Den
+when I was bigger he starts me to carryin' de breakfast
+to de field whar de grown niggers had been out workin'
+since way 'fore day. Dey all done dat. Dey say de days
+wasn't long enough to put in enough time so dey works
+part of de night.</p>
+
+<p>"We had good grub 'cause we raised all de co'n
+and de hogs and de cows and chickens and plenty of everything.
+Mos' times we have biscuits and bacon and syrup
+for breakfast and butter too if we wants it but mos'
+niggers dey likes dat fat bacon de bes'.</p>
+
+<p>"Our log cabins was good and comfortable. Dey was
+all along in a row and built out of de same kind of logs
+what our marsters house was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We had good beds and dey was clean.</p>
+
+<p>"I nev'r had no money when I was a slave 'cause I
+was jes' a small boy when de slaves was set free.</p>
+
+<p>"We had lots of fish and rabbits, more den we had
+'possum but we sho' likes dat 'possum when we could git
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster had about three hundred slaves and a
+big plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"I seen some slaves sold off dat big auction block
+and de little chillun sho' would be a cryin' when dey
+takes dere mothers away from dem.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn' have no jail 'cause my marster didn' believe
+dat way, but I's seen other slaves in dem chains and
+things.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn' know nothin' 'bout no learnin' nor no
+church neither and when de slaves die dey was jes' buried
+without no singin' or nothin'.</p>
+
+<p>"When de war started, my father, he goes and once I
+remember he comes home on a furlough and we was all so
+glad, den when he goes back he gits killed and we nev'r
+see him no mo'.</p>
+
+<p>"We had de doctor and good care when we was sick.
+I's don't remember much 'bout what kinds of medicine we
+took but I's know it was mostly home-made.</p>
+
+<p>"We all wears dat asafoetida on a string 'round our
+necks and sometimes we carry a rabbit's foot in our
+pockets fer good luck.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When de war was ended and de slaves was free
+old Uncle Pete, our oldest slave, comes a-walkin' up
+from de woods whar he always go to keeps from bein'
+bothered, to read his Bible, and he had dat Bible under
+his arm an' he say, 'I's know somethin', me an' de Lawd
+knows somethin'', and den he tells us. He say, 'You all
+is free people now, you can go when you please and come
+when you pleases and you can stay here or go some other
+place'. Well I had to stay 'cause my mother stayed and
+I's jes' keeps on ridin' dem race hosses 'til long after
+my marster was dead, den I's gits me some hosses of my
+own and train other men's hosses too.</p>
+
+<p>"I's worked at dat racin' business 'til I's come
+to Texas and when I went to work in hotels dat killed
+me up. I's done ev'r thing from makin' soap fer de
+scrubbin', to cookin' de bes' meals fer de bes' hotels.
+I aint been no good since, though, and I had to quit
+several years ago.</p>
+
+<p>"De first time I was married was to Phillis Reed
+in Missouri and we jes' jumps over de broom, and after
+Phillis die and I comes to Texas I's gits married again
+to Susie, here in San Angelo; we jes' jumps ov'r de
+broom too. I's nev'r had no chillun of my own so I's
+jes' a settin' here a-livin' off de ole age pension."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420029" id="nr420029"></a>420029</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/273juliafrancisdaniels.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Julie Francis Daniels" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Julie Francis Daniels</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JULIA FRANCIS DANIELS, born in
+1848, in Georgia, a slave of the
+Denman family, who moved to Texas
+before the Civil War. Julia's
+memory fails her when she tries
+to recall names and dates. She
+still tries to take part in church
+activities and has recently started
+to learn reading and writing. She
+lives with a daughter at 2523 Spring
+St. Dallas, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"They's lots I disremembers and they's lots I remembers, like the
+year the war's over and the fightin' all done with, 'cause that the year
+I larned to plow and that the time I got married. That's the very year
+they larned me to plow. I larnt all right, 'cause I wasn't one slow to
+larn anything. Afore to that time, they ain't never had no hoe in the
+field for me a-tall. I jes' toted water for the ones in the field.</p>
+
+<p>"I had plenty brothers and sisters, 'bout ten of 'em, but I
+disremembers some they names. There was Tom and George and Marthy and
+Mandy, and they's all name' Denman, 'cause my mammy and daddy was Lottie
+and Boyd Denman and they come from Georgia to Cherokee County and then
+to Houston County, near by to Crockett, with Old Man Denman. He was the
+one owned all us till he 'vided some with Miss Lizzie when she marries
+Mr. Cramer.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy worked in the fields with Uncle Lot and my brothers,
+and my Uncle Joe, he's driver. But Briscoe am overseer and he a white man.
+He can't never whup the growed mens like he wants, 'cause they don't let
+him unless he ask Old Man Denman. I seed him whup 'em, though. He make
+'em take off the shirt and whup with the strap.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Now, my mammy was cook in the Denman house and for our family
+and Uncle Joe's family. She didn't have much time for anythin' but cookin'
+all the time. But she's the bestes' cook. Us had fine greens and hawgs
+and beef. Us et collard greens and pork till us got skittish of it and
+then they quit the pork and kilt a beef. When they done that, they's jus'
+pourin' water on our wheels, 'cause us liked best of anythin' the beef, and
+I do to this day, only I can't never git it.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Man Denman had a boy what kilt squirrels and throwed 'em
+in the kitchen. The white folks et them. You ain't never seen no white
+folks then would eat rabbit. I had a brother who hunted. Mostly on Sundays.
+He'd leave for the swamps 'fore daybreak and we'd know when we'd hear him
+callin', 'O-o-o-o-o-da-da-ske-e-e-e-t,' he had somethin'. That jus' a
+make-up of he own, but we knowed they's rabbits for the pot.</p>
+
+<p>"All the mens don't hunt on Sunday, 'cause Uncle Joe helt meetin'
+in front he house. Us look out the door and seed Uncle Joe settin' the
+benches straight and settin' he table out under the trees and sweepin' clean
+the leaves and us know they's gwine be meetin'. They's the loveliest days
+that ever they was. Night times, too, they'd make it 'tween 'em whether it'd
+be at our house or Uncle Joe's. We'd ask niggers from other farms and I used
+to say, 'I likes meetin' jus' as good as I likes a party.'</p>
+
+<p>"When crops is laid by us have the most parties and dence and sing
+and have play games. The reels is what I used to like but I done quit that
+foolishness many a year ago. I used to cut a step or two. I remembers one
+reel call the 'Devil's Dream.' It's a fast song<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+"'Oh, de Devil drempt a dream,<br />
+He drempt it on a Friday&mdash;<br />
+He drempt he cotch a sinner.'<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Old Man Denman am the great one for 'viding he property and when
+Miss Lizzie marries with Mr. Creame Cramer, which am her dead sister's
+husband, Old Man Denman give me and two my sisters to Miss Lizzie and
+he gives two more my sisters to he son. Us goes with Miss Lizzie to the
+Cramer place and lives in the back yard in a little room by the back door.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything fine and nice there till one day Miss Lizzie say to
+me, 'Julia, go down to the well and fetch me some water,' and I goes and
+I seed in the road a heap of men all in gray and ridin' hosses, comin' our
+way. I runs back to the house and calls Miss Lizzie. She say, 'What you
+scairt for?' I tells her 'bout them men and she say they ain't gwine hurt
+me none, they jus' wants some water. I goes back to the well and heared 'em
+talk 'bout a fight. I goes back to the house and some of the mens comes to
+the gate and says to Mr. Cramer, 'How're you, Creame?' He say, 'I's
+all right in my health but I ain't so good in my mind.' They says, 'What
+the matter, Creame?' He say, 'I want to be in the fight so bad.'</p>
+
+<p>"When they goes I asks Miss Lizzie what they fightin' 'bout and she
+say it am 'bout money. That all I knows. Right after that Mr. Cramer goes
+and we don't never see him no more. Word come back from the fightin' he
+makes some the big, high mens mad and they puts chains 'round he ankles
+and make him dig a stump in the hot sun. He ain't used to that and it give
+him fever to the brain and he dies.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When Mr. Cramer goes 'way, Miss Lizzie takes us all and goes
+back to Old Man Denman's. The sojers used to pass and all the whoopin' and
+hollerin' and carryin' on, you ain't never heered the likes! They hollers,
+'Who-o-o-o, Old Man Denman, how's your chickens?' And they chunks and
+throws at 'em till they cripples 'em up and puts 'em in they bags, for
+cookin'. Old Man Denman cusses at 'em somethin' powerful.</p>
+
+<p>"My sister Mandy and me am down in the woods a good, fur piece
+from the house and us keeps heerin' a noise. My brother comes down and
+finds me and say, 'Come git your dinner.' When I gits there dinner am top
+the gate post and he say they's sojers in the woods and they has been
+persecutin' a old woman on a mule. She was a nigger woman. I gits so
+scairt I can't eat my dinner. I ain't got no heart for victuals. My brother
+say, 'Wait for pa, he comin' with the mule and he'll hide you out.' I gits
+on the mule front of pa and us pass through the sojers and they grabs at us
+and says, 'Gimme the gal, gimme the gal.' Pa say I faints plumb 'way.</p>
+
+<p>"Us heered guns shootin' round and 'bout all the time. Seems like
+they fit every time they git a chance. Old Man Denman's boy gits kilt and
+two my sisters he property and they don't know what to do, 'cause they has
+to be somebody's property and they ain't no one to 'heritance 'em. They
+has to go to the auction but Old Man Denman say not to fret. At the auction
+the man say, 'Goin' high, goin' low, goin' mighty slow, a little while to go.
+Bid 'em in, bid 'em in. The sun am high, the sun am hot, us got to git home
+tonight.' An old friend of Old Man Denman's hollers out he buys for William
+Blackstone. Us all come home and my sisters too and Old Man Denman laugh big
+and say, 'My name allus been William Blackstone Denman.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I's a woman growed when the war was to a end. I had my first
+baby when I's fourteen. One day my sister call me and say, 'They's fit out,
+and they's been surrenderin' and ain't gwine fight no more.' That dusk Old
+Man Denman call all us niggers together and stand on he steps and make he
+speech, 'Mens and womans, you is free as I am. You is free to go where you
+wants but I is beggin' yous to stay by me till us git the crops laid by.'
+Then he say, 'Study it over 'fore you gives me you answer. I is always try
+as my duty to be fair to you.'</p>
+
+<p>"The mens talks it over a-twixt theyselves and includes to stay.
+They says us might as well stay there as go somewhere else, and us got no
+money and no place to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Then Miss Lizzie marries with Mr. Joe McMahon and I goes with
+her to he house near by and he say he larn me to plow. Miss Lizzie say,
+'Now, Julia, you knows how to plow and don't make no fool of yourself and
+act like you ain't never seed no plow afore.' Us make a corn crop and goes
+on 'bout same as afore.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits married that very year and has a little fixin' for the
+weddin', bakes some cakes and I have a dress with buttons and a preacher
+marries me. I ain't used to wearin' nothin' but loring (a simple one piece
+garment made from sacking). Unnerwear? I ain't never wore no unnerwear then.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband rents a little piece of land and us raise a corn crop
+and that's the way us do. Us raises our own victuals. I has 17 chillen
+through the year and they done scatter to the four winds. Some of them is
+dead. I ain't what I used to be for workin'. I jus' set 'round. I done plenty
+work in my primer days.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420015" id="nr420015"></a>420015</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/278katiedarling.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Katie Darling" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Katie Darling</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>KATIE DARLING, about 88, was
+born a slave on the plantation
+of William McCarty, on the Elysian
+Fields Road, nine miles
+south of Marshall, Texas. Katie
+was a nurse and housegirl in the
+McCarty household until five years
+after the end of the Civil War.
+She then moved to Marshall and
+married. Her husband and her
+three children are dead and she
+is supported by Griffin Williams,
+a boy she found homeless and
+reared. They live in a neat
+three-room shack in Sunny South
+addition of Marshall, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"You is talkin' now to a nigger what nussed seven white chillen
+in them bullwhip days. Miss Stella, my young missy, got all our ages
+down in she Bible, and it say I's born in 1849. Massa Bill McCarty
+my massa and he live east and south of Marshall, clost to the Louisiana
+line. Me and my three brudders, Peter and Adam and Willie, all lives
+to be growed and married, but mammy die in slavery and pappy run 'way
+while he and Massa Bill on they way to the battle of Mansfield. Massa
+say when he come back from the war, 'That triflin' nigger run 'way and
+jines up with them damn Yankees.'</p>
+
+<p>"Massa have six chillen when war come on and I nussed all of 'em.
+I stays in the house with 'em and slep' on a pallet on the floor, and soon
+I's big 'nough to tote the milk pail they puts me to milkin', too. Massa
+have more'n 100 cows and most the time me and Violet do all the milkin'.
+We better be in that cowpen by five o'clock. One mornin' massa cotched
+me lettin' one the calves do some milkin' and he let me off without whippin'
+that time, but that don't mean he allus good, 'cause them cows have more
+feelin' for than massa and missy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We et peas and greens and collards and middlin's. Niggers
+had better let that ham alone! We have meal coffee. They parch meal
+in the oven and bile it and drink the liquor. Sometime we gits some
+of the Lincoln coffee what was lef' from the nex' plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"When the niggers done anything massa bullwhip them, but
+didn't skin them up very often. He'd whip the man for half doin' the
+plowin' or hoein' but if they done it right he'd find something else to
+whip them for. At night the men had to shuck corn and the women card
+and spin. Us got two pieces of clothes for winter and two for summer,
+but us have no shoes. We had to work Saturday all day and if that grass
+was in the field we didn't git no Sunday, either.</p>
+
+<p>"They have dances and parties for the white folks' chillen, but
+missy say, 'Niggers was made to work for white folks,' and on Christmas
+Miss Irene bakes two cakes for the nigger families but she darsn't let
+missy know 'bout it.</p>
+
+<p>"When a slave die, massa make the coffin hisself and send a
+couple niggers to bury the body and say, 'Don't be long,' and no singin'
+or prayin' 'lowed, jus' put them in the ground and cover 'em up and hurry
+on back to that field.</p>
+
+<p>"Niggers didn't cou't then like they do now, massa pick out a
+po'tly man and a po'tly gal and jist put 'em together. What he want am
+the stock.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member that fight at Mansfield like it yes'day. Massas's
+field am all tore up with cannon holes and ever' time a cannon fire, missy
+go off in a rage. One time when a cannon fire, she say to me, 'You li'l<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>
+black wench, you niggers ain't gwine be free. You's made to work for white
+folks.' 'Bout that time she look up and see a Yankee sojer standin' in the
+door with a pistol. She say, 'Katie, I didn't say anythin', did I?' I
+say, 'I ain't tellin' no lie, you say niggers ain't gwine git free.'</p>
+
+<p>"That day you couldn't git 'round the place for the Yankees and they
+stays for weeks at a time.</p>
+
+<p>"When massa come home from the war he wants let us loose, but missy
+wouldn't do it. I stays on and works for them six years after the war and
+missy whip me after the war jist like she did 'fore. She has a hun'erd
+lashes laid up for me now, and this how it am. My brudders done lef'
+massa after the war and move nex' door to the Ware place, and one Saturday
+some niggers come and tell me my brudder Peter am comin' to git me 'way
+from old missy Sunday night. That night the cows and calves got together
+and missy say it my fault. She say, 'I'm gwine give you one hun'erd lashes
+in the mornin', now go pen them calves.'</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know whether them calves was ever penned or not, 'cause
+Peter was waitin' for me at the lot and takes me to live with him on the
+Ware place. I's so happy to git away from that old devil missy, I don't
+know what to do, and I stays there sev'ral years and works out here and
+there for money. Then I marries and moves here and me and my man farms
+and nothin' 'citin' done happened."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420046" id="nr420046"></a>420046</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/281careydavenport.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Carey Davenport" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Carey Davenport</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>CAREY DAVENPORT, retired Methodist
+minister of Anahuac, Texas, appears
+sturdy despite his 83 years. He was
+reared a slave of Capt. John Mann,
+in Walker Co., Texas. His wife, who
+has been his devoted companion for
+60 years, was born in slavery just
+before emancipation. Carey is very
+fond of fishing and spends much time
+with hook and line. He is fairly
+well educated and is influential
+among his fellow Negroes.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"If I live till the 13th of August I'll be 82 years old.
+I was born in 1855 up in Walker County but since then they split the
+county and the place I was born is just across the line in San Jacinto
+County now. Jim and Janey Davenport was my father and mother and they
+come from Richmond, Virginia. I had two sisters, Betty and Harriet,
+and a half brother, William.</p>
+
+<p>"Our old master's name was John Mann but they called him Capt.
+Mann. Old missus' name was Sarah. I'd say old master treated us slaves
+bad and there was one thing I couldn't understand, 'cause he was 'ligious
+and every Sunday mornin' everybody had to git ready and go for prayer.
+I never could understand his 'ligion, 'cause sometimes he git up off his
+knees and befo' we git out the house he cuss us out.</p>
+
+<p>"All my life I been a Methodist and I been a regular preacher 43
+years. Since I quit I been livin' here at Anahuac and seems like I do
+'bout as much preachin' now as I ever done.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't member no cullud preachers in slavery times. The
+white Methodist circuit riders come round on horseback and preach.
+There was a big box house for a church house and the cullud folks sit
+off in one corner of the church.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes the cullud folks go down in dugouts and hollows and
+hold they own service and they used to sing songs what come a-gushin' up
+from the heart.</p>
+
+<p>"They was 'bout 40 slaves on the place, but I never seed no
+slaves bought or sold and I never was sold, but I seen 'em beat&mdash;O, Lawd,
+yes. I seen 'em make a man put his head through the crack of the rail
+fence and then they beat him till he was bloody. They give some of 'em
+300 or 400 licks.</p>
+
+<p>"Old man Jim, he run away lots and sometimes they git the dogs
+after him. He run away one time and it was so cold his legs git frozen
+and they have to cut his legs off. Sometimes they put chains on runaway
+slaves and chained 'em to the house. I never knowed of 'em puttin' bells
+on the slaves on our place, but over next to us they did. They had a
+piece what go round they shoulders and round they necks with pieces up
+over they heads and hung up the bell on the piece over they head.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a sheep minder them days. The wolves was bad but they
+never tackled me, 'cause they'd ruther git the sheep. They like sheep
+meat better'n man meat. Old Captain wanted me to train he boy to herd
+sheep and one day young master see a sow with nine pigs and want me to
+catch them and I wouldn't do it. He tried to beat me up and when we git
+to the lot we have to go round to the big gate and he had a pine knot,
+and he catch me in the gate and hit me with that knot. Old Captain sittin'
+on the gallery and he seed it all. When he heered the story he whipped
+young master and the old lady, she ain't like it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One time after that she sittin' in the yard knittin' and she
+throwed her knittin' needle off and call me to come git it. I done forgot
+she wanter whip me and when I bring the needle she grab me and I pull away but
+she hold on my shirt. I run round and round and she call her mother and they
+catch and whip me. My shirt just had one button on it and I was pullin'
+and gnawin' on that button and directly it come off and the whole shirt pull
+off and I didn't have nothin' on but my skin. I run and climb up on the pole
+at the gate and sot there till master come. He say, 'Carey, why you sittin'
+up there?' Then I tell him the whole transaction. I say, 'Missus, she
+whip me 'cause young marse John git whip that time and not me.' He make me
+git down and git up on his horse behin' him and ride up to the big house.
+Old missus, she done went to the house and go to bed with her leg, 'cause
+when she whippin' me she stick my head 'tween her knees and when she do that
+I bit her.</p>
+
+<p>"Old master's house was two-story with galleries. My mother, she
+work in the big house and she have a purty good house to live in. It was
+a plank house, too, but all the other houses was make out of hewed logs.
+Then my father was a carpenter and old master let him have lumber and he make
+he own furniture out of dressed lumber and make a box to put clothes in. We
+never did have more'n two changes of clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"My father used to make them old Carey plows and was good at makin'
+the mould board out of hardwood. He make the best Carey plows in that part
+of the country and he make horseshoes and nails and everything out of iron.
+And he used to make spinning wheels and parts of looms. He was a very valuable
+man and he make wheels and the hub and put the spokes in.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Old master had a big farm and he raised cotton and corn and 'taters
+and peanuts and sorghum cane and some ribbon cane. The bigges' crops was
+cotton and corn.</p>
+
+<p>"My father told us when freedom come. He'd been a free man, 'cause
+he was bodyguard to the old, old master and when he died he give my father
+he freedom. That was over in Richmond, Virginia. But young master steal
+him into slavery again. So he was glad when freedom come and he was free
+again. Old master made arrangement for us to stay with him till after the
+harvest and then we go to the old Rawls house what 'long to Mr. Chiv Rawls.
+He and my father and mother run the place and it was a big farm.</p>
+
+<p>"I git marry when I was 'bout 22 years old and that's her right there
+now. We's been married more'n 60 years and she was 17 years old then. She
+was raised in Grant's colony and her father was a blacksmith.</p>
+
+<p>"We had it all 'ranged and we stop the preacher one Sunday mornin'
+when he was on the way to preachin' and he come there to her pa's house and
+marry us. We's had 11 children and all has deceased but three.</p>
+
+<p>"I was educated since freedom, 'cause they wasn't no schools in
+slavery days, but after I was freed I went to public schools. Most my
+learnin' I got from a German man what was principal of a college and he
+teach me the biggest part of my education.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was 14 a desperado killed my father and then I had my
+mother and her eight children to take care of. I worked two months and
+went to school one month and that way I made money to take care of 'em.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420215" id="nr420215"></a>420215</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/285campbelldavis.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Campbell Davis" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Campbell Davis</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>CAMPBELL DAVIS, 85, was born
+in Harrison Co., Texas, a
+slave of Henry Hood. He remained
+on the Hood place about
+three years after he was freed,
+then farmed in Louisiana. In
+1873 he married and moved back
+to Harrison Co., where he farmed
+until old age forced him to stop.
+He now lives with his nephew,
+Billie Jenkins, near Karnack.
+Campbell receives a $12.00 per
+month old age pension.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I's big 'nough in slavery time to hear dem tell de darkies to
+get up and go in the mornin', and to hear the whistlin' of dem whips and
+howlin' of de dogs. I's birthed up in the northeast part of this county
+right on the line of Louisiana and Texas, and 'longed to old man Henry
+Hood. My mammy and daddy was Campbell and Judy Davis and dey both come
+from Alabama, and was brung here by de traders and sold to Massa Hood.
+They was nine of us chillen, name Ellis and Hildaman and Henderson and
+Henrietta and Georgia and Harriet and Patsy.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Henry didn't have de fine house but it a big one. Us quarters
+sot off 'cross de field in de edge of a skit of woods. Dey have dirt floors
+and a fireplace and old pole and plank bunks nail to de walls.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey fed us beef and veg'tables&mdash;any kind, jus' name it&mdash;and 'low
+us sop bread in potlicker till de world look level. Dat good eatin' and
+all my life I ain't have no better.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa didn't 'low no overseer on he place. One my uncles de driver,
+and massa blow de old conk shell long 'fore day, and if de darkies didn't
+git goin' you'd hear dem whips crackin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I seed one my sisters whip 'cause she didn't spin 'nough. Dey pull
+de clothes down to her waist and laid her down on de stomach and lash her
+with de rawhide quirt. I's in de field when dey whips my Uncle Lewis for
+not pickin' 'nough cotton. De driver pull he clothes down and make him lay
+on de groun'. He wasn't tied down, but he say he scart to move.</p>
+
+<p>"De women am off Friday afternoon to wash clothes and all de hands
+git Saturday afternoon and mos' de man go huntin' or fishin'. Sometimes
+dey have parties Saturday night and couples git on de floor and have music
+of de fiddle and banjo. I only 'members one ring play:</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hop light, li'l lady,<br />
+The cakes all dough,<br />
+Don't mind de weather,<br />
+Jus' so de wind don't blow.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"De bigges' day to blacks and whites was fourth of July. De hands
+was off all day and massa give de big dinner out under de trees. He allus
+barbecue de sheep or beef and have cakes and pies and fancy cookin'. He's
+one de bes' bosses round dat country. He 'lieve in makin' dem work and when
+dey need whippin' he done it, but when it come to feedin' he done dat right,
+too. And on Christmas he give us clothes and shoes and nuts and things and
+'nother big dinner, and on Christmas night de darkies sing songs for de white
+folks.</p>
+
+<p>"Us git some book larnin' 'mongst ourselves, round de quarters, and
+have our own preacher. Mos' de time us chillen play, makin' frog holes in
+de sand and mud people and things.</p>
+
+<p>"I done hear lots of talk 'bout ghosts and hants and think I seed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>
+one onct. I's comin' home from de neighbors at night, in de moonlight, and
+'rectly I seed something white by side de road. De closer I gits de bigger
+it gits. I's scart but I walks up to it and it nothin' but de big spiderweb
+on de bush. Den I says to myself, 'Dere ain't nothin' to dis ghost business.'</p>
+
+<p>"Massa have one son go to war and he taken a old cullud man with
+him. I seed soldiers on hosses comin' and goin' de big road, and lots of
+dem come to Port Caddo in boats. De pretties' sight I ever seed am a soldier
+band all dress in de uniforms with brass buttons. When de soldiers come back
+from de war dey throwed cannon balls 'long de road and us chillen play with
+dem.</p>
+
+<p>"When de war am over, massa call us all and say we's free, but can
+stay on and work for de victuals and clothes. A bunch leaves and go to de
+Progoe Marshal at Shreveport and ask him what to do. He tell dem to go back
+and wait till dey find work some place. My mammy and me stays at de Hood
+place 'bout three years. When I's twenty-one I marries and come back to
+Harrison County. Mammy and me done farm in Louisiana up to dat. My wife and
+me marries under de big oak tree front of de Leigh Church. Us jus' common
+folks and doesn't have no infair or big to-do when us marry.</p>
+
+<p>"I's voted but our people won't pull together. I votes de 'publican
+ticket de long time, but last time I pulls over and votes de Democrat ticket.
+I 'cides I jus' as well go with de braves as stay with de scart.</p>
+
+<p>"If de young gen'ration would study dey could make something out
+deyselves, but dey wont do it. Dey am too wild. Jus' last week, I hears de
+young cullud preacher at Karnack say, 'Brudders and sisters, style and brightness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>
+am what we needs today.' I looks at him and says to myself, 'Thank de Lawd
+I knows better'n dat.' When I's comin' up it am dark, but I knows better
+things am ahead for us people and us trusts in de Lawd and was hones' with
+our white folks and profits by what dey tells us. Dey wasn't no niggers
+sent to jail when I's comin' up. It dis 'style and brightness' what gits de
+young niggers in trouble. Dey got de dark way 'head of dem, less dey stops
+and studies and make somethin' out deyselves."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420294" id="nr420294"></a>420294</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>WILLIAM DAVIS was born near
+Kingston, Tennessee, on the
+first of April, 1845. His
+family were the only slaves
+owned by Jonathan Draper,
+Baptist minister. In 1869
+William joined the army and
+was stationed at Fort Stockton,
+Texas. He has lived in
+Houston since 1870. William
+is active and takes a long,
+daily walk.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"Well, suh, jes' sit down in de chair yonder and I'll tell you what
+I can 'bout times back yonder. Let's see, now. I was born on de first
+day of April in 1845. De reason I knows was 'cause Miss Lizzie, our missy,
+told me so when we was sot free. Mammy done told me I was born den, on de
+Tennessee river, near Kingston. I heared her say de turnpike what run past
+Massa John's house dere goes over de mountain to Bristol, over in Virginny.
+Mammy and pappy and all us chillen 'long to de Drapers, Massa Jonathan what
+us call Massa John, and he wife, Miss Lizzie, and we is de only cullud folks
+<a name='TC_22'></a><span class="corr" title="whay">what</span> dey owns.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa John am de Baptist preacher, and while I'm sho' glad to see my
+folks sot free, I'll tell de truth and say Massa John and Miss Lizzie was
+mighty good to us. Dey have four chillen; Massa Milton, what am oldes' and
+kill in de first battle; Massa Bob and Massa George and Massa Canero. Oh,
+yes, dey have one gal, Missy Ann.</p>
+
+<p>"Course us didn't have no last names like now. Mammy named Sophie and
+pappy named Billy. Sometimes de owners give de slaves last names 'cordin'
+to what dey do, like pappy was meat cook and mammy cook pies and cakes and
+bread, so dey might have Cook for de last name.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We has a bigger family dan Massa John, 'cause dey eight of us
+chillen. I ain't seen none of dem since I lef' Virginny in 1869, but I
+'member all de names. Dere was Jane and Lucy and Ellen and Bob and Solomon
+and Albert and John, and I'm de younges' de whole lot.</p>
+
+<p>"I heared Miss Lizzie tell some white folks dat my mammy and pappy
+give to her by her pappy in Alabama when she get married. Dat de custom with
+rich folks den, and mammy 'long to de Ames, what was Miss Lizzie's name 'fore
+she marry. I heared her say when de stars falls, I think she say in 1832, she
+was 'bout eighteen, and dey think de world am endin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Pappy was a Indian. I knows dat. He came from Congo, over in
+Africa, and I heared him say a big storm druv de ship somewhere on de Ca'lina
+coast. I 'member he mighty 'spectful to Massa and Missy, but he proud, too,
+and walk straighter'n anybody I ever seen. He had scars on de right side he
+head and cheek what he say am tribe marks, but what dey means I don't know.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout de first I 'members real good am where we am in Virginny and
+Massa John runs de Washington College, in Washington County. I 'member all
+de pupils eats at massa's house and dat de first job I ever had. 'Scuse me
+for laughin', but I don't reckon I thunk of dat since de Lawd know when.
+Dat my first job. Dey has a string fasten to de wall on one side de room, with
+pea fowl tail feathers strung 'long it, and it runs most de length de room,
+above de dinin' table, and round a pulley-like piece in de ceilin' with one end
+de string hangin' down. When mealtime come, I am put where de string hang down
+and I pulls it easy like, and de feathers swishes back and forth sideways, and
+keeps de flies from lightin' while folks am eatin'. 'Ceptin' dat, all I does<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>
+is play round with Massa George and Missy Ann.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey ain't no whuppin' on our place and on Sunday us all go to church,
+and Massa John do de preachin'. Dey rides in de buggy and us follow in de
+wagon. De white folks sets in front de church and us in back.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't tell you how long us stay at de college, 'zactly, but us moves
+to Warm Springs to take de baths and drink de water, in Scott County. Dat
+two, three years befo' de war, and Massa John run de hotel and preach on Sunday.
+I think dere am three springs, one sulphur water and one lime water and one a
+warm spring. I does a little bit of everything round de hotel, helps folks
+off de stage when it druv up, wait on table and sich. When I hears de horn
+blow&mdash;you know, de stage driver blow it when dey top de hill 'bout two miles
+'way, to let you know dey comin'&mdash;I sho' hustle round and git ready to meet
+it, 'cause most times folks what I totes de grips for gives me something. Dat
+de first money I ever seed. Some de folks gives me de picayune&mdash;dat what us
+call a nickel, now, and some gives me two shillin's, what same as two-bits now.
+A penny was big den, jes' like a two-bit piece, now.</p>
+
+<p>"But when war begin 'tween de Yankees and de South, it sho' change everything
+up, 'cause folks quit comin' to de Springs and de soldiers takes over de
+place. Massa Milton go to jine de South Army and gits kill. Morgan and he men
+make de Springs headquarters most de war, till de Yankees come marchin' through
+toward de last part. I know pappy say dem Yankees gwine win, 'cause dey allus
+marchin' to de South, but none de South soldiers marches to de North. He didn't
+say dat to de white folks, but he sho' say it to us. When de Yankees come
+marchin' through, de Morgan soldiers jes' hide out till dey gone. Dey never done
+no fightin' round Warm Springs. Lots of times dey goes way for couple weeks and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>
+den comes back and rests awhile.</p>
+
+<p>"Den one mornin'&mdash;I 'members it jes' like it yestiddy, it de fourth
+of July in 1865&mdash;Miss Lizzie say to me, 'Willie, I wants you to git you papa
+and de rest de family and have dem come to de porch right away.' I scurries
+round quick like and tells dem and she comes out of de house and says, 'Now, de
+Yankees done sot you free and you can do what you wants, but you gwineter see
+more carpet baggers and liars dan you ever has seed, and you'll be worse off
+den you <a name='TC_23'></a><span class="corr" title="everhas">ever has</span> been, if you has anythin' to do with dem. Den she opens de book
+and tells us all when us born and how old us am, so us have some record 'bout
+ourselves. She tells me I'm jes' nineteen and one fourth years old when I'm sot
+free.</p>
+
+<p>"She tell pappy Massa John want to see him in de house and when he comes
+out he tells us Massa John done told him to take a couple wagons and de family
+and go to de farm 'bout ten miles 'way on Possum Creek and work it and stay long
+as he wants. Massa has us load up one wagon with 'visions. Pappy made de first
+crop with jes' hoes, 'cause us didn't have no hosses or mules to plow with. Us
+raise jes' corn and some wheat, but dey am fruit trees, peaches and apples and
+pears and cherries. Massa John pay pappy $120 de year, 'sides us 'visions,
+and us stays dere till pappy dies in 1868.</p>
+
+<p>"Den I heared 'bout de railroad what dey buildin' at Knoxville and I
+leaves de folks and gits me de job totin' water. Dey asks my name and I says
+William Davis, 'cause I knows Mr. Jefferson Davis am President of de South durin'
+de war, and I figgers it a good name. In 1869 I goes to Nashville and 'lists in
+de army. I'm in de 24th Infantry, Company G, and us sent to Fort Stockton to
+guard de line of Texas, but all us do am build 'dobe houses. Col. Wade was de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>
+commander de fort and Cap'n Johnson was captain of G. Co. Out dere I votes for
+de first time, for Gen. Grant, when Greeley and him run for president. But I
+gits sick at de Fort and am muster out in 1870 and comes to Houston.</p>
+
+<p>"I gits me de deckhand job on de Dinah, de steamboat what haul freight
+and passengers 'tween Galveston and Houston. Den I works on de Lizzie, what am
+a bigger boat. Course, Houston jes' a little bit of place to what it am now&mdash;dey
+wasn't no git buildin's like dey is now, and mud, I tell you de streets was
+jes' like de swamp when it rain.</p>
+
+<p>"Long 'bout 1875 I gits marry to Mary Jones, but she died in 1883 and I
+gits marry 'gain in 1885 to Arabelle Wilson and has four girls and one boy from
+her. She died 'bout ten years back. Course, us cullud folks marry jes' like
+white folks do now, but I seen cullud folks marry 'fore de war and massa marry
+dem dis way: dey goes in de parlor and each carry de broom. Dey lays de brooms
+on de floor and de woman put her broom front de man and he put he broom front de
+woman. Dey face one 'nother and step 'cross de brooms at de same time to each
+other and takes hold of hands and dat marry dem. Dat's de way dey done, sho',
+'cause I seed my own sister marry dat way.</p>
+
+<p>"I has wished lots of times to go back and see my folks, but I never has
+been back and never seed dem since I left, and I guess dey am all gone 'long 'fore
+now. I has jobbed at first one thing and 'nother and like pappy tells me,
+I has
+trials and tribulations and I has good chillen what ain't never got in no trouble
+and what all helps take care dere old pappy so I guess I ain't got no complainin'
+'bout things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I dreams sometimes 'bout de peach trees and de pear trees and
+de cherry trees and I'd give lots to see de mountains 'gain, 'cause when de
+frost come, 'bout now, de leaves on de trees put on pretty colors and de persimmons
+and nuts is ready for pickin' and a little later on us kill de hawgs and put by
+de meat for de winter.</p>
+
+<p>"De Lawd forgive me for dis foolishness, 'cause I got a good home,
+and has all I need, but I gits to thinkin' 'bout Virginny sometimes and my folks
+what I ain't seed since I left, and it sho' make me want to see it once more 'fore
+I die.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420281" id="nr420281"></a>420281</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ELI DAVISON was born in Dunbar,
+West Virginia, a slave of Will
+Davison. Eli has a bill of sale
+that states he was born in 1844.
+His master moved to Texas in 1858,
+and settled in Madison County.
+Eli lives in Madisonville, with
+one of his sons.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My first Old Marse was Will Davison. My father's name was
+Everett Lee and mama was Susan, and he come to see her twict a month,
+'cause he was owned by 'nother master.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Davison had a good home in West Virginia, where I's born,
+in Dunbar, but most of it 'longed to he wife and she was the boss of him.
+He had a great many slaves, and one mornin' he got up and 'vided all he
+had and told his wife she could have half the slaves. Then we loaded two
+wagons and he turned to his oldest son and the next son and said, 'You's
+gwine with me. Crawl on.' Then he said to he wife, 'Elsie, you can have
+everything here, but I'm takin' Eli and Alex and these here two chillen.'
+The other two gals and two boys he left, and pulled out for Texas. It
+taken us mos' two years to git here, and Marse Will never sot eyes on the rest
+of his family no more, long as he lived.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse never married any more. He'd say, 'They ain't 'nother woman
+under the sun I'd let wear my name.' He never said his wife's name no more,
+but was allus talkin' of them chillun he done left behind.</p>
+
+<p>"We gits here and starts to build a one room log house for Marse Will
+and his two boys. My quarters was one them covered wagons, till he trades me
+off. He cried like a baby, but he said, 'I hate to do this, but its the only
+way I'll have anything to leave for my two boys.' Looks like everything done
+go 'gainst him when he come to Texas, and he took sick and died. The boys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>
+put him away nice and loaded up and went back to Virginia, but the home
+was nailed up and farm lying out, and it took them mos' a year to find they
+folks. The mother and one gal was dead, so they come back and lived and died
+here in Texas.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Will was one more good man back in Virginia. He never got mad
+or whipped a slave. He allus had plenty to eat, with 1,200 acres, but after
+we come here all we had to eat was what we kilt in the woods and cornbread.
+He planted seven acres in corn, but all he did was hunt deer and squirrels.
+They was never a nigger what tried to run off in Texas, 'cause this was a
+good country, plenty to eat by huntin' and not so cold like in Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>"After I was traded off, my new master wasn't so good to me. He thunk
+all the time the South would win that war and he treated us mean. His name
+was Thomas Greer. He kept tellin' us a black nigger never would be free.
+When it come, he said to us, 'Well, you black &mdash;&mdash;, you are just as free as
+I am.' He turnt us loose with nothin' to eat and mos' no clothes. He said if
+he got up nex' mornin' and found a nigger on his place, he'd horsewhip him.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I'd done, but one my old Marse Will's chillun done
+settle close by and they let me work for them, and built me a log house
+and I farmed on halves. They stood good for all the groceries I buyed that
+year. It took all I made that year to pay my debts and that's the way its
+been ever since.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Sarah Keys. We had a home weddin' and 'greed to live together
+as man and wife. I jus' goes by her home one day and captures her like.
+I puts her on my saddle behind me and tells her she's my wife then.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>
+That's all they was to my weddin'. We had six chillun and they's all farmin'
+round here. Sarah, she dies seventeen years ago and I jus' lives round with
+my chillen, 'cause I's too old to do any work.</p>
+
+<p>"All I ever done was to farm. That's all this here nigger knew what to
+do. O, I's seed the time when I never had nothin' to eat and my big bunch
+of chillun cryin' for bread. I could go to the woods then, but you can't git
+wild game no more. In them days it was five or ten mile to your nearest
+neighbor, but now they's so close you can stand in your yard and talk to them.</p>
+
+<p>"I never done no votin', 'cause them Klu Kluxers was allus at the votin'
+places for a long time after the niggers was freed. The niggers has got on
+since them old days. They has gone from nothin' to a fair educated folks.
+We has been kind of slow, 'cause we was turnt loose without nothin', and
+couldn't read and write.</p>
+
+<p>"I's worked for fifteen and thirty cents a day, but Lawd, blessed to
+our president, we gits a li'l pension now and that's kep' me from plumb
+starvin' to death. Times is hard and folks had to do away with everything
+when they had that Hoover for president, but they will be straightened out
+by and by if they'll listen to the president now. 'Course, some wants to
+kill him, 'cause he helps the poor, but it do look like we ought to have
+a li'l bread and salt bacon without upsettin' 'em, when they has so much.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420162" id="nr420162"></a>420162</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>ELIGE DAVISON was born in Richmond,
+Virginia, a slave of George Davison.
+Elige worked in the field for some
+time before he was freed, but does
+not know his age. He lives with one
+of his grandsons, in Madisonville,
+Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My birth was in Richmond. That's over in old Virginny, and
+George Davison owned me and my pappy and mammy. I 'member one sister,
+named Felina Tucker.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa and Missus were very good white folks and was good
+to the black folks. They had a great big rock house with pretty trees all
+round it, but the plantation was small, not more'n a hunerd acres. Massa
+growed tobaccy on 'bout 30 of them acres, and he had a big bunch of hawgs.
+He waked us up 'bout four in the mornin' to milk the cows and feed them
+hawgs.</p>
+
+<p>"Our quarters was good, builded out of pine logs with a bed in
+one corner, no floors and windows. Us wore old loyal clothes and our shirt,
+it open all down the front. In winter massa gave us woolen clothes to wear.
+Us didn't know what shoes was, though.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa, he look after us slaves when us sick, 'cause us worth
+too much money to let die jus' like you do a mule. He git doctor or nigger
+mammy. She make tea out of weeds, better'n quinine. She put string round
+our neck for chills and fever, with camphor on it. That sho' keep off diseases.</p>
+
+<p>"Us work all day till jus' 'fore dark. Sometimes us got whippin's.
+We didn't mind so much. Boss, you know how stubborn a mule am, he have to be
+whipped. That the way slaves is.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When you gather a bunch of cattle to sell they calves, how the calves
+and cows will bawl, that the way the slaves was then. They didn't know nothin'
+'bout they kinfolks. Mos' chillen didn't know who they pappy was and some they
+mammy 'cause they taken 'way from the mammy when she wean them, and sell or
+trade the chillen to someone else, so they wouldn't git 'tached to they mammy
+or pappy.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa larn us to read and us read the Bible. He larn us to write, too.
+They a big church on he plantation and us go to church and larn to tell the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed some few run away to the north and massa sometime cotch 'em
+and put 'em in jail. Us couldn't go to nowhere without a pass. The patterrollers
+would git us and they do plenty for nigger slave. I's went to my quarters and
+be so tired I jus' fall in the door, on the ground, and a patterroller come by
+and hit me several licks with a cat-o-nine-tails, to see if I's tired 'nough
+to not run 'way. Sometimes them patterrollers hit us jus' to hear us holler.</p>
+
+<p>"When a slave die, he jus' 'nother dead nigger. Massa, he builded a
+wooden box and put the nigger in and carry him to the hole in the ground. Us
+march round the grave three times and that all.</p>
+
+<p>"I been marry once 'fore freedom, with home weddin'. Massa, he bring
+some more women to see me. He wouldn't let me have jus' one woman. I have 'bout
+fifteen and I don't know how many chillen. Some over a hunerd, I's sho'.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member plenty 'bout the war, 'cause the Yankees they march on to
+Richmond. They kill everything what in the way. I heared them big guns and
+I's scart. Everybody scart. I didn't see no fightin', 'cause I gits out the
+way and keeps out till it all over.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But when they marches right on the town I's tendin' hosses for massa. He have
+two hosses kilt right under him. Then the Yankees, they capture that town.
+Massa, he send me to git the buggy and hoss and carry missus to the mountain,
+but them Yankees they capture me and say they gwine hang that nigger. But,
+glory be, massa he saves me 'fore they hangs me. He send he wife and my wife
+to 'nother place then, 'cause they burn massa's house and tear down all he
+fences.</p>
+
+<p>"When the war over massa call me and tells me I's free as he was, 'cause
+them Yankees win the war. He give me $5.00 and say he'll give me that much
+a month iffen I stays with him, but I starts to Texas. I heared I wouldn't have
+to work in Texas, 'cause everything growed on trees and the Texans wore animal
+hides for clothes. I didn't git no land or mule or cow. They warn't no plantations
+divided what I knowed 'bout. Mos' niggers jus' got turn loose with a
+cuss, and not 'nough clothes to cover they bodies.</p>
+
+<p>"It 'bout a year 'fore I gits to Texas. I walks nearly all the way.
+Sometimes I git a li'l ride with farmer. Sometimes I work for folks 'long the
+way and git fifty cents and start 'gain.</p>
+
+<p>"I got to Texas and try to work for white folks and try to farm. I
+couldn't make anything at any work. I made $5.00 a month for I don't know how
+many year after the war. Iffen the woods wasn't full of wild game us niggers
+all starve to death them days.</p>
+
+<p>"I been marry three time. First wife Eve Shelton. She run off with
+'nother man. Then I marries Fay Elly. Us sep'rate in a year. Then I marry
+Parlee Breyle. No, I done forgot. 'Fore that I marries Sue Wilford, and us
+have seven gals and six boys. They all in New York but one. He stays here.
+Then I marries Parlee and us have two gals. Parlee die three year ago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The gov'ment give me a pension and I gits li'l odd jobs round, to
+get by. But times been hard and I ain't had much to eat the las' few years.
+Not near so good as what old massa done give me. But I gits by somehow.</p>
+
+<p>"I done the bes' I could, 'sidering I's turned out with nothin' when
+I's growed and didn't know much, neither. The young folks, they knows
+more, 'cause they got the chance for schoolin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420278" id="nr420278"></a>420278</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>JOHN DAY, 81, was born near
+Dayton, Tennessee, a slave
+of Major John Day. John
+lives in McLennan Co., Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I was born near three mile from Dayton. That's over in Tennessee,
+and it was the sixteenth of February, in 1856. Master's name was Major
+John Day and my father's name was Alfred Day, and he was a first-class
+blacksmith. Blacksmithin' was a real trade them days, and my father made
+axes and hoes and plow shares and knives and even Jew's harps.</p>
+
+<p>"Master was good to my father and when he done done de day's work
+he could work and keep the money he made. He'd work till midnight, sometimes,
+and at de end that war he had fifteen hundred dollars in Confederate
+money. I never seen such a worker.</p>
+
+<p>"Master John thunk lots of father but he took de notion to sell him
+one time, 'cause why, he could git a lot of money for him. He sold him, but
+my mama and even Old Missy, cried and took on so dat Master John went after
+de men what bought him, to git him back. Dey already done crossed de river,
+but master calls and dey brung my father back and he give dem de money back.
+Dat de only time master sold one of us.</p>
+
+<p>"He was a preacher and good to us, never beat none of us. He didn't
+have no overseer, but saw to all de work heself. He had twenty-five slaves
+and raised wheat and corn and oats and vegetables and fruit. He had four
+hundred acres and a house with twelve rooms.</p>
+
+<p>"A man what owned a farm jinin' ourn, de houses half a mile apart.
+He had two slaves, Taylor and Jennie, and he whip dem every day, even if dey
+hadn't done nothin'. He allus beatin' on dem, seemed like. One awful cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>
+day in February, Taylor done go to Denton for somethin', and when he come back
+his master starts beatin' on him, and cursed him somethin' awful. He kep' it up
+till my mama, her name was Mariah, gits a butcher knife and runs out dere and say,
+'Iffen you hits him 'nother lick, I'll use this on you.' Old Missy was watchin'
+and backed her up. So he quit beatin' on Taylor dat time. But one day dat white
+man's own son say to him, 'Iffen you don't quit beatin' on dem niggers, I'll knock
+you in de head.' Den he quit.</p>
+
+<p>"Master was in de Confederate army. He gits to be a major and after he
+done come out dat war he sho' hated anythin' what was blue color. I got hold a
+old Yankee cap and coat and is wearin' dem and master yanks dem off and burns dem.</p>
+
+<p>"We heared dem guns in de Lookout Mountain battle. Dey sounded like
+thunder, rumblin' low. One day de Feds done take Dayton and de soldiers goes by
+our place to drive dem Feds out. Dere a valley 'bout two miles wide 'twixt our
+place and Dayton and we could see de Confederate soldiers till dey go up de hill
+on de other side. Long in evenin' de Confederates come back through dat valley
+and they was travelin' with dem Yankees right after dem. Dey come by our house
+and we was gittin' out de way, all right. Old Missy took all us chillen, black
+and white, and puts us under half a big hogshead, down in de stormhouse.</p>
+
+<p>"De Yankees got to de place and 'gin ransack it. Old Missy done lock dat
+stormhouse door and sot down on it and she wouldn't git up when dey done tell her to.
+So dey takes her by de arms and lifts her off it. Dey didn't hurt her any. Den dey
+brekks de lock and comes down in dere. I didn't see whay dey hadn't found us kids,
+'cause my heart beatin' like de hammer. Dey turned dat hogshead over and all us
+kids skinned out dere like de Devil after us. One de Yanks hollers, 'Look what
+we done hatch out!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I tore out past de barn, thinkin' I'd go to mama, in de field, but it
+look like all de Yanks in de world jumpin' dere hosses over dat fence, so I whirls
+round and run in dat barn and dives in a stack of hay and buries myself so deep
+de folks like to never found me. Dey hunted all over de place befo' dey done
+found me. Us kids scart 'cause we done see dem Yanks' bayonets and thunk dey was
+dere horns.</p>
+
+<p>"Dem Yanks done take all de flour and meal and wheat and corn and smoked
+meat. After dat master fixes up a place in de ceilin' to store stuff, and a
+trap door so when it closed you couldn't tell its dere.</p>
+
+<p>"I lives in and round de old place till 1910, den comes to Texas. I jist
+works round and farms and gits by, but I ain't never done nothin' worth tellin'.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420257" id="nr420257"></a>420257</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;">
+<img src="images/305nelsendenson.png" width="40%" height="40%" alt="Nelsen Denson" title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">Nelsen Denson</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>NELSEN DENSON, 90, was born
+near Hambirg, Arkansas, a
+slave of Jim Nelson, who sold
+Nelsen and his family to Felix
+Grundy. Nelsen's memory is
+poor, but he managed to recall
+a few incidents. He now lives
+in Waco, Texas.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"I'll be ninety years old this December, (1937). I was born in
+Arkansas, up in Ashley County, and it was the twenty-second day of December
+in 1847. My mammy was from Virginny and pappy was from old Kentucky, and
+I was one of they eight chillen. Our owner, Marse Jim Densen, brung us to
+Texas and settled near Marlin, but got in debt and sold as all to Marse
+Felix Grundy, and he kep' us till freedom, and most of us worked for him
+after that.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Jim Densen had a easy livin' in Arkansas, but folks everywhere
+was comin' to Texas and he 'cides to throw in his fortunes. It wasn't so
+long after that war with Mexico and folks come in a crowd to 'tect theyselves
+'gainst Indians and wild animals. The wolves was the worst to smell cookin'
+and sneak into camp, but Indians come up and makes the peace sign and has
+a pow wow with the white folks. Marse git beads or cloth and trade for leather
+breeches and things.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to tell how we crosses the Red River on de Red River Raft. Back
+in them days the Red River was near closed up by dis timber raft and de big
+boats couldn't git up de river at all. We gits a li'l boat, and a Caddo Indian
+to guide us. Dis Red River raft dey say was centuries old. De driftwood floatin'
+down de river stops in de still waters and makes a bunch of trees and de dirt
+'cumulates, and broomstraws and willows and brush grows out dis rich dirt what
+cover de driftwood. Dis raft growed 'bout a mile a year and de oldes' timber
+rots and breaks away, but dis not fast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>
+'nough to keep de river clear. We found bee trees on de raft and had honey.</p>
+
+<p>"It was long time after us come to Texas when de gov'ment opens up de
+channel. Dat am in 1873. 'Fore dat, a survey done been made and dey found de
+raft am a hundred and twenty-eight miles long. When we was on dat raft it am
+like a big swamp, with trees and thick brush and de driftwood and logs all wedge
+up tight 'tween everything.</p>
+
+<p>"'Fore Texas secedes, Marse Jensen done sell us all to Marse Felix Grundy,
+and he goes to war in General Hardeman's Brigade and is with him for bodyguard.
+When de battle of Mansfield come I'm sixteen years old. We was camped on the
+Sabine River, on the Texas side, and the Yanks on the other side a li'l ways. I
+'member the night 'fore the battle, how the campfires looked, and a quiet night
+and the whippoorwills callin' in the weeds. We was 'spectin' a 'tack and sings
+to keep cheerful. The Yanks sings the 'Battle Cry of Freedom' when they charges
+us. They come on and on and, Lawd, how they fit! I stays clost to Marse Grundy
+and the rebels wins and takes 'bout a thousand Yanks.</p>
+
+<p>"Most the slaves was happy, the ones I knowed. They figgers the white men
+fightin' for some principal, but lots of them didn't care nothin' 'bout bein'
+free. I s'pose some was with bad white folks, but not round us. We had more to
+eat and now I'm so old I wouldn't feel bad if I had old marse to look after me
+'gain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="number"><a name="nr420131" id="nr420131"></a>420131</div>
+
+
+<div class="intro"><p>VICTOR DUHON was born 97 years
+ago in Lafayette Parish, La.,
+a slave of the Duhon family.
+His blue eyes and almost white
+skin are evidence of the white
+strain in his blood. Even after
+many years of association with
+English speaking persons, he
+speaks a French patois, and his
+story was interpreted by a
+Beaumont French teacher.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My papa was Lucien Duhon and my mama Euripe Dupuis. I was
+born over in Louisiana in Lafayette Parish, between Broussard and
+Warville. I'm 97 years old now.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't have brothers or sisters, except half ones. It is
+like this, my mama was a house servant in the Duhon family. She was
+the hairdresser. One day she barbered master's son, who was Lucien.
+He says that he'll shave her head if she won't do what he likes. After
+that she his woman till he marries a white lady.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandmama was stolen from Africa and she lived to be 125
+years old. She died last year in April. I think I'll live long as she
+did. There were fifteen slaves on the land what Duhon's had but I
+never ran around with them. I had room at the back of the big house.
+You know, Madame Duhon was my grandmama. She was good to me. The
+only thing I did was look to my master's horse and be coachman for
+Madame. Master had four sons. They were Ragant and Jaques and Lucien
+and Desire. Desire was shot at the dance.</p>
+
+<p>"Master had about 100 acres in cotton and the corn. He had
+a slave for to hunt all the time. He didn't do other things. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>
+partridge and the rice birds he killed were cooked for the white folks.
+The owls and the rabbits and the coons and the possums were cooked for
+us. They had a big room for us to eat in. Where they cook they had a
+long oven with a piece down the middle. They cooked the white folks things
+on one side. They cooked their own things on the other. They had each
+ones pots and skillets.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't play much with the black children. My time went waiting
+on my white folks.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes the priest came to say Mass. The slaves went to Mass.
+The priest married and baptized the slaves. They gave a feast of baptizing.
+We all had real beef meat that day.</p>
+
+<p>"When my mama had 22 years she married a Polite Landry slave. Then
+she went to the Landry plantation. There was often marrying between the
+two plantations. When they married the wife went to her man's plantation.
+That made no difference. It wouldn't be long before a girl from the other
+place marry into the man's plantation. That kept things in balance.</p>
+
+<p>"My mama married Fairjuste Williams. They had two sons and a
+daughter. I didn't know them so much. They were half brothers and sister.</p>
+
+<p>"I had 22 years when war came. You know what war I mean. The war
+when the slaves were set free. I wasn't bothered about freedom. Didn't
+leave master till he died. Then I went to work for Mr. Polite Landry.</p>
+
+<p>"I was always in good hands. Some slaves ware treated bad. Mr.
+Natale Vallean beat up a slave for stealing. He beat him so hard he lay
+in front of the gate a whole day and the night.</p>
+
+<p>"I worked on farms all my life. Then I came to Beaumont. About
+23 years ago, it was. I worked at anything. Now I'm too old. I live
+with my daughter.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="trnote">
+<h2><a name="Transcribers_Corrections" id="Transcribers_Corrections"></a>Transcriber's Corrections:</h2>
+<p><a href='#TC_1'>Page 3</a>: Then (and weepin' when they sot us free. Lots of them didn't want to be free, 'cause they knowed nothin' and had nowhere to go. <b>Them</b> what had good massas stayed right on.)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_2'>Page 14</a>: too (niggers. There am 'bout 30 old and young niggers and 'bout 20 piccaninnies too little <b>to</b> work, and de nuss cares for dem while dey mammies works.)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_3'>Page 28</a>: way ("I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr. Will set us all free. I was 'bout 17 year old then or more. I <b>say</b> I goin' find my mamma. Mr. Will fixes me up two papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some smaller, but both)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_4'>Page 52</a>: Mockbateman ("My pappy was Ike Bateman, 'cause his massa's name am <b>Mock Bateman</b>, and mammy's name was Francis. They come from Tennessee and I had four brothers and six sisters. We jes' left de last part)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_5'>Page 67</a>: home-make ("Marster have de plank house and all de things in it was <b>home-made</b>. De cook was a old cullud woman and I eat at de kitchen table and)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_6'>Page 85</a>: bit ("Every year they have <b>big</b> Christmas dinner and ham and turkey and allus feed us good. Us have Christmas party and sing songs. That)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_7'>Page 90</a>: LaSan (slave born. My papa was Olivier Blanchard and he white man carpenter on old plantation. We belong to Clairville <b>La San</b> and all live on that place. My papa just plain carpenter but could draw patterns for)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_8'>Page 114</a>: chilen (School. Dem was good times. De mistus cook dinner and send it down for de old folks and <b>chillen</b> to have plenty.)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_9'>Page 147</a>: bit ("Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't have no old missus, 'cause he was a bachelor. He had a big plantation. I don't know how <b>big</b> but dey somethin' like twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_10'>Page 164</a>: nyself ("I seed some bad sight in slavery, but ain' never been 'bused <b>myself</b>. I seed chillun too lil' to walk from dey mammies sol' right off de block)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_11'>Page 195</a>: tim (Ross drives de cattle north and I says to him, 'I's good hand at de drive. Kin I go with you nex' <b>time</b> you goes north?' And not long after dat we starts and we gits to Kansas City. After Marster Ross gets shut of)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_12'>Page 211</a>: women (I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I left and raised a family of chillen. I saw Missie Adeline and she was a old <b>woman</b>. We went out and looked at the tombstones and the rock markers in the graveyard on the old place, and some of)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_13'>Page 212</a>: woned ("My master was Dick Townes and my folks come with him from Alabama. He <b>owned</b>a big plantation fifteen miles from Austin and worked lots of slaves. We had the best master in the whole county, and everybody called)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_14'>Page 214</a>: gen'zen ("Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old <b>gen'man</b>, with a big bald place on he head, and he am good to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_15'>Page 226</a>: bit (best men I ever knows in my whole life and his wife was jes' like him. Dey had a <b>big</b>, four-room log house with a big hall down the center up and down. De logs was all peeled and de chinkin' a diff'rent color from de logs and)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_16'>Page 228</a>: "e" (De war am on, but us don't see none of it. But 'stead of eatin' cornbread, us eats bread out of kaffir corn and maize. <b>"We</b> raises lots of okra and dey say it gwine be parch and grind to make coffee for white folks. Dat didn't)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_17'>Page 251</a>: conb (I go to milk I puts her in de trough. I saved her life lots of times. One time she's on de <b>cone</b> of de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years old. I eases up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me. 'Nother)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_18'>Page 258</a>: Day (woman a big, red pocket handkerchief and a bottle of liquor. He buyed dat liquor by de barrel and liked it hisself. <b>Dat</b> why he allus had it on de place.)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_19'>Page 262</a>: outselves ("We mos'ly lived on corn pone and salt bacon de marster give us. We didn't have no gardens <b>ourselves</b>, 'cause we wouldn't have time to work in dem. We worked all day in de fields and den was so tired we couldn't)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_20'>Page 263</a>: Weht (usually split from hem to neck and I had to wear them till they was strings. <b>Went</b> barefoot summer and winter till the feets crack open.)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_21'>Page 267</a>: bit ("Dey feeds us well sometimes, if dey warn't mad at us. Dey has a big trough jes' like de trough for de pigs and dey has a <b>big</b> gourd and dey totes de gourd full of milk and dey breaks de bread in de milk. Den my mammy)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_22'>Page 289</a>: whay (us call Massa John, and he wife, Miss Lizzie, and we is de only cullud folks <b>what</b> dey owns.)</p>
+<p><a href='#TC_23'>Page 292</a>: everhas (more carpet baggers and liars dan you ever has seed, and you'll be worse off den you <b>ever has</b> been, if you has anythin' to do with dem. Den she opens de book and tells us all when us born and how old us am, so us have some record 'bout)</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery
+in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves
+       Texas Narratives, Part 1
+
+Author: Work Projects Administration
+
+Release Date: December 2, 2009 [EBook #30576]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES--TEXAS, PART 1 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
+generously made available by the Library of Congress,
+Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+|                                                              |
+| Transcriber's Note:                                          |
+|                                                              |
+| I. Inconsistent punctuation has been silently corrected      |
+| throughout the book.                                         |
+|                                                              |
+| II. Clear spelling mistakes have been corrected however,     |
+| inconsistent language usage (such as 'day' and 'dey')        |
+| has been maintained. A list of corrections is included       |
+| at the end of the book.                                      |
+|                                                              |
+| III. The numbers at the start of each interview were stamped |
+| into the original work and refer to the number of the        |
+| published interview in the context of the entire Slave       |
+| Narratives project.                                          |
+|                                                              |
+| IV. Two handwritten notes have been retained and are         |
+| annotated as such.                                           |
+|                                                              |
+|                                                              |
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+SLAVE NARRATIVES
+
+
+_A Folk History of Slavery in the United States
+From Interviews with Former Slaves_
+
+
+TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY
+THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT
+1936-1938
+ASSEMBLED BY
+THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT
+WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION
+FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
+SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
+
+
+_Illustrated with Photographs_
+
+
+WASHINGTON 1941
+VOLUME XVI
+
+TEXAS NARRATIVES
+
+PART 1
+
+
+Prepared by
+the Federal Writers' Project of
+the Works Progress Administration
+for the State of Texas
+
+
+
+
+INFORMANTS
+
+
+Adams, Will                             1
+
+Adams, William                          4
+
+Adams, William M.                       9
+
+Allen, Sarah                           12
+
+Anderson, Andy                         14
+
+Anderson, George Washington (Wash)     17
+
+Anderson, Willis                       21
+
+Armstrong, Mary                        25
+
+Arnwine, Stearlin                      31
+
+Ashley, Sarah                          34
+
+
+Babino, Agatha                         37
+
+Barclay, Mrs. John                     39
+
+Barker, John                           42
+
+Barnes, Joe                            45
+
+Barrett, Armstead                      47
+
+Barrett, Harriet                       49
+
+Bates, John                            51
+
+Beckett, Harrison                      54
+
+Bell, Frank                            59
+
+Bell, Virginia                         62
+
+Bendy, Edgar                           66
+
+Bendy, Minerva                         68
+
+Benjamin, Sarah                        70
+
+Bess, Jack                             72
+
+Betts, Ellen                           75
+
+Beverly, Charlotte                     84
+
+Black, Francis                         87
+
+Blanchard, Olivier                     90
+
+Blanks, Julia                          93
+
+Boles, Elvira                         106
+
+Bormer (Bonner), Betty                109
+
+Boyd, Harrison                        112
+
+Boyd, Issabella                       114
+
+Boyd, James                           117
+
+Boykins, Jerry                        121
+
+Brackins, Monroe                      124
+
+Bradshaw, Gus                         130
+
+Brady, Wes                            133
+
+Branch, Jacob                         137
+
+Branch, William                       143
+
+Brim, Clara                           147
+
+Brooks, Sylvester                     149
+
+Broussard, Donaville                  151
+
+Brown, Fannie                         154
+
+Brown, Fred                           156
+
+Brown, James                          160
+
+Brown, Josie                          163
+
+Brown, Zek                            166
+
+Bruin, Madison                        169
+
+Bunton, Martha Spence                 174
+
+Butler, Ellen                         176
+
+Buttler, Henry H.                     179
+
+Byrd, William                         182
+
+
+Cain, Louis                           185
+
+Calhoun, Jeff                         188
+
+Campbell, Simp                        191
+
+Cape, James                           193
+
+Carruthers, Richard                   197
+
+Carter, Cato                          202
+
+Cauthern, Jack                        212
+
+Chambers, Sally Banks                 214
+
+Choice, Jeptha                        217
+
+Clark, Amos                           220
+
+Clark, Anne                           223
+
+Cole, Thomas                          225
+
+Coleman, Eli                          236
+
+Coleman, Preely                       240
+
+Collins, Harriet                      242
+
+Columbus, Andrew (Smoky)              246
+
+Connally, Steve                       249
+
+Cormier, Valmar                       252
+
+Cornish, Laura                        254
+
+Crawford, John                        257
+
+Cumby, Green                          260
+
+Cummins, Tempie                       263
+
+Cunningham, Adeline                   266
+
+
+Daily, Will                           269
+
+Daniels, Julia Francis                273
+
+Darling, Katie                        278
+
+Davenport, Carey                      281
+
+Davis, Campbell                       285
+
+Davis, William                        289
+
+Davison, Eli                          295
+
+Davison, Elige                        298
+
+Day, John                             302
+
+Denson, Nelsen                        305
+
+Duhon, Victor                         307
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                              Facing Page
+Will Adams                              1
+
+William Adams                           4
+
+Mary Armstrong                         25
+
+Sterlin Arnwine                        31
+
+Sarah Ashley                           34
+
+Edgar and Minerva Bendy                66
+
+Jack Bess's House                      72
+
+Jack Bess                              72
+
+Charlotte Beverly                      84
+
+Francis Black                          87
+
+Betty Bormer (Bonner)                 109
+
+Issabella Boyd                        114
+
+James Boyd                            117
+
+Monroe Brackins                       124
+
+Wes Brady                             133
+
+William Branch                        143
+
+Clara Brim                            147
+
+Sylvester Brooks                      149
+
+Donaville Broussard                   151
+
+Fannie Brown                          154
+
+Fred Brown                            156
+
+James Brown                           160
+
+Josie Brown                           163
+
+Zek Brown                             166
+
+Martha Spence Bunton                  174
+
+Ellen Butler                          176
+
+Simp Campbell                         191
+
+James Cape                            193
+
+Cato Carter                           202
+
+Amos Clark's Sorghum Mill             220
+
+Amos Clark                            220
+
+Anne Clark                            223
+
+Preely Coleman                        240
+
+Steve Connally                        249
+
+Steve Connally's House                249
+
+Valmar Cormier                        252
+
+John Crawford                         257
+
+Green Cumby                           260
+
+Tempie Cummins                        263
+
+Adeline Cunningham                    266
+
+Will Daily's House                    269
+
+Will Daily                            269
+
+Julia Francis Daniels                 273
+
+Katie Darling                         278
+
+Carey Davenport                       281
+
+Campbell Davis                        285
+
+Nelsen Denson                         305
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE STORIES
+
+(Texas)
+
+
+
+
+420241
+
+
+[Illustration: Will Adams]
+
+
+     WILL ADAMS was born in 1857, a slave of Dave Cavin, in Harrison
+     Co., Texas. He remained with the Cavins until 1885, then farmed for
+     himself. Will lives alone in Marshall, Texas, supported by a $13.00
+     monthly pension.
+
+
+"My folks allus belongs to the Cavins and wore their name till after
+'mancipation. Pa and ma was named Freeman and Amelia Cavin and Massa
+Dave fotches them to Texas from Alabama, along with ma's mother, what we
+called Maria.
+
+"The Cavins allus thunk lots of their niggers and Grandma Maria say,
+'Why shouldn't they--it was their money.' She say there was plenty
+Indians here when they settled this country and they bought and traded
+with them without killin' them, if they could. The Indians was poor
+folks, jus' pilfer and loaf 'round all the time. The niggers was a heap
+sight better off than they was, 'cause we had plenty to eat and a place
+to stay.
+
+"Young Massa Tom was my special massa and he still lives here. Old Man
+Dave seemed to think more of his niggers than anybody and we thunk lots
+of our white folks. My pa was leader on the farm, and there wasn't no
+overseer or driver. When pa whip a nigger he needn't go to Massa Dave,
+but pa say, 'Go you way, you nigger. Freeman didn't whip you for
+nothin'.' Massa Dave allus believe pa, 'cause he tells the truth.
+
+"One time a peddler come to our house and after supper he goes to see
+'bout his pony. Pa done feed that pony fifteen ears of corn. The peddler
+tell massa his pony ain't been fed nothin', and massa git mad and say,
+'Be on you way iffen you gwine 'cuse my niggers of lyin'.'
+
+"We had good quarters and plenty to eat. I 'members when I's jus'
+walkin' round good pa come in from the field at night and taken me out
+of bed and dress me and feed me and then play with me for hours. Him
+bein' leader, he's gone from 'fore day till after night. The old heads
+got out early but us young scraps slep' till eight or nine o'clock, and
+don't you think Massa Dave ain't comin' round to see we is fed. I
+'members him like it was yest'day, comin' to the quarters with his stick
+and askin' us, 'Had your breakfas'?' We'd say, 'Yes, suh.' Then he'd ask
+if we had 'nough or wanted any more. It look like he taken a pleasure in
+seein' us eat. At dinner, when the field hands come in, it am the same
+way. He was sho' that potlicker was fill as long as the niggers want to
+eat.
+
+"The hands worked from sun to sun. Massa give them li'l crops and let
+them work them on Saturday. Then he bought the stuff and the niggers go
+to Jefferson and buy clothes and sech like. Lots saved money and bought
+freedom 'fore the war was over.
+
+"We went to church and first the white preacher preached and then he
+larns our cullud preachers. I seed him ordain a cullud preacher and he
+told him to allus be honest. When the white preacher laid his hand on
+him, all the niggers git to hollerin' and shoutin' and prayin' and that
+nigger git scart mos' to death.
+
+"On Christmas we had all we could eat and drink and after that a big
+party, and you ought to see them gals swingin' they partners round. Then
+massa have two niggers wrestle, and our sports and dances was big sport
+for the white folks. They'd sit on the gallery and watch the niggers put
+it on brown.
+
+"Massa didn't like his niggers to marry off the place, but sometimes
+they'd do it, and massa tell his neighbor, 'My nigger am comin' to you
+place. Make him behave.' All the niggers 'haved then and they wasn't no
+Huntsville and gallows and burnin's then.
+
+"Old massa went to war with his boy, Billie. They's lots of cryin' and
+weepin' when they sot us free. Lots of them didn't want to be free,
+'cause they knowed nothin' and had nowhere to go. Them what had good
+massas stayed right on.
+
+"I 'members when that Ku Klux business starts up. Smart niggers causes
+that. The carpet-baggers ruint the niggers and the white men couldn't do
+a thing with them, so they got up the Ku Klux and stirs up the world.
+Them carpet-baggers come round larnin' niggers to sass the white folks
+what done fed them. They come to pa with that talk and he told them,
+'Listen, white folks, you is gwine start a graveyard if you come round
+here teachin' niggers to sass white folks." Them carpet-baggers starts
+all the trouble at 'lections in Reconstruction. Niggers didn't know
+anythin' 'bout politics.
+
+"Mos' the young niggers ain't usin' the education they got now. I's been
+here eighty years and still has to be showed and told by white folks.
+These young niggers won't git told by whites or blacks either. They
+thinks they done knowed it all and that gits them in trouble.
+
+"I stays with the Cavins mos' twenty years after the war. After I
+leaves, I allus farms and does odd jobs round town here. I's father of
+ten chillen by one woman. I lives by myself now and they gives me $13.00
+a month. I'd be proud to git it if it wasn't more'n a dollar, 'cause
+they ain't nothin' a old man can do no more.
+
+
+
+
+420055
+
+
+[Illustration: William Adams]
+
+
+     WILLIAM ADAMS, 93, was born in slavery, with no opportunity for an
+     education, except three months in a public school. He has taught
+     himself to read and to write. His lifelong ambition has been to
+     become master of the supernatural powers which he believes to
+     exist. He is now well-known among Southwestern Negroes for his
+     faith in the occult.
+
+
+"Yous want to know and talk about de power de people tells you I has.
+Well, sit down here, right there in dat chair, befo' we'uns starts. I
+gits some ice water and den we'uns can discuss de subject. I wants to
+'splain it clearly, so yous can understand.
+
+"I's born a slave, 93 years ago, so of course I 'members de war period.
+Like all de other slaves I has no chance for edumacation. Three months
+am de total time I's spent going to school. I teached myself to read and
+write. I's anxious to larn to read so I could study and find out about
+many things. Dat, I has done.
+
+"There am lots of folks, and edumacated ones, too, what says we'uns
+believes in superstition. Well, its 'cause dey don't understand. 'Member
+de Lawd, in some of His ways, can be mysterious. De Bible says so. There
+am some things de Lawd wants all folks to know, some things jus' de
+chosen few to know, and some things no one should know. Now, jus' 'cause
+yous don't know 'bout some of de Lawd's laws, 'taint superstition if
+some other person understands and believes in sich.
+
+"There is some born to sing, some born to preach, and some born to know
+de signs. There is some born under de power of de devil and have de
+power to put injury and misery on people, and some born under de power
+of de Lawd for to do good and overcome de evil power. Now, dat produces
+two forces, like fire and water. De evil forces starts de fire and I has
+de water force to put de fire out.
+
+"How I larnt sich? Well, I's done larn it. It come to me. When de Lawd
+gives sich power to a person, it jus' comes to 'em. It am 40 years ago
+now when I's fust fully realize' dat I has de power. However, I's allus
+int'rested in de workin's of de signs. When I's a little piccaninny, my
+mammy and other folks used to talk about de signs. I hears dem talk
+about what happens to folks 'cause a spell was put on 'em. De old folks
+in dem days knows more about de signs dat de Lawd uses to reveal His
+laws den de folks of today. It am also true of de cullud folks in
+Africa, dey native land. Some of de folks laughs at their beliefs and
+says it am superstition, but it am knowin' how de Lawd reveals His laws.
+
+"Now, let me tell yous of something I's seen. What am seen, can't be
+doubted. It happens when I's a young man and befo' I's realize' dat I's
+one dat am chosen for to show de power. A mule had cut his leg so bad
+dat him am bleedin' to death and dey couldn't stop it. An old cullud man
+live near there dat dey turns to. He comes over and passes his hand over
+de cut. Befo' long de bleedin' stop and dat's de power of de Lawd
+workin' through dat nigger, dat's all it am.
+
+"I knows about a woman dat had lost her mind. De doctor say it was
+caused from a tumor in de head. Dey took an ex-ray picture, but dere's
+no tumor. Dey gives up and says its a peculiar case. Dat woman was took
+to one with de power of de good spirit and he say its a peculiar case
+for dem dat don't understand. Dis am a case of de evil spell. Two days
+after, de woman have her mind back.
+
+"Dey's lots of dose kind of cases de ord'nary person never hear about.
+Yous hear of de case de doctors can't understand, nor will dey 'spond to
+treatment. Dat am 'cause of de evil spell dat am on de persons.
+
+"'Bout special persons bein' chosen for to show de power, read yous
+Bible. It says in de book of Mark, third chapter, 'and He ordained
+twelve, dat dey should be with Him, dat He might send them forth to
+preach and to have de power to heal de sick and to cast out devils.' If
+it wasn't no evil in people, why does de Lawd say, 'cast out sich?' And
+in de fifth chapter of James, it further say, 'If any am sick, let him
+call de elders. Let dem pray over him. De prayers of faith shall save
+him.' There 'tis again, Faith, dat am what counts.
+
+"When I tells dat I seen many persons given up to die, and den a man
+with de power comes and saves sich person, den its not for people to say
+it am superstition to believe in de power.
+
+"Don't forgit--de agents of de devil have de power of evil. Dey can put
+misery of every kind on people. Dey can make trouble with de work and
+with de business, with de fam'ly and with de health. So folks mus' be on
+de watch all de time. Folks has business trouble 'cause de evil power
+have control of 'em. Dey has de evil power cast out and save de
+business. There am a man in Waco dat come to see me 'bout dat. He say to
+me everything he try to do in de las' six months turned out wrong. It
+starts with him losin' his pocketbook with $50.00 in it. He buys a
+carload of hay and it catch fire and he los' all of it. He spends
+$200.00 advertisin' de three-day sale and it begin to rain, so he los'
+money. It sho' am de evil power.
+
+"'Well,' he say, 'Dat am de way it go, so I comes to you.'
+
+"I says to him, 'Its de evil power dat have you control and we'uns shall
+cause it to be cast out.' Its done and he has no more trouble.
+
+"You wants to know if persons with de power for good can be successful
+in castin' out devils in all cases? Well, I answers dat, yes and no. Dey
+can in every case if de affected person have de faith. If de party not
+have enough faith, den it am a failure.
+
+"Wearin' de coin for protection 'gainst de evil power? Dat am simple.
+Lots of folks wears sich and dey uses mixtures dat am sprinkled in de
+house, and sich. Dat am a question of faith. If dey has de true faith in
+sich, it works. Otherwise, it won't.
+
+"Some folks won't think for a minute of goin' without lodestone or de
+salt and pepper mixture in de little sack, tied round dey neck. Some
+wears de silver coin tied round dey neck. All sich am for to keep away
+de effect of de evil power. When one have de faith in sich and dey
+acc'dently lose de charm, dey sho' am miserable.
+
+"An old darky dat has faith in lodestone for de charm told me de
+'sperience he has in Atlanta once. He carryin' de hod and de fust thing
+he does am drop some brick on he foot. De next thing, he foot slip as
+him starts up de ladder and him and de bricks drap to de ground. It am
+lucky for him it wasn't far. Jus' a sprain ankle and de boss sends him
+home for de day. He am 'cited and gits on de street car and when de
+conductor call for de fare, Rufus reaches for he money but he los' it
+or fergits it at home. De conductor say he let him pay nex' time and
+asks where he live. Rufus tells him and he say, 'Why, nigger, you is on
+de wrong car.' Dat cause Rufus to walk further with de lame foot dan if
+he started walkin' in de fust place. He thinks there mus' be something
+wrong with he charm, and he look for it and it gone! Sho' 'nough, it am
+los'. He think, 'Here I sits all day, and I won't make another move till
+I gits de lodestone. When de chillen comes from school I sends dem to de
+drugstore for some of de stone and gits fixed.'
+
+"Now, now, I's been waitin' for dat one 'bout de black cat crossin' de
+road, and, sho' 'nough, it come. Let me ask you one. How many people can
+yous find dat likes to have de black cat cross in front of 'em? Dat's
+right, no one likes dat. Let dis old cullud person inform yous dat it am
+sho' de bad luck sign. It is sign of bad luck ahead, so turn back. Stop
+what yous doin'.
+
+"I's tellin' yous of two of many cases of failure to took warnin' from
+de black cat. I knows a man call' Miller. His wife and him am takin' an
+auto ride and de black cat cross de road and he cussed a little and goes
+on. Den it's not long till he turns de corner and his wife falls out of
+de car durin' de turn. When he goes back and picks her up, she am dead.
+
+"Another fellow, call' Brown, was a-ridin' hossback and a black cat
+cross de path, but he drives on. Well, its not long till him hoss
+stumble and throw him off. De fall breaks his leg, so take a
+warnin'--don't overlook de black cat. Dat am a warnin'.
+
+
+
+
+420192
+
+
+     WILLIAM M. ADAMS, spiritualist preacher and healer, who lives at
+     1404 Illinois Ave., Ft. Worth, Texas, was born a slave on the James
+     Davis plantation, in San Jacinto Co., Texas. After the war he
+     worked in a grocery, punched cattle, farmed and preached. He moved
+     to Ft. Worth in 1902.
+
+
+"I was bo'n 93 years ago, dat is whut my mother says. We didn' keep no
+record like folks does today. All I know is I been yere a long time. My
+mother, she was Julia Adams and my father he was James Adams. She's bo'n
+in Hollis Springs, Mississippi and my father, now den, he was bo'n in
+Florida. He was a Black Creek Indian. Dere was 12 of us chillen. When I
+was 'bout seven de missus, she come and gits me for her servant. I lived
+in de big house till she die. Her and Marster Davis was powerful good to
+me.
+
+"Marster Davis he was a big lawyer and de owner of a plantation. But all
+I do was wait on ole missus. I'd light her pipe for her and I helped her
+wid her knittin'. She give me money all de time. She had a little trunk
+she keeped money in and lots of times I'd have to pack it down wid my
+feets.
+
+"I dis'member jus' how many slaves dere was, but dere was more'n 100. I
+saw as much as 100 sold at a time. When dey tuk a bunch of slaves to
+trade, dey put chains on 'em.
+
+"De other slaves lived in log cabins back of de big house. Dey had dirt
+floors and beds dat was made out of co'n shucks or straw. At nite dey
+burned de lamps for 'bout an hour, den de overseers, dey come knock on
+de door and tell 'em put de light out. Lots of overseers was mean.
+Sometimes dey'd whip a nigger wid a leather strap 'bout a foot wide and
+long as your arm and wid a wooden handle at de end.
+
+"On Sat'day and Sunday nites dey'd dance and sing all nite long. Dey
+didn' dance like today, dey danced de roun' dance and jig and do de
+pigeon wing, and some of dem would jump up and see how many time he
+could kick his feets 'fore dey hit de groun'. Dey had an ole fiddle and
+some of 'em would take two bones in each hand and rattle 'em. Dey sang
+songs like, 'Diana had a Wooden Leg,' and 'A Hand full of Sugar,' and
+'Cotton-eyed Joe.' I dis'member how dey went.
+
+"De slaves didn' have no church den, but dey'd take a big sugar kettle
+and turn it top down on de groun' and put logs roun' it to kill de
+soun'. Dey'd pray to be free and sing and dance.
+
+"When war come dey come and got de slaves from all de plantations and
+tuk 'em to build de breastworks. I saw lots of soldiers. Dey'd sing a
+song dat go something like dis:
+
+"'Jeff Davis rode a big white hoss,
+Lincoln rode a mule;
+Jess Davis is our President,
+Lincoln is a fool.'
+
+"I 'member when de slaves would run away. Ole John Billinger, he had a
+bunch of dogs and he'd take after runaway niggers. Sometimes de dogs
+didn' ketch de nigger. Den ole Billinger, he'd cuss and kick de dogs.
+
+"We didn' have to have a pass but on other plantations dey did, or de
+paddlerollers would git you and whip you. Dey was de poor white folks
+dat didn' have no slaves. We didn' call 'em white folks dem days. No,
+suh, we called dem' Buskrys.'
+
+"Jus' fore de war, a white preacher he come to us slaves and says: 'Do
+you wan' to keep you homes whar you git all to eat, and raise your
+chillen, or do you wan' to be free to roam roun' without a home, like de
+wil' animals? If you wan' to keep you homes you better pray for de South
+to win. All day wan's to pray for de South to win, raise the
+hand.' We all raised our hands 'cause we was skeered not to, but we sho'
+didn' wan' de South to win.
+
+"Dat night all de slaves had a meetin' down in de hollow. Ole Uncle
+Mack, he gits up and says: 'One time over in Virginny dere was two ole
+niggers, Uncle Bob and Uncle Tom. Dey was mad at one 'nuther and one day
+dey decided to have a dinner and bury de hatchet. So day sat
+down, and when Uncle Bob wasn't lookin' Uncle Tom put some poison in
+Uncle Bob's food, but he saw it and when Uncle Tom wasn't lookin', Uncle
+Bob he turned de tray roun' on Uncle Tom, and he gits de poison food.'
+Uncle Mack, he says: 'Dat's what we slaves is gwine do, jus' turn de
+tray roun' and pray for de North to win.'
+
+"After de war dere was a lot of excitement 'mong de niggers. Dey was
+rejoicin' and singin'. Some of 'em looked puzzled, sorter skeered like.
+But dey danced and had a big jamboree.
+
+"Lots of 'em stayed and worked on de halves. Others hired out. I went to
+work in a grocery store and he paid me $1.50 a week. I give my mother de
+dollar and keeped de half. Den I got married and farmed for awhile. Den
+I come to Fort Worth and I been yere since.
+
+
+
+
+420198
+
+
+     SARAH ALLEN was born a slave of John and Sally Goodren, in the Blue
+     Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Before the Civil War, her owners came
+     to Texas, locating near a small town then called Freedom. She lives
+     at 3322 Frutas St., El Paso, Texas.
+
+
+"I was birthed in time of bondage. You know, some people are ashamed to
+tell it, but I thank God I was 'llowed to see them times as well as now.
+It's a pretty hard story, how cruel some of the marsters was, but I had
+the luck to be with good white people. But some I knew were put on the
+block and sold. I 'member when they'd come to John Goodren's place to
+buy, but he not sell any. They'd have certain days when they'd sell off
+the block and they took chillen 'way from mothers, screamin' for dere
+chillen.
+
+"I was birthed in ole Virginia in de Blue Ridge Mountains. When de white
+people come to Texas, de cullud people come with them. Dat's been a long
+time.
+
+"My maw was named Charlotte, my paw Parks Adams. He's a white man. I
+guess I'm about eighty some years ole.
+
+"You know, in slavery times when dey had bad marsters dey'd run away,
+but we didn' want to. My missus would see her people had something good
+to eat every Sunday mornin'. You had to mind your missus and marster and
+you be treated well. I think I was about twelve when dey freed us and we
+stayed with marster 'bout a year, then went to John Ecols' place and
+rented some lan'. We made two bales of cotton and it was the first money
+we ever saw.
+
+"Back when we lived with Marster Goodren we had big candy pullin's.
+Invite everybody and play. We had good times. De worst thing, we didn'
+never have no schoolin' till after I married. Den I went to school two
+weeks. My husban' was teacher. He never was a slave. His father bought
+freedom through a blacksmith shop, some way.
+
+"I had a nice weddin'. My dress was white and trimmed with blue ribbon.
+My second day dress was white with red dots. I had a beautiful veil and
+a wreath and 'bout two, three waiters for table dat day.
+
+"My mother was nearly white. Brighter than me. We lef' my father in
+Virginia. I was jus' as white as de chillen I played with. I used to be
+plum bright, but here lately I'm gettin' awful dark.
+
+"My husban' was of a mixture, like you call bright ginger-cake color. I
+don' know where he got his learnin'. I feel so bad since he's gone to
+Glory.
+
+"Now I'm ole, de Lord has taken care of me. He put that spirit in people
+to look after ole folks and now my chillen look after me. I've two sons,
+one name James Allen, one R.M. Both live in El Paso.
+
+"After we go to sleep, de people will know these things, 'cause if
+freedom hadn' come, it would have been so miserable.
+
+
+
+
+420149
+
+
+     ANDY ANDERSON, 94, was born a slave of Jack Haley, who owned a
+     plantation in Williamson Co., Texas. During the Civil War, Andy was
+     sold to W.T. House, of Blanco County, who in less than a year sold
+     Andy to his brother, John House. Andy now lives with his third wife
+     and eight of his children at 301 Armour St., Fort Worth, Texas.
+
+
+"My name am Andy J. Anderson, and I's born on Massa Jack Haley's
+plantation in Williamson County, Texas, and Massa Haley owned my folks
+and 'bout twelve other families of niggers. I's born in 1843 and that
+makes me 94 year old and 18 year when de war starts. I's had 'speriences
+durin' dat time.
+
+"Massa Haley am kind to his cullud folks, and him am kind to everybody,
+and all de folks likes him. De other white folks called we'uns de petted
+niggers. There am 'bout 30 old and young niggers and 'bout 20
+piccaninnies too little to work, and de nuss cares for dem while dey
+mammies works.
+
+"I's gwine 'splain how it am managed on Massa Haley's plantation. It am
+sort of like de small town, 'cause everything we uses am made right
+there. There am de shoemaker and he is de tanner and make de leather
+from de hides. Den massa has 'bout a thousand sheep and he gits de wool,
+and de niggers cards and spins and weaves it, and dat makes all de
+clothes. Den massa have cattle and sich purvide de milk and de butter
+and beef meat for eatin'. Den massa have de turkeys and chickens and de
+hawgs and de bees. With all that, us never was hongry.
+
+"De plantation am planted in cotton, mostly, with de corn and de wheat a
+little, 'cause massa don't need much of dem. He never sell nothin' but
+de cotton.
+
+"De livin' for de cullud folks am good. De quarters am built from logs
+like deys all in dem days. De floor am de dirt but we has de benches and
+what is made on de place. And we has de big fireplace for to cook and we
+has plenty to cook in dat fireplace, 'cause massa allus 'lows plenty
+good rations, but he watch close for de wastin' of de food.
+
+"De war breaks and dat make de big change on de massas place. He jines
+de army and hires a man call' Delbridge for overseer. After dat, de hell
+start to pop, 'cause de first thing Delbridge do is cut de rations. He
+weighs out de meat, three pound for de week, and he measure a peck of
+meal. And 'twarn't enough. He half starve us niggers and he want mo'
+work and he start de whippin's. I guesses he starts to edumacate 'em. I
+guess dat Delbridge go to hell when he died, but I don't see how de
+debbil could stand him.
+
+"We'uns am not use' to sich and some runs off. When dey am cotched there
+am a whippin' at de stake. But dat Delbridge, he sold me to Massa House,
+in Blanco County. I's sho' glad when I's sold, but it am short gladness,
+'cause here am another man what hell am too good for. He gives me de
+whippin' and de scars am still on my arms and my back, too. I'll carry
+dem to my grave. He sends me for firewood and when I gits it loaded, de
+wheel hits a stump and de team jerks and dat breaks de whippletree. So
+he ties me to de stake and every half hour for four hours, dey lays ta
+lashes on my back. For de first couple hours de pain am awful. I's never
+forgot it. Den I's stood so much pain I not feel so much and when dey
+takes me loose, I's jus' 'bout half dead. I lays in de bunk two days,
+gittin' over dat whippin', gittin' over it in de body but not de heart.
+No, suh, I has dat in de heart till dis day.
+
+"After dat whippin' I doesn't have de heart to work for de massa. If I
+seed de cattle in de cornfield, I turns de back, 'stead of chasin' 'em
+out. I guess dat de reason de massa sold me to his brother, Massa John.
+And he am good like my first massa, he never whipped me.
+
+"Den surrender am 'nounced and massa tells us we's free. When dat takes
+place, it am 'bout one hour by sun. I says to myself, 'I won't be here
+long.' But I's not realise what I's in for till after I's started, but I
+couldn't turn back. For dat means de whippin' or danger from de patter
+rollers. Dere I was and I kep' on gwine. No nigger am sposed to be off
+de massa's place without de pass, so I travels at night and hides durin'
+de daylight. I stays in de bresh and gits water from de creeks, but not
+much to eat. Twice I's sho' dem patter rollers am passin' while I's
+hidin'.
+
+"I's 21 year old den, but it am de first time I's gone any place, 'cept
+to de neighbors, so I's worried 'bout de right way to Massa Haley's
+place. But de mornin' of de third day I comes to he place and I's so
+hongry and tired and scairt for fear Massa Haley not home from de army
+yit. So I finds my pappy and he hides me in he cabin till a week and den
+luck comes to me when Massa Haley come home. He come at night and de
+next mornin' dat Delbridge am shunt off de place, 'cause Massa Haley
+seed he niggers was all gaunt and lots am ran off and de fields am not
+plowed right, and only half de sheep and everything left. So massa say
+to dat Delbridge, 'Dere am no words can 'splain what yous done. Git off
+my place 'fore I smashes you.'
+
+"Den I kin come out from my pappy's cabin and de old massa was glad to
+see me, and he let me stay till freedom am ordered. Dat's de happies'
+time in my life, when I gits back to Massa Haley.
+
+
+
+
+420317
+
+
+Dibble, Fred, P.W., Beehler, Rheba, P.W., Beaumont, Jefferson, Dist. #3.
+
+     A frail sick man, neatly clad in white pajamas lying patiently in a
+     clean bed awaiting the end which does not seem far away. Although
+     we protested against his talking, because of his weakness, he told
+     a brief story of his life in a whisper, his breath very short and
+     every word was spoken with great effort. His light skin and his
+     features denote no characteristic of his race, has a bald head with
+     a bit of gray hair around the crown and a slight growth of gray
+     whiskers about his face, is medium in height and build. WASH
+     ANDERSON, although born in Charleston, S.C., has spent practically
+     all of his life in Texas [Handwritten Note: (Beaumont, Texas--]
+
+
+"Mos' folks call me Wash Anderson, but dey uster call me George. My
+whole name' George Washington Anderson. I was bo'n in Charleston, Sou'f
+Ca'lina in 1855. Bill Anderson was my ol' marster. Dey was two boy' and
+two gal' in his family. We all lef' Charleston and come to Orange,
+Texas, befo' freedom come. I was fo' year' ol' when dey mek dat trip."
+
+"I don' 'member nuttin' 'bout Charleston. You see where I was bo'n was
+'bout two mile' from de city. I went back one time in 1917, but I didn'
+stay dere long."
+
+"My pa was Irvin' Anderson and my mommer was name' Eliza. Ol' marster
+was pretty rough on his niggers. Dey tell me he had my gran'daddy beat
+to death. Dey never did beat me."
+
+"Dey made de trip from Charleston 'cross de country and settle' in
+Duncan's Wood' down here in Orange county. Dey had a big plantation
+dere. I dunno if ol' marster had money back in Charleston, but I t'ink
+he must have. He had 'bout 25 or 30 slaves on de place."
+
+"Ol' man Anderson he had a big two-story house. It was buil' out of logs
+but it was a big fine house. De slaves jis' had little log huts. Dere
+warn't no flo's to 'em, nuthin' but de groun'. Dem little huts jis' had
+one room in 'em. Dey was one family to de house, 'cep'n' sometime dey
+put two or t'ree family' to a house. Dey jis' herd de slaves in dere
+like a bunch of pigs."
+
+"Dey uster raise cotton, and co'n, and sugar cane, and sich like, but
+dey didn' uster raise no rice. Dey uster sen' stuff to Terry on a
+railroad to sen' it to market. Sometime dey hitch up dey teams and sen'
+it to Orange and Beaumont in wagons. De ol' marster he had a boat, too,
+and sometime he sen' a boatload of his stuff to Beaumont."
+
+"My work was to drive de surrey for de family and look atter de hosses
+and de harness and sich. I jis' have de bes' hosses on de place to see
+atter."
+
+"I saw lots of sojers durin' de war. I see 'em marchin' by, goin' to
+Sabine Pass 'bout de time of dat battle."
+
+"Back in slavery time dey uster have a white preacher to come 'roun' and
+preach to de cullud folks. But I don't 'member much 'bout de songs what
+dey uster sing."
+
+"I play 'roun' right smart when I was little. Dey uster have lots of fun
+playin' 'hide and seek,' and 'hide de switch.' We uster ride stick
+hosses and play 'roun' at all dem t'ings what chillun play at."
+
+"Dey had plenty of hosses and mules and cows on de ol' plantation. I had
+to look atter some of de hosses, but dem what I hatter look atter was
+s'pose to be de bes' hosses in de bunch. Like I say, I drive de surrey
+and dey allus have de bes' hosses to pull dat surrey. Dey had a log
+stable. Dey kep' de harness in dere, too. Eb'ryt'ing what de stock eat
+dey raise on de plantation, all de co'n and fodder and sich like."
+
+"Atter freedom come I went 'roun' doin' dif'rent kind of work. I uster
+work on steamboats, and on de railroad and at sawmillin'. I was a sawyer
+for a long, long time. I work 'roun' in Lou'sana and Arkansas, and
+Oklahoma, as well as in Texas. When I wasn't doin' dem kinds of work, I
+uster work 'roun' at anyt'ing what come to han'. I 'member one time I
+was workin' for de Burr Lumber Company at Fort Townsend up dere in
+Arkansas."
+
+"When I was 'bout 36 year' ol' I git marry. I been married twice. My
+fus' wife was name' Hannah and Reverend George Childress was de preacher
+dat marry us. He was a cullud preacher. Atter Hannah been dead some time
+I marry my secon' wife. Her name was Tempie Perkins. Later on, us
+sep'rate. Us sep'rate on 'count of money matters."
+
+"I b'longs to de Baptis' Chu'ch. Sometime' de preacher come 'roun' and
+see me. He was here a few days ago dis week."
+
+
+
+
+_"UNCLE WILLIS ANDERSON"_
+
+_REFERENCES_
+
+A. Coronado's Children--J. Frank Dobie, Pub. 1929, Austin, Tex.
+
+B. Leon County News--Centerville, Texas--Thursday May 21, 1936.
+
+C. Consultant--Uncle Willis Anderson, resident of Centerville, Tex, born
+April 15, 1844.
+
+
+An interesting character at Centerville, Texas, is "Uncle Willis"
+Anderson, an ex-slave, born April 15, 1844, 6 miles west of Centerville
+on the old McDaniels plantation near what is now known as Hopewell
+Settlement. It is generally said that "Uncle Willis" is one of the
+oldest living citizens in the County, black or white. He is referred to
+generally for information concerning days gone by and for the history of
+that County, especially in the immediate vicinity of Centerville.
+
+"Uncle Willis" is an interesting figure. He may be found sitting on the
+porches of the stores facing Federal Highway No. 75, nodding or
+conversing with small groups of white or colored people that gather
+around him telling of the days gone by. He also likes to watch the
+busses and automobiles that pass through the small town musing and
+commenting on the swiftness of things today. Uncle Willis still
+cultivates a small patch five miles out from the town.
+
+"Uncle Willis" is a tall dark, brown-skinned man having a large head
+covered with mixed gray wooly hair. He has lost very few teeth
+considering his age. When sitting on the porches of the stores the soles
+of his farm-shoes may be seen tied together with pieces of wire. He
+supports himself with a cane made from the Elm tree. At present he wears
+a tall white Texas Centennial hat which makes him appear more unique
+than ever.
+
+"Uncle Willis'" memory is vivid. He is familiar with the older figures
+in the history of the County. He tells tales of having travelled by oxen
+to West Texas for flour and being gone for six months at a time. He
+remembers the Keechi and the Kickapoo Indians and also claims that he
+can point out a tree where the Americans hung an Indian Chief. He says
+that he has plowed up arrows, pots and flints on the Reubens Bains place
+and on the McDaniel farms. He can tell of the early lawlessness in the
+County. His face lights up when he recalls how the Yankee soldiers came
+through Centerville telling the slave owners to free their slaves. He
+also talks very low when he mentions the name of Jeff Davis because he
+says, "Wha' man eavesdrops the niggers houses in slavery time and if
+yer' sed' that Jeff Davis was a good man, they barbecued a hog for you,
+but if yer' sed' that Abe Lincoln was a good man, yer' had to fight or
+go to the woods."
+
+Among the most interesting tales told by "Uncle Willis" is the tale of
+the "Lead mine." "Uncle Willis" says that some where along Boggy Creek
+near a large hickory tree and a red oak tree, near Patrick's Lake, he
+and his master, Auss McDaniels, would dig lead out of the ground which
+they used to make pistol and rifle balls for the old Mississippi rifles
+during slavery time. Uncle Willis claims that they would dig slags of
+lead out of the ground some 12 and 15 inches long, and others as large
+as a man's fist. They would carry this ore back to the big house and
+melt it down to get the trash out of it, then they would pour it into
+molds and make rifle balls and pistol balls from it. In this way they
+kept plenty of amunition on hand. In recent years the land has changed
+ownership, and the present owners live in Dallas. Learning of the tale
+of the "lead mine" on their property they went to Centerville in an
+attempt to locate it and were referred to "Uncle Willis." Uncle Willis
+says they offered him two hundred dollars if he could locate the mine.
+Being so sure that he knew its exact location, said that the $200 was
+his meat. However, Uncle Willis was unable to locate the spot where they
+dug the lead and the mine remains a mystery.[C]
+
+Recently a group of citizens of Leon County including W.D. Lacey, Joe
+McDaniel, Debbs Brown, W.H. Hill and Judge Lacey cross questioned Uncle
+Willis about the lead mine. Judge Lacey did the questioning while them
+others formed an audience. The conversation went as follows:
+
+"Which way would you go when you went to the mine?" Judge Lacey asked.
+
+"Out tow'hd Normangee."
+
+"How long would it take you to get there?"
+
+"Two or three hours."
+
+"Was it on a creek?"
+
+"Yessuh."
+
+"But you cant go to it now?"
+
+"Nosuh, I just can't recollect exactly where 'tis.[B]
+
+J. Frank Dobie mentions many tales of lost lead mines throughout Texas
+in Coronado's Children, a publication of the Texas Folk-Lore Society.
+Lead in the early days of the Republic and the State was very valuable,
+as it was the source of protection from the Indians and also the means
+of supplying food.[A]
+
+
+
+
+420056
+
+
+[Illustration: Mary Armstrong]
+
+
+     MARY ARMSTRONG, 91, lives at 3326 Pierce Ave., Houston, Texas. She
+     was born on a farm near St. Louis, Missouri, a slave of William
+     Cleveland. Her father, Sam Adams, belonged to a "nigger trader,"
+     who had a farm adjoining the Cleveland place.
+
+
+"I's Aunt Mary, all right, but you all has to 'scuse me if I don't talk
+so good, 'cause I's been feelin' poorly for a spell and I ain't so young
+no more. Law me, when I think back what I used to do, and now it's all I
+can do to hobble 'round a little. Why, Miss Olivia, my mistress, used to
+put a glass plumb full of water on my head and then have me waltz 'round
+the room, and I'd dance so smoothlike, I don't spill nary drap.
+
+"That was in St. Louis, where I's born. You see, my mamma belong to old
+William Cleveland and old Polly Cleveland, and they was the meanest two
+white folks what ever lived, 'cause they was allus beatin' on their
+slaves. I know, 'cause mamma told me, and I hears about it other places,
+and besides, old Polly, she was a Polly devil if there ever was one, and
+she whipped my little sister what was only nine months old and jes' a
+baby to death. She come and took the diaper offen my little sister and
+whipped till the blood jes' ran--jes' 'cause she cry like all babies do,
+and it kilt my sister. I never forgot that, but I sot some even with
+that old Polly devil and it's this-a-way.
+
+"You see, I's 'bout 10 year old and I belongs to Miss Olivia, what was
+that old Polly's daughter, and one day old Polly devil comes to where
+Miss Olivia lives after she marries, and trys to give me a lick out in
+the yard, and I picks up a rock 'bout as big as half your fist and hits
+her right in the eye and busted the eyeball, and tells her that's for
+whippin' my baby sister to death. You could hear her holler for five
+miles, but Miss Olivia, when I tells her, says, 'Well, I guess mamma has
+larnt her lesson at last.' But that old Polly was mean like her husban',
+old Cleveland, till she die, and I hopes they is burnin' in torment now.
+
+"I don't 'member 'bout the start of things so much, 'cept what Miss
+Olivia and my mamma, her name was Siby, tells me. Course, it's powerful
+cold in winter times and the farms was lots different from down here.
+They calls 'em plantations down here but up at St. Louis they was jes'
+called farms, and that's what they was, 'cause we raises wheat and
+barley and rye and oats and corn and fruit.
+
+"The houses was builded with brick and heavy wood, too, 'cause it's cold
+up there, and we has to wear the warm clothes and they's wove on the
+place, and we works at it in the evenin's.
+
+"Old Cleveland takes a lot of his slaves what was in 'custom' and brings
+'em to Texas to sell. You know, he wasn't sposed to do that, 'cause when
+you's in 'custom', that's 'cause he borrowed money on you, and you's not
+sposed to leave the place till he paid up. Course, old Cleveland jes'
+tells the one he owed the money to, you had run off, or squirmed out
+some way, he was that mean.
+
+"Mamma say she was in one bunch and me in 'nother. Mamma had been put
+'fore this with my papa, Sam Adams, but that makes no diff'rence to Old
+Cleveland. He's so mean he never would sell the man and woman and
+chillen to the same one. He'd sell the man here and the woman there and
+if they's chillen, he'd sell them some place else. Oh, old Satan in
+torment couldn't be no meaner than what he and Old Polly was to they
+slaves. He'd chain a nigger up to whip 'em and rub salt and pepper on
+him, like he said, 'to season him up.' And when he'd sell a slave, he'd
+grease their mouth all up to make it look like they'd been fed good and
+was strong and healthy.
+
+"Well mamma say they hadn't no more'n got to Shreveport 'fore some law
+man cotch old Cleveland and takes 'em all back to St. Louis. Then my
+little sister's born, the one old Polly devil kilt, and I's 'bout four
+year old then.
+
+"Miss Olivia takes a likin' to me and, though her papa and mama so mean,
+she's kind to everyone, and they jes' love her. She marries to Mr. Will
+Adams what was a fine man, and has 'bout five farms and 500 slaves, and
+he buys me for her from old Cleveland and pays him $2,500.00, and gives
+him George Henry, a nigger, to boot. Lawsy, I's sho' happy to be with
+Miss Olivia and away from old Cleveland and Old Polly, 'cause they kilt
+my little sister.
+
+"We lives in St. Louis, on Chinquapin Hill, and I's housegirl, and when
+the babies starts to come I nusses 'em and spins thread for clothes on
+the loom. I spins six cuts of thread a week, but I has plenty of time
+for myself and that's where I larns to dance so good. Law, I sho' jes'
+crazy 'bout dancin'. If I's settin' eatin' my victuals and hears a
+fiddle play, I gets up and dances.
+
+"Mr. Will and Miss Olivia sho' is good to me, and I never calls Mr. Will
+'massa' neither, but when they's company I calls him Mr. Will and 'round
+the house by ourselves I calls them 'pappy' and 'mammy', 'cause they
+raises me up from the little girl. I hears old Cleveland done took my
+mamma to Texas 'gain but I couldn't do nothin', 'cause Miss Olivia
+wouldn't have much truck with her folks. Once in a while old Polly comes
+over, but Miss Olivia tells her not to touch me or the others. Old Polly
+trys to buy me back from Miss Olivia, and if they had they'd kilt me
+sho'. But Miss Olivia say, 'I'd wade in blood as deep as Hell 'fore I'd
+let you have Mary.' That's jes' the very words she told 'em.
+
+"Then I hears my papa is sold some place I don't know where. 'Course, I
+didn't know him so well, jes' what mamma done told me, so that didn't
+worry me like mamma being took so far away.
+
+"One day Mr. Will say, 'Mary, you want to go to the river and see the
+boat race?' Law me, I never won't forget that. Where we live it ain't
+far to the Miss'sippi River and pretty soon here they comes, the Natchez
+and the Eclipse, with smoke and fire jes' pourin' out of they
+smokestacks. That old captain on the 'Clipse starts puttin' in bacon
+meat in the boiler and the grease jes' comes out a-blazin' and it beat
+the Natchez to pieces.
+
+"I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr. Will set us all free. I was
+'bout 17 year old then or more. I say I goin' find my mamma. Mr. Will
+fixes me up two papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some
+smaller, but both has big, gold seals what he says is the seal of the
+State of Missouri. He gives me money and buys my fare ticket to Texas
+and tells me they is still slave times down here and to put the papers
+in my bosom but to do whatever the white folks tells me, even if they
+wants to sell me. But he say, 'Fore you gets off the block, jes' pull
+out the papers, but jes' hold 'em up to let folks see and don't let 'em
+out of your hands, and when they sees them they has to let you alone.'
+
+"Miss Olivia cry and carry on and say be careful of myself 'cause it
+sho' rough in Texas. She give me a big basket what had so much to eat in
+it I couldn't hardly heft it and 'nother with clothes in it. They puts
+me in the back end a the boat where the big, old wheel what run the boat
+was and I goes to New Orleans, and the captain puts me on 'nother boat
+and I comes to Galveston, and that captain puts me on 'nother boat and I
+comes up this here Buffalo Bayou to Houston.
+
+"I looks 'round Houston, but not long. It sho' was a dumpy little place
+then and I gets the stagecoach to Austin. It takes us two days to get
+there and I thinks my back busted sho' 'nough, it was sich rough ridin'.
+Then I has trouble sho'. A man asks me where I goin' and says to come
+'long and he takes me to a Mr. Charley Crosby. They takes me to the
+block what they sells slaves on. I gets right up like they tells me,
+'cause I 'lects what Mr. Will done told me to do, and they starts
+biddin' on me. And when they cried off and this Mr. Crosby comes up to
+get me, I jes' pulled out my papers and helt 'em up high and when he
+sees 'em, he say, 'Let me see them.' But I says, 'You jes' look at it up
+here,' and he squints up and say, 'This gal am free and has papers,' and
+tells me he a legislature man and takes me and lets me stay with his
+slaves. He is a good man.
+
+"He tells me there's a slave refugee camp in Wharton County but I didn't
+have no money left, but he pays me some for workin' and when the war's
+over I starts to hunt mamma 'gain, and finds her in Wharton County near
+where Wharton is. Law me, talk 'bout cryin' and singin' and cryin' some
+more, we sure done it. I stays with mamma till I gets married in 1871 to
+John Armstrong, and then we all comes to Houston.
+
+"I gets me a job nussin' for Dr. Rellaford and was all through the
+yellow fever epidemic. I 'lects in '75 people die jes' like sheep with
+the rots. I's seen folks with the fever jump from their bed with death
+on 'em and grab other folks. The doctor saved lots of folks, white and
+black, 'cause he sweat it out of 'em. He mixed up hot water and vinegar
+and mustard and some else in it.
+
+"But, law me, so much is gone out of my mind, 'cause I's 91 year old now
+and my mind jes' like my legs, jes' kinda hobble 'round a bit.
+
+
+
+
+420085
+
+
+[Illustration: Sterlin Arnwine]
+
+
+     STEARLIN ARNWINE, 94, was born a slave to Albertus Arnwine, near
+     Jacksonville, Texas, who died when Stearlin was seven or eight. He
+     was bought by John Moseley, of Rusk, Texas, who made Stearlin a
+     houseboy, and was very kind to him. He now lives about six miles
+     west of Jacksonville.
+
+
+"I was bo'n 'fore de war, in 1853, right near this here town, on Gum
+Creek. My mammy belonged to Massa Albertus Arnwine, and he wasn' ever
+married. He owned four women, my mammy, Ann, my grandmother, Gracie, and
+my Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary. He didn' own any nigger men, 'cept the
+chillen of these women. Grandma lived in de house with Massa Arnwine and
+the rest of us lived in cabins in de ya'd. My mammy come from Memphis
+but I don' know whar my pappy come from. He was Ike Lane. I has three
+half brothers, and their names is Joe and Will and John Schot, and two
+sisters called Polly and Rosie.
+
+"Massa Arnwine died 'fore de war and he made a will and it gave all he
+owned to the women he owned, and Jedge Jowell promised massa on his
+deathbed he would take us to de free country, but he didn'. He took us
+to his place to work for him for 'bout two years and the women never did
+get that 900 acres of land Massa Arnwine willed to'em. I don' know who
+got it, but they didn'. I knows I still has a share in that land, but it
+takes money to git it in cou't.
+
+"When war broke I fell into the han's of Massa John Moseley at Rusk.
+They brought the dogs to roun' us up from the fiel's whar we was
+workin'. I was the only one of my fam'ly to go to Massa John.
+
+"I never did wo'k in the fiel's at Massa John's place. He said I mus' be
+his houseboy and houseboy I was. Massa was sho' good to me and I did
+love to be with him and follow him 'roun'.
+
+"The kitchen was out in de ya'd and I had to carry the victuals to the
+big dinin'-room. When dinner was over, Massa John tuk a nap and I had to
+fan him, and Lawsy me, I'd git so sleepy. I kin hear him now, for he'd
+wake up and say, 'Go get me a drink outta the northeast corner of de
+well.'
+
+"We had straw and grass beds, we put it in sacks on de groun' and slep'
+on de sacks. I don' 'member how much land Massa John had but it was a
+big place and he had lots of slaves. We chillun had supper early in de
+evenin' and mostly cornbread and hawg meat and milk. We all ate from a
+big pot. I larned to spin and weave and knit and made lots of socks.
+
+"Massa John had two step-daughters, Miss Mollie and Miss Laura, and they
+wen' to school at Rusk. It was my job to take 'em thar ev'ry Monday
+mornin' on horses and go back after 'em Friday afternoon.
+
+"I never earnt no money 'fore freedom come, but once my brother-in-law
+give me five dollars. I was so proud of it I showed it to de ladies and
+one of 'em said, 'You don' need dat,' and she give me two sticks of
+candy and tuk de money. But I didn' know any better then.
+
+"I seed slaves for sale on de auction block. They sol' 'em 'cordin' to
+strengt' and muscles. They was stripped to de wais'. I seed the women
+and little chillun cryin' and beggin' not to be separated, but it didn'
+do no good. They had to go.
+
+"The only chu'ch I knowed 'bout was when we'd git together in de night
+and have prayer meetin' and singin.' We use' to go way out in de woods
+so de white folks wouldn' hear nothin'. Sometimes we'd stay nearly all
+night on Saturday, 'cause we didn' have to work Sunday.
+
+"'Bout the only thing we could play was stick hosses. I made miles and
+miles on the stick hosses. After the War Massa John have his chillun a
+big roll of Confederate money and they give us some of it to trade and
+buy stick hosses with.
+
+"When Massa John tol' us we was free, he didn' seem to min', but Miss
+Em, she bawled and squalled, say her prop'ty taken 'way from her. After
+dat, my mammy gathers us togedder and tuk us to the Dr. Middleton place,
+out from Jacksonville. From thar to de Ragsdale place whar I's been ever
+since.
+
+"I wore my first pants when I was fourteen years ole, and they stung
+'till I was mis'ble. The cloth was store bought but mammy made the pants
+at home. It was what we called dog-hair cloth. Mammy made my first
+shoes, we called 'em 'red rippers'.
+
+
+
+
+420075
+
+
+[Illustration: Sarah Ashley]
+
+
+     SARAH ASHLEY, 93, was born in Mississippi. She recalls her
+     experiences when sold on the block in New Orleans, and on a cotton
+     plantation in Texas. She now lives at Goodrich, Texas.
+
+
+"I ain't able to do nothin' no more. I's jus' plumb give out and I stays
+here by myself. My daughter, Georgia Grime, she used to live with me but
+she's been dead four year.
+
+"I was born in Miss'ippi and Massa Henry Thomas buy us and bring us
+here. He a spec'lator and buys up lots of niggers and sells 'em. Us
+family was sep'rated. My two sisters and my papa was sold to a man in
+Georgia. Den dey put me on a block and bid me off. Dat in New Orleans
+and I scairt and cry, but dey put me up dere anyway. First dey takes me
+to Georgia and dey didn't sell me for a long spell. Massa Thomas he
+travel round and buy and sell niggers. Us stay in de spec'lators drove
+de long time.
+
+"After 'while Massa Mose Davis come from Cold Spring, in Texas, and buys
+us. He was buyin' up little chillen for he chillen. Dat 'bout four year
+befo' da first war. I was 19 year old when de burst of freedom come in
+June and I git turn loose.
+
+"I was workin' in de field den. Jus' befo' dat de old Massa he go off
+and buy more niggers. He go east. He on a boat what git stove up and he
+die and never come back no more. Us never see him no more.
+
+"I used to have to pick cotton and sometime I pick 300 pound and tote it
+a mile to de cotton house. Some pick 300 to 800 pound cotton and have to
+tote de bag de whole mile to de gin. Iffen dey didn't do dey work dey
+git whip till dey have blister on 'em. Den iffen dey didn't do it, de
+man on a hoss goes down de rows and whip with a paddle make with holes
+in it and bus' de blisters. I never git whip, 'cause I allus git my 300
+pound. Us have to go early to do dat, when de horn goes early, befo'
+daylight. Us have to take de victuals in de bucket to de field.
+
+"Massa have de log house and us live in little houses, strowed in long
+rows. Dere wasn't no meetin's 'lowed in de quarters and iffen dey have
+prayer meetin' de boss man whip dem. Sometime us run off at night and go
+to camp meetin'. I takes de white chillen to church sometime, but dey
+couldn't larn me to sing no songs 'cause I didn' have no spirit.
+
+"Us never got 'nough to eat, so us keeps stealin' stuff. Us has to. Dey
+give us de peck of meal to last de week and two, three pound bacon in
+chunk. Us never have flour or sugar, jus' cornmeal and de meat and
+'taters. De niggers has de big box under de fireplace, where dey kep'
+all de pig and chickens what dey steal, down in salt.
+
+"I seed a man run away and de white men got de dogs and dey kotch him
+and put him in de front room and he jump through de big window and break
+de glass all up. Dey sho' whips him when dey kotches him.
+
+"De way dey whip de niggers was to strip 'em off naked and whip 'em till
+dey make blisters and bus' de blisters. Den dey take de salt and red
+pepper and put in de wounds. After dey wash and grease dem and put
+somethin' on dem, to keep dem from bleed to death.
+
+"When de boss man told us freedom was come he didn't like it, but he
+give all us de bale of cotton and some corn. He ask us to stay and he'p
+with de crop but we'uns so glad to git 'way dat nobody stays. I got
+'bout fifty dollars for de cotton and den I lends it to a nigger what
+never pays me back yit. Den I got no place to go, so I cooks for a white
+man name' Dick Cole. He sposen give me $5.00 de month but he never paid
+me no money. He'd give me eats and clothes, 'cause he has de little
+store.
+
+"Now, I's all alone and thinks of dem old times what was so bad, and I's
+ready for de Lawd to call me."
+
+
+
+
+420280
+
+
+     AGATHA BABINO, born a slave of Ogis Guidry, near Carenco,
+     Louisiana, now lives in a cottage on the property of the Blessed
+     Sacrament Church, in Beaumont, Texas. She says she is at least
+     eighty-seven and probably much older.
+
+
+"Old Marse was Ogis Guidry. Old Miss was Laurentine. Dey had four
+chillen, Placid, Alphonse and Mary and Alexandrine, and live in a big,
+one-story house with a gallery and brick pillars. Dey had a big place. I
+'spect a mile 'cross it, and fifty slaves.
+
+"My mama name was Clarice Richard. She come from South Carolina. Papa
+was Dick Richard. He come from North Carolina. He was slave of old
+Placid Guilbeau. He live near Old Marse. My brothers was Joe and
+Nicholas and Oui and Albert and Maurice, and sisters was Maud and
+Celestine and Pauline.
+
+"Us slaves lived in shabby houses. Dey builded of logs and have dirt
+floor. We have a four foot bench. We pull it to a table and set on it.
+De bed a platform with planks and moss.
+
+"We had Sunday off. Christmas was off, too. Dey give us chicken and
+flour den. But most holidays de white folks has company. Dat mean more
+work for us.
+
+"Old Marse bad. He beat us till we bleed. He rub salt and pepper in. One
+time I sweep de yard. Young miss come home from college. She slap my
+face. She want to beat me. Mama say to beat her, so dey did. She took de
+beatin' for me.
+
+"My aunt run off 'cause dey beat her so much. Dey brung her back and
+beat her some more.
+
+"We have dance outdoors sometime. Somebody play fiddle and banjo. We
+dance de reel and quadrille and buck dance. De men dance dat. If we go
+to dance on 'nother plantation we have to have pass. De patterrollers
+come and make us show de slip. If dey ain't no slip, we git beat.
+
+"I see plenty sojers. Dey fight at Pines and we hear ball go
+'zing--zing.' Young marse have blue coat. He put it on and climb a tree
+to see. De sojers come and think he a Yankee. Dey take his gun. Dey turn
+him loose when dey find out he ain't no Yankee.
+
+"When de real Yankees come dey take corn and gooses and hosses. Dey
+don't ask for nothin'. Dey take what dey wants.
+
+"Some masters have chillen by slaves. Some sold dere own chillen. Some
+sot dem free.
+
+"When freedom come we have to sign up to work for money for a year. We
+couldn't go work for nobody else. After de year some stays, but not
+long.
+
+"De Ku Klux kill niggers. Dey come to take my uncle. He open de door.
+Dey don't take him but tell him to vote Democrat next day or dey will.
+Dey kilt some niggers what wouldn't vote Democrat.
+
+"Dey kill my old uncle Davis. He won't vote Democrat. Dey shoot him. Den
+dey stand him up and let him fall down. Dey tie him by de feet. Dey drag
+him through de bresh. Dey dare his wife to cry.
+
+"When I thirty I marry Tesisfor Babino. Pere Abadie marry us at Grand
+Coteau. We have dinner with wine. Den come big dance. We have twelve
+chillen. We works in de field in Opelousas. We come here twenty-five
+year ago. He die in 1917. Dey let's me live here. It nice to be near de
+church. I can go to prayers when I wants to.
+
+
+
+
+420164
+
+
+     MRS. JOHN BARCLAY (nee Sarah Sanders) Brownwood, Texas was born in
+     Komo, Mississippi, September 1, 1853. She was born a slave at the
+     North Slades' place. Mr. and Mrs. North Slade were the only owners
+     she ever had. She served as nurse-maid for her marster's children
+     and did general housework. She, with her mother and father and
+     family stayed with the Slades until the end of the year after the
+     Civil War. They then moved to themselves, hiring out to "White
+     Folks."
+
+
+"My marster and mistress was good to all de slaves dat worked for dem.
+But our over-seer, Jimmy Shearer, was sho' mean. One day he done git mad
+at me for some little somethin' and when I take de ashes to de garden he
+catches me and churns me up and down on de groun'. One day he got mad
+at my brother and kicked him end over end, jes' like a stick of wood. He
+would whip us 'til we was raw and then put pepper and salt in de sores.
+If he thought we was too slow in doin' anything he would kick us off de
+groun' and churn us up and down. Our punishment depended on de mood of
+de over-seer. I never did see no slaves sold. When we was sick dey give
+us medicine out of drug stores. De over-seer would git some coarse
+cotton cloth to make our work clothes out of and den he would make dem
+so narrow we couldn' hardly' walk.
+
+"There was 1800 acres in Marster Slade's plantation, we got up at 5:00
+o'clock in de mornin' and de field workers would quit after sun-down. We
+didn' have no jails for slaves. We went to church with de white folks
+and there was a place in de back of de church for us to sit.
+
+"I was jes' a child den and us chilluns would gather in de back yard and
+sing songs and play games and dance jigs. Song I 'member most is 'The
+Day is Past and Gone.'
+
+"One time marster found out the over-seer was so mean to me, so he
+discharged him and released me from duty for awhile.
+
+"We never did wear shoes through de week but on Sunday we would dress up
+in our white cotton dresses and put on shoes.
+
+"We wasn't taught to read or write. Our owner didn't think anything
+about it. We had to work if there was work to be done. When we got
+caught up den we could have time off. If any of us got sick our mistress
+would 'tend to us herself. If she thought we was sick enough she would
+call de white doctor.
+
+"When de marster done told us we was free we jumped up and down and
+slapped our hands and shouted 'Glory to God!' Lord, child dat was one
+happy bunch of niggers. Awhile after dat some of de slaves told marster
+dey wanted to stay on with him like dey had been but he told 'em no dey
+couldn't, 'cause dey was free. He said he could use some of 'em but dey
+would have to buy what dey got and he would have to pay 'em like men.
+
+"When I was 'bout 18 years old I married John Barclay. I's had ten
+chillun and four gran'-chillun and now I lives by myself."
+
+
+
+
+420128
+
+
+     JOHN BARKER, age 84, Houston.
+
+     5 photographs marked _Green Cumby_ have been assigned to this
+     manuscript--the 'Green Cumby' photos are attached to the proper
+     manuscript and the five referred to above are probably pictures of
+     _John Barker_.
+
+
+     JOHN BARKER, age 84, was born near Cincinnati, Ohio, the property
+     of the Barker family, who moved to Missouri and later to Texas. He
+     and his wife live in a neat cottage in Houston, Texas.
+
+
+"I was born a slave. I'm a Malagasser (Madagascar) nigger. I 'member all
+'bout dem times, even up in Ohio, though de Barkers brought me to Texas
+later on. My mother and father was call Goodman, but dey died when I was
+little and Missy Barker raised me on de plantation down near Houston.
+Dey was plenty of work and plenty of room.
+
+"I 'member my grandma and grandpa. In dem days de horned toads runs over
+de world and my grandpa would gather 'em and lay 'em in de fireplace
+till dey dried and roll 'em with bottles till dey like ashes and den rub
+it on de shoe bottoms. You see, when dey wants to run away, dat stuff
+don't stick all on de shoes, it stick to de track. Den dey carries some
+of dat powder and throws it as far as dey could jump and den jump over
+it, and do dat again till dey use all de powder. Dat throwed de common
+hounds off de trail altogether. But dey have de bloodhounds, hell
+hounds, we calls 'em, and dey could pick up dat trail. Dey run my
+grandpa over 100 mile and three or four days and nights and found him
+under a bridge. What dey put on him was enough! I seen 'em whip runaway
+niggers till de blood run down dere backs and den put salt in de places.
+
+"I 'spect dere was 'bout 40 or 50 acres in de plantation. Dey worked and
+worked and didn't have no dances or church. Dances nothin!
+
+"My massa and missus house was nice, but it was a log house. They had
+big fireplaces what took great big chunks of wood and kep' fire all
+night. We lives in de back in a little bitty house like a chicken house.
+We makes beds out of posts and slats across 'em and fills tow sacks with
+shucks in 'em for mattress and pillows.
+
+"I seed slaves sold and they was yoked like steers and sold by pairs
+sometimes. Dey wasn't 'lowed to marry, 'cause they could be sold and it
+wasn't no use, but you could live with 'em.
+
+"We used to eat possums and dese old-fashioned coons and ducks.
+Sometimes we'd eat goats, too. We has plenty cornmeal and 'lasses and we
+gets milk sometimes, but we has no fine food, 'cept on Christmas, we
+gits some cake, maybe.
+
+"My grandma says one day dat we all is free, but we stayed with Massa
+Barker quite a while. Dey pays us for workin' but it ain't much pay,
+'cause de war done took dere money and all. But they was good to us, so
+we stayed.
+
+"I was 'bout 20 when I marries de fust time. It was a big blow-out and I
+was scared de whole time. First time I ever tackled marryin'. Dey had a
+big paper sack of rice and throwed it all over her and I, enough rice to
+last three or four days, throwed away jus' for nothin'. I had on a
+black, alpaca suit with frock tail coat and, if I ain't mistaken, a
+right white shirt. My wife have a great train on her dress and one dem
+things you call a wreath. I wore de loudest shoes we could find, what
+you call patent leather.
+
+"Dis here my third wife. We marries in Eagle Pass and comes up to de
+Seminole Reservation and works for de army till we goes to work for de
+Pattersons, and we been here 23 years now.
+
+"Ghosties? I was takin' care of a white man when he died and I seed
+something 'bout three feet high and black. I reckon I must have fainted
+'cause they has de doctor for me. And on dark nights I seed ghosties
+what has no head. Dey looks like dey wild and dey is all in different
+performance. When I goin' down de road and feel a hot steam and look
+over my shoulder I can see 'em plain as you standin' dere. I seed 'em
+when my wife was with me, but she can't see 'em, 'cause some people
+ain't gifted to see 'em.
+
+
+
+
+420133
+
+
+     JOE BARNES, 89, was born in Tyler Co., Texas, on Jim Sapp's
+     plantation. He is very feeble, but keeps his great grandchildren in
+     line while their mother works. They live in Beaumont. Joe is tall,
+     slight, and has gray hair and a stubby gray mustache. In his kind,
+     gentle voice he relates his experiences in slavery days.
+
+
+"Dey calls me Paul Barnes, but my name ain't Paul, it am Joe. My massa
+was Jim Sapp, up here in Tyler County, and missus' name was Ann. De Sapp
+place was big and dey raise' a sight of cotton and corn. Old massa Jim
+he have 'bout 25 or 30 slaves.
+
+"My mammy's name was Artimisi, but dey call her Emily, and pa's name
+Jerry Wooten, 'cause he live on de Wooten place. My steppa named Barnes
+and I taken dat name. My parents, dey have de broomstick weddin'.
+
+"When I's a chile us play marbles and run rabbits and ride de stick hoss
+and de like. When I gits more bigger, us play ball, sort of like
+baseball. One time my brudder go git de hosses and dey lots of rain and
+de creek swoll up high. De water so fast it wash him off he hoss and I
+ain't seed him since. Dey never find de body. He's 'bout ten year old
+den.
+
+"Massa live in de big box house and de quarters am in a row in de back.
+Some of dem box and some of dem log. Dey have two rooms. Every day de
+big, old cowhorn blow for dinner and us have de little tin cup what us
+git potlicker in and meat and cornbread and salt bacon. Us gits greens,
+too. De chimneys 'bout four feet wide and dey cooks everything in de
+fireplace. Dey have pots and ovens and put fire below and 'bove 'em.
+
+"I used to wear what I calls a one-button cutaway. It was jis' a shirt
+make out of homespun with pleats down front. Dey make dey own cloth dem
+time.
+
+"Massa marry de folks in de broomstick style. Us don' have de party but
+sometime us sing and play games, like de round dance.
+
+"Dey give de little ones bacon to suck and tie de string to de bacon and
+de other round dey wrists, so dey won't swallow or lose de bacon. For de
+little bits of ones dey rings de bell for dey mommers to come from de
+field and nuss 'em.
+
+"After freedom come us stay a year and den move to Beaumont and us work
+in de sawmill for Mr. Jim Long. De fust money I git I give to my mammy.
+Me and mammy and stepdaddy stays in Beaumont two years den moves to
+Tyler and plants de crop. But de next year us move back to Beaumont on
+de Langham place and mammy work for de Longs till she die.
+
+"When I git marry I marry Dicey Allen and she die and I never marry no
+more. I worked in sawmillin' and on de log pond and allus gits by pretty
+good. I ain't done no work much de last ten year, I's too old.
+
+"I sort a looks after my grandchillen and I sho' loves dem. I sits
+'round and hurts all de time. It am rheumatism in de feets, I reckon. I
+got six grandchillen and three great-grandchillen and dat one you hears
+cryin', dat de baby I's raisin' in dere.
+
+"I's feared I didn't tell you so much 'bout things way back, but da
+truth am, I can't 'member like I used to.
+
+
+
+
+420166
+
+
+     ARMSTEAD BARRETT, born in 1847, was a slave of Stafford Barrett,
+     who lived in Huntsville, Texas. He is the husband of Harriett
+     Barrett. Armstead has a very poor memory and can tell little about
+     early days. He and Harriet receive old age pensions.
+
+
+"I's really owned by Massa Stafford Barrett, but my mammy 'longed to
+Massa Ben Walker and was 'lowed to keep me with her. So after we'uns got
+free, I lives with my daddy and mammy and goes by de name of Barrett.
+Daddy's name was Henry Barrett and he's brung to Texas from Richmond, in
+Virginny, and mammy come from Kentucky. Us all lived in Huntsville. I
+waited on Miss Ann and mammy was cook.
+
+"Old massa have doctor for us when us sick. We's too val'ble. Jus' like
+to de fat beef, massa am good to us. Massa go to other states and git
+men and women and chile slaves and bring dem back to sell, 'cause he
+spec'lator. He make dem wash up good and den sell dem.
+
+"Mos' time we'uns went naked. Jus' have on one shirt or no shirt a-tall.
+
+"I know when peace 'clared dey all shoutin'. One woman hollerin' and a
+white man with de high-steppin' hoss ride clost to her and I see him git
+out and open he knife and cut her wide 'cross de stomach. Den he put he
+hat inside he shirt and rid off like lightnin'. De woman put in wagon
+and I never heered no more 'bout her.
+
+"I didn't git nothin' when us freed. Only some cast-off clothes. Long
+time after I rents de place on halves and farms most my life. Now I's
+too old to work and gits a pension to live on.
+
+"I seems to think us have more freedom when us slaves, 'cause we have no
+'sponsibility for sickness den. We have to take care all dat now and de
+white man, he beats de nigger out what he makes. Back in de old days, de
+white men am hones'. All the nigger knowed was hard work. I think de
+cullud folks ought to be 'lowed more privileges in votin' now, 'cause
+dey have de same 'sponsibility as white men and day more and more
+educated and brighter and brighter.
+
+"I think our young folks pretty sorry. They wont do right, but I 'lieve
+iffen dey could git fair wages dey'd do better. Dey git beat out of what
+dey does, anyway.
+
+"I 'member a owner had some slaves and de overseer had it in for two of
+dem. He'd whip dem near every day and dey does all could be did to
+please him. So one day he come to de field and calls one dem slaves and
+dat slave draps he hoe and goes over and grabs dat overseer. Den de
+other slave cut dat overseer's head right slap off and throwed it down
+one of de rows. De owner he fools 'round and sells dem two slaves for
+$800.00 each and dat all de punishment dem two slaves ever got.
+
+
+
+
+420167
+
+
+     HARRIET BARRETT, 86, was born in Walker Co., Texas, in 1851, a
+     slave of Steve Glass. She now lives in Palestine, Texas.
+
+
+"Massa Steve Glass, he own my pappy and mammy and me, until the war
+freed us. Pappy's borned in Africy and mammy in Virginy, and brung to
+Texas 'fore de war, and I's borned in Texas in 1851. I's heered my
+grandpa was wild and dey didn't know 'bout marryin' in Africy. My
+brother name Steve Glass and I dunno iffen I had sisters or not.
+
+"Dey put me to cookin' when I's a li'l kid and people says now dat Aunt
+Harriet am de bes' cook in Madisonville. Massa have great big garden and
+plenty to eat. I's cook big skillet plumb full corn at de time and us
+all have plenty meat. Massa, he step out and kill big deer and put in de
+great big pot and cook it. Then us have cornbread and syrup.
+
+"Us have log quarters with stick posts for bed and deerskin stretch over
+it. Den us pull moss and throw over dat. I have de good massa, bless he
+soul. Missy, she plumb good. She sick all de time and dey never have
+white chillen. Dey live in big, log house, four rooms in it and de great
+hall both ways through it.
+
+"Massa, he have big bunch slaves and work dem long as dey could see and
+den lock 'em up in de quarters at night to keep 'em from runnin' off. De
+patterrollers come and go through de quarters to see if all de niggers
+dere. Dey walk right over us when us sleeps.
+
+"Some slave run off, gwine to de north, and massa he cotch him and give
+him thirty-nine licks with rawhide and lock dem up at night, too, and
+keep chain on him in daytime.
+
+"I have de good massa, bless he soul, and missy she plumb good. I'll
+never forgit dem. Massa 'low us have holiday Saturday night and go to
+nigger dance if it on 'nother plantation. Boy, oh boy, de tin pan
+beatin' and de banjo pickin' and de dance all night long.
+
+"When de war start, white missy die, and massa have de preacher. She was
+white angel. Den massa marry Missy Alice Long and she de bad woman with
+us niggers. She hard on us, not like old missy.
+
+"I larned lots of remedies for sick people. Charcoal and onions and
+honey for de li'l baby am good, and camphor for de chills and fever and
+teeth cuttin'. I's boil red oak bark and make tea for fever and make
+cactus weed root tea for fever and chills and colic. De best remedy for
+chills and fever am to git rabbit foot tie on string 'round de neck.
+
+"Massa, he carry me to war with him, 'cause I's de good cook. In dat New
+Orleans battle he wounded and guns roarin' everywhere. Dey brung massa
+in and I's jus' as white as he am den. Dem Yankees done shoot de roof
+off de house. I nuss de sick and wounded clean through de war and seed
+dem dyin' on every side of me.
+
+"I's most scared to death when de war end. Us still in New Orleans and
+all de shoutin' dat took place 'cause us free! Dey crowds on de streets
+and was in a stir jus' as thick as flies on de dog. Massa say I's free
+as him, but iffen I wants to cook for him and missy I gits $2.50 de
+month, so I cooks for him till I marries Armstead Barrett, and then us
+farm for de livin'. Us have big church weddin' and I has white loyal
+dress and black brogan shoes. Us been married 51 years now.
+
+
+
+
+420150
+
+
+     JOHN BATES, 84, was born in Little Rock, Arkansas, a slave of Mock
+     Bateman. When still very young, John moved with his mother, a slave
+     of Harry Hogan, to Limestone Co., Texas. John now lives in
+     Corsicana, supported by his children and an old age pension.
+
+
+"My pappy was Ike Bateman, 'cause his massa's name am Mock Bateman, and
+mammy's name was Francis. They come from Tennessee and I had four
+brothers and six sisters. We jes' left de last part of de name off and
+call it Bates and dat's how I got my name. Mammy 'longed to Massa Harry
+Hogan and while I's small us move to Texas, to Limestone County, and I
+don't 'member much 'bout pappy, 'cause I ain't never seed him since.
+
+"Massa Hogan was a purty good sort of fellow, but us went hongry de fust
+winter in Texas. He lived in de big log house with de hallway clean
+through and a gallery clean 'cross de front. De chimney was big 'nough
+to burn logs in and it sho' throwed out de heat. It was a good, big
+place and young massa come out early and holler for us to git up and be
+in de field.
+
+"Missy Hogan was de good woman and try her dead level best to teach me
+to read and write, but my head jes' too thick, I jes' couldn't larn. My
+Uncle Ben he could read de Bible and he allus tell us some day us be
+free and Massa Harry laugh, haw, haw, haw, and he say, 'Hell, no, yous
+never be free, yous ain't got sense 'nough to make de livin' if yous was
+free.' Den he takes de Bible 'way from Uncle Ben and say it put de bad
+ideas in he head, but Uncle gits 'nother Bible and hides it and massa
+never finds it out.
+
+"We'uns goes to de big baptisin' one time and it's at de big sawmill
+tank and 50 is baptise' and I's in dat bunch myself. But dey didn't have
+no funerals for de slaves, but jes' bury dem like a cow or a hoss, jes'
+dig de hole and roll 'em in it and cover 'em up.
+
+"War come and durin' dem times jes' like today nearly everybody knows
+what gwine on, news travels purty fast, and iffen de slaves couldn't git
+it with de pass dey slips out after dark and go in another plantation by
+de back way. Course, iffen dem patterrollers cotch dem it jus' too bad
+and dey gits whip.
+
+"When de news comes in dat us free, Massa Harry never call us up like
+everybody else did the slaves, us has to go up and ask him 'bout it. He
+come out on de front gallery and says we is free and turns 'round and
+goes in de house without 'nother word. We all sho' feels sorry for him
+the way he acts and hates to leave him, but we wants to go. We knowed he
+wasn't able to give us nothin' so begins to scatter and 'bout ten or
+fifteen days Massa Harry dies. I think he jes' grieve himself to death,
+all he trouble comin' on him to once.
+
+"Us worked on diff'rent farms till I marries and my fust wife am Emma
+Williams and a cullud preacher marries us at her house. Us picked cotton
+after dat and den I rents a place on de halvers for five year and after
+sev'ral years I buys eighty acres of land. Fin'ly us done paid dat out
+and done some repairs and den us sep'rate after livin' twenty-three year
+together. So I gives dat place to her and de six chillen and I walks out
+ready to start all over 'gain.
+
+"Then I meets Sarah Jones and us marries, but she gives me de
+divorcement. All dis time I works on a farm for de day wages, den I
+rents 'nother farm on de halvers on de black land and stays dere sev'ral
+year. Fin'ly I gits de job workin' at de cotton oil mill in Corsicana
+and stays at dat job till dey says I's too old. I done buy dis li'l home
+here and now has a place to live. Sarah done come back to me and us has
+seven chillen. One of de boys works at de cotton oil mill and two works
+at de compress right here in Corsicana and one works at de beer place in
+Dallas.
+
+"Us raises a li'l on dese two lots and de chillen brings some from de
+farm, I mean my fust wife's chillen, and with de pension check us manage
+to live a li'l longer. Us boys pays de taxes and de insurance for us.
+
+
+
+
+420306
+
+
+     HARRISON BECKETT, born a slave of I.D. Thomas of San Augustine,
+     Texas, now lives in Beaumont. A great-grandson climbed into
+     Harrison's lap during the interview, and his genial face lit up
+     with a smile. He chuckled as he told of his own boyhood days, and
+     appeared to enjoy reminiscing. At times he uses big words, some of
+     his own coining.
+
+
+"I's 'mong de culls now, like a hoss what am too old. I's purty small
+yit when 'mancipation comes and didn't have no hard work. Old Massa have
+me and de other li'l niggers keep de stock out de fields. Us li'l
+boogers have to run and keep de cows out de corn and de cotton patch.
+Dat ought to been 'nough to keep us out of debbilment.
+
+"It come to pass my mammy work in de field. Her name Cynthia Thomas and
+daddy's name Isaac Thomas. But after freedom he goes back to Florida and
+find out he people and git he real name, and dat am Beckett. Dat 'bout
+ten years after 'mancipation he go back to he old home in Florida.
+Mammy's people was de Polkses, in Georgia. Mammy come in from de field
+at nine or ten o'clock at night and she be all wore out and too tired to
+cook lots of times. But she have to git some food for us. We all had a
+tin pan and git round de table and dat like a feast. But lots of times
+she's so tired she go to bed without eatin' nothin' herself.
+
+"My sisters was Ellen and Sani and Georgy-Ann and Cindy and Sidi-Ann.
+Dey's all big 'nough to work in de field. My brudders name Matthew and
+Ed and Henry and Harry, what am me, and de oldes' one am General Thomas.
+
+"Dey more'n a hundred head of black folks on Massa Thomas' two farms,
+and 'bout a hundred fifty acres in each farm. One de farms in iron ore,
+what am red land, and de other in gray land, half sand and half black
+dirt.
+
+"Us slaves live in pole houses and some in split log houses, with two
+rooms, one for to sleep in and one for to cook in. Day ain't
+no glass windows, jus' holes in de walls. Dere was jack beds to sleep
+on, made out of poles. Dey has four legs and ain't nail to de walls.
+
+"Old Massa he care for he hands purty well, considerin' everything. In
+ginnin' time he 'low de women to pick up cotton from de ground and make
+mattresses and quilts. He make some cloth and buy some. A woman weave
+all de time and when de shickle jump out on de floor I picks it up. I
+used to could knit socks and I was jes' a li'l boy then, but I keep
+everything in 'membrance.
+
+"Dey have some school and de chillen larnt readin' and writin', and
+manners and behaviour, too. Sometime dey git de broke-down white man to
+be teacher. But us didn't know much and it taken ten years or more after
+freedom to git de black men de qualification way he could handle things.
+
+"One time us boys git some watermillions out in de bresh and hit 'em or
+drap 'em to break 'em open. Dere come massa and cotch us not workin',
+but eatin' he watermillions. He tell my daddy to whip me. But lots of
+times when us sposed to mind de calves, us am out eatin' watermillions
+in de bresh. Den de calves git out and massa see dem run and cotch us.
+
+"Old massa was kind and good, though. He have partiality 'bout him, and
+wouldn't whip nobody without de cause. He whip with de long, keen switch
+and it didn't bruise de back, but sho' did sting. When he git real mad,
+he pull up you shirt and whip on de bare hide. One time he whippin' me
+and I busts de button off my shirt what he holdin' on to, and runs
+away. I tries to outrun him, and dat tickle him. I sho' give de ground
+fits with my feets. But dem whippin's done me good. Dey break me up from
+thievin' and make de man of me.
+
+"De way dey dress us li'l nigger boys den, dey give us a shirt what come
+way down 'tween de knees and ankles. When de weather am too cold, dey
+sometimes give us pants.
+
+"De white preachers come round and preach. Dey have de tabernacle like a
+arbor and cullud folks come from all round to hear de Gospel 'spounded.
+Most every farm have de cullud man larnin' to preach. I used to 'long to
+de Methodists but now I 'longs to de Church of Christ.
+
+"Massa Thomas, he de wholesale merchant and git kilt in New Orleans. A
+big box of freight goods fall on him, a box 'bout a yard square on de
+end and six yards long. He's carryin' back some good for to make
+exchangement and dey pullin' up de box with pulley and rope and it fall
+on him. De New Orleans folks say it am de accidentment, but de rest say
+de rope am cut. One of massa's old friends was Lawyer Brooks. He used to
+firmanize de word.
+
+"Massa have two boys, Mr. Jimmie and Li'l Ide and dey both goes to de
+war. Li'l Ide, he go up in Arkansas and dey say when dat first cannon
+busts at Li'l Rock, he starts runnin' and never stops till he gits back
+home. I don't see how he could do dat, 'cause Li'l Rock am way far off,
+but dat what dey say. Den de men comes to git 'serters and dey gits Li'l
+Ide and takes him back. Mr. Jimmie, he didn't break de ranks. He stood
+he ground.
+
+"Mammy and dem tell me when war am over de boss and he wife, dey calls
+de slaves up in de bunch and tells 'em, 'You's free as I is. Keep on or
+quit, if you wants. You don't have to stay no further, you's free
+today.' Dat near June 19th, and all of 'em stays. Massa say, 'Go 'head
+and finish de crop and I feed you and pay you.' Dey all knowed when he
+kilt de hawgs us git plenty of meat. Dat young massa say all dat, 'cause
+old massa done git kilt.
+
+"It's at Panola County where I first hears of de Klux. Dey call dem
+White Caps den. Dey move over in Panola County and ranges at de place
+call Big Creek Merval by McFaddin Creek. Dey's purty rough. De
+landowners tell dey niggers not to kill de White Caps but to scare dem
+'way. At night dey come knock and if you don't open it dey pry it open
+and run you out in de field. Dey run de niggers from Merryville round
+Longview. Dey some good men in de Klux and some bad men. But us work
+hard and go home and dey ain't bother us none.
+
+"Dey used to be a nigger round dere, call Bandy Joe. He git kilt at
+Nacogdoches fin'ly. He could turn into anything. De jedge of he parish
+was Massa Lee and he say dey ought let Bandy Joe live, so dey could larn
+he art. Dey done try cotch him de long time, and maybe be holdin' him
+and first thing they know he gone and dey left holdin' he coat. Dey
+shoot at him and not hurt him. He tell he wife dey ain't no kind bullet
+can hurt him but de silver bullet.
+
+"Dat Bandy Joe, he say he a spirit and a human both. Iffen he didn't
+want you to see him you jus' couldn't see him. Lots of folks liked him.
+De jedge say he wish he could'a been brung to town, so he could 'zamine
+him 'bout he gifts. De jedge knowed Bandy Joe could dis'pear jus' like
+nothin', and he like to hear he quotation how he git out he skin. I'd
+like to know dat myself.
+
+"I 'magines I seed ghosties two, three times. I used to range round at
+nighttime. I rides through a old slavery field and de folks tell me,
+'Harry, you better be careful gwine 'cross dat old field. They's things
+dere what makes mules run 'way. One night it am late and my mule run
+'way. I make my mind I go back and see what he run from and somethin' am
+by de fence like de bear stand up straight. It stand dere 'bout fifteen
+minutes while I draws my best 'pinion of it. I didn't get any nearer dan
+to see it. A man down de road tell me de place am hanted and he dunno
+how many wagons and mules git pull by dat thing at dat place.
+
+"One time I's livin' 'nother place and it am 'twixt sundown and dusk. I
+had a li'l boy 'hind me and I seed a big sow with no head comin' over de
+fence. My ma, she allus say what I see might be 'magination and to turn
+my head and look 'gain and I does dat. But it still dere. Den I seed a
+hoss goin' down de road and he drag a chain, and cross de bridge and
+turn down de side road. But when I git to de side road I ain't seed no
+hoss or nothin'. I didn't say nothin' to de li'l boy 'hind me on de mule
+till I gits most home, den asks him did he see anythin'. He say no. I
+wouldn't tell him 'fore dat, 'cause I 'fraid he light out and outrun me
+and I didn't want to be by myself with dem things. When I gits home and
+tell everybody, dey say dat a man name McCoy, what was kilt dere and I
+seed he spirit.
+
+"I's 'bout twenty-one when I marries Mandy Green. Us has twelve chillen,
+and a world of grandchillen. I travels all over Louisiana and Texas in
+my time, and come here three year ago. My son he work in de box fact'ry
+here, and he git a bodily injurement while he workin' and die, and I
+come here to de burial and I been here ever since.
+
+
+
+
+420269
+
+
+     FRANK BELL, 86, was a slave of Johnson Bell, who ran a saloon in
+     New Orleans. Frank lives in Madisonville, Texas.
+
+
+"I was owned by Johnson Bell and born in New Orleans, in Louisiana.
+'Cordin' to the bill of sale, I'm eighty-six years old, and my master
+was a Frenchman and was real mean to me. He run saloon and kept bad
+women. I don't know nothing 'bout my folks, if I even had any, 'cept
+mama. They done tell me she was a bad woman and a French Creole.
+
+"I worked 'round master's saloon, kep' everything cleaned up after
+they'd have all night drinkin' parties, men and women. I earned nickels
+to tip off where to go, so's they could sow wild oats. I buried the
+nickels under rocks. If master done cotch me with money, he'd take it
+and beat me nearly to death. All I had to eat was old stuff those people
+left, all scraps what was left.
+
+"One time some bad men come to master's and gits in a shootin' scrape
+and they was two men kilt. I sho' did run. But master cotch me and make
+me take them men to the river and tie a weight on them, so they'd sink
+and the law wouldn't git him.
+
+"The clothes I wore was some master's old ones. They allus had holes in
+them. Master he stay drunk nearly all time and was mean to his slave.
+I'm the only one he had, and didn't cost him nothing. He have bill of
+sale made, 'cause the law say he done stole me when I'm small child.
+Master kept me in chains sometimes. He shot several men.
+
+"I didn't have no quarters but stays 'round the place and throw old sack
+down and lay there and sleep. I'm 'fraid to run, 'cause master say he'd
+hunt me and kill nigger.
+
+"When I's 'bout seventeen I marries a gal while master on drunk spell.
+Master he run her off, and I slips off at night to see her, but he finds
+it out. He takes a big, long knife and cuts her head plumb off, and ties
+a great, heavy weight to her and makes me throw her in the river. Then
+he puts me in chains and every night he come give me a whippin', for
+long time.
+
+"When war come, master swear he not gwine fight, but the Yankees they
+captures New Orleans and throws master in a pen and guards him. He gets
+a chance and 'scapes.
+
+"When war am over he won't free me, says I'm valuable to him in his
+trade. He say, 'Nigger, you's suppose to be free but I'll pay you a
+dollar a week and iffen you runs off I'll kill you.' So he makes me do
+like befo' the war, but give me 'bout a dollar a month, 'stead week.
+
+"He say I cost more'n I'm worth, but he won't let me go. Times I don't
+know why I didn't die befo' I'm growed, sleepin' on the ground, winter
+and summer, rain and snow. But not much snow there.
+
+"Master helt me long years after the war. If anybody git after him, he
+told them I stay 'cause I wants to stay, but told me if I left he'd kill
+him 'nother nigger. I stayed till he gits in a drunk brawl one night
+with men and women and they gits to shootin' and some kilt. Master got
+kilt. Then I'm left to live or die, so I wanders from place to place. I
+nearly starved to death befo' I'd leave New Orleans, 'cause I couldn't
+think master am dead and I'm 'fraid. Finally I gits up nerve to leave
+town, and stays the first night in white man's barn. I never slep'.
+Every time I hears something, I jumps up and master be standin' there,
+lookin' at me, but soon's I git up he'd leave. Next night I slep' out in
+a hay field, and master he git right top of a tree and start hollerin at
+me. I never stays in that place. I gits gone from that place. I gits
+back to town fast as my legs carry me.
+
+"Then I gits locked up in jail. I don't know what for, never did know.
+One the men says to me to come with him and takes me to the woods and
+gives me an ax. I cuts rails till I nearly falls, all with chain locked
+'round feet, so I couldn't run off. He turns me loose and I wanders
+'gain. Never had a home. Works for men long 'nough to git fifty, sixty
+cents, then starts roamin' 'gain, like a stray dog like.
+
+"After long time I marries Feline Graham. Then I has a home and we has a
+white preacher marry us. We has one boy and he farms and I lives with
+him. I worked at sawmill and farms all my life, but never could make
+much money.
+
+"You know, the nigger was wild till the white man made what he has out
+of the nigger. He done ed'cate them real smart.
+
+
+
+
+420193
+
+
+     Aunt VIRGINIA BELL, 1205 Ruthven St., Houston, was born a slave
+     near Opelousas, Louisiana, on the plantation of Thomas Lewis.
+     Although she remembers being told she was born on Christmas Day,
+     she does not know the year, but says she guesses she is about 88
+     years old.
+
+
+"Well, suh, the fus' question you ask me, 'bout how old I is, I don'
+know 'zactly. You see it ain't like things is today. The young folks can
+tell you their 'zact age and everything, but in those days we didn' pay
+much 'tention to such things. But I knows I was bo'n in slavery times
+and my pappy tol' me I was bo'n on a Christmas Day, but didn' 'member
+jus' what year.
+
+"We was owned by Massa Lewis. Thomas Lewis was his name, and he was a
+United States lawyer. I ain't gwineter talk 'gainst my white folks like
+some cullud folks do, 'cause Massa Lewis was a mighty fine man and so
+was Miss Mary, and they treated us mighty good.
+
+"Massa had a big plantation near Opelousas and I was bo'n there. I
+'member the neighbor folks used to bring their cotton to the gin on his
+farm for ginnin' and balin'. My mother's name was Della. That was all,
+jus' Della. My pappy's name was Jim Blair. Both of them was from
+Virginny, but from diff'rent places, and was brought to Louisiana by
+nigger traders and sold to Massa Lewis. I know my pappy was lots older
+than my mother and he had a wife and five chillen back in Virginny and
+had been sold away from them out here. Then he and my mother started a
+family out here. I don' know what become of his family back in Virginny,
+'cause when we was freed he stayed with us.
+
+"When I got old enough I was housegirl and used to carry notes for Miss
+Mary to the neighbors and bring back answers. Miss Mary would say, 'Now,
+Virginny, you take this note to sech and sech place and be sure and be
+back in sech and sech time,' and I allus was.
+
+"Massa Lewis had four or five families of us slaves, but we used to have
+some fun after work and us young folks would skip rope and play ring
+games. Durin' week days the field hands would work till the sun was jus'
+goin' down and then the overseer would holler 'all right' and that was
+the signal to quit. All hands knocked off Sat'day noon.
+
+"We didn' have no schoolin' or preachin'. Only the white folks had them,
+but sometimes on Sundays we'd go up to the house and listen to the white
+folks singin'.
+
+"Iffen any of the slave hands wanted to git married, Massa Lewis would
+git them up to the house after supper time, have the man and woman jine
+hands and then read to them outen a book. I guess it was the Scriptures.
+Then he'd tell 'em they was married but to be ready for work in the
+mornin'. Massa Lewis married us 'cordin' to Gospel.
+
+"Massa used to feed us good, too, and we had plenty clothes. Iffen we
+got took sick, we had doctor treatment, too. Iffen a hand took sick in
+the field with a misery, they was carried to their quarters and Massa or
+Miss Mary would give them a dose of epecac and make them vomit and would
+sen' for the doctor. They wouldn' fool none iffen one of us took sick,
+but would clean us out and take care of us till we was well.
+
+"There was mighty little whippin' goin' on at our place, 'cause Massa
+Lewis and Miss Mary treated us good. They wasn't no overseer goin' to
+whip, 'cause Massa wouldn' 'low him to. Le's see, I don' rec'lec' more
+than two whippin's I see anyone git from Massa, and that has been so
+long ago I don' rec'lec' what they was for.
+
+"When the War done come 'long it sho' changed things, and we heerd this
+and that, but we didn' know much what it was about. Then one day Massa
+Lewis had all the wagons loaded with food and chairs and beds and other
+things from the house and our quarters, and I heerd him say we was
+movin' to Polk County, way over in Texas. I know it took us a long time
+to git there, and when we did I never see so much woods. It sho' was
+diff'rent from the plantation.
+
+"I had to work in the fields, same as the res', and we stayed there
+three years and made three crops of cotton, but not so much as on our
+old place, 'cause there wasn't so much clearin'. Then one day Massa
+Lewis tol' us we was free, jus' as free as he was--jus' like you take
+the bridle offen a hoss and turn him loose. We jus' looked 'roun as
+iffen we hadn' good sense. We didn' have nothin' nor nowhere to go, and
+Massa Lewis say iffen we finish makin' de crop, he would take us back to
+Opelousas and give us a place to stay and feed us. So after pickin' we
+goes back and when we git there we sees where those rascal Yankees
+'stroyed everything--houses burned, sugar kettles broke up. It looked
+mighty bad.
+
+"Massa Lewis hadn' no money, but he fixed us up a place to stay and give
+us what he could to eat, but things was mighty hard for a while. I know
+pappy used to catch rabbits and take them to town and sell them or trade
+them for somethin' to eat, and you know that wasn't much, 'cause you
+can't git much for a little ol' rabbit.
+
+"Then the Provo' Marshal, that was his name, give us a order for things
+to put in a crop with and to live till we made the crop. 'Course, I
+guess we wasn' as bad off as some, 'cause white folks knew we was Massa
+Lewis' folks and didn' bother us none.
+
+Then I got married to John Bell, and it was a scripture weddin', too. He
+died 28 years ago, but I has stayed married to him ever since. We had
+thirteen chillen, but they is all dead now 'cept four, but they was
+raised up right and they is mighty good to they ol' mammy.
+
+
+
+
+420114
+
+
+[Illustration: Edgar and Minerva Bendy]
+
+
+     EDGAR BENDY, 90 odd years, was the slave of Henry Bendy, of
+     Woodville, Texas, has to make an effort to remember and is forced
+     to seek aid from his wife, Minerva, at certain points in his story.
+     Edgar has lived in Woodville all his life.
+
+
+"I's a good size' boy when de war gwine on and I seed de soldiers come
+right here in Woodville. A big bunch of dem come through and dey have
+cannons with dem. My marster he didn't go to war, 'cause he too old, I
+guess.
+
+"I's born right here and done live hereabouts every since. Old man Henry
+Bendy, he my marster and he run de store here in Woodville and have de
+farm, too. I didn't do nothin' 'cept nuss babies. I jes' jump dem up and
+down and de old marster hire me out to nuss other white folks chillen,
+big and little.
+
+"My daddy name' Jack Crews and my mammy was Winnie. Both of dem worked
+on de farm and I never seed dem much. I didn't have no house of my own,
+'cause de marster, he give me de room in he house. He have lots of
+slaves and 'bout 100 acres in cult'vation. He gave dem plenty to eat and
+good homespun clothes to wear. He was mighty good.
+
+"Marster have de plank house and all de things in it was home-made. De
+cook was a old cullud woman and I eat at de kitchen table and have de
+same what de white folks eats. Us has lots of meat, deer meat and possum
+and coon and sich, and us sets traps for birds.
+
+"Dey ain't nothin' better dat go in de wood dan de big, fat possum. Dey
+git fat on black haws and acorns and chinquapin and sich. Chinquapin is
+good for people to eat and to roast. I used to be plumb give up to be de
+best hunter in Tyler and in de whole country. I kilt more deer dan any
+other man in de county and I been guide for all de big men what comes
+here to hunt. My wife, Minerva, she used to go huntin' with me.
+
+"I kep' on huntin' and huntin' till de Jack-a-my-lanterns git after me.
+Dat a light you sees all 'round you. Dey follow all 'long and dey stop
+you still. Den one time it git all over me. Come like de wind, blow,
+blow, and come jes' like fire all on my arm and my clothes and things. When
+dat git after me I quit huntin' at nighttime and ain't been huntin'
+since.
+
+"One time I fishin' on de creek and I ain't got no gun, and I look up
+and dere a big, wild cat. He never pay me no mind, no more dan nothin',
+but dat ain't made no diff'rence to me. I jes' flew in dat creek!
+
+"I used to belong to de lodge but when I git so old I couldn't pay my
+jews, I git unfinancial and I ain't a member no more.
+
+
+
+
+420174
+
+
+     MINERVA BENDY, 83, was born a slave to Lazarus Goolsby, Henry Co.
+     Alabama, who brought her to Texas when she was five. They settled
+     near Woodville, where Minerva still lives.
+
+
+"My earlies' 'membrance was de big, white sandy road what lead 'way from
+de house. It was clean and white and us chillen love to walk in de soft,
+hot sand. Dat in Henry County, Alabama, where I's born and my old
+marster was Lazarus Goolsby and he have de big plantation with lots of
+nigger folks. I 'member jus' as good as yesterday wigglin' my toes in
+dat sandy road and runnin' 'way to de grits mill where dey grind de
+meal. Dat have de big water wheel dat sing and squeak as it go 'round.
+
+"Aunt Mary, she make all us little chillen sleep in de heat of de day
+under de big, spreadin' oak tree in de yard. My mama have 17 chillen.
+Her name Dollie and my daddy name Herd.
+
+"I's jus' a little chile in dem days and I stay in de house with de
+white folks. Dey raise me a pet in de family. Missus Goolsby, she have
+two gals and dey give me to de oldest. When she die dey put me in de bed
+with her but iffen I knowed she dyin' dey wouldn't been able to cotch
+me. She rub my head and tell her papa and mama, 'I's gwine 'way but I
+wants you promise you ain't never whip my little nigger.' Dey never did.
+
+"I's jus' 'bout five year old when us make de trip to Texas. Us come
+right near Woodville and make de plantation. It a big place and dey
+raise corn and cotton and cane. We makes our own sugar and has many as
+six kettle on de furnace at one time. Dey raise dey tobacco, too. I's
+sick and a old man he say he make me tobacco medicine and dey dry de
+leafs and make dem sweet like sugar and feed me like candy.
+
+"I 'member old marster say war broke out and Capt. Collier's men was
+a-drillin' right dere south of Woodville. All de wives and chillen watch
+dem drill. Dey was lots of dem, but I couldn't count. De whole shebang
+from de town go watch dem.
+
+"Four of the Goolsby boys goes to dat war and dey call John and Ziby and
+Zabud and Addison. Zabud, he git wounded, no he git kilt, and Addison he
+git wounded. I worry den, 'cause I ain't see no reason for dem to have
+to die.
+
+"After us free dey turn us loose in de woods and dat de bad time, 'cause
+most us didn't know where to turn. I wasn't raise to do nothin' and I
+didn't know how. Dey didn't even give us a hoecake or a slice of bacon.
+
+"I's a June bride 59 year ago when I git married. De old white Baptist
+preacher name Blacksheer put me and dat nigger over dere, Edgar Bendy,
+togedder and us been togedder ever since. Us never have chick or chile.
+I's such a good nuss I guess de Lawd didn't want me to have none of my
+own, so's I could nuss all de others and I 'spect I's nussed most de
+white chillen and cullud, too, here in Woodville.
+
+
+
+
+420177
+
+
+     SARAH BENJAMIN, 82, was born a slave of the Gilbert family, in
+     Clavin Parish, Louisiana. In 1867 she married Cal Benjamin and they
+     settled in Corsicana, Texas, where Sarah now lives.
+
+
+"I is Sarah Benjamin and is 82 year old, 'cause my mammy told me I's
+born in 1855 in Clavin Parish in Louisiana. Her name was Fannie and my
+pappy's name Jack Callahan. There was jus' three of us chillen and I's
+de oldest.
+
+"Marse Gilbert was tol'able good to we'uns, and give us plenty to eat.
+He had a smokehouse big as a church and it was full, and in de big
+kitchen we all et, chillen and all. De grown folks et first and den de
+chillen. Did we have plenty of possums and fish by de barrels full! All
+dis was cooked in de racks over de fireplace and it were good.
+
+"Our clothes was all homespun and de shoes made by de shoemaker. Old
+marse wanted all us to go to church and if dey didn't have shoes dey
+have something like de moccasin.
+
+"I don't know how many slaves there was, but it was a lot, maybe 60 or
+70. Dey worked hard every day 'cept Sunday. Iffen they was bad they
+might git whuppin's, but not too hard, not to de blood. Iffen dey was
+still bad, dey puts chains on dem and puts dem in de stocks, 'cause
+there wasn't no jail there.
+
+"Once when I's little, marse stripped me stark modern naked and puts me
+on de block, but he wouldn't sell me, 'cause he was bid only $350.00 and
+he say no, 'cause I was good and fat.
+
+"Dey didn't larn us nothin' and iffen you did larn to write, you better
+keep it to yourse'f, 'cause some slaves got de thumb or finger cut off
+for larnin' to write. When de slaves come in from de fields dey didn't
+larn nothin', they jus' go to bed, 'lessen de moonshine nights come and
+dey could work in de tobacco patch. De marster give each one de little
+tobacco patch and iffen he raised more'n he could use he could sell it.
+
+"On Christmas we all has de week vacation and maybe de dance. We allus
+have de gran' dinner on dat day, and no whuppin's. But dey couldn't
+leave de plantation without de pass, even on Christmas.
+
+"De women had to run de gin in de daytime and de man at night. Dey fed
+de old gin from baskets and my mammy fed from dose baskets all day with
+de high fever and died dat night. She wouldn't tell de marster she sick,
+fer fear she have to take de quinine.
+
+"De day we was freed, de slaves jus' scattered, 'cepting me. Missy
+Gilbert says I wasn't no slave no more but I had to stay and he'p her
+for my board 'till I's grown. I stayed 'till I was 'bout 16, den I runs
+away and marries Cal Benjamin, and we comes to Texas. Cal and me has six
+chillen, but he died 'fore dey was grown.
+
+
+
+
+420023
+
+
+     JACK BESS was born near Goliad, Texas in 1854, a slave of Steve
+     Bess who was a rancher. He worked with stock as a very young boy
+     and this was his duty during and after the Civil War, as he
+     remained with his boss for three years after emancipation. He then
+     came to old Ben Ficklin four miles south of the present San Angelo,
+     Texas, when it was the county seat of Tom Green County and before
+     there was a San Angelo. He continued his work on ranches here and
+     has never done any other kind of work. For the past several years
+     he has been very feeble and has made his home with a daughter in
+     San Angelo, Texas.
+
+
+Jack who was assisted out of bed and dressed by his grandson, hobbled in
+on his cane and said, "I was jes' a small boy workin' on de ranch when I
+hear talk 'bout conscription' de men for de war what was agoin' to set
+de slaves free. We didn' know hardly what dey was a talkin' 'bout 'cause
+we knowed dat would be too good to be true. I jes' keeps on workin' wid
+my hosses and my cattle (dere wasn't no sheep den) jes' like dere wasn't
+no war, 'cause dat was all I ever knowed how to do.
+
+"Our ole marster, he wasn't so very mean to us, course he whips us once
+and awhile but dat wasn't like de slave holders what had dem colored
+drivers. Dey sho' was rough on de slaves. I's been told lots 'bout de
+chains and de diffe'nt punishments but our treatment wasn't so bad. Our
+beds was pretty good when we uses dem. Lots of de time we jes' sleeps on
+de groun', 'specially in summer.
+
+"Our log huts was comfortable and we had some kind of floors in all of
+dem. Some was plank and some was poles but dat was better den de dirt
+floors some cabins have.
+
+"De eats we have was jes' good eats, lots of meats and vegetables and de
+like; 'possum and coon and beef and pork all cooked good. Our clothes
+was jes' home spun like all de others.
+
+"We didn' have such a big ranch and not many slaves but we all gits
+along. We learns a little 'bout readin' and writin'.
+
+"I don't 'member any camp meetin's 'til after de war. We had a few den
+and on Christmas times we jes' tears up de country. Lawdy! Lawd! Dat
+fiddlin' went on all night, and we dance awhile den lay down and sleeps,
+den gits up and dances some mo'e. We would have big cakes and
+everything good to eat.
+
+"When we gits sick dey jes' gives us some kind of tea, mostly made from
+weeds. Mos' of de time we gits well.
+
+"When de news comes dat we was free our boss, he say, 'You free now.'
+Course we was glad but we didn' know nothin' to do but jes' stay on
+dere, and we did 'bout three years and de boss pays us a little by de
+month for our work.
+
+"I's lef' dere den and comes to old Ben Ficklin to work on a ranch. Dat
+was before dere was any San Angelo, Texas. I's been here ever since,
+jes' a workin' from one ranch to another long as I was able. Now I's
+jes' stayin' 'round wid my chillun and dey takes good care of me."
+
+
+
+
+420170
+
+
+     ELLEN BETTS, 118 N. Live Oak St., Houston, Texas, is 84. All of her
+     people and their masters came from Virginia and settled in
+     Louisiana about 1853. Her grandparents belonged to the Green family
+     and her parents, Charity and William Green, belonged to Tolas
+     Parsons. Ellen lives with friends who support her. Her sole
+     belonging is an old trunk and she carries the key on a string
+     around her neck.
+
+
+"I got borned on de Bayou Teche, clost to Opelousas. Dat in St. Mary's
+Parish, in Louisiana, and I belonged to Tolas Parsons, what had 'bout
+500 slaves, countin' de big ones and de little ones, and he had God know
+what else. When my eyes jes' barely fresh open, Marse Tolas die and will
+de hull lot of us to he brother, William Tolas. And I tells you dat
+Marse William am de greates' man what ever walk dis earth. Dat's de
+truth. I can't lie on him when de pore man's in he grave.
+
+"When a whuppin' got to be done, old Marse do it heself. He don't 'low
+no overseer to throw he gals down and pull up dere dress and whup on
+dere bottoms like I hear tell some of 'em do. Was he still livin' I
+'spect one part of he hands be with him today. I knows I would.
+
+"When us niggers go down de road folks say, 'Dem's Parson's niggers.
+Don't hit one dem niggers for God's sake, or Parsons sho' eat your
+jacket up.'
+
+"Aunt Rachel what cook in de big house for Miss Cornelia had four
+young'uns and dem chillen fat and slick as I ever seen. All de niggers
+have to stoop to Aunt Rachel jes' like dey curtsy to Missy. I mind de
+time her husband, Uncle Jim, git mad and hit her over de head with de
+poker. A big knot raise up on Aunt Rachel's head and when Marse 'quire
+'bout it, she say she done bump de head. She dassn't tell on Uncle Jim
+or Marse sho' beat him. Marse sho' proud dem black, slick chillen of
+Rachels. You couldn't find a yaller chile on he place. He sho' got no
+use for mixin' black and white.
+
+"Marse William have de pretties' place up and down dat bayou, with de
+fine house and fine trees and sech. From where we live it's five mile to
+Centerville one way and five mile to Patterson t'other. Dey hauls de
+lumber from one place or t'other to make wood houses for de slaves.
+Sometime Marse buy de furniture and sometime de carpenter make it.
+
+"Miss Sidney was Marse's first wife and he had six boys by her. Den he
+marry de widow Cornelius and she give him four boys. With ten chillen
+springin' up quick like dat and all de cullud chillen comin' 'long fast
+as pig litters, I don't do nothin' all my days, but nuss, nuss, nuss. I
+nuss so many chillen it done went and stunted my growth and dat's why I
+ain't nothin' but bones to dis day.
+
+"When de cullud women has to cut cane all day till midnight come and
+after, I has to nuss de babies for dem and tend de white chillen, too.
+Some dem babies so fat and big I had to tote de feet while 'nother gal
+tote de head. I was sech a li'l one, 'bout seven or eight year old. De
+big folks leave some toddy for colic and cryin' and sech and I done
+drink de toddy and let de chillen have de milk. I don't know no better.
+Lawsy me, it a wonder I ain't de bigges' drunker in dis here country,
+countin' all de toddy I done put in my young belly!
+
+"When late of night come, iffen dem babies wake up and bawl, I set up a
+screech and out-screech dem till dey shut dere mouth. De louder day bawl
+de louder I bawl. Sometime when Marse hear de babies cry, he come down
+and say, 'Why de chillen cry like dat, Ellen?' I say, 'Marse, I git so
+hongry and tired I done drink de milk up.' When I talk sassy like dat,
+Marse jes' shake he finger at me, 'cause he knowed I's a good one and
+don't let no little mite starve.
+
+"Nobody ever hit me a lick. Marse allus say bein' mean to de young'uns
+make dem mean when dey grows up and nobody gwineter buy a mean nigger.
+Marse don't even let de chillen go to de big cane patch. He plant little
+bitty patches close to de house and each li'l nigger have a patch and he
+work it till it got growed. Marse have de house girls make popcorn for
+'em and candy.
+
+"I nuss de sick folks too. Sometime I dose with Blue Mass pills and
+sometime Dr. Fawcett leave rhubarb and ipicac and calomel and castor oil
+and sech. Two year after de war, I git marry and git chillen of my own
+and den I turn into de wet nuss. I wet nuss de white chillen and black
+chillen, like dey all de same color. Sometime I have a white'un pullin'
+de one side and a black one de other.
+
+"I wanted to git de papers for midwifin' but, law, I don't never have no
+time for larnin' in slave time. If Marse cotch a paper in you hand he
+sho' whop you. He don't 'low no bright niggers 'round, he sell 'em
+quick. He allus say, 'Book larnin' don't raise no good sugar cane.' De
+only larnin' he 'low was when dey larn de cullud chillen de Methodist
+catechism. De only writin' a nigger ever git, am when he git born or
+marry or die, den Marse put de name in de big book.
+
+Law, I 'lect de time Marse marry Miss Cornelia. He went on de mail boat
+and brung her from New Orleans. She de pretties' woman in de world
+almost, 'ceptin' she have de bigges' mouth I nearly ever seed. He brung
+her up to de house and all de niggers and boys and girls and cats and
+dogs and sech come and salute her. Dere she stand on de gallery, with a
+purty white dress on with red stripes runnin' up and down. Marse say to
+her, 'Honey, see all de black folks, dey 'longs to you now.' She wave to
+us and smile on us and nex' day she give her weddin' dress to my ma. Dat
+de fines' dress I ever seen. It was purple and green silk and all de
+nigger gals wear dat dress when dey git marry. My sister Sidney wore it
+and Sary and Mary.
+
+"Miss Cornelia was de fines' woman in de world. Come Sunday mornin' she
+done put a bucket of dimes on de front gallery and stand dere and throw
+dimes to de nigger chillen jes' like feedin' chickens. I sho' right here
+to test'fy, 'cause I's right dere helpin' grab. Sometime she done put da
+washtub of buttermilk on de back gallery and us chillen bring us gourds
+and dip up dat good, old buttermilk till it all git drunk up. Sometime
+she fotch bread and butter to de back gallery and pass it out when it
+don't even come mealtime.
+
+"Miss Cornelia set my ma to cuttin' patterns and sewin' right away. She
+give all de women a bolt or linsey to make clothes and ma cut de
+pattern. Us all have de fine drawers down to de ankle, buttoned with
+pretty white buttons on de bottom. Lawsy, ma sho' cut a mite of drawers,
+with sewin' for her eleven gals and four boys, too. In de summertime we
+all git a bolt of blue cloth and white tape for trimmin', to make Sunday
+dresses. For de field, all de niggers git homespun what you make jumpers
+out of. I 'lect how Marse say, 'Don't go into de field dirty Monday
+mornin'. Scrub youself and put on de clean jumper.'
+
+"Marse sho' good to dem gals and bucks what cuttin' de cane. When dey
+git done makin' sugar, he give a drink call 'Peach 'n Honey' to de women
+folk and whiskey and brandy to de men. And of all de dancin' and
+caperin' you ever seen! My pa was fiddler and we'd cut de pigeon wing
+and cut de buck and every other kind of dance. Sometime pa git tired and
+say he ain't gwineter play no more and us gals git busy and pop him corn
+and make candy, so to 'tice him to play more.
+
+"Marse sho' turn over in he grave did he know 'bout some dat 'lasses.
+Dem black boys don't care. I seen 'em pull rats out de sugar barrel and
+dey taste de sugar and say, 'Ain't nothin' wrong with dat sugar. It
+still sweet.' One day a pert one pull a dead scorpion out de syrup
+kettle and he jes' laugh and say, 'Marse don't want waste none dis
+syrup,' and he lick de syrup right off dat scorpion's body and legs.
+
+"Lawsy me, I seen thousands and thousands sugar barrels and kettles of
+syrup in my day. Lawd knows how much cane old Marse have. To dem cuttin'
+de cane it don't seem so much, but to dem what work hour in, hour out,
+dem sugar cane fields sho' stretch from one end de earth to de other.
+Marse ship hogs and hogs of sugar down de bayou. I seen de river boats
+go down with big signs what say, 'Buy dis here 'lasses' on de side. And
+he raise a world of rice and 'taters and corn and peanuts, too.
+
+"When de work slight, us black folks sho have de balls and dinners and
+sech. We git all day to barbecue meat down on de bayou and de white
+folks come down and eat long side de cullud.
+
+"When a black gal marry, Marse marry her hisself in de big house. He
+marry 'em Saturday, so dey git Sunday off, too. One time de river boat
+come bearin' de license for niggers to git marry with. Marse chase 'em
+off and say, 'Don't you come truckin' no no-count papers roun' my
+niggers. When I marry 'em, dey marry as good as if de Lawd God hisself
+marry 'em and it don't take no paper to bind de tie.' Marse don't stand
+no messin' 'round, neither. A gal have to be of age and ask her pa and
+ma and Marse and Missy, and if dey 'gree, dey go ahead and git marry.
+Marse have de marry book to put de name down.
+
+"One time Marse take me 'long to help tote some chillen. He done write
+up to Virginny for to buy fresh hands. Dey a old man dat hobble 'long de
+road and de chillen start to throw rocks and de old man turn 'round to
+one prissy one and say, 'Go on, young'un, you'll be where dogs can't
+bark at you tomorrow. Nex' mornin' us cookin' in de kitchen and all a
+sudden dat li'l boy jes' crumple up dead on de floor. Law, we's scairt.
+Nobody ever bother dat old man no more, for he sho' lay de evil finger
+on you.
+
+"Marse's brother, Conrad, what was a widdyman, come to live on de
+plantation and he had a li'l gal 'bout eight year old. One day she in de
+plum orchard playin' with a rattlesnake and Marse Conrad have de fit. De
+li'l gal won't let nobody hurt dat snake and she play with him. He won't
+bite her. She keeps him 'bout three year, and she'd rub and grease him.
+One day he got sick and dey give him some brandy, but he die and old Doc
+pickle him in de bottle of brandy. Dat gal git so full of grief dey take
+her to de infirm'ry in New Orleans and den one day she up and die.
+
+"Dat snake ain't all what Doc Fawcett pickle. A slave woman give birth
+to a baby gal what have two faces with a strip of hair runnin' 'tween.
+Old Doc Fawcett pickle it in de jar of brandy. Old doc start to court
+Miss Cornelia when Marse die, but she don't have none of him and he
+done went straight 'way and kill hisself.
+
+"One day a li'l man come ridin' by on a li'l dun hoss so fast you
+couldn't see dat hoss tail a-switchin'. He whoopin' and hollerin'. Us
+niggers 'gun whoop and holler, too. Den first thing you know de Yanks
+and de Democrats 'gun to fight right dere. Dey a high old mountain front
+Marse's house and de Yanks 'gun pepper cannon ball down from de top dat
+hill. De war met right dere and dem Yanks and Democrats fit for
+twenty-four hours straight runnin'.
+
+"When de bullets starts rainin' down, Marse call us and slip us way back
+into de woods, where it so black and deep. Next day, when de fight over,
+Marse come out with great big wagons piles full of mess-poke for us to
+eat. Dat what us call hog meat. Us sho' glad to 'scape from de Yankees.
+
+"When us driv back to de plantation, sech a sight I never seen. Law, de
+things I can tell. Dem Yanks have kilt men and women. I seed babies pick
+up from de road with dere brains bust right out. One old man am drawin'
+water and a cannon ball shoots him right in de well. Dey draws him up
+with de fishin' line. Dey's a old sugar boat out on de bayou with blood
+and sugar runnin' long side de busted barrels. 'Lasses run in de bayou
+and blood run in de ditches. Marse have de great big orchard on de road
+and it wipe clean as de whistle. Bullets wipe up everythin' and bust dat
+sugar cane all to pieces. De house sot far back and 'scape de bullets,
+but, law, de time dey have!
+
+"Dey's awful, awful times after dat. A old cotton dress cost five
+dollars and a pound of coffee cost five dollars and a pint cup flour
+cost six bits. De Yanks 'round all de time and one day they comes right
+in de house where Miss Cornelia eatin' her dinner. Dey march 'round de
+table, jes' scoopin' up meat and 'taters and grabbin' cornpone right and
+left. Miss Cornelia don't say a word, jes' smile sweet as honey-cake. I
+reckon dem sojers might a took de silver and sech only she charm 'em by
+bein' so quiet and ladylike. First thing you know dem sojers curtsy to
+Missy and take dereself right out de door and don't come back.
+
+"Den it seem like Marse have all de trouble in de world. He boy, Ned,
+die in de war and William, what name for he pa, drink bad all de time.
+And after de war dem Ku Kluxers what wear de false faces try to tinker
+with Marse's niggers. One day Uncle Dave start to town and a Kluxer ask
+him where am he pass. Dat Kluxer clout him but Uncle Dave outrun him in
+de cane. Marse grab de hoss and go 'rest dat man and Marse a jedge and
+he make dat man pay de fine for hittin' Uncle Dave. After dey hears of
+dat, dem old poky faces sho' scairt of old Marse and dey git out from
+Opelousas and stays out. When me and my husband, John, come to Texas de
+folks say dat Louisiana masters de meanes' in de world and I say right
+back at 'em dat dey is good and mean in every spot of de earth. What
+more, de Louisiana masters free dere niggers a year befo' any Texas
+nigger git free.
+
+"When 'mancipation come, Marse git on de big block and say, 'You all is
+as free as I is, standin' right here. Does you want to stay with me, you
+can, and I'll pay you for de work.' All de niggers cheer and say dey
+want to stay, but Marse die not long after and all us niggers scatter.
+
+"I sho' 'lect dat day old Marse die. He won't die till ma gits there. He
+keep sayin', "Where's Charity, tell Charity to come." Dey fotch ma from
+de cane patch and she hold Marse's hand till he die. Us niggers went to
+de graveyard and us sho' cry over old Marse.
+
+"Marse's brother, Goldham, carries all he hands back to de free country
+to turn 'em loose. He say de free country am de ones what's yellin'
+'bout slave times, so dey could jes' take care of de niggers. Marse
+Goldham so big dat when he stand in de door you couldn't git by him,
+'thout he stand sideways.
+
+"Law, times ain't like dey was in slave days. All my ten chillen is dead
+and my old man gone, and now I reckon my time 'bout 'rive. All I got to
+do now am pray de Lawd to keep me straight, den when de great day come,
+I can march de road to glory.
+
+
+
+
+420125
+
+
+[Illustration: Charlotte Beverley]
+
+
+     CHARLOTTE BEVERLY was born a slave to Captain Pankey's wife, in
+     Montgomery County, Texas. She has lived most of her life within a
+     radius of 60 miles from Houston, and now lives with one of her
+     children in a little house on the highway between Cleveland and
+     Shepherd, Texas. She does not know her age, but appears to be about
+     ninety.
+
+
+"I's born in Montgomery County and I's the mudder of eleven chillen,
+four gals and seven boys. My grandma come from Alabama and my daddy was
+Strawder Green and he belong to Col. Hughes. My maw named Phyllis and
+she belong to Capt. Pankey.
+
+"There was 'bout forty niggers, big and little, on the plantation. Lawd,
+they was good to us. Us didn' know nothin' 'bout bad times and cutting
+and whipping and slashing. I had to work in the house and I 'member one
+thing I has to do was scrub Mistus' gol' snuffbox twict a week. She kep'
+sweet, Scotch snuff and sometimes I takes a pinch out.
+
+"We used to go to the white folks church and if us couldn' git in we'd
+stand round by the door and sing. Mistus wouldn' 'low us dance on the
+place but they give us pass to go to dance on nex' plantation, where my
+daddy live.
+
+"Every year they have big Christmas dinner and ham and turkey
+and allus feed us good. Us have Christmas party and sing songs. That was
+sweet music.
+
+"Marster have a lovely house, all ceiled and plastered. It was a log
+house but it was make all beautiful inside with mirrors and on the board
+was lots of silver and china and silver spoons with the gol' linin's and
+part of my job was to keep 'em sparklin'.
+
+"Folks in them times cooks in the fireplace and my auntie, she cook. She
+make 'simmon bread and 'tater pone and the like. She mash up 'simmons
+with butter and pour sweet milk and flour in it. That make good 'simmon
+bread. We has skillets what was flat and deep and set on three legs.
+
+"The slaves lived in little log houses and sleep on wood beds. The beds
+was make three-legged. They make augur hole in side of the house and put
+in pieces of wood to make the bed frame, and they put straw and cotton
+mattress on them bed.
+
+"Old marster used to let he slaves have a extry cotton patch to
+theyselves and they work it by the moonlight. They could sell that
+cotton and have the money for theyselves.
+
+"My white mistus was a Christian and she'd own her God anywhere. She
+used to shout, jus' sit and clap her hands and say, 'Hallalujah.' Once I
+seed her shout in church and I thinks something ail her and I run down
+the aisle and goes to fannin' her.
+
+"One of the slaves was a sort-a preacher and sometimes marster 'lowed
+him to preach to the niggers, but he have to preach with a tub over his
+head, 'cause he git so happy he talk too loud. Somebody from the big
+house liable to come down and make him quit 'cause he makin' 'sturbance.
+
+"I brings water from the well and they have what they call piggins, and
+they was little tubs with two handles. Mistus wouldn' 'low me to do any
+heavy work.
+
+"I see sojers and knits socks for 'em by moonshine. Me and my husban'
+was married by a Yankee sojer. I was dress in white Tarleyton weddin'
+dress and I didn' wear no hoop skirt. I had a pretty wreath of little
+white flowers, little bitty, little dainty ones, the pretties' little
+things. When I marry, my sister marry too and our husban's was brudders.
+My husban' dress in suit of white linen. He sho' look handsome. He give
+me a gol' ring and a cup and saucer for weddin' gif'. We git married in
+Huntsville and us didn' go no weddin' journey trip. We was so poor we
+couldn' go round the house! I's 'bout twenty some year when I marries,
+but I don' know jus' how old. We has a big dance that night and the
+white folks come, 'cause they likes to see the niggers dance.
+
+"The white folks had interes' in they cullud people where I live.
+Sometimes they's as many as fifty cradle with little nigger babies in
+'em and the mistus, she look after them and take care of them, too. She
+turn them and dry them herself. She had a little gal git water and help.
+She never had no chillen of her own. I'd blow the horn for the mudders
+of the little babies to come in from the fields and nurse 'em, in
+mornin' and afternoon. Mistus feed them what was old enough to eat
+victuals. Sometimes, they mammies take them to the field and fix pallet
+on ground for them to lay on.
+
+"The las' word my old Mistus Pankey say when she die was, 'You take care
+of Charlette.'
+
+
+
+
+420249
+
+
+[Illustration: Francis Black]
+
+
+     FRANCIS BLACK was born at Grand Bluff, Mississippi, about 1850, on
+     the Jim Carlton plantation. When five years old, she was stolen and
+     taken to the slave market in New Orleans. Failing to sell her
+     there, the slave traders took her to Jefferson, Texas, and sold her
+     to Bill Tumlin. Francis stayed with him five years after she was
+     freed, then married and moved to Cass County, Texas. She became
+     blind a year ago, and now lives at the Bagland Old Folks Home, 313
+     Elm St., Texarkana, Texas.
+
+
+"My name am Francis Black, and I don't know jes' how old I is, but
+'members lots 'bout them slave days. I was a big gal, washin' and
+ironin', when they sot the darkies free. From that, I cal'late I'm in my
+eighties.
+
+"I was born in Grand Bluff, in Mississippi, on Old Man Carlton's
+plantation, and I was stole from my folks when I was a li'l gal and
+never seed them no more. Us kids played in the big road there in
+Mississippi, and one day me and 'nother gal is playin' up and down the
+road and three white men come 'long in a wagon. They grabs us up and
+puts us in the wagon and covers us with quilts. I hollers and yells and
+one the men say, 'Shet up, you nigger, or I'll kill you.' I told him,
+'Kill me if you wants to--you stole me from my folks.'
+
+"Them men took us to New Orleans to the big slave market. I had long
+hair and they cut it off like a boy and tried to sell me, but I told
+them men what looks at me, the men cut my hair off and stole me. The man
+what cut my hair off cursed me and said if I didn't hush he'd kill me,
+but he couldn't sell us at New Orleans and took us to Jefferson.
+
+"I never knowed what they done with the other gal, but they sold me to
+Marse Bill Tumlin, what run a big livery stable in Jefferson, and I
+'longed to him till surrender. I lived in the house with them, 'cause
+they had a boy and gal and I did for them. They bought me clothes and
+took good care of me but I never seed no money till surrender. I et what
+they et, after they got through. Missy say she didn't 'lieve in feedin'
+the darkies scraps, like some folks.
+
+"I played with them two chillen all day, then sot the table. I was so
+small I'd git in a chair to reach the dishes out of the safe. I had to
+pull a long flybrush over the table whilst the white folks et.
+
+"Marse Tumlin had a farm 'bout four mile from town, and a overseer, and
+I seed him buckle the niggers crost a log and whip them. Marse lived in
+Jefferson, heself, and when he'd go to the farm he allus took his boy
+with him. We'd be playin' in the barn and Marse call from the house,
+'Come on, Jimmie, we're gwine to the farm.' Jimmie allus say to me,
+'Come on, nigger, let's ride round the farm.' I'd say, 'I ain't no
+nigger.' He'd say, 'Yes, you is, my pa paid $200 for you. He bought you
+for to play with me.'
+
+"Jefferson was a good town till it burned up. I 'members the big fire
+what looked like the whole town gwineter burn up. Marse Bill lost his
+livery stable in the fire.
+
+"The Yankee soldiers, all dressed in blue, come to run the town after
+the war. Marse Tumlin done told me I'm free, but I stays on till I'm
+most growed. Then I works round town and marries Dave Black, and we
+moved to Cass County. I raises six chillun but my old man done git so
+triflin' and mean I quit him and worked for myself. I come to Texarkana
+to work, and allus could earn my own livin' till 'bout a year ago I lost
+my seein', and Albert Ragland done took me in his home for the old
+folks. They gives me a $10 a month pension now. They is good to me here
+and feeds us good.
+
+
+
+
+420142
+
+
+     OLIVIER BLANCHARD, 95 years old, was a slave of Clairville La San,
+     who owned a large plantation in Martinville Parish, Louisiana. His
+     father was a Frenchman and Olivier speaks rather haltingly, as
+     though it is difficult for him to express his thoughts in English,
+     for he has talked a species of French all his life. He lives in
+     Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"I was plowing and hoeing before the freedom and I talk more of the
+French 'cause I comes from St. Martinville Parish. I was born there in
+Louisiana and my mama was Angeline Jean Pierre and she was slave born.
+My papa was Olivier Blanchard and he white man carpenter on old
+plantation. We belong to Clairville La San and all live on
+that place. My papa just plain carpenter but could draw patterns for
+houses. I don't know where he larn that work.
+
+"I was count freeborn and still have one white half sister alive. When
+freedom come my mama and papa split up and mama get marry.
+
+"I pick cotton and mama cook. She make koosh-koosh and cyayah--that last
+plain clabber. Mama cook lots of gaspergou and carp and the poisson ami
+fish, with the long snout--what they call gar now. I think it eel fish
+they strip the skin off and wrap round the hair and make it curly.
+
+"The Bayou Teche, it run close by and the women do all the clothes with
+a big paddle with holes in it to clean them in the bayou. They paddle
+them clean on the rocks and then wash them in the water.
+
+"One time one big bayou 'gator come up and bite a woman's arm off. She
+my sister in law. But they keep on washing the clothes in the bayou just
+the same.
+
+"We have plenty to eat and peaches and muscadines and pecans, 'cause
+there right smart woods and swamp there. We play in the woods and most
+time in the bayou on boats with planks what would float. We had the good
+time and had a little pet coon. You know, the coon like sweet things and
+he steal our syrup and when we chase him with the switch he hide under
+the bed.
+
+"My old missus was good Catholic and she have us christened and make the
+first communion. That not registered, 'cause it before the freedom, but
+it were in old St. Martin's church, same old church what stand now.
+There was a statue of Pere Jean, the old priest, in front the church and
+one of St. Martin, too.
+
+"Plenty men from St. Martinville go to the war and Archie DeBlieu, he go
+to Virginia and fight. The first one to pass our place was John Well
+Banks and he was a Yankee going up the Red River.
+
+"The yellow fever came durin' that war and kill lots. All the big
+plantation have the graveyard for the cullud people. That fever so bad
+they get the coffin ready before they dead and they so scared that some
+weren't dead but they think they are and bury them. There was a white
+girl call Colene Sonnier what was to marry Sunday and she take sick
+Friday before. She say not to bury her in the ground but they put her
+there while they got the tomb ready. When they open the ground grave to
+put her in the tomb they find she buried alive and she eat all her own
+shoulder and hand away. Her sweetheart, Gart Berrild, he see that
+corpse, and he go home and get took with yellow fever and die.
+
+"They was the old lady what die. She was a terrible soul. One time after
+she die I go to get water out of her rain barrel and I had a lamp in one
+hand. That old lady's ghost blowed out the lamp and slapped the pitcher
+out my hand. After she first die her husband put black dress on her and
+tie up the jaw with a rag and my girl look in the room and there that
+old lady, Liza Lee, sittin' by the fire. My girl tell her mama and after
+three day she go back, and Liza Lee buried but my wife see her sittin'
+by the fire. Then she sorry she whip the chile for sayin' she saw Liza
+Lee. That old lady, Liza Lee, was a tart and she stay a tart for a long
+time.
+
+"I marry 72 year ago in the Catholic Church in St. Martinville. My wife
+call Adeline Chretien and she dead 37 year. We have seven children but
+four live now. Frank my only boy live now, in Iowa, in Louisiana, and my
+two girls live, Enziede De Querive and Rose Baptiste.
+
+
+
+
+420199
+
+
+     JULIA BLANKS was born of a slave mother and a three-quarter Indian
+     father, in San Antonio, in the second year of the Civil War. Her
+     mother, part French and part Negro, was owned by Mrs. John G.
+     Wilcox, formerly a Miss Donaldson, who had lived at the White
+     House, and who gave Julia to her daughter. After the slaves were
+     freed, Julia continued to live with her mother in San Antonio
+     until, at fifteen, she married Henry Hall. Five years later her
+     second marriage took place, at Leon Springs, Texas, where she lived
+     until moving to the Adams ranch, on the Frio River. Here she raised
+     her family. After leaving the Adams ranch, Julia and Henry bought
+     two sections of state land, but after four years they let it go
+     back because of Henry's ill health, and moved to Uvalde.
+
+
+"I was born in San Antonio, in 1862. My mother's name was Rachael
+Miller. I don't know if she was born in Tennessee or Mississippi. I
+heard her talk of both places. I don't know nothing about my father,
+because he run off when I was about three months old. He was
+three-quarter Cherokee Indian. They were lots of Indians then, and my
+husband's people come from Savannah, Georgia, and he said they was lots
+of Indians there. I had two sisters and one brother and the sisters are
+dead but my brother lives somewhere in Arizona. My mother's master's
+name was John C. Wilcox.
+
+"When we was small chillen, they hired my sisters out, but not me. My
+grandfather bought my grandmother's time and they run a laundry house.
+They hired my mother out, too.
+
+"You see, my grandmother was free born, but they stole her and sold her
+to Miss Donaldson. She was half French. She looked jes' like a French
+woman. She wasn't a slave, but she and her brother were stolen and sold.
+She said the stage coach used to pass her aunt's house, and one day she
+and her brother went down to town to buy some buns, and when they were
+comin' back, the stage stopped and asked 'em to ride. She wanted to
+ride, but her brother didn't. But they kep' coaxin' 'em till they got
+'em in. They set her down between the two women that was in there and
+set her brother between two men, and when they got close to the house,
+they threw cloaks over their heads and told the driver to drive as fast
+as he could, and he sure drove. They taken 'em to Washin'ton, to the
+White House, and made her a present to Mary Wilcox (Miss Donaldson) and
+her brother to somebody else. Then this woman married John C. Wilcox and
+they come to Texas.
+
+"She saw a cousin of hers when they got to Washin'ton, and she knew,
+after that, he had somethin' to do with her and her brother bein'
+stolen. One day she found a piece of yellow money and took it to her
+cousin and he told her it wasn't no good and gave her a dime to go get
+her some candy. After that, she saw gold money and knew what it was.
+
+"She said she had a good time, though, when she was growing up. They
+were pretty good to her, but after they came to San Antonio, Mrs. Wilcox
+began bein' mean. She kep' my mother hired out all the time and gave me
+to her daughter and my sister to her son. My mother was kep' hired out
+all the time, cooking; and after freedom, she just took to washin' and
+ironin'. My grandfather bought his time and my grandmother's time out.
+They didn't stay with her.
+
+"I've heard my mother talk about coffee. They roasted beans and made
+coffee. She says, out on the plantation, they would take bran and put it
+in a tub and have 'em stir it up with water in it and let all the white
+go to the bottom and dip it off and strain it and make starch. I have
+made starch out of flour over and often, myself. I had four or five
+little girls; and I had to keep 'em like pins. In them days they wore
+little calico dresses, wide and full and standin' out, and a bonnet to
+match every dress.
+
+"I used to hear my grandmother tell about the good times they used to
+have. They would go from one plantation to another and have quiltin's
+and corn huskin's. And they would dance. They didn't have dances then
+like they do now. The white people would give them things to eat. They
+would have to hoof it five or six miles and didn't mind it.
+
+"They had what they called _patros_, and if you didn't have a pass they
+would whip you and put you in jail. Old Man Burns was hired at the
+courthouse, and if the marsters had slaves that they didn't want to
+whip, they would send them to the courthouse to be whipped. Some of the
+marsters was good and some wasn't. There was a woman, oh, she was the
+meanest thing! I don't know if she had a husband--I never did hear
+anything about him. When she would get mad at one of her slave women,
+she would make the men tie her down, and she had what they called
+cat-o'-nine-tails, and after she got the blood to come, she would dip it
+in salt and pepper and whip her again. Oh, she was mean! My mother's
+marster was good; he wouldn't whip any of his slaves. But his wife
+wasn't good. If she got mad at the women, when he would come home she
+would say: 'John, I want you to whip Liza.' Or Martha. And he would say,
+'Them are your slaves. You whip them.' He was good and she was mean.
+
+"When my aunt would go to clean house, she (Mrs. Wilcox) would turn all
+the pictures in the house but one, the meanest looking one--you know how
+it always looks like a picture is watching you everywhere you go--and
+she would tell her if she touched a thing or left a bit of dirt or if
+she didn't do it good, this picture would tell. And she believed it.
+
+"My grandmother told a tale one time. You know in slave time they had an
+old woman to cook for the chillen. One day they were going to have
+company. This woman that was the boss of the place where the chillen was
+kept told the old cullud woman to take a piece of bacon and grease the
+mouths of all the chillen. Then she told a boy to bring them up to these
+people, and the woman said: 'Oh, you must feed these chillen good, just
+look at their mouths!' And the woman said, 'Oh, that's the way they
+eat.' They didn't get meat often. That was just to make them believe
+they had lots to eat.
+
+"No. They were cut off from education. The way my stepfather got his
+learning was a cullud blacksmith would teach school at night, and us
+chillen taught our mother. She didn't know how to spell or read or
+nothin'. She didn't know B from bull's foot. Some of them were allowed
+to have church and some didn't. Mighty few read the Bible 'cause they
+couldn't read. As my mother used to say, they were raised up as green
+as cucumbers. That old blacksmith was the onlyist man that knew how to
+read and write in slavery time that I knew of. My grandmother or none of
+them knew how to read; they could count, but that was all. That's what
+makes me mad. I tell my grandchillen they ought to learn all they can
+'cause the old people never had a chance. My husband never did have any
+schooling, but he sure could figger. Now, if you want me to get tangled
+up, just give me a pencil and paper and I don't know nothing." She
+tapped her skull. "I figger in my head! The chillen, today, ought to
+appreciate an education.
+
+"Oh, yes, they were good to the slaves when they were sick. They would
+have the doctor come out and wait on them. Most plantations had what
+they called an old granny cullud woman that treated the chillen with
+herbs and such things.
+
+"Games? I don't know. We used to play rap jacket. We would get switches
+and whip one another. You know, after you was hit several times it
+didn't hurt much. I've played a many time. In slave time the men used to
+go huntin' at night, and hunt 'possums and 'coons. They would have a dog
+or two along. They used to go six or seven miles afoot to corn huskin's
+and quiltin's. And those off the other plantations would come over and
+join in the work. And they would nearly always have a good dinner.
+Sometimes some of the owners would give 'em a hog or somethin' nice to
+eat, but some of 'em didn't.
+
+"No'm, I don't know if they run off to the North, but some of them
+runned off and stayed in the swamps, and they was mean. They called them
+runaways. If they saw you, they would tell you to bring them something
+to eat. And if you didn't do it, if they ever got you they sure would
+fix you.
+
+"I don't know when my mother was set free. My husband's marster's name
+was King. He was from Savannah, Georgia, but at the time was living
+close to Boerne. My husband's father was killed in the war. When my
+husband was about ten years old, his marster hadn't told them they was
+free. You know some of them didn't tell the slaves they was free until
+they had to. After freedom was declared, lots of people didn't tell the
+slaves they were free. One morning, my husband said, he happended to
+look out and he saw a big bunch of men coming down the road, and he
+thought he never saw such pretty men in his life on them horses. They
+had so many brass buttons on their clothes it looked like gold. So he
+run and told his mama, and she looked and saw it was soldiers, and some
+of 'em told the boss, and he looked and saw them soldiers comin' in the
+big gate and he called 'em in quick, and told them they were free. So
+when the soldiers come, they asked him if he had told his slaves they
+were free, and he said yes. They asked the Negroes if they lived there,
+and they said yes. One said, 'He just told us we was free.' The soldiers
+asked him why he had just told them, and he said they wasn't all there
+and he was waiting for them all to be there.
+
+"My husband said he thought them was the prettiest bunch of men he ever
+saw, and the prettiest horses. Of course, he hadn't never saw any
+soldiers before. I know it looked pretty to me when I used to see the
+soldiers at the barracks and hear the band playin' and see them drillin'
+and ever'thing. You see, we lived on a little cross-street right back of
+St. Mary's Church in San Antonio, I don't know how that place is now.
+Where the post office is now, there used to be a blacksmith shop and my
+father worked there. I went back to San Antonio about fifteen years ago
+and jes' took it afoot and looked at the changes.
+
+"I was fifteen years old the first time I married. It was almost a
+run-a-way marriage. I was married in San Antonio. My first husband's
+name was Henry Hall. My first wedding dress was as wide as a wagon
+sheet. It was white lawn, full of tucks, and had a big ruffle at the
+bottom. I had a wreath and a veil, too. The veil had lace all around it.
+We danced and had a supper. We danced all the dances they danced then;
+the waltz, square, quadrille, polka, and the gallopade--and that's what
+it was, all right; you shore galloped. You'd start from one end of the
+hall and run clear to the other end. In those days, the women with all
+them long trains--the man would hold it over his arm. No, Lord!
+Honeymoons wasn't thought of then. No'm, I never worked out a day in my
+life." Jokingly, "I guess they thought I was too good looking. I was
+about twenty years old when I married the second time. I was married in
+Leon Springs the second time.
+
+"Before we come out to this country from Leon Springs, they was wild
+grapes, dewberries, plums and agaritas, black haws, red haws. M-m-m!
+Them dewberries, I dearly love 'em! I never did see wild cherries out
+here. I didn't like the cherries much, but they make fine wine. We used
+to gather mustang grapes and make a barrel of wine.
+
+"After I married the second time, we lived on the Adams ranch on the
+Frio and stayed on that ranch fifteen years. We raised all our chillen
+right on that ranch. I am taken for a Mexkin very often. I jes' talk
+Mexkin back to 'em. I learned to talk it on the ranch. As long as I have
+lived at this place, I have never had a cross word about the chillen.
+All my neighbors here is Mexkins. They used to laugh at me when I tried
+to talk to the hands on the ranch, but I learned to talk like 'em.
+
+"We used to have big round-ups out on the Adams ranch. They had fences
+then. The neighbors would all come over and get out and gather the
+cattle and bring 'em in. Up at Leon Springs at that time they didn't
+have any fences, and they would have big round-ups there. But after we
+come out here, it was different. He would notify his neighbors they were
+goin' to gather cattle on a certain day. The chuck wagon was right there
+at the ranch, that is, _I_ was the chuck wagon. But if they were goin' to
+take the cattle off, they would have a chuck wagon. They would round up
+a pasture at a time and come in to the ranch for their meals. Now on the
+Wallace ranch, they would always take a chuck wagon. When they were
+gettin' ready to start brandin' at the ranch, my husband always kep' his
+brandin' irons all in the house, hangin' up right where he could get his
+hands on 'em. Whenever they would go off to other ranches to gather
+cattle, you would see ever' man with his beddin' tied up behind him on
+his horse. He'd have jes' a small roll. They would always have a slicker
+if nothin' else. That slicker answered for ever'thing sometimes. My
+husband slep' many a night with his saddle under his head.
+
+"He used to carry mail from San Antonio to Dog Town, horseback. That was
+the town they used to call Lodi (Lodo), but I don't know how to spell
+it, and don't know what it means. It was a pretty tough town. The jail
+house was made out of 'dobe and pickets. They had a big picket fence all
+around it. They had a ferry that went right across the San Antonio River
+from Floresville to Dog Town. I know he told me he come to a place and
+they had a big sign that said, 'Nigga, don't let the sun go down on you
+here.' They was awful bad down in there. He would leave Dog Town in the
+evenin' and he would get to a certain place up toward San Antonio to
+camp, and once he stopped before he got to the place he always camped
+at. He said he didn't know what made 'im stop there that time, but he
+stopped and took the saddle off his horse and let 'im graze while he lay
+down. After a while, he saw two cigarette fires in the dark right up the
+road a little piece, and he heard a Mexkin say, 'I don't see why he's so
+late tonight. He always gets here before night and camps right there.'
+He knew they was waylayin' 'im, so he picked his saddle up right easy
+and carried it fu'ther back down the road in the brush and then come got
+his horse and took him out there and saddled 'im up and went away 'round
+them Mexkins. He went on in to San Antonio and didn't go back any more.
+A white man took the mail to carry then and the first trip he made, he
+never come back. He went down with the mail and they found the mail
+scattered somewhere on the road, but they never found the man, or the
+horse, either.
+
+"On the Adams ranch, in the early days, we used to have to pack water up
+the bank. You might not believe it, but one of these sixty-pound lard
+cans full of water, I've a-carried it on my head many a time. We had
+steps cut into the bank, and it was a good ways down to the water, and
+I'd pack that can up to the first level and go back and get a couple a
+buckets of water, and carry a bucket in each hand and the can on my head
+up the next little slantin' hill before I got to level ground. I carried
+water that way till my chillen got big enough to carry water, then they
+took it up. When I was carryin' water in them big cans my head would
+sound like new leather--you know how it squeaks, and that was the way it
+sounded in my head. But, it never did hurt me. You see, the Mexkins
+carry loads on their heads, but they fix a rag around their heads some
+way to help balance it. But I never did. I jes' set it up on my head and
+carried it that way. Oh, we used to carry water! My goodness! My mother
+said it was the Indian in me--the way I could carry water.
+
+"When we were first married and moved to the Adams ranch, we used to
+come here to Uvalde to dances. They had square dances then. They hadn't
+commenced all these frolicky dances they have now. They would have a
+supper, but they had it to sell. Every fellow would have to treat his
+girl he danced with.
+
+"I can remember when my grandfather lived in a house with a dirt floor,
+and they had a fireplace. And I can remember just as well how he used to
+bake hoecakes for us kids. He would rake back the coals and ashes real
+smooth and put a wet paper down on that and then lay his hoecake down on
+the paper and put another paper on top of that and the ashes on top. I
+used to think that was the best bread I ever ate. I tried it a few
+times, but I made such a mess I didn't try it any more. One thing I have
+seen 'em make, especially on the ranch. You take and clean a stick and
+you put on a piece of meat and piece of fat till you take and use up the
+heart and liver and sweetbread and other meat and put it on the stick
+and wrap it around with leaf fat and then put the milk gut, or marrow
+gut, around the whole thing. They call that _macho_ (mule), and I tell
+you, it's good. They make it out of a goat and sheep, mostly.
+
+"Another thing, we used to have big round-ups, and I have cooked great
+pans of steak and mountain orshters. Generally, at the brandin' and
+markin', I cooked up many a big pan of mountain orshters. I wish I had a
+nickel for ever' one I've cooked, and ate too! People from up North have
+come down there, and, when they were brandin' and cuttin' calves there,
+they sure did eat and enjoy that dinner.
+
+"The men used to go up to the lake, fishin', and catch big trout, or
+bass, they call 'em now; and we'd take big buckets of butter--we didn't
+take a saucer of butter or a pound; we taken butter up there in buckets,
+for we sure had plenty of it--and we'd take lard too, and cook our fish
+up there, and had corn bread or hoe cakes and plenty of butter for
+ever'thing, and it sure was good. I tell you--like my husband used to
+say--we was livin' ten days in the week, then.
+
+"When we killed hogs, the meat from last winter was hung outside and
+then new meat, salted down and then smoked, put in there, and we would
+cook the old bacon for the dogs. We always kep' some good dogs there,
+and anybody'll tell you they was always fat. We had lots of wild turkeys
+and I raised turkeys, too, till I got sick of cookin' turkeys. Don't
+talk about deer! You know, it wasn't then like it is now. You could go
+kill venison any time you wanted to. But I don't blame 'em for passin'
+that law, for people used to go kill 'em and jes' take out the hams and
+tenderloin and leave the other layin' there. I have saved many a sack of
+dried meat to keep it from spoilin'.
+
+"We would raise watermelons, too. We had a big field three mile from the
+house and a ninety-acre field right in the house. We used to go get
+loads of melons for the hogs and they got to where they didn't eat
+anything but the heart.
+
+"I used to leave my babies at the house with the older girl and go out
+horseback with my husband. My oldest girl used to take the place of a
+cowboy, and put her hair up in her hat. And ride! My goodness, she loved
+to ride! They thought she was a boy. She wore pants and leggin's. And
+maybe you think she couldn't ride!
+
+"After we left that ranch, we took up some state land. I couldn't tell
+you how big that place was. We had 640 in one place and 640 in another
+place; it was a good big place. After my husband got sick, we had to let
+it go back. We couldn't pay it out. We only lived on it about four
+years.
+
+"My husband has been dead about nineteen years. I had a pen full and a
+half of chillen. I have four livin' chillen, two girls and two boys. I
+have a girl, Carrie, in California, workin' in the fruit all the time;
+one boy, George, in Arizona, workin' in the mines; and a girl in
+Arizona, Lavinia, washes and irons and cooks and ever'thing else she can
+get at. And I have one boy here. I have ten grandchillen and I've got
+five great grandchillen.
+
+"I belong to the Methodist Church. I joined about twenty-five years ago.
+My husband joined with me. But here, of late years, when I go to church,
+it makes me mad to see how the people do the preacher up there trying to
+do all the good he can do and them settin' back there laughin' and
+talkin'. I was baptized. There was about five or six of us baptized in
+the Leona down here.
+
+"People tell that I've got plenty and don't need help. Even the Mexkins
+here and ever'body say I've got money. Jes' because we had that farm
+down there they think I come out with money. But what in the world would
+I want with money if I didn't use it? I can't take it with me when I die
+and I could be gettin' the use of it now while I need it. I could have
+what I want to eat, anyway. I'm gettin' a little pension, but it ain't
+near enough to keep us. I've got these two grandchillen here, and things
+is so high, too, so I don't have enough of anything without skimpin' all
+the time.
+
+
+
+
+420312
+
+
+     ELVIRA BOLES, 94, has outlived nine of her ten children. She lives
+     at 3109 Manzana St., El Paso, Texas, with her daughter, Minnie. She
+     was born a slave of the Levi Ray family near Lexington,
+     Mississippi, and was sold as a child to Elihn Boles, a neighboring
+     plantation owner. During the last year of the Civil War she was
+     brought to Texas, with other refugee slaves.
+
+
+"I jus' 'member my first marster and missus, 'cause she don' want me
+there. I'se a child of the marster. Dey didn' tell me how old I was when
+dey sold me to Boles. My missus sold me to Boles. Dey tuk us to where
+dere was a heap of white folks down by the court house and we'd be there
+in lots and den de whites 'ud bid for us. I don' know how old I was, but
+I washed dishes and den dey put me to work in de fields. We don' git a
+nickel in slavery.
+
+"Marster Boles didn' have many slaves on de farm, but lots in brickyard.
+I toted brick back and put 'em down where dey had to be. Six bricks each
+load all day. That's de reason I ain't no 'count, I'se worked to death.
+I fired de furnace for three years. Stan'in' front wid hot fire on my
+face. Hard work, but God was wid me. We'd work 'till dark, quit awhile
+after sundown. Marster was good to slaves, didn' believe in jus' lashin'
+'em. He'd not be brutal but he'd kill 'em dead right on the spot.
+Overseers 'ud git after 'em and whop 'em down.
+
+"I'se seventeen, maybe, when I married to slave of Boles. Married on
+Saturday night. Dey give me a dress and dey had things to eat, let me
+have something like what you call a party. We just had common clothes
+on. And then I had to work every day. I'd leave my baby cryin' in de
+yard and he'd be cryin', but I couldn' stay. Done everything but split
+rails. I've cut timber and ploughed. Done everything a man could do. I
+couldn' notice de time, but I'd be glad to git back to my baby.
+
+"Log cabins had dirt floor, sometimes plankin' down. I worked late and
+made pretty quilts. Sometimes dey'd let us have a party. Saturday
+nights, de white people give us meat and stuff. Give us syrup and we'd
+make candy, out in de yard. We'd ask our frien's and dance all night.
+Den go to work next day. We'd clean off de yard and dance out dere.
+Christmas come, dey give us a big eggnog and give us cake. Our white
+folks did. White folks chillen had bought candy. We didn' git any, but
+dey let us play wid de white chillen. We'd play smut. Whoever beat wid
+de cards, he'd git to smut you. Take de smut from fireplace and rub on
+your face.
+
+"Doctor take care of us iffen we sick, so's git us well to git us to
+work.
+
+"Iffen dey had a pretty girl dey would take 'em, and I'se one of 'em,
+and my oldest child, he boy by Boles, almost white.
+
+"We had to steal away at night to have church on de ditch bank, and
+crawl home on de belly. Once overseers heered us prayin', give us one
+day each 100 lashes.
+
+"Den when de Yankees come through, dey 'ud be good to de slaves, to keep
+'em from tellin' on 'em. Freedom was give Jan. 1, 1865, but de slaves
+didn' know it 'till June 19. We'se refugees. Boles, our marster, sent us
+out and we come from Holmes County to Cherokee County in a wagon. We was
+a dodgin' in and out, runnin' from de Yankees. Marster said dey was
+runnin' us from de Yankees to keep us, but we was free and didn' know
+it. I lost my baby, its buried somewhere on dat road. Died at Red River
+and we left it. De white folks go out and buy food 'long de road and
+hide us. Dey say we'd never be free iffen dey could git to Texas wid us,
+but de people in Texas tol' us we's free. Den marster turn us loose in
+de world, without a penny. Oh, dey was awful times. We jus' worked from
+place to place after freedom.
+
+"When we started from Mississippi, dey tol' us de Yankees 'ud kill us
+iffen dey foun' us, and dey say, 'You ain't got no time to take nothin'
+to whar you goin'. Take your little bundle and leave all you has in your
+house.' So when we got to Texas I jus' had one dress, what I had on.
+Dat's de way all de cullud people was after freedom, never had nothin'
+but what had on de back. Some of dem had right smart in dere cabins, but
+they was skeered and dey lef' everything. Bed clothes and all you had
+was lef'. We didn' know any better den."
+
+
+
+
+420102
+
+
+[Illustration: Betty Bormer (Bonner)]
+
+
+     BETTY BORMER, 80, was born a slave to Col. M.T. Johnson, who farmed
+     at Johnson Station in Tarrant County. He owned Betty's parents,
+     five sisters and four brothers, in addition to about 75 other
+     slaves. After the family was freed, they moved with the other
+     slaves to a piece of land Col. Johnson allowed them the use of
+     until his death. Betty lives in a negro settlement at Stop Six, a
+     suburb of Fort Worth.
+
+
+"I'se bo'n April 4th, in 1857, at Johnson Station. It was named after my
+marster. He had a big farm, I'se don' know how many acres. He had seven
+chillen; three boys, Ben, Tom and Mart, and four girls, Elizabeth,
+Sally, Roddy and Veanna.
+
+"Marster Johnson was good to us cullud folks and he feeds us good. He
+kep' lots of hawgs, dat makes de meat. In de smokehouse am hung up meat
+enough for to feed de army, it looks like. We'uns have all de clothes we
+need and dey was made on de place. My mammy am de sewing woman and my
+pappy am de shoemaker. My work, for to nuss de small chillen of de
+marster.
+
+"On Sat'day we's let off work and lots de time some of us come to Fort
+Worth wid de marster and he gives us a nickel or a dime for to buy
+candy.
+
+"Dey whips de niggers sometimes, but 'twarn't hard. You know, de nigger
+gits de devilment in de head, like folks do, sometimes, and de marster
+have to larn 'em better. He done dat hisself and he have no overseer. No
+nigger tried run away, 'cause each family have a cabin wid bunks for to
+sleep on and we'uns all live in de quarters. Sich nigger as wants to
+larn read and write, de marster's girls and boys larns 'em. De girls
+larned my auntie how to play de piano.
+
+"Dere am lots of music on dat place; fiddle, banjo and de piano.
+Singin', we had lots of dat, songs like Ole Black Joe and 'ligious songs
+and sich. Often de marster have we'uns come in his house and clears de
+dinin' room for de dance. Dat am big time, on special occasion. Dey not
+calls it 'dance' dem days, dey calls it de 'ball.'
+
+"Sho', we'uns goes to church and de preacher's name, it was Jack Ditto.
+
+"Durin' de war, I notices de vittles am 'bout de same. De soldiers come
+dere and dey driv' off over de hill some of de cattle for to kill for to
+eat. Once dey took some hosses and I hears marster say dem was de
+Quantrell mens. Dey comes several times and de marster don' like it, but
+he cain't help it.
+
+"When freedom come marster tells all us to come to front of de house. He
+am standin' on de porch. Him 'splains 'bout freedom and says, 'You is
+now free and can go whar you pleases.' Den he tells us he have larned us
+not to steal and to be good and we'uns should 'member dat and if we'uns
+gets in trouble to come to him and he will help us. He sho' do dat, too,
+'cause de niggers goes to him lots of times and he always helps.
+
+"Marster says dat he needs help on de place and sich dat stays, he'd pay
+'em for de work. Lots of dem stayed, but some left. To dem dat leaves,
+marster gives a mule, or cow and sich for de start. To my folks, marster
+gives some land. He doesn't give us de deed, but de right to stay till
+he dies.
+
+"Sho', I seen de Klux after de war but I has no 'sperience wid 'em. My
+uncle, he gits whipped by 'em, what for I don' know 'zactly, but I think
+it was 'bout a hoss. Marster sho' rave 'bout dat, 'cause my uncle
+weren't to blame.
+
+"When de Klux come de no 'count nigger sho make de scatterment. Some
+climb up de chimney or jump out de winder and hide in de dugout and
+sich.
+
+"De marster dies 'bout seven years after freedom and everybody sorry
+den. I never seen such a fun'ral and lots of big men from Austin comes.
+He was de blessed man!
+
+"I married de second year after de T.P. railroad come to Fort Worth, to
+Sam Jones and he work on de Burk Burnett stock ranch. I'se divorseted
+from him after five years and den after 12 more years I marries Rubbin
+Felps. My las' husban's named Joe Borner, but I'se never married to the
+father of my only chile. His name am George Pace.
+
+"I allus gits long fair, 'cause after freedom I keeps on workin' doin'
+de nussin'. Now I'se gittin' 'leven dollars from de state for pension,
+and gits it every month so now I'se sho' of somethin' to eat and dat
+makes me happy.
+
+
+
+
+420289
+
+
+     HARRISON BOYD, 87, was born in Rusk County, Texas, a slave of Wash
+     Trammel. Boyd remained with his master for four years after
+     emancipation, then moved to Harrison County, where he now lives.
+     His memory is poor, but he managed to recall a few incidents.
+
+
+"I was fifteen years when they says we're free. That's the age my Old
+Missy done give me when the war stopped. She had all us niggers' ages in
+a book, and told me I was born near Henderson. My Old Marse was Wash
+Trammel and he brunged me and my mama and papa from Alabama. Mama was
+named Juliet and papa, Amos. Marse Trammel owned my grandpa and grandma,
+too, and they was named Jeanette and Josh.
+
+"The plantation was two made into one, and plenty big, and more'n a
+hundred slaves to work it. Marse lived in a hewed log house,
+weather-boarded out and in, and the quarters was good, log houses with
+bed railin's hewed out of logs. We raised everything we et, 'cept sugar,
+and Marse bought that in big hogsheads. We got our week's rations every
+Sunday, and when we went to eat, everybody's part was put out to them on
+a tin plate.
+
+"Marse Trammel give a big cornshucking every fall. He had two bottom
+fields in corn. First we'd gather peas and cushaws and pumpkins out the
+corn field, then get the corn and pile it front the cribs. They was two
+big cribs for the corn we kep' to use and five big cribs for sale corn.
+My uncle stayed round the sale corn cribs all spring, till ginnin' time,
+'cause folks come for miles after corn. Marse had five wheat cribs and
+one rye crib. We went ten mile to Tatum to git our meal and flour
+ground.
+
+"The patterrollers darsn't come 'bout our place or bother us niggers.
+Marse Wash allus say, 'I'll patterroller my own place.' Marse was good
+to us and only once a overseer beat a woman up a trifle, and Marse
+Trammel fired him that same day.
+
+"The sojers 'fiscated lots of corn from Marse and some more owners in
+Rusk County piled corn up in a big heap and made me go mind it till the
+rest the sojers got there. I was settin' top that corn pile, me and my
+big bulldog, and the General rode up. My dog growled and I made him
+hush. The General man say to me, 'Boy, you is 'scused now, go on home.'
+I got to a fence and looked back, and that General was hewin' him a hoss
+trough out a log. The sojers come in droves and set up they camp. I sot
+on a stump and watched them pass. They stayed three, four days till the
+corn was all fed up.
+
+"While they's camped there they'd cotch chickens. They had a fishin'
+pole and line and hook. They'd put a grain of corn on the hook and ride
+on they hoss and pitch the hook out 'mong the chickens. When a chicken
+swallowed the corn they'd jerk up the line with that chicken and ride
+off.
+
+"Marse had six hundred bales cotton in the Shreveport warehouse when war
+was over. He got word them Yankees done take it on a boat. He got his
+brother to take him to Shreveport and say, 'I'll follow that cotton to
+Hell and back.' He followed his cotton to Alabama and got it back, but
+he died and was buried there in Alabama 'fore Old Missy knowed it.
+
+"I stayed with her four years after surrender and then went to farmin'
+with my folks, for $10.00 a month. After a year or two I went to
+railroadin', helping cut the right-of-way for the T.& P. Railroad, from
+Marshall to Longview. They paid us $1.50 the day and three drinks of
+whiskey a day.
+
+"I marries four times but had only one child, but I never done nothin'
+'citin'. I lives by myself now, and gits $11.00 pension to eat on.
+
+
+
+
+420074
+
+
+[Illustration: Issabella Boyd]
+
+
+     ISSABELLA BOYD was born a slave of Gus Wood, in Richmond, Va., who
+     moved to Texas by boat before the Civil War. Isabella still lives
+     in Beaumont.
+
+
+"Lemme see, I come from Richmond, Virginy, to Texas. Massa Gus Wood was
+my owner and I kin recollect my white folks. I's born in dat country and
+dey brought me over to Richmond and my papa and mama, too. I was jus'
+'bout big 'nough to begin to 'member.
+
+"I come from Richmond yere on de boat, sometime de steamboat, sometime
+de big boat. When we left New Orleans dat evenin' we struck a big storm.
+Us git on dat boat in Richmond and went floatin' down to de big boat dat
+mornin'. Looks like it jus' fun for us, but every time we look back and
+think 'bout home it make us sad.
+
+"I had a dear, good mistus and my boss man, he furnish a house for he
+servants, a purty good house. And dey had a place for de Sunday School.
+Dem was good times. De mistus cook dinner and send it down for de old
+folks and chillen to have plenty.
+
+"My mistus kep' me right in de house, right by her, sewing. I could sew
+so fast I git my task over 'fore de others git started good.
+
+"Lots of times when de gals wants to go to de dance I he'p make de
+dresses. I 'member de pretties' one like yesterday. It have tucks from
+de waist to de hem and had diamonds cut all in de skirt.
+
+"Our boss man was 'ticular 'bout us being tended to and we was well took
+care of. He brung us to Beaumont when it was de plumb mud hole, and he
+settle down and try to build up and make it a go.
+
+"Massa Wood he allus takes de paper and one night they set up da long
+time and do dey readin'. Next mornin' de old cook woman, she say, 'Well,
+dey have de big war, and lots of dem wounded.' Befo' long us has to take
+care of some dem wounded soldiers, and dey has de camp place near us.
+Dey all camp 'round dere and I don't know which was de Yankees and de
+'federates.
+
+"When we all gits free, dey's de long time lettin' us know. Dey wants to
+git through with de corn and de cotton befo' dey let's de hands loose.
+Dey was people from other plantations say. 'Niggers, you's free and yere
+you workin'.' Us say, 'No, de gov'ment tell us when we's free.' We
+workin' one day when somebody from Massa Grissom place come by and tell
+us we's free, and us stop workin'. Dey tell us to go on workin' and de
+boss man he come up and he say he gwine knock us off de fence if we
+don't go to work. Mistus come out and say, 'Ain't you gwine make dem
+niggers go to work?' He send her back in de house and he call for de
+carriage and say he goin' to town for to see what de gov'ment goin' do.
+Nex' day he come back and say, 'Well, you's jus' as free as I is.'
+
+"He say to me I could stay and cook for dem, and he give me five dollar
+a month and a house to stay in and all I kin eat. I stays de month to do
+dere work.
+
+"After dat I wishes sometimes dat old times is back 'gain. I likes to be
+free, but I wasn't used to it and it was hard to know how to do. I
+'members de dances we has in de old times, when we makes de music with
+banjo and other things. Some de good massas 'lowed de niggers dance in
+de back yard and if we goes over dere without de pass de patterroles
+gits us maybe. One time my papa he runnin' from dem patterroles and he
+run slap into de young massa and he say, 'Oh, you ain't no nigger, I kin
+tell by de smell.'
+
+"Dat mind me of de ghost story dey used to tell 'bout de ghosties what
+live in de big bridge down in de hollow. De niggers day say dat ghostie
+make too much noise, with all he hollerin' and he rattlin' dem chain. So
+dat night one us niggers what dey call Charlie, he say he ain't 'fraid
+and he gwineter git him a ghostie, sho' 'nough. Us didn't believe him
+but purty soon us hears right smart wrastlin' with de chains and
+hollerin' down by de bridge and after 'while he come and say he git de
+best of dat ghostie, 'cause he ain't got strength like de man.
+
+"Me and my old man us have twelve chillens altogedder. My husban' he
+come from South Car'lina whar dey eats cottonseed. I used to joke him
+'bout it. I allus say Virginny de best, 'cause I come from dere.
+
+
+
+
+420039
+
+
+[Illustration: James Boyd]
+
+
+     JAMES BOYD was born in Phantom Valley, Indian Territory, in an
+     Indian hut. A man named Sanford Wooldrige stole him and brought him
+     to Texas, somewhere near Waco. James does not know his age, but
+     thinks he is a hundred years or more old. He now lives in Itasca,
+     Texas.
+
+
+"I's born in dat Phantom Valley, in de Indian Territory, what am now
+call Oklahoma. Us live in a Indian hut. My pappy Blue Bull Bird and
+mammy Nancy Will. She come to de Indian Territory with Santa Anna, from
+Mississippi, and pappy raise in de Territory. I don' 'member much 'bout
+my folks, 'cause I stole from dem when I a real li'l feller. I's
+a-fishin' in de Cherokee River and a man name Sanford Wooldrige come by.
+You see, de white folks and de Indians have de fight 'bout dat day. I's
+on de river and I heared yellin' and shootin' and folkses runnin' and I
+slips into some bresh right near. Den come de white man and he say,
+'Everybody kilt, nigger, and dem Indians gwine kill you iffen day cotch
+you. Come with me and I ain't 'low dem hurt you.' So I goes with him.
+
+"He brung me to Texas, but I don't know jus' where, 'cause I didn't know
+nothin' 'bout dat place. Massa Sanford good to us, but look out for he
+missus, she sho' tough on niggers. Dere 'bout 1,600 acres in de
+plantation and de big house am nice. When de niggers wouldn't work dey
+whup 'em. Us work all week and sometime Sunday, iffen de crops in a
+rush. Massa not much on presents or money but us have warm clothes and
+plenty to eat and de dry place to live, and dat more'n lots of niggers
+has now.
+
+"Sometime us have de corn huskin' and dere a dollar for de one what
+shuck de mos' corn. Us have de big dance 'bout twict a year, on
+Christmas and sometime in de summer. When de white folks have dere big
+balls us niggers cook and watch dem dance. Us have fun den.
+
+"I likes to think of dem times when us fish all de hot day or hunts or
+jus' lazed 'round when de crops am laid by. I likes to shet de eyes and
+be back in old times and hear 'em sing, "Swing, low, Sweet Chariot." I
+can't sing, now you knows can't no old man sing what ain't got no teef
+or hair. I used to like to swing dat 'Ginia Reel and I's spry and young
+den.
+
+"Dere's lots I can't 'member, 'cause my mem'ry done gone weak like de
+res' of me, but I 'member when us free us throw de hats in de air and
+holler. Old massa say, 'How you gwine eat and git clothes and sech?' Den
+us sho' scairt and stays with us white folks long as us can. But 'bout a
+year after dat I gits de job punchin' cattle on a ranch in South Texas.
+I druv cattle into Kansas, over what de white folks calls de Chissum
+Trail. I worked lots of cattle and is what dey call a top hand. I's
+workin' for Massa Boyd den, and he gits me to drive some cattle to
+Mexico. He say he ain't well no more and for me to sell de cattle and
+send him de money and git de job down dere. I goes on down to Mexico and
+do what he say. I marries a gal name Martina in 1869, down in Matamoras.
+Us have four chillen and she die. Dat break me up and I drifts back to
+Huntsville.
+
+"I done change my name from Scott Bird, what it am up in de Territory,
+and make it James Boyd, 'cause I done work for Massa Boyd. I's gwine be
+'bout 108 year old in next January, iffen de Lawd spare me dat long.
+
+"After I been in Huntsville awhile, I marries Emma Smith but us only
+stay together 'bout a year and a half. Wasn't no chillen. Den I drifts
+to Fort Bend County and dere I marries Mary McDowd and us have two
+chillen. She die with de yellow fever and off I goes for Burleson
+County. Dere I marries Sally McDave and she quits me after us have three
+chillen. Down in old Washington County I marries Frances Williams and us
+lived together till 1900. Dere am no chillen dere. Den I goes to Austin
+after she die and marries Eliza Bunton in 1903. Us have eight chillen
+and she die in 1911. Den I comes to Hill County and marries Mittie Cahee
+in 1916. She quit me. In 1924 I marries Hegar Price clost to Milford. Us
+live together now, in Itasca. Us didn't have no chillen, but dat don't
+matter, 'cause I's de daddy of 'bout twenty already.
+
+"I mos' allus wore de black suit when I marries. Jes' seemed more
+dressed up like. Some my wives wear white and some colors, didn't make
+much diff'rence, so dey a likely lookin' gal for me. Sometime it am a
+preacher and sometime it am Jestice of Peace, but de fust time it am
+Catholic and priest and all.
+
+"Talkin' 'bout all dis marryin', I mos' forgit to show you my scar. I
+fit in dat freedom war 'long side Massa Sanford and got shot. Dat bullet
+go through de breast and out de back and keep me six months in de bed.
+De fust battle I's in am at Halifax, in North Car'lina. Us git de news
+of freedom when us at Vicksburg, in Mississippi. Mos' us niggers 'fraid
+say much. De new niggers 'spect de gov'ment give dem de span of mules
+and dey be rich and not work. But dey done larn a lot dese past years.
+Us am sho' slaves now to hard work, and lucky iffen us git work. Lots
+dem niggers figgers dey'd git dere massa's land, but dey didn't. Dey
+oughta of knowed dey wouldn't. Warn't no plantation ever divided I
+knowed of, but some de massas give de oldest slaves a li'l piece land.
+
+"After de cattle days done gone, I farms in Hill County. I works twelve
+year for Massa Claude Wakefield, right near Milford, too. De old man
+ain't due to live nowhere long and I's gittin' 'bout ready to cross de
+river. I's seed a heap of dis here earth and de people in it, but I
+tells you it am sho' hard time now. Us is old and cripple' and iffen de
+white folks don't holp us I don't know what us gwine do.
+
+"Some dese young niggers gone plumb wild with dere cigars and cars and
+truckin' and jazzin' and sech. Some go to school and larn like white
+folks and teach and be real helpful. But talk 'bout workin' in slave
+time--'twarn't so hard as now. Den you fuss 'cause dere's work, now you
+fuss 'cause dere ain't no work. But den us have somethin' to eat and
+wear and a place to sleep, and now us don't know one day what gwine fill
+us tomorrow, or nothin'.
+
+"I'd sho' like to shake Massa Boyd's hand again and hear him come
+singin' down de lane. Us hear him sing or whistle long 'fore he git dere
+and it mighty good to see him. De slaves allus say, 'I's gwine 'way
+tomorrow,' and I guess I's gwine 'way pretty soon tomorrow.
+
+
+
+
+420195
+
+
+     JERRY BOYKINS, spry and jolly at the age of 92, lived with his aged
+     wife in their own cabin at 1015 Plum St., Abilene, Texas. He was
+     born a slave to John Thomas Boykin, Troupe Co., Georgia, 80 miles
+     from Lagrange, Ga. His master was a very wealthy plantation owner,
+     working 1,000 slaves.
+
+
+"I been well taken care of durin' my life. When I was young I lived
+right in de big house with my marster. I was houseboy. My mother's name
+was Betsy Ann Boykin and she was cook for Old Missus. My grandpa was
+blacksmith. I slept on a pallet in de kitchen and in winter time on cold
+nights I 'members how cold I would get. I'd wake up and slip in by
+marsters bed and den I'd say, 'Marster John, I's about to freeze.' He'd
+say, 'You ought to freeze, you little black devil. What you standin'
+dere for?' I'd say, 'Please, marster John, jes' let me crawl in by your
+feet.' He'd say, 'Well, I will dis one time,' and dat's de way I'd do
+every cold night.
+
+"I was full of mischief and I'd tu'n de mules out of de lot, jus' to see
+de stableboy git a lickin'. One time I wanted a fiddle a white man named
+Cocoanut Harper kep' tryin' to sell me for $7.50. I didn' never have any
+money, 'cept a little the missie give me, so I kep' teasin' her to buy
+de fiddle for me. She was allus on my side, so she tol' me to take some
+co'n from de crib and trade in for de fiddle. In de night I slips out
+and hitch up de mules and fetched de co'n to old Harper's house and
+traded for dat fiddle. Den I hides out and play it, so's marster wouldn'
+fin' out, but he did and he whip all de daylight outta me. When de
+missie try to whip me, I jes' wrop up in her big skirts and she never
+could hurt me much.
+
+"I allus ate my meals in de house at de white folks table, after dey
+done et. Iffen I couldn' sit in de marster's chair, I'd swell up like a
+toad.
+
+"De marster done all de whippin', 'cause dey had been two overseers
+killed on de plantation for whippin' slaves till de blood run out dey
+body.
+
+"Was I bovered with haints and spooks? I been meetin' up with 'em all my
+life. When I was younger I was such an old scratch I'd meet 'em right in
+de road, some without heads. I'd take to my heels and then I'd stop and
+look 'round and they'd be gone.
+
+"I wore home-weaved shirts till I was grown, then I had some pants and
+dey was homemade, too. The women gathered womack leaves to dye de goods
+black.
+
+"I well rec'lects when my marster went to war. He called all us in de
+kitchen and telled us he had to go over dere and whip those
+sons-of-bitches and would be back 'fore breakfast. He didn' return for
+two years. I says, 'Marster, we sho' would have waited breakfast on you
+a long time.' He said, 'Yes; deys de hardes' sons-of-bitches to whip I
+ever had dealins' with.'
+
+"When war was over, he called us together and tol' us we were free. He
+said, 'Now, I'm goin' to give you a big day and after that you can stay
+and work for pay or you can go.' So he rolled out two barrels of whiskey
+and killed hogs and spread a big day.
+
+"I wants to tell you 'bout how we killed hogs in my day. We digged a
+deep pit in de groun' and heated big rocks red hot and filled up de pit
+with water and dropped dem hot rocks in and got de water hot; den we
+stuck de hogs and rolled 'em in dat pit.
+
+"Soon after I's free a man come for me from Louisville to hire me as
+foreman in his cotton mule barn. So I went there and I worked in
+Kentucky for 18 year. Fifty-one years ago I married my ol' woman, Rachel
+Taylor, at Corsicana, Texas, and I think she's jes' as fine as the day I
+married her. We has six chillen and all works hard for a livin' and we
+got one lil' grandbaby 10 years ol'. She lives here at our house and
+we're educatin' her.
+
+"I knows I's goin' to live to be over 100 years ol', 'cause my marster
+done tol' me so."
+
+
+
+
+420073
+
+
+[Illustration: Monroe Brackins]
+
+
+     MONROE BRACKINS, born in Monroe Co., Mississippi, in 1853, was the
+     property of George Reedes. He was brought to Medina County, Texas,
+     when two years old. Monroe learned to snare and break mustangs and
+     became a cowpuncher. He lives in Hondo, Texas. He has an air of
+     pride and self-respect, and explained that he used little dialect
+     because he learned to talk from the "white folks" as he was growing
+     up.
+
+
+"I was bo'n in Mississippi, Monroe County. I'm 84 years old. My master,
+George Reedes, brought me, my father and mother and my two sisters to
+Texas when I was two years old. My father was Nelson Brackins and my
+mother was Rosanna.
+
+"My master settled here at a place called Malone, on the Hondo River. He
+went into the stock business. Our house there was a little, old picket
+house with a grass roof over it out of the sage grass. The bed was made
+with a tick of shucks and the children slept on the floor. The boss had
+just a little lumber house. Later on he taken us about 20 miles fu'ther
+down on the Hondo, the Old Adams Ranch, and he had a rock house.
+
+"I was about six years old then. I had some shoes, to keep the thorns
+outa my feet, and I had rawhide leggin's. We just had such clothes as we
+could get, old patched-up clothes. They just had that jeans cloth,
+homemade clothes.
+
+"I was with George Reedes 10 or 12 years. It was my first trainin'
+learnin' the stock business and horse breakin.' He was tol'able good to
+us, to be slaves as we was. His brother had a hired man that whipped me
+once, with a quirt. I've heard my father and mother tell how they
+whipped 'em. They'd tie 'em down on a log or up to a post and whip 'em
+till the blisters rose, then take a paddle and open 'em up and pour salt
+in 'em. Yes'm, they whipped the women. The most I remember about that,
+my father and sister was in the barn shuckin' co'n and the master come
+in there and whipped my sister with a cowhide whip. My father caught a
+lick in the face and he told the master to keep his whip offen him. So
+the master started on my father and he run away. When he finally come in
+he was so wild his master had to call him to get orders for work, and
+finally the boss shot at him, but they didn't whip him any more. Of
+course, some of 'em whipped with more mercy. They had a whippin' post
+and when they strapped 'em down on a log they called it a 'stroppin'
+log.'
+
+"I remember they tasked the cotton pickers in Mississippi. They had to
+bring in so many pounds in the evenin' and if they didn't they got a
+whippin' for it. My sister there, she had to bring in 900 pounds a day.
+Well, cotton was heavier there. Most any of 'em could pick 900 pounds.
+It was heavier and fluffier. We left the cotton country in Mississippi,
+but nobody knew anything about cotton out here that I knew of.
+
+"I've heard my parents say too, them men that had plantations and a
+great lot of slaves, they would speculate with 'em and would have a
+chain that run from the front ones to the back ones. Sometimes they
+would have 15 or 20 miles to make to get them to the sale place, but
+they couldn't make a break. Where they expected to make a sale, they
+kept 'em in corrals and they had a block there to put 'em up on and bid
+'em off. The average price was about $500, but some that had good
+practice, like a blacksmith, brought a good price, as high as $1,500.
+
+"I heard my mother and father say they would go 15 or 20 miles to a
+dance, walkin', and get back before daylight, before the 'padderollers'
+got 'em. The slaves would go off when they had no permission and them
+that would ketch 'em and whip 'em was the 'padderollers.' Sometimes they
+would have an awful race.
+
+"If they happened to be a slave on the plantation that could jes' read a
+little print, they would get rid of him right now. He would ruin the
+niggers, they would get too smart. The' was no such thing as school here
+for culluds in early days. The white folks we was raised up with had
+pretty good education. That's why I don't talk like most cullud folks. I
+was about grown and the' was an English family settled close, about half
+a mile, I guess. They had a little boy, his name was Arthur Ederle, and
+he come over and learned me how to spell 'cat' and 'dog' and 'hen' and
+such like. I was right around about 20 years old. I couldn't sign my
+name when I was 18 years old.
+
+"I can remember one time when I was young, I saw something I couldn't
+'magine what it was, like a billygoat reared up on a tree. But I knew
+the' wasn't a billygoat round there near, nor no other kinds of goats.
+It was in the daytime and I was out in a horse pasture, I was jes'
+walkin' along, huntin', when I saw that sight. I guess I got within 50
+steps of it, then I turned around and got away. I never did think much
+about a ghost, but I think it could be possible.
+
+"I don't remember scarcely anything about the war because I was so
+little and times was so different; the country wasn't settled up and
+everything was wild, no people, hardly. Of course, my life was in the
+woods, you might say, didn't hardly know when Sunday come.
+
+"The northern soldiers never did get down in here that I know of. I know
+once, when they was enlisting men to go to battle a whole lot of 'em
+didn't want to fight and would run away and dodge out, and they would
+follow 'em and try to make 'em fight. They had a battle up here on the
+Nueces once and killed some of 'em. I know my boss was in the bunch that
+followed 'em and he got scared for fear this old case would be brought
+up after the war. The company that followed these men was called Old
+Duff Company. I think somewhere around 40 was in the bunch that they
+followed, but I don't know how many was killed. They was a big bluff and
+a big water hole and they said they was throwed in that big water hole.
+
+"We had possums and 'coons to eat sometimes. My father, he gen'rally
+cooked the 'coons, he would dress 'em and stew 'em and then bake 'em. My
+mother wouldn't eat them. There was plenty of rabbits, too. Sometimes
+when they had potatoes they cooked 'em with 'em. I remember one time
+they had just a little patch of blackhead sugar cane. After the freedom,
+my mother had a kind of garden and she planted snap beans and
+watermelons pretty much every year.
+
+"The master fed us tol'bly well. Everything was wild, beef was free,
+just had to bring one in and kill it. Once in awhile, of a Sunday
+mornin', we'd get biscuit flour bread to eat. It was a treat to us. They
+measured the flour out and it had to pan out just like they measured. He
+give us a little somethin' ever' Christmas and somethin' good to eat. I
+heard my people say coffee was high, at times, and I know we didn't get
+no flour, only Sunday mornin'. We lived on co'nbread, mostly, and beef
+and game outta the woods. That was durin' the war and after the war,
+too.
+
+"I was around about 6 or 7 years old when we was freed. We worked for
+George Reedes awhile, then drifted on down to the Frio river and stayed
+there about a year, then we come to Medina County and settled here close
+to where I was raised. We didn't think it hard times at all right after
+the war. The country was wild and unsettled, with ranches 15 or 20 miles
+apart. You never did see anybody and we didn't know really what was
+goin' on in the rest of the country. Sometimes something could happen in
+5 miles of us and we didn't know it for a month.
+
+"I was on the Adams Ranch on the Hondo when my master come out and told
+us we were as free as he was. He said we could stay on and work or could
+go if we wanted to. He gave my mother and father 50 cents apiece and 25
+cents for the children. We stayed awhile and then went west to the Frio.
+
+"I used to be along with old man Big-foot Wallace in my early days. He
+was a mighty fine man. I worked for the people that was gathering stock
+together there. Big Foot raised nice horses, old reg'lar Texas horses,
+and they was better than the reg'lar old Spanish bronco. I used to go to
+his camp down on the San Miguel. He lived in one part and his chickens
+in the rest of his house. His friends liked to hear him talk about his
+travels. He used to run stock horses and had a figger 7 on the left
+shoulder for his brand and the tip of each ear split was his earmark.
+
+"The last man I broke horses for was Wilson Bailey. I was there about 12
+years. He raised just cavi-yard--we called it a cavi-yard of horses,
+just the same thing as a _remuda_. We called 'em that later, but we got
+that from the Spanish. We would get up in a tree with our loop till the
+horse come under and drop it down on him. When they were so spoilt, we
+got 'em in a sort of cavi-yard and drove 'em under trees and caught 'em
+in a snare. We had lots of wild horses, just this side of Pearsall.
+'Bout the only way I'd get throwed was to get careless. We'd ketch 'im
+up, hackamore 'im up, saddle 'im up and get on 'im and let 'im go.
+Sometimes he'd be too wild to pitch, he'd break and run and you had to
+let 'im run himself down. I used to rather ketch up a wild horse and
+break 'im than to eat breakfast.
+
+"When I first started farmin' I taken up some state land, about 80
+acres, down on Black Creek, in Medina County. I stayed there ten or
+twelve years. Cotton hadn't got in this country and I raised some corn,
+sugar cane and watermelons. I commenced with horses, but 'long 'way down
+the line I used oxen some, too. I used one of those old walking plows.
+
+"I sold that place and moved to a place on the Tywaukney Creek
+(Tonkawa). I come up to church and met my wife then. Her name was Ida
+Bradley and I was 38 years old. We lived down on the Tywaukney right
+about 23 years and raised our children there. We jes' had a little home
+weddin'. I wore a suit, dark suit. We got married about 8 o'clock in the
+evenin' and we had barbecue, cake and ice cream. You see, in them times
+I wasn't taught anything about years and dates, but I judge it was about
+25 years after the war before I settled on the Tywaukney."
+
+
+
+
+420310
+
+
+     GUS BRADSHAW was born about 1845, at Keecheye, Alabama, a slave of
+     David Cavin. He recalls being brought to Texas in the 1850's, when
+     the Cavin family settled near old Port Caddo. Gus remained with his
+     master for ten years after emancipation. He now lives alone on a
+     fifty acre farm seven miles northeast of Marshall, which he bought
+     in 1877. Gus receives an $11.00 per month pension.
+
+
+"I was born at Keecheye, Alabama, and belonged to old man David Cavin.
+The only statement I can make 'bout my age is I knows I was 'bout twenty
+years old when us slaves was freed. I never knowed my daddy, but my
+mammy was Amelia Cavin. I's heard her say she's born in Alabama more
+times than I got fingers and toes. Our old master brung us to Texas when
+I's a good sized kid. I 'members like it am yesterday, how we camped
+more'n a week in New Orleans. I seed 'em sell niggers off the block
+there jus' like they was cattle. Then we came to old Port Caddo on Caddo
+Lake and master settles a big farm close to where the boats run. Port
+Caddo was a big shipping place then, and Dud and John Perry run the
+first store there. The folks hauled cotton there from miles away.
+
+"Mammy's folks was named Maria and Joe Gloster and they come to Texas
+with the Cavins. My grandma say to me, 'Gus, don't run you mouth too
+much and allus have manners to whites and blacks.' Chillen was raise
+right then, but now they come up any way. I seed young niggers turn the
+dipper up and drink 'fore old folks. I wouldn't dare do that when I's
+comin' up.
+
+"Maria say to me one day, 'Son, I's here when the stars fell.' She tell
+me they fell like a sheet and spread over the ground. Ike Hood, the old
+blacksmith on our place, he told me, too. I says, 'Ike, how old was you
+when the stars fell?' He say, 'I's thirty-two.'
+
+"Massa David had big quarters for us niggers, with chimneys and
+fireplaces. They use to go round and pick up old hawg or cow bones to
+bile with greens and cabbage. They was plenty of wild game, and deer and
+wolves howlin' right through this country, but you can't even find the
+track of one now.
+
+"The first work I done was pickin' cotton. Every fellow was out at
+daylight pickin' cotton or hoein' or plowin'. They was one overseer and
+two nigger drivers. But at night you could hear us laughin' and talkin'
+and singin' and prayin', and hear them fiddles and things playin'. It
+look like darkies git 'long more better then than now. Some folks says
+niggers oughtn't to be slaves, but I says they ought, 'cause they jus'
+won't do right onless they is made to do it.
+
+"Massa David allus give us eggnog and plenty good whiskey at Christmas.
+We had all day to eat and drink and sing and dance. We didn't git no
+presents, but we had a good time.
+
+"I don't know much 'bout the war, only Massa Bob Perry come over one day
+and say to Grandma Maria, 'They is surrender, Maria, you is free.' She
+say to him, 'I don't care, I gwine stay with my white folks.'
+
+"The Klu Klux done lots of cuttin' up round there. Two of 'em come to
+Dr. Taylor's house. He had two niggers what run off from the Klux and
+they want to whip 'em, but Dr. Taylor wouldn't 'low 'em. I knowed old
+Col. Alford, one of the Klux leaders, and he was a sight. He told me
+once, 'Gus, they done send me to the pen for Kluxing.' I say, 'Massa
+Alford, didn't they make a gentleman of you?' He say, 'Hell, no!'
+
+"I knowed old Col. Haggerdy, too. He marries a widow of a rich old
+Indian chief, name McIntosh. He broke a treaty with his people and had
+to hide out in a cave a long time, and his wife brung food to him. One
+time when she went to the cave he was gone. She knowed then the Indians
+done git him and kilt him for vi'latin' the treaty. So she marries old
+Col. Haggerdy.
+
+"The only time I votes was against whiskey. I voted for it. Some white
+folks done say they'd whip me if I voted for it, but Mr. Joe Strickland
+done told me they jus' tryin' scare me, so I voted for it. I don't think
+niggers ought to vote. If some niggers had things in hand 'stead of
+white folks, I couldn't stay here. These eddicated niggers am causin'
+the devilment. The young niggers ain't got no 'spect for old age.
+
+"I bought and paid for fifty acres land here in Harrison County and I
+has lived on it sixty years. I lived with my wife fifty years 'fore she
+died and done raise two chillen. These young niggers don't stay married
+fifty days, sometimes. I don't mess with 'em, but if I needs help I goes
+to the white folks. If you 'have youself, they allus help you if you
+needs it.
+
+
+
+
+420240
+
+
+[Illustration: Wes Brady]
+
+
+     WES BRADY, 88, was born a slave of John Jeems, who had a farm five
+     miles north of Marshall. Wes has farmed in Harrison County all his
+     life. He now lives with friends on the Long's Camp Road, and draws
+     a $11.00 monthly pension.
+
+
+"I was born and raised in Harrison County, and I was eighty-eight years
+old this July past and has wore myself out here in this county. I was
+born on Massa John Jeem's place, on the old Jefferson Road, and my
+father was Peter Calloway, and he was born in Alabama and his whole
+fam'ly brought to Texas by nigger traders. My mother was Harriet Ellis
+and I had two brothers named George and Andrew, and four sisters, Lula
+and Judy and Mary and Sallie. My old Grandpa Phil told me how he helped
+run the Indians off the land.
+
+"Grandpa Phil told me 'bout meetin' his massa. Massa Jeems had three or
+four places and grandpa hadn't seed him and he went to one of the other
+farms and meets a man goin' down the road. The man say, 'Who you belong
+to?' Grandpa Phil say, 'Massa Jeems.' The man say, 'Is he a mean man?'
+Grandpa say, 'I don't know him, but they say he's purty tight.' It was
+Massa Jeems talkin' and he laughs and gives Grandpa Phil five dollars.
+
+"We niggers lived in log houses and slep' on hay mattress with lowell
+covers, and et fat pork and cornbread and 'lasses and all kinds garden
+stuff. If we et flour bread, our women folks had to slip the flour
+siftin's from missy's kitchen and darsn't let the white folks know it.
+We wore one riggin' lowell clothes a year and I never had shoes on till
+after surrender come. I run all over the place till I was a big chap in
+jes' a long shirt with a string tied round the bottom for a belt. I went
+with my young massa that way when he hunted in the woods, and toted
+squirrels for him.
+
+"Some white folks might want to put me back in slavery if I tells how we
+was used in slavery time, but you asks me for the truth. The overseer
+was 'straddle his big horse at three o'clock in the mornin', roustin'
+the hands off to the field. He got them all lined up and then come back
+to the house for breakfas'. The rows was a mile long and no matter how
+much grass was in them, if you leaves one sprig on your row they beats
+you nearly to death. Lots of times they weighed cotton by candlelight.
+All the hands took dinner to the field in buckets and the overseer give
+them fifteen minutes to git dinner. He'd start cuffin' some of them over
+the head when it was time to stop eatin' and go back to work. He'd go to
+the house and eat his dinner and then he'd come back and look in all the
+buckets and if a piece of anything that was there when he left was et,
+he'd say you was losin' time and had to be whipped. He'd drive four
+stakes in the ground and tie a nigger down and beat him till he's raw.
+Then he'd take a brick and grind it up in a powder and mix it with lard
+and put it all over him and roll him in a sheet. It'd be two days or
+more 'fore that nigger could work 'gain. I seed one nigger done that way
+for stealin' a meat bone from the meathouse. That nigger got fifteen
+hundred lashes. The li'l chaps would pick up egg shells and play with
+them and if the overseer seed them he'd say you was stealin' eggs and
+give you a beatin'. I seed long lines of slaves chained together driv by
+a white man on a hoss, down the Jefferson road.
+
+"The first work I done was drappin' corn, and then cow-pen boy and sheep
+herder. All us house chaps had to shell a half bushel corn every night
+for to feed the sheep. Many times I has walked through the quarters when
+I was a little chap, cryin' for my mother. We mos'ly only saw her on
+Sunday. Us chillen was in bed when the folks went to the field and come
+back. I 'members wakin' up at night lots of times and seein' her make a
+little mush on the coals in the fireplace, but she allus made sho' that
+overseer was asleep 'fore she done that.
+
+"One time the stock got in the field and the overseer 'cuses a old man
+and jumps on him and breaks his neck. When he seed the old man dead, he
+run off to the woods, but massa sent some nigger after him and say for
+him to come back, the old man jus' got overhet and died.
+
+"We went to church on the place and you ought to heared that preachin'.
+Obey your massa and missy, don't steal chickens and eggs and meat, but
+nary a word 'bout havin' a soul to save.
+
+"We had parties Saturday nights and massa come out and showed us new
+steps. He allus had a extra job for us on Sunday, but he gave us
+Christmas Day and all the meat we wanted. But if you had money you'd
+better hide it, 'cause he'd git it.
+
+"The fightin' was did off from us. My father went to war to wait on Josh
+Calloway. My father never come back. Massa Jeems cussed and 'bused us
+niggers more'n ever, but he took sick and died and stepped off to Hell
+'bout six months 'fore we got free. When we was free, they beat drums in
+Marshall. I stayed on 'bout seven months and then my mother and me went
+to farmin' for ourselves.
+
+"I wore myself out right in this county and now I'm too old to work.
+These folks I lives with takes good care of me and the gov'ment gives me
+$11.00 a month what I is proud to git.
+
+
+
+
+420165
+
+
+     JACOB BRANCH, about 86, was a slave of the Van Loos family, in
+     Louisiana, who sold him when a baby to Elisha Stevenson, of Double
+     Bayou, Texas. Jacob helps his son, Enrichs, farm, and is unusually
+     agile for his age. They live in the Double Bayou settlement, near
+     Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"I's bought and fotched here to Double Bayou when I's jes' three year
+old. I and my half-brother, Eleck, he de baby, was both born in
+Louisiana on de Van Loos place, but I go by de name of Branch, 'cause my
+daddy name Branch. My mama name Renee. Dey split up us family and Elisha
+Stevenson buy my mama and de two chillen. I ain't never see my daddy no
+more and don't 'member him at all.
+
+"Old 'Lisha Stevenson he a great one for to raise pigs. He sell sometime
+500 hawgs at one time. He take he dogs and drive dem hawgs 'cross de
+Neches River all by hisself, to sell dem. Dat how he git money to buy de
+niggers, sellin' hawgs and cowhides.
+
+"Old massa he sho' a good old man, but de old missy, she a tornado! Her
+name Miss 'Liza. She could be terrible mean. But sometime she take her
+old morrel--dat a sack make for to carry things in--and go out and come
+back with plenty joints of sugar cane. She take a knife and sit on de
+gallary and peel dat cane and give a joint to every one de li'l chillen.
+
+"Mama, she work up in de big house, doin' cookin' and washin'. Old massa
+go buy a cullud man name Uncle Charley Fenner. He a good old cullud man.
+Massa brung him to de quarters and say, 'Renee, here you husband,' and
+den he turn to Uncle and say, 'Charley, dis you woman.' Den dey
+consider marry. Dat de way dey marry den, by de massa's word. Uncle
+Charley, he good step-pa to us.
+
+"De white folks have de good house with a brick chimney. Us quarters de
+good, snug li'l house with flue and oven. Dey didn't bother to have much
+furn'chure, 'cause us in dere only to sleep. Us have homemake bench and
+'Georgia Hoss' bed with hay mattress. All us cookin' and eatin' done in
+de kitchen de big house. Us have plenty to eat, too. De smokehouse allus
+full white 'taters and cracklin's hangin' on de wall. Us git dem mos'
+any time us want, jes' so long us didn't waste nothin'. Dey have big jar
+with buttermilk and 'low us drink all us want.
+
+"Old lady 'Liza, she have three women to spin when she git ready make de
+clothes for everybody. Dey spin and weave and make all us clothes. Us
+all wear shirt tail till us 'bout twelve or fourteen, boys and gals,
+too. You couldn't tell us apart.
+
+"Us chillen start to work soon's us could toddle. First us gather
+firewood. Iffen it freezin' or hot us have to go to toughen us up. When
+us git li'l bigger us tend de cattle and feed hosses and hawgs. By time
+us good sprouts us pickin' cotton and pullin' cane. Us ain't never idle.
+Sometime us git far out in de field and lay down in de corn row and nap.
+But, Lawdy, iffen dey cotch you, dey sho' wore you out! Sunday de
+onliest rest day and den de white folks 'low us play.
+
+"Massa never whup Uncle Charley, 'cause he good nigger and work hard. It
+make missy mad and one time when massa gone she go down in de field.
+Uncle Charley hoein' corn jes' like massa done told him, jes' singin'
+and happy. Old missy she say, 'Nigger, I's sho gwineter whup you.' He
+say, 'What for you whup me. I doin' every bit what old massa done tell
+me.' But missy think he gittin' it too good, 'cause he ain't never been
+whupped. She clumb over de fence and start down de row with de cowhide.
+Uncle Charley, he ain't even raise he voice, but he cut de las' weed
+outen dat corn and commence to wave he hoe in de air, and he say,
+'Missy, I ain't 'vise you come any step closeter.' Dat sho' make her
+mad, but she 'fraid to do nothin'.
+
+"One time she have 'nother nigger name Charlie. Massa go on de trip and
+she tell dis Charley iffen he ain't finish grindin' all de cornmeal by
+Monday she gwineter give him a t'ousand lashes. He try, but he ain't
+able make dat much meal, so come Monday he runned off in de bayou. Dat
+night come de big freeze and he down dere with water up to he knees and
+when massa come home and go git him, he so froze he couldn't walk. Dey
+brung him in de kitchen and old missy cuss him out. Soon's he thaw out,
+he done die right dere on de spot.
+
+"My pore mama! Every washday old missy give her de beatin'. She couldn't
+keep de flies from speckin' de clothes overnight. Old missy git up soon
+in de mornin', 'fore mama have time git dem specks off. She snort and
+say, 'Renee, I's gwineter teach you how to wash.' Den she beat mama with
+de cowhide. Look like she cut my mama in two. Many's de time I edges up
+and tries take some dem licks off my mama.
+
+"Slavery, one to 'nother, was purty rough. Every plantation have to
+answer for itself.
+
+"I used to know lots of songs, but I don't know many now. Spiritual
+songs, dey comes through visions. Dat's why cullud folks can make dem
+better dan white folks. I knowed one song what start out--
+
+"'De Jews done kill pore Jesus,
+And bury him in de sepulchur;
+De grave wouldn't hold him,
+Dey place guards all 'round him,
+But de angels move de stone,
+De Jews done kill pore Jesus,
+But de grave it wouldn't hold him.'
+
+"Dey 'nother song what say--
+
+"'Run, sinner, run,
+Gawd is a-callin' you.
+Run, sinner, run,
+De fire'll overtake you.'
+
+"When I 'bout ten dey sets me ginnin' cotton. Old massa he done make de
+cotton with de hand crank. It built on a bench like. I gin de cotton by
+turnin' dat crank. When I gits a lapful I puts it in de tow sack and dey
+take it to Miss Susan to make de twine with it. I warm and damp de
+cotton 'fore de fireplace 'fore I start ginnin' it.
+
+"Dere school for de white chillen in Double Bayou and I used to go meet
+de chillen comin' home and dey stop longside de way and teach me my ABC.
+Dey done carry me as far as Baker in de book when old missy find it out
+and make dem stop. De war comin' on den and us daren't even pick up a
+piece of paper. De white folks didn't want us to larn to read for fear
+us find out things.
+
+"Us livin' down by de Welborn's den and I seed dem haul de logs out of
+Pine Island to make dat Welborn house. Old man Hamshire and old man
+Remington builded dat Welborn house. It 'cross de bayou, left hand side
+Smith's ferry. Dat house still standin' in parts.
+
+"One mornin' Eleck and me git up at crack of dawn to milk. All at once
+come a shock what shake de earth. De big fish jump clean out de bay and
+turtles and alligators run out dere ponds. Dey plumb ruint Galveston!
+Us runned in de house and all de dishes and things done jump out de
+shelf. Dat de first bombardment of Galveston. De sojers put powder under
+people's houses and blowin' up Galveston.
+
+"Young massa Shake Stevenson he vol'teer and git kilt somewheres in
+Virginny. Young massa Tucker Stevenson, he ain't 'lieve in war and he
+say he never gwine fight. He hide in de woods so de conscrip' men can't
+find him. Old man LaCour come 'round and say he have orders for find
+Tucker and bring him in dead or 'live. But 'cause he old massa's friend,
+he say, 'Why don't you buy de boy's services off?' So old massa take de
+boat, 'Catrig,' us calls it, and loads it with corn and sich and us pole
+it down to Galveston. De people need dat food so much, dat load supplies
+done buy off Massa Tucker from fightin'.
+
+"After war starts lots of slaves runned off to git to de Yankees. All
+dem in dis part heads for de Rio Grande river. De Mexicans rig up
+flat-boats out in de middle de river, tied to stakes with rope. When de
+cullud people gits to de rope dey can pull deyself 'cross de rest de way
+on dem boats. De white folks rid de 'Merican side dat river all de time,
+but plenty slaves git through, anyway.
+
+"I wait on lots of sojers. I have to get smartweed and bile it in salt
+water to bath dem in. Dat help de rheumatism. Dem sojers have rheumatism
+so bad for standin' day and night in de water.
+
+"Us sho' in good health dem days. Iffen a cullud man weak dey move de
+muscles in he arms, bleed him and give him plenty bacon and cornbread,
+and he git so strong he could lift a log. Dey didn't go in for cuttin',
+like dey do now. Dey git herbs out de woods, blue mass and quinine and
+calomel. I think people jes' die under pills, now. Old lady Field she
+make medicine with snakeroot and larkspur and marshroot and redroot.
+
+"After war am over Massa Tucker brung de freedom papers and read dem. He
+say us all am free as Hell. Old man Charley so happy he jes' roll on de
+floor like a hoss and kick he heels. De nex' mornin' mama start do
+somethin' and missy cuss her out. I runned to missy and say, 'Us free as
+de bird.' She sho' whup me for dat, but no more, 'cause she so mean us
+all leave.
+
+"Dat funny. Old man LaFour, what de head de patterrollers and so mean,
+he de first to help us niggers after freedom. He loan us he ox team and
+pay Uncle Charley a dollar de day for work and a dollar every time my
+mama wash for he wife.
+
+"Old massa and missy split up. She so bad she ain't give him no better
+show dan she done us. Old massa gittin' some peaches one day and she
+come after him with de buggy whip. He git on he hoss and say, 'Liz,
+you's gittin' broad as de beef. You too big for me.' She so mad she spit
+fire. Lightenin' done kill her, she upstairs and de big streak hits her.
+It knock her under de bed.
+
+"De first freedom work I done am pullin' up potato hills at two bits a
+hunnerd. 'Bout two bits de most us could make in one day. I work two
+days to buy mama de turkey hen for Christmas. Anything mama want I think
+she got to have. I's growed 'fore I gits much as four bits a day. I's
+done earn as much as $1.50 in my time, though.
+
+"When I's 25 year old I marries Betty Baker but she dead now. De Rev.
+Patterson he marry us. Us has four chillen livin'. Turah and Renee, dat
+my gals, and Enrichs and Milton, dat my boys. Milton work in Houston and
+Enrich help me farm. I's a Mason 30 year. De lodge split up now, but it
+answer.
+
+
+
+
+420069
+
+
+[Illustration: William Branch]
+
+
+     WILLIAM BRANCH, born 1850, 322 Utah St., San Antonio, Texas.
+     Eyesight is so poor someone must lead him to the store or to
+     church. William kneels at his bedside each evening at five and says
+     his prayers. In this ceremony he spends a half hour or more
+     chanting one Negro spiritual after another.
+
+
+"Yahsur, I was a slave. I was bo'n May 13, 1850, on the place of Lawyer
+Woodson in Lunenburg County, Virginia. It was 'bout 75 miles southwest
+of Richmond. They was two big plantations, one on one side the road,
+yother the yother. My marster owned 75 slaves. He raised tobacco and
+cotton. I wukked tobacco sometime, sometime cotton. Dere wasn't no
+whippin' or switchin'. We had to wuk hard. Marster Woodson was a rich
+man. He live in a great big house, a lumber house painted white. And it
+had a great big garden.
+
+"De slaves lives in a long string of log houses. Dey had dirt floors and
+shingle roofs. Marster Woodson's house was shingle roof too. We had home
+cured bacon and veg'tables, dried co'n, string beans and dey give us hoe
+cakes baked in hot ashes. Dere always was lots of fresh milk.
+
+"How'd us slaves git de clothes? We carded de cotton, den de women spin
+it on a spinnin' wheel. After dat day sew de gahment togeddah
+on a sewin' machine. Yahsur, we's got sewin' machine, wid a big wheel
+and a handle. One woman tu'n de handle and de yuther woman do de
+sewin'.
+
+"Dat's how we git de clothes for de 75 slaves. Marster's clothes? We
+makes dem for de whole fam'ly. De missis send de pattren and de slaves
+makes de clothes. Over nigh Richmond a fren' of Marster Woodson has 300
+slaves. Dey makes all de clothes for dem.
+
+"I was with Marster twel de Yankees come down to Virginia in 1861. De
+sergeant of de Yankees takes me up on his hoss and I goes to Washington
+wid de Yankees. I got to stay dere 'cause I'd run away from my marster.
+
+"I stay at de house of Marse Frank Cayler. He's an ole time hack driver.
+I was his houseboy. I stay dere twel de year 1870, den I goes to
+Baltimore and jines de United States Army. We's sent to Texas 'count of
+de Indians bein' so bad. Dey put us on a boat at Baltimore and we landed
+at Galveston.
+
+"Den we marches from Galveston to Fort Duncan. It was up, up, de whole
+time. We ties our bedclothes and rolls dem in a bundle wid a strap. We
+walks wid our guns and bedclothes on our backs, and de wagons wid de
+rations follows us. Dey is pulled by mules. We goes 15 miles ev'ry day.
+We got no tents, night come, we unrolls de blankets and sleeps under de
+trees, sometime under de brush.
+
+"For rations we got canned beans, milk and hardtack. De hard tacks is 3
+or 4 in a box, we wets 'em in water and cooks 'em in a skillet. We gits
+meat purty often. When we camps for de night de captain say, 'You'all
+kin go huntin'.' Before we git to de mountains dere's deer and rabbits
+and dey ain't no fences. Often in de dark we sees a big animal and we
+shoots. When we bring 'im to camp, de captain say, 'Iffen de cow got
+iron burns de rancher gwineter shoot hisself a nigger scout.' But de cow
+ain't got no iron, it's--what de name of de cow what ain't feel de iron?
+Mavrick, yahsur. We eats lots of dem Mavricks. We's goin' 'long de
+river bottom, and before we comes to Fort Duncan we sees de cactus and
+muskeet. Dere ain't much cattle, but one colored scout shoots hisself a
+bear. Den we eats high. Fort Duncan were made of slab lumber and de roof
+was gravel and grass.
+
+"Den we's ordered to Fort Davis and we's in de mountains now. Climb,
+climb all day, and de Indians give us a fit ev'ry day. We kills some
+Indians, dey kills a few soldiers. We was at Fort Clark a while. At Fort
+Davis I jines de colored Indian Scouts, I was in Capt. George L.
+Andrew's Co. K.
+
+"We's told de northern Cheyennes is on a rampus and we's goin' to Fort
+Sill in Indian Territory. Before we gits to Fort Concho (San Angelo) de
+Comanches and de Apaches give us a fit. We fitten' 'em all de time and
+when we gits away from de Comanches and Apaches we fitten de Cheyennes.
+Dey's seven feet tall. Dey couldn't come through that door.
+
+"When we gits to Fort Sill, Gen. Davidson say de Cheyennes is off de
+reservation, and he say, 'You boys is got to git dem back. Iffen you
+kill 'em, dey can't git back to de reservation.' Den we goes scoutin'
+for de Cheyennes and dey is scoutin' for us. Dey gits us first, on de
+Wichita River was 500 of 'em, and we got 75 colored Indian Scouts. Den
+Red Foot, de Chief of de Cheyennes, he come to see Capt. Lawson and say
+he want rations for his Indians. De captain say he cain't give no
+rations to Indians off de reservation. Red Foot say he don't care 'bout
+no reservation and he say he take what we got. Capt. Lawson 'low we
+gotter git reinforcements. We got a guide in de scout troop, he call
+hisself Jack Kilmartin. De captain say, 'Jack, I'se in trouble, how kin
+I git a dispatch to Gen. Davidson?' Jack say, 'I kin git it through.'
+And Jack, he crawl on his belly and through de brush and he lead a pony,
+and when he gits clear he rides de pony bareback twel he git to Fort
+Sill. Den Gen. Davidson, he soun' de gin'ral alarm and he send two
+companies of cavalry to reinforce us. But de Cheyennes give 'em a fit
+all de way, dey's gotter cut dere way through de Cheyennes.
+
+"And Col. Shafter comes up, and goes out in de hills in his shirt
+sleeves jus' like you's sittin' dere. Dey's snow on de groun' and de
+wind's cole, but de colonel don't care, and he say, 'Whut's dis order
+Gen. Davidson give? Don' kill de Cheyennes? You kill 'em all from de
+cradle to de Cross.'
+
+"And den we starts de attack. De Cheyennes got Winchesters and rifles
+and repeaters from de government. Yahsur, de government give 'em de guns
+dey used to shoot us. We got de ole fashion muzzle loaders. You puts one
+ball in de muzzle and shove de powder down wid de ramrod. Den we went in
+and fit 'em, and 'twas like fightin' a wasp's nest. Dey kills a lot of
+our boys and we nearly wipes 'em out. Den we disarms de Cheyennes we
+captures, and turns dere guns in to de regiment.
+
+"I come to San Antonio after I'se mustered out and goes to work for de
+Bell Jewelry Company and stays dere twel I cain't work no more. Did I
+like de army? Yahsur, I'd ruthuh be in de army dan a plantation slave."
+
+
+
+
+420230
+
+
+[Illustration: Clara Brim]
+
+
+     CLARA BRIM, slave of William Lyons of Branch, Louisiana, now lives
+     in Beaumont, Texas. The town of Branch was known in slave days as
+     Plaquemine Bouley. Clara estimates her age to be 100 or 102, and
+     from various facts known to her and her family, this would seem to
+     be correct.
+
+
+"Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't have no old missus, 'cause
+he was a bachelor. He had a big plantation. I don't know how big but dey
+somethin' like twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies had
+plenty in dem. My ma was Becky Brim and pa, he name Louis Brim. She come
+from Old Virginny. Dey work in de field. I had two sister name Cass and
+Donnie and a brudder name Washington. He went off to de war. When it
+break out dey come and take him off to work in de army. He lost in dat
+war. He didn't come back. Nobody ever know what happen to him.
+
+"Some de houses log house and some plank, but dey all good. Dey well
+built and had brick chimneys. Dey houses what de wind didn't blow in. Us
+had beds, too, not dem built in de wall. Us sho' treat good in slavery
+times, yes, suh. Old massa give us plenty clothes to keep us good and
+warm. He sho' did.
+
+"Old massa, he wasn't marry and eat de same things de slaves eat. He
+didn't work dem in de heat of de day. 'Bout eleven o'clock, when dat sun
+git hot, he call dem out de field. He give dem till it git kind of cool
+befo' he make dem go back in de field. He didn't have no overseer. He
+seed 'bout de plantation hisself. He raise cotton and corn and sweet
+'taters and peas and cane, didn't fool with rice. He didn't go in for
+oats, neither.
+
+"When Sunday come Old Massa ask who want to go to church. Dem what wants
+could ride hoss-back or walk. Us go to de white folks church. Dey sot in
+front and us sot in back. Us had prayer meetin', too, reg'lar every
+week. One old cullud man a sort of preacher. He de leader in 'ligion.
+
+"When de slaves go to work he give dem de task. Dat so much work, so
+many rows cotton to chop or corn to hoe. When dey git through dey can do
+what dey want. He task dem on Monday. Some dem git through Thursday
+night. Den dey can hire out to somebody and git pay for it.
+
+"Old Massa even git de preacher for marryin' de slaves. And when a slave
+die, he git de preacher and have Bible readin' and prayin'. Mostest de
+massas didn't do dat-a-way.
+
+"I as big in war time as I is now. I used to do anything in de field
+what de men done. I plow and pull fodder and pick cotton. But de hardes'
+work I ever done am since I free. Old Massa, he didn't work us hard,
+noway.
+
+"He allus give us de pass, so dem patterrollers not cotch us. Dey 'bout
+six men on hoss-back, ridin' de roads to cotch niggers what out without
+de pass. Iffen dey cotch him it am de whippin'. But de niggers on us
+place was good and civ'lized folks. Dey didn't have no fuss. Old Massa
+allus let dem have de garden and dey can raise things to eat and sell.
+Sometime dey have some pig and chickens.
+
+"I been marry his' one time and he been dead 'bout forty-one years now.
+I stay with Old Massa long time after freedom. In 1913 I come live with
+my youngest girl here in Beaumont. You see, I can't 'member so much. I
+has lived so long my 'memberance ain't so good now.
+
+
+
+
+420248
+
+
+[Illustration: Sylvester Brooks]
+
+
+     SYLVESTER BROOKS, 87, was born in Green County, Alabama, a slave of
+     Josiah Collier. The old Negro's memory is poor, but he managed to
+     recall a few incidents of slave days. He lives in Mart, Texas.
+
+
+"I's born 'bout de year 1850, near de Tom Bigbee river in Alabama, on a
+plantation own by Marse Josiah Collier. My folks was Henderson and
+Martha Brooks and I's de only child den.
+
+"Marse Collier owned seventy fam'lies of slaves and dey all lived in dey
+quarters 'bout a mile from de big house. When freedom come Marse Collier
+sent for all de slaves and lines us up in a row, two deep, and helt up
+he hands and say, 'Boys, you is free as I is. All of you what wants to
+can go, and all of you what wants to can work for me on wages dis year.
+Next year I'll give you a crop or work for wages.' Dey all stays but
+two, and one of dem two my daddy, and he lef' mammy and six chillen and
+never come back.
+
+"Us stays on till Marse Collier and Missus both dies, and den stays with
+he oldes' gal, and didn't go 'way till we's growed and has fam'lies of
+our own.
+
+"I 'members best de Fourth of July. De white folks have lots to eat for
+dem and us and we plays games and goes swimmin'.
+
+"Next thing I 'members is de patterrollers, 'cause dey whip me every
+time dey cotches me without my pass. Dat de way dey make us stay home at
+night, and it made good niggers out of us, 'cause we couldn't chase
+round and git in no meanness.
+
+"Old Marse often told me 'bout de stars fallin'. It was 'long 'bout
+sundown and growed dark all a sudden and de chickens goes to roost. Den
+some stars with long tails 'gins to shoot, den it look like all de
+stars had come out of Heaven, and did dey fall! De stars not all what
+fell. De white folks and de niggers fell on dere knees, prayin' to Gawd
+to save dem iffen de world comin' to a end, and de women folks all run
+down in de cellar and stayed till mornin'. Old Marse say it was in 1833,
+and he say dem stars fall awhile and quit awhile, like de showers when
+it rains.
+
+"'Bout a year after freedom Old Marse give us a piece of land for a
+church and dis was de school, too. De preacher's name was Christmas
+Crawford, and dat de reason I 'members it, it so funny to us. De nigger
+teacher named Nimron. De niggers has de blueback spellers and larns
+'rithmetic, too.
+
+"On Thanksgivin' Day de niggers goes round to de white folks houses and
+gives a ser'nade, like dis:
+
+"'De old bee make de honeycomb,
+  De young bee make de honey--
+  De nigger make de cotton and corn,
+  And de white folks git de money.
+
+"'De raccoon he a curious man,
+  He never works till dark;
+  Nothin' ever 'sturbs he mind,
+  Till he hear old Towser bark.'
+
+"Den de white folks asks us in and help ourselves to de cake or wine or
+whatever dey has, and we does dis on Christmas, too.
+
+"We had a song we'd sing when we's thinkin' of comin' to Texas:
+
+"'We'll put for de South, for seven-up and loo,
+  Chime in, niggers, won't you come 'long, too?
+  No use talkin' when de nigger wants to go,
+  Where de corn top blossoms and canebrakes grow.
+  Come 'long, Cuba, and dance de polka juba,
+  Way down South, where de corn tops grow.'
+
+"I'd like to be in old Alabama to die, but Old Marse and Missus gone,
+and it ain't no use goin' dere no more.
+
+
+
+
+420014
+
+
+[Illustration: Donaville Broussard]
+
+
+     DONAVILLE BROUSSARD, a polished gentleman of his race, was the son
+     of a mulatto slave of Emilier Caramouche. He was born in 1850, but
+     appears vigorous. Light skinned, with blue eyes and a genial
+     expression, he gave the story of his life in the French patois
+     spoken by Louisiana French Negroes, which has been translated into
+     English.
+
+
+"My mama was daughter of one of the Carmouche boys. One of M'sieur
+Francois' sons. She call herself Armance Carmouche. She was house
+servant for the family and I worked around the house. I remember my
+Madame brought me the little basket and it had a strap on it. I put the
+strap over the shoulder and went round with the sharp stick and picked
+up the leaves on the ground with the stick.
+
+"It was a great house with trees and flowers. Madame liked all clean and
+pretty. I never worked hard. The ladies and my mama, too, petted me as
+if I was the white child.
+
+"M'sieur had a widow sister. She made us learn the prayers. We were glad
+to go where she was for she always had something good in her bag for us.
+I never saw the baptizing. In those days all the slaves had the religion
+of the master and the Catholics didn't have no baptizing. They didn't
+have to half-drown when they got their religion. The church was 15 or 20
+miles off. The priest came and held Mass for the white folks sometimes.
+
+"I remember one wedding. My aunt got married. M'sieur Caramouche killed
+a big pig. The white folks ate in the house. The slaves sat under the
+trees and ate in the yard. At four o'clock the justice of the peace
+came. He was the friend of M'sieur Caramouche. He made my aunt and the
+man hold hands and jump over the broom handle. When the priest came he
+made M'sieur sign some papers.
+
+"A slave always had to ask M'sieur to marry. He always let the women
+slaves marry who they wanted. He didn't loose by that. He was so good
+the men would come to his plantation.
+
+"We all wore the long chemise. Made out of heavy cloth. They made the
+cloth on the place and the women sewed it up. We didn't wear the shoes.
+We didn't like them when we had them.
+
+"Each slave could have the little garden. They raised vegetables and had
+a couple of beehives for the honey.
+
+"When the Yankees came they told us we could be free, but I don't know
+of any slaves that left. Old M'sieur died of the fever in the second
+year of the war. His wife died before he did. No children. They sold us,
+the house and everything. M'sieur Cyprien Arceneaux of Lafayette bought
+me and Madame Arvillien Bernard of St. Pierre bought the mama. They used
+to call it St. Pierre. They call it Carenero now. When war was finished
+I left M'sieur Arceneaux and lived with mama.
+
+"A year and a half after that the mama married a black man and us three
+farmed the little farm. My steppapa didn't like me. I was light. He and
+me couldn't get along. So when I had 20 years I left there and hired
+myself out. I saved till I bought a little piece of land for myself.
+Then I married and raised the family. Me and my wife and the children
+farmed that place up to ten years ago and then she died. My son farms
+the place now and I came to Beaumont. I live with my girl.
+
+"I remember me in time of war we danced. Round dances. We sang and
+danced La Boulangere in time of war. De song go:
+
+"'La Boulangere ait ta victoire
+Et nous, qui sont en guerre,
+Voici le jour que je dois partir.
+
+"'Mon cher ami, tu pars,
+Tu me laisses un enfant dans les bras
+   et prend tes armes.
+Et moi, je vais dans le moment
+   verser des larmes.
+
+"'Quand je serai en le guerre, [Handwritten Note: a la guerre?]
+Tu serais de garnison,
+Et tu m'oublirais moi,
+Qui serai en les haillons.
+
+"'J'entends le tombour qui m'appelle
+   A les points de jour.
+Mon cher Armande, si tu m'aimes
+Tu penserais a moi, quand tu serais,
+   Dans tes plaisir.
+Moi--que serai au bout du fusil!'
+
+"I got one real scare. I was with M'sieur Arceneaux in Lafayette. There
+was the battle. Lots of fighting. Lots of killing. The Yankees came
+right inside the house. I stayed hid.
+
+"I don't know whether it's been better since the war. At all times one
+has his miseries. We managed to get along on the farm. But now I have
+nothing. Oh, I don't mean slavery was better than to be free. I mean
+times were better.
+
+"The reason I'm so light is, my mama was half-white. My papa was Neville
+Broussard and he was all white.
+
+
+
+
+420233
+
+
+[Illustration: Fannie Brown]
+
+
+     FANNIE BROWN, aged Negro of Waco, Texas, does not know her age. She
+     was born near Richmond, Virginia, a slave of the Koonce family.
+     They sold her to Mrs. Margaret Taylor, of Belton, Texas, when
+     Fannie was only five years old, and she never saw her mother again.
+
+
+"I was borned near Richmond, over in Virginy, but Massa Koonce sold me.
+When I was five year old he brung me to Belton and sold me to Missy
+Margaret Taylor, and she kep' me till she died. I was growed den and
+sold to Massa Jim Fletcher and dere I stayed till I was freed.
+
+"Dere no spring near Massa Fletcher's place and us have to git water out
+de well, what dey call de sweep well. Dey cut down a young saplin' and
+weight it on one end with rocks and tie de bucket on a rope on de other
+end and brace de pole over de well.
+
+"While de big house bein' built dey slep' in a big wagon and cook over a
+fireplace make out of rock what us niggers pick up in de woods. Us cook
+lots of good eatin' out on dat fireplace, dem wild turkeys and wild meat
+sho' tasted good.
+
+"Massa trades ten yards of red calico and two hatchets to de Indians for
+some skins and take de skins to Austin and traded dem fer de spinnin'
+wheel and loom, and hauls dem to Belton in de ox carts.
+
+"My missy larnt me to spin and weave and did dis child git many a
+whuppin' 'fore I could do it good. Den she larnt me to cook and start me
+cookin' two or three days 'fore company come. Dat when us have de good
+old pound cake. De li'l chillen stand round when I bake, so as to git to
+lick de spoons and pans, and how dey pop dere lips when dey lickin' dat
+good dough!
+
+"Massa have garden seed he brung to Texas, but he didn't think it would
+grow, so he kep' it several months, but den he plants it and up it come,
+jus' like in de old states. Us used dem tomatoes for flowers, 'cause us
+thunk dem pretty red things would kill us or put de spell on us. But de
+white folks et dem and us larn to.
+
+"I was growed and have chillen 'fore de freedom war. I never did have no
+special husban' 'fore de war. I marries after de war.
+
+"My, how dem niggers could play de fiddle back in de good old days. On
+de moonlight nights, us dance by de light of de moon under a big oak
+tree, till most time to go to work next mornin'.
+
+"De fus' barb wire us ever seen, us scairt of it. Us thunk lightnin' be
+sho' to strike it. It sho' keep de stock in, though.
+
+"I seed men ridin' hosses with dead men tied 'cross dey hoss, endurin'
+de freedom war. But I can't tell much 'bout dat war, 'cause I couldn't
+read and I never git any place 'cept home at my work. I love dem days
+better dan I do dese times now, but I'm too old to 'member much.
+
+
+
+
+420086
+
+
+[Illustration: Fred Brown]
+
+
+     FRED BROWN, 84, 1414 Jones St., Fort Worth, Texas, was born a slave
+     to Mr. John Brown, who owned a plantation along the Mississippi
+     River, in Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana. Fred was eight years old
+     when the Civil War started. During the War, he and a number of
+     other slaves were taken to Kaufman Co., Texas, as refugees, by
+     Henry Bidder, an overseer. He worked five years as a laborer after
+     he was freed, then worked as a cook until 1933.
+
+
+"Sho', I has time to talk to you 'bout my life, 'cause I can't work any
+more and I has nothin' but time. It am de rhumatis' in de leg, it ketch
+me dat way, from de hip to de knee,--zip--dat pain goes!
+
+"I's bo'n in ole Louisiana, in Baton Rouge Parish, on de 16th of
+November, in 1853. I knows, 'cause massa give dis nigger a statement.
+You see, dey don' larn de niggers to read in dem days, nor figger, but I
+can read figgers. See dem on dat car? Dat am 713. Dat am bad figgers, I
+never has any truck with sich numbers as de 7 or de 13.
+
+"Massa have quite pert a plantation in Louisiana, dis side de
+Mississippi River. De slaves him own am from 40 to 50 sometimes. In our
+family am pappy, mammy and three brudders and one sister, Julia, and six
+cousins. Dat am 13 and dat's why massa had so much trouble with niggers
+runnin' 'way!
+
+"Everyone have dere certain wo'k and duties for to do. Mammy am de
+family cook and she he'p at de loom, makin' de cloth. My daddy am de
+blacksmith and shoemaker and de tanner. I 'spains how he do tannin.' He
+puts de hides in de water with black-oak bark and purty soon de hair
+come off and den he rolls and poun's de hides for to make dem soft.
+
+"When I's 'bout 8 years old, or sich, dey starts me to he'pin' in de
+yard and as I grows older I he'ps in de fields. Massa, him raises cane
+and co'n mostly, no cotton.
+
+"De buildings on de place am de resident of de massa and de quarters for
+de niggers. Dey am built from logs and de quarters has no floors and no
+windows, jus' square holes whar de windows ought to be. Dey have bunks
+for sleepin' and a table and benches, and cooks in de fireplace.
+
+"We allus have plenty for to eat, plenty co'nmeal, 'lasses and heavy,
+brown sugar. We gits flour bread once de week, but lots of butter and
+milk. For de coffee, we roasts meal bran and for de tea, de sassafras.
+Den we has veg'tables and fruit dat am raised on de place. De meat
+mostly am de wil' game, deer and de turkey, but sometimes hawg meat.
+
+"Massa have overseer and overlooker. De overseer am in charge of wo'k
+and de overlooker am in charge of de cullud women. De overseer give all
+de whippin's. Sometimes when de nigger gits late, 'stead of comin' home
+and takin' de whippin' him goes to de caves of de river and stays and
+jus' comes in night time for food. When dey do dat, de dawgs is put
+after dem and den it am de fight 'tween de nigger and de dawg. Jus' once
+a nigger kills de dawg with de knife, dat was close to freedom and it
+come 'fore dey ketches him. When dey whips for runnin' off, de nigger am
+tied down over a barrel and whipped ha'd, till dey draws blood,
+sometimes.
+
+"Dem fool niggers what sneak off without de pass, have two things for to
+watch, one is not to be ketched by de overseer and de other am de
+patter-rollers. De nigger sho' am skeert of de patters. One time my
+pappy and my mammy goes out without de pass and de patters takes after
+dem. I'se home, 'cause I's too young to be pesterin' roun'. I sees dem
+comin,' and you couldn' catched dem with a jackrabbit. One time anoudder
+nigger am runnin' from de patters and hides under de house. Dey fin' him
+and make him come out. You's seen de dawg quaver when him's col'? Well,
+dat nigger have de quaverment jus' like dat. De patters hits him five or
+six licks and lets him go. Dat nigger have lots of power--him gits to de
+quarters ahead of his shadow.
+
+"Now, I tell 'bout some good times. We is 'lowed to have parties and de
+dance and we has for music, sich as de banjo and de jew's harp and a
+'cordian. Dey dance de promenade and de jeg. Sometimes day
+have de jiggin' contest and two niggers puts a glass of water on dere
+heads and den see who can dance de longes' without spillin' any water.
+Den we has log-rollin'. Dere was two teams, 'bout three to de team, and
+dey see which can roll de log de fastes'. Den sometimes a couple am
+'lowed to git married and dere am extry fixed for supper. De couple
+steps over de broom laid en de floor, dey's married den.
+
+"Sometimes de overlooker don' let dem git married. I 'splains it dis
+way. He am used for to father de chillun. Him picks de portly, and de
+healthy women dat am to rear de portly chillen. De overlooker, he am
+portly man. Dem dat him picks he overlooks, and not 'low dem to marry or
+to go round with other nigger men. If dey do, its whippin' sho.' De
+massa raises some fine, portly chillen, and dey sel' some, after dey's
+half-grown, for $500 and sometimes more.
+
+"De war didn' make no diff'runce, dat I notices, 'cept massa and one
+overseer jines de army. Massa come back, but de overseer am captured by
+de Yankees, so massa says, and we never hears 'bout him after dat. De
+soldiers passes by lots of times, both de 'federates and de 'blue
+bellies', but we's never bothered with dem. De fightin' was not close
+enough to make trouble. Jus' 'fore freedom come, de new overseer am
+'structed to take us to Texas and takes us to Kaufman County and we is
+refugees dere. De Yankee mans tells us we am free and can do sich as we
+pleases. Dat lef' us in charge of no one and we'uns, jus' like cattle,
+wen' wanderin'.
+
+"Pappy, him goes back to Lousiana to massa's place. Dat am de las' we
+hears from him. Mammy and I goes to Henderson and I works at dis and dat
+and cares for my mammy ten years, till she dies. Den I gits jobs as cook
+in Dallas and Houston and lots of other places.
+
+"I gits married in 1901 to Ellen Tilles and I cooks till 'bout four
+years ago, till I gits de rhumatis'. Dat's all I can tell you 'bout de
+ole days.
+
+
+
+
+420096
+
+
+[Illustration: James Brown]
+
+
+     JAMES BROWN, 84, blind for the last 12 years and now living alone
+     in a shack at 408 W. Belknap, Fort Worth, Texas, was born a slave
+     of Mr. Berney in Bell Co., Texas, in 1853. While still an infant,
+     he and his mother were sold to Mr. John Blair, who farmed four
+     miles south of Waco, Texas. JAMES has no known living relatives and
+     a pension of $14.00 a month is his sole support.
+
+
+"My fust Marster was named Marster Berney. I'se don' 'member hims fust
+name nor nothin' 'bout him. I'se don' know nothin' 'bout my pappy, but
+Marster Blair told me hims name was John Brown.
+
+"Marster Blair have hims farm four miles south of Waco. We'uns lived in
+de cabins and have de fiddle and de banjoes. We'uns sing and have music
+on Sundays. Marster never whups we'uns and him was allus good to us. Him
+gives us plenty to eat, and meat, too. Hims keeps 'bout 20 hawgs dere
+all de time. De women makes de clothes and we'uns have all we need.
+
+"De fust work I does is drivin' de Marster to town. Marster have fine
+hosses. Marster have hims office in Waco and we drive dere every day.
+I'se stays all day ready to drive him home. Mos' every day hims give me
+five cents or maybe de dime. Hims was a big law man and went to de
+legislature down in Austin. His picture am in Austin, 'cause I'se down
+dere years ago and seen his picture in a case wid Gov'ner Ross' picture.
+
+"Anudder thing dat Marster does powe'ful good am trade de niggers. He
+buys and sells 'em all de time. You see, dere was traders dat traveled
+from place to place dem days and dey takes sometimes as much as 100
+niggers for to trade. Dere was sheds outside of town, whar dey keeps de
+niggers when dey comes to town.
+
+"De Marster and de trader talks dis away: 'How you trade?' 'I'se gives
+you even trade.' 'No, I'se wants $25.00 for de diff'runce.' 'I'se gives
+you $5.00.' Dat's de way dey talks on and on. Maybe dey makes de trade
+and maybe dey don'.
+
+"Dey have auction sometime and Marster allus tend 'em. At de auction
+I'se seen dem sell a family. Maybe one man buy de mammy, anudder buy de
+pappy and anudder buy all de chillens or maybe jus' one, like dat. I'se
+see dem cry like dey at de funeral when dey am parted. Dey has to drag
+'em away.
+
+"When de auction begin, he says: 'Dis nigger is so and so ole, he never
+'bused, he soun' as a dollar. Jus' look at de muscle and de big
+shoulders. He's worth a thousan' of any man's money. How much am I
+offered?' Den de biddin' starts. It goes like dis: '$200 I'se hear, does
+I'se hear $250, does I hear $300.' Den de nigger takes hims clothes--dey
+have one extry suit--and goes wid de man dat buys him.
+
+"De day befo' Marster gives we'uns freedom, he says to we'uns, 'I'se
+wants all you niggers to come to de front of de house Sunday mornin!'
+We'uns was dere and he was standin' on de gallery, holdin' a paper in
+hims han' and readin'. Dere was tears in hims eyes and some drap on de
+paper. I'se have tears in my eyes, too; mos' of 'em have. When hims done
+readin', hims says: 'You darkies is as free as I'se is. You can go or
+you can stay. Those dat stay till de crops laid by, I'se will give $5.00
+a month.'
+
+"Den he takes de little niggers and says, 'De little fellows who I'se
+have sold dere mammies will stay wid me till dey am 21 years ole. You
+little fellows, I'se know you's age and I'se give yous de statement.'
+
+"Mos' of de niggers stays wid him, but dey lef' fust one and den tudder.
+I'se stays on wid him for many years and works as coachman. When I lef'
+de Marster, 'twas to work for a farmer for one year, den I'se comes to
+Fort Worth. I'se works in lumberya'd for long time.
+
+"For de las' 12 years I'se been blin'. I'se had hard time after dat till
+de las' year but I'se gits de pension each month, dat am a heap of help.
+Dis nigger am thankful for what de Lawd have blessed me wid.
+
+
+
+
+420104
+
+
+[Illustration: Josie Brown]
+
+
+     JOSIE BROWN was born about 1859, in Victoria, Texas. She belonged
+     to George Heard. Her mother was born free, a member of the Choctaw
+     Nation, but she was stolen and sold as a slave. Josie now lives in
+     Woodville, Texas.
+
+
+"I's bo'n on Christmas day, in Victoria. Got here jus' in time for de
+eggnog! Dat 'bout 1859, 'cause I's six year ole de Christmas 'fore
+freedom. My mudder was a free bo'n Injun woman. Jus' like any ole,
+demmed Choctaw down in de woods. She was stole and sol' by a
+spec'lator's gang. Us move to Tyler when I one mont' ole.
+
+"We lib on a big farm and my mudder suckle her thirteen chillun and ole
+mistus seven. Bob, my brudder, he go to Mansfiel' and we never hear of
+him no more. He wen' with young marster, Wesley Heard. I 'member de
+mornin' dey lef', dey had to wait for him, 'cause he'd been out seein'
+his gal.
+
+"De marstar hab a big log house close to de road. De quarters was
+'cordin' to de family what live dere. De stage line through Woodville
+pass close by. I 'member sittin' on de rail fence to see de stage go by.
+Dat was a fine sight! De stage was big, rough carriage and dey was four
+or five hosses on de line. De bugle blow when dey go by, with de dus'
+behin' dem. Dey was comin' from Jasper, in Louisian', and everywhere.
+
+"When us little dey hab to keep us in de house 'cause de bald eagle pick
+up chillen jus' like de hawk pick up chicken. Dey was lots of catamoun'
+and bears and deer in de woods. Us never 'llowed play 'lone in de
+woods.
+
+"I didn' do nothin' 'cep' eat and sleep and foller ole mistus 'round.
+She giv me good clothes 'cause my mudder was de weaver. De clothes jus'
+cut out straight down and dyed with all kinds of bark. I hab to keep de
+head comb and grease with lard. De lil' white chillun play with me but
+not de udder nigger chilluns much. Us pull de long, leaf grass and plait
+it and us make rag doll and playhouse and grapevine swing. Dere's plenty
+grapes, scudlong, sour blue grape and sweet, white grape. Dey make jelly
+and wine outta dem. Dey squeeze de grapes and put de juice in a
+jimmijohn(demijohn) to fo'men'.
+
+"My mudder name was Keyia. Dat Injun. Daddy's name was Reuben. I 'member
+when I's lil' us goes visit my uncle, Major Scott. He lib in Polk County
+and he wore earring in he ears and beads and everyt'ing. He's a Injun.
+He dead now, many year.
+
+"My daddy work in de fiel'. He sow de rice and raise t'baccy. Dey have
+fiel's of it. Dey put it in de crack of de fence to press, den dey dry
+it on de barn roof. Dat was smokin' t'baccy! For de chewin' t'baccy, dey
+soak it in sugar and honey. Us never see snuff den.
+
+"On Sunday us didn' work. We has chu'ch meetin'. But dey has to have it
+in de ya'd, so de white folks could see de kin' of religion 'spounded.
+
+"I seed some bad sight in slavery, but ain' never been 'bused myself. I
+seed chillun too lil' to walk from dey mammies sol' right off de block
+in Woodville. Dey was sol' jus' like calfs. I seed niggers in han'
+locks.
+
+"After freedom dey wuk a whole year and den Major Sangers, he finally
+come and make de white folks tu'n us loose. I stay on for years, 'till
+ole mistus die. She larn me to knit and spin and sich like.
+
+"In de early day, us hab to be keerful. Dey say witches ride dey hosses
+on de da'k nights. Us allus put hossshoes over de door to keep de witch
+out. Iffen us go out at night, us go roun' de house three time so de
+witch not come in while us gone.
+
+"I's fifteen year ole when I marry. Giles Paul was from de Wes'. He was
+de fus' husban'. Us hab a real weddin' with a bride veil. My weddin'
+dress hang 'way back on de flo', and shine like silver. Dey hab big
+dance and eat supper.
+
+"My second husban' name' Robert Brown and I's mudder of ten chillun.
+'Sides dat, I raises six or seven day I pick up on de street 'cause dey
+orfums and hab nobody to care for dem. Some dem chillun drif' 'bout now
+and I wouldn' know 'em if I seed 'em!
+
+
+
+
+420211
+
+
+[Illustration: Zek Brown]
+
+
+     ZEK BROWN, 80, was born a slave of Green Brown, owner of six slave
+     families, in Warren County, Tennessee. Zek came to Texas in 1868,
+     with Sam Bragg. Zek now lives at 407 W. Bluff St., in Fort Worth,
+     Texas.
+
+
+"My name am Zek Brown and Massa Green Brown owned me. He have a
+plantation in Tennessee and own all my folks, what was my pappy and
+mammy and two sisters. I never seed any of dem since I ran 'way from
+there, when I's ten years old.
+
+"I sometimes wishes I's back on de plantation. I's took good care of
+dere and massa am awful good. Each fam'ly have dere own cabin and it
+warn't so much for niceness but we lives comfor'ble and has plenty to
+eat and wear. My mammy work de loom, makin' cloth, and us chillen wears
+linsey cloth shirts till dey gives us pants. Massa buy he fam'ly nice
+clothes but dey wears linsey clothes everyday. Same with shoes, dey am
+made on de plantation and de first store shoes I has am after surrender.
+My mammy buys me a pair with brass tips on de toe, and am I dress up
+den!
+
+"De food am bester dan what I's had since dem days. Dey raises it all
+but de salt and sich. You wouldn't 'lieve how us et den. It am ham and
+bacon, 'cause dey raises all de hawgs. It am cornmeal and some white
+flour and fruit and honey and 'lasses and brown sugar. De 'lasses am
+black as I is and dat am some black. I wishes I was dere and mammy call
+me, and I can smell dat ham fryin' right now.
+
+"Not once does I know of de massa whippin' and him don't talk rough
+even. Jus' so de work am done we does as we pleases, long as us
+reas'ble. Us have parties and dancin' and singin'. De music am de banjo
+and de fiddle.
+
+"I don't 'member when de war start but I 'member when it stop and massa
+call all us together and tell us we's no more slaves. Him talk lots
+'bout what it mean and how it am diff'rent and we'uns have to make our
+own way and can't 'pend on him like. He say if us stay dere'll be wages
+or we can share crop and everybody stay. My folks stays one year and den
+moves to 'nother he farms. Pappy keep de farm and mammy teach school.
+Her missie done larnt her to read and sich from time she a young'un, so
+she have eddication so good dey puts her to teachin'.
+
+"De way I leaves home am dis. One day mammy teachin' school and me and
+my sister am home, and I 'cides she need de haircut. She want it, too.
+So I gits de shears and goes to work and after I works a while de job
+don't look so good, so I cuts some more and den it look worse and I
+tries to fix it and first thing I knows dere ain't no hair left to cut.
+When mammy come home she pays me for de work with de rawhide whip and
+dat hurts my feelin's so bad I 'cides to git even by runnin' 'way a few
+days. It am 'bout sundown and I starts to go and comes to Massa Sam
+Bragg's place. I's tired den and not so strong 'bout de idea and 'cides
+to rest. I walks into he yard and dere am a covered wagon standin' and
+loaded with lots of stuff and de front end open. I finds de soft place
+in de back and goes to sleep, and when I wakes up it am jus' gittin'
+daylight and dat wagon am a-movin'.'
+
+"I don't say nothin'. I's skeert and waits for dat wagon to stop, so's I
+can crawl out. I jus' sits and sits and when it stop I crawls out and
+Massa Bragg say, 'Good gosh, look what am crawlin' out de wagon! He look
+at me a while and den he say, 'You's too far from home for me to take
+you back and you'll git lost if you tries to walk home. I guesses I'll
+have to take you with me.' I thinks him am goin' some place and comin'
+back, but it am to Texas him come and stop at Birdville. Dat am how dis
+nigger come to Texas.
+
+"I's often wish my mammy done whip me so hard I couldn't walk off de
+place, 'cause from den on I has mighty hard times. I stays with Massa
+Bragg four years and then I hunts for a job where I can git some wages.
+I gits it with Massa Joe Henderson, workin' on he farm and I's been
+round these parts ever since and farmed most my life.
+
+"I gits into a picklement once years ago. I's 'rested on de street. I's
+not done a thing, jus' walkin' 'long de street with 'nother fellow and
+dey claim he stole somethin'. I didn't know nothin' 'bout since. Did dey
+turn me a-loose? Dey turn me loose after six months on de chain gang. I
+works on de road three months with a ball and chain on de legs. After
+dat trouble, I sho' picks my comp'ny.
+
+"I marries onct, 'bout forty years ago, and after four years she drops
+dead with de heart mis'ry. Us have no chillen so I's alone in de world.
+It am all right long as I could work, but five years ago dis right arm
+gits to shakin' so bad I can' work no more. For a year now dey pays me
+$9.00 pension. It am hard to live on dat for a whole month, but I's glad
+to git it.
+
+
+
+
+4210129
+
+
+     MADISON BRUIN, 92, spent his early days as a slave on the Curtis
+     farm in the blue grass region of Kentucky, where he had some
+     experience with some of the fine horses for which the state is
+     famous. Here, too, he had certain contacts with soldiers of John
+     Morgan, of Confederate fame. His eyes are keen and his voice mellow
+     and low. His years have not taken a heavy toll of his vitality.
+
+
+"I's a old Kentucky man. I's born in Fayette County, 'bout five miles
+from Lexington, right where dere lots of fine hosses. My old massa was
+name Jack Curtis and de old missus was Miss Addie. My mother name Mary
+and she die in 1863 and never did see freedom. I don't 'member my daddy
+a-tall.
+
+"De place was jis' a farm, 'cause dey didn't know nothin' 'bout
+plantations up dere in Kentucky. Dey raise corn and wheat and garlic and
+fast hosses. Dey used to have big hoss races and dey had big tracks and
+I's stood in de middle of dat big track in Lexington and watch dem
+ex'cise de hosses. Sometimes I got to help dem groom some dem grand
+hosses and dat was de big day for me. I don't 'member dem hosses names,
+no, suh, but I knowed one big bay hoss what won de race nearly every
+time.
+
+"I had two sisters name Jeanette and Fanny and a brother, Henry, and
+after my daddy die, my mother marries a man name Paris and I had one
+half-brother call Alfred Paris.
+
+"Old massa was good to us and give us plenty food. He never beat us
+hard. He had a son what jis' one month older'n me and we run 'round and
+play lots. Old massa, he whip me and he own son jis' de same when we
+bad. He didn't whip us no more'n he ought to, though. Dey was good
+massas and some mean ones, and some worthless cullud folks, too.
+
+"Durin' de war de cholera broke out 'mongst de people and everybody
+scairt dey gwine cotch it. Dey say it start with de hurtin' in de
+stomach and every time us hurt in de stomach, missus make us come quick
+to de big house. Dat suit us jis' right and when dey sends Will and me
+to hoe or do somethin' us didn't want to do, pretty soon I say, 'Willie,
+I think my stomach 'ginnin to hurt. I think dis mis'ry a sign I gittin'
+de cholera.' Den him say, 'Us better go to de big house like ma say,'
+and with dat, us quit workin'. Us git out lots of work dat way, but us
+ain't ever took de cholera yit.
+
+"Durin' de war John Morgan's men come and took all de hosses. Dey left
+two and Willie and me took dem to hide in de plum thicket, but us jis'
+git out de gate when de sojers come 'gain and dey head us off and take
+de last two hosses.
+
+"My mother she wore de Yankee flag under her dress like a petticoat when
+de 'federates come raidin'. Other times she wore it top de dress. When
+dey hears de 'federates comin' de white folks makes us bury all de gold
+and de silver spoons out in de garden. Old massa, he in de Yankee army,
+'cause dey 'script him, but he sons, John and Joe, dey volunteers.
+
+"Old massa he never sold none of he slaves. I used to hear him and
+missus fussin' 'bout de niggers, 'cause some 'long to her and some to
+him and dey have de time keepin' dem straighten' out.
+
+Us boys have good time playin'. Us draw de line and some git on one side
+and some de other. Den one sing out
+
+"'Chickama, Chickama, craney crow,
+  Went to de well to wash my toe;
+  When I git back my chicken was gone,
+      What time, old witch?'
+
+"Den somebody holler out, 'One o'clock' or 'Two o'clock' or any time,
+and dem on one side try to cotch dem on de other side.
+
+"When I's young I didn't mind plowin', but I didn't like to ride at
+fust, but dey make me larn anyhow. Course, dat white boy and me, us like
+most anything what not too much work. Us go down to de watermelon patch
+and plug dem melons, den us run hide in de woods and eat watermelon.
+Course, dey lots of time dey 'low us to play jis' by ourselves. Us play
+one game where us choose sides and den sing:
+
+"'Can, can, candio,
+  Old man Dandio,
+  How many men you got?
+  More'n you're able to cotch.'
+
+"Endurin' de war us git whip many a time for playin' with shells what us
+find in de woods. Us heered de cannons shootin' in Lexington and lots of
+dem shells drap in de woods.
+
+"What did I think when I seed all dem sojers? I wants to be one, too. I
+didn't care what side, I jis' wants a gun and a hoss and be a sojer.
+John Morgan, he used to own de hemp factory in Lexington. When young
+massa jine Woolford's 11th Kentucky Cavalry, dey come to de place and
+halt befo' de big house in de turnpike. Dey have shotguns and blind
+bridles on dere hosses, not open bridle like on de race hosses. Dey jis'
+in reg'lar clothes but next time dey come through dey in blue uniforms.
+All my white folks come back from de war and didn't git kilt. Nobody
+ever telt me I's free. I's happy dere and never left dem till 1872. All
+de others gone befo' dat, but I gits all I wants and I didn't need no
+money. I didn't know what paper money was and one time massa's son give
+me a paper dime to git some squab and I didn't know what money was and I
+burned it up.
+
+"Dey's jis' one thing I like to do most and dat's eat. Dey allus had
+plenty of everything and dey had a big, wooden tray, or trough and dey
+put potlicker and cornbread in dat trough and set it under de big locust
+tree and all us li'l niggers jis' set 'round and eat and eat. Jis' eat
+all us wants. Den when us git full us fall over and go to sleep. Us jis'
+git fat and lazy. When us see dat bowl comin', dat bowl call us jis'
+like hawgs runnin' to de trough.
+
+"Dey was great on gingerbread and us go for dat. Dey couldn't leave it
+in de kitchen or de pantry so old missus git a big tin box and hide de
+gingerbread under her bed and kept de switch on us to keep us 'way from
+it. But sometime us sneak up in de bedroom and git some, even den.
+
+"When I 'bout 17 I left Kentucky and goes to Indiana and white folks
+sends me to school to larn readin' and writin', but I got tired of dat
+and run off and jine de army. Dat in 1876 and dey sends me to Arizona.
+After dat I's at Fort Sill in what used to be Indian Territory and den
+at Fort Clark and Fort Davis, dat in Garfield's 'ministration, den in
+Fort Quitman on de Rio Grande. I's in skirmishes with de Indians on
+Devil's River and in de Brazos Canyon, and in de Rattlesnake Range and
+in de Guadalupe Mountains. De troops was de Eighth Cavalry and de Tenth
+Infantry. De white and de cullud folks was altogether and I have three
+hosses in de cavalry. De fust one plays out, de next one shot down on
+campaign and one was condemn. On dat campaign us have de White Mountain
+'paches with us for scouts.
+
+"When I git discharge' from de Army I come to Texas and work on de S.P.
+Railroad and I been in Texas ever since, and when I's in Dallas I got
+'flicted and got de pension 'cause I been in de army. I ain't done much
+work in ten year.
+
+"I gits married in San Antonio on December 14, 1882 and I marries Dolly
+Gross and dat her right dere. Us have de nice weddin', plenty to eat and
+drink. Us have only one chile, a gal, and she dead, but us 'dopt sev'ral
+chillen.
+
+"Us come to Beaumont in 1903 and I works 'round Spindletop and I works
+for de gas people and de waterworks people. I's been a carpenter and
+done lots of common work wherever I could find it.
+
+"It's been long time since slavery and I's old, but me and my old lady's
+in good health and us manage to git 'long fairly well. Dat's 'bout all I
+can 'member 'bout de old times.
+
+
+
+
+420236
+
+
+[Illustration: Martha Spence Bunton]
+
+
+     MARTHA SPENCE BUNTON, 81, was born a slave, Jan. 1, 1856, on the
+     John Bell plantation, in Murphfreesboro, Tennessee. Mr. Bell sold
+     Martha, her mother and four sisters to Joseph Spence, who brought
+     them to Texas. Martha married Andy Bunton in 1880, and they had
+     nine children. Martha now lives with her sister, Susan, on twelve
+     acres of land which their father bought for $25.00 an acre. The
+     farm is picturesquely located on a thickly wooded hill about six
+     miles east of Austin, Texas.
+
+
+"I was born on New Year's Day. Yes, suh, in 1856, on Massa Bell's
+plantation over in Tennessee. De name of de town was Murphreesboro, and
+my mammy and my four sisters and me all 'longed to Massa John Bell, but
+he done sold us to Massa Joseph Spence, and dat how I come by my name.
+
+"I 'members how Massa Spence brung us to Texas in wagons, and the way we
+knowed when we hit Texas am 'cause massa 'gin to talk 'bout a norther.
+When dat norther done strike, all de weeds and leaves jus' starts
+rollin'. Us poor, ig'rant niggers thunk at first dey was rabbits, 'cause
+we'd never seed a rabbit den. Massa Spence rid his hoss and Missie
+Spence come 'long in de richer way, in a coach. De chillen walked
+mornin's and de older folks walked afternoons.
+
+"Massa Spence come to Montopolis, right nigh to Austin, and settled
+down. I helped carry dinner pails to de field workers, and dey was full
+of meat and cabbage and biscuit. Pappy wasn't dere then, 'cause he was
+own by Massa Burrows, over in Tennessee. But when his massa died, my
+massa bought pappy and he come out to Texas. Befo' I's a sizeable child,
+mammy took sick with diphtheria and died and pappy had to be mammy and
+pappy to us. Pappy was a big-bodied man and on Sunday mornin' he'd git
+out of bed and make a big fire and say, 'Jiminy cripes! You chillen stay
+in you beds and I'll make de biscuits.' He would, too. I laughs when I
+thinks 'bout dem big, rye biscuits, what was so big we called dem
+'Nigger heels.' Dey sho' was big biscuits, but dey was good. We never
+did git no butter, though, and sometimes we'd ask the white chillen to
+give us a piece of biscuit with butter on it. We got plenty other
+eats--sliced meat and roastin' ears and sweet milk.
+
+"After freedom pappy sent us to school to de white teacher, and dat's
+why I can read and write. I went to de sixth grade and quit. Pappy was
+drinkin' a lot then. He'd take alcohol and mix it with 'lasses and
+water. But he was good to us. Sometimes a Texas norther come up and we'd
+be on the way home and we'd see something comin' what look like a
+elephant and it was pappy, with a bundle of coats.
+
+"I was twenty-four years old when I married Andy Bunton and he jes'
+rented farms here and yonder. We had a big weddin' and pork and turkey
+and cake. Aunt Lucy Hubbard, what weighed three hundred pounds, done de
+cookin' dat day. We had such a good time nobody knowed when one de
+guests stole a whole turkey.
+
+"I was mother of nine chillen and three of dem is livin' now. Andy made
+a purty good livin till he had a paral'sis stroke. Poor old feller! In
+de end, I took care of him and had to work like I was young again. I cut
+wood and carried water and washed and cooked. I had to feed him.
+
+"I owns my place here. It am twelve acres and pappy bought it long ago
+for $25.00 de acre. My sister lives here too, and my son, Howard, comes
+home sometimes, but he's got eight houn' dogs he can't feed. I sho'
+can't feed dem on dat $11.00 pension what I gits.
+
+
+
+
+420080
+
+
+[Illustration: Ellen Butler]
+
+
+     ELLEN BUTLER was born a slave to Richmond Butler, near Whiska
+     Chitto, in the northern part of Calcasieu Parish (now a part of
+     Beauregard Parish), in Louisiana. Ellen is about 78 years old. She
+     now lives in Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"My old massa was name Richmond Butler and he used to have a big
+plantation over on Whiska Chitto, in Louisiana, and that's where I was
+born. They used to call the place Bagdad. I was his slave till I six
+year old and then freedom come.
+
+"I don't 'member my daddy, but my mammy was name Dicey Ann Butler. I
+have seven sister and three brudder, and they was Anderson and Charlie
+and Willie, and the girls was Laura and Rosa and Rachel and Fannie and
+Adeline and Sottie and Nora.
+
+"Us used to live in a li'l log house with one room. The floor was dirt
+and the house was make jus' like they used to make 'tater house. They
+was a little window in the back. When I was a baby they wrop me up in
+cotton and put me in a coffee pot--that how li'l I was. But I grows to
+be more sizable.
+
+"The plantation were a good, big place and they have 'bout 200 head of
+niggers. When I gets big enough they start me to totin' water to the
+field. I gits the water out the spring and totes it in gourds. They cut
+the gourds so that a strip was left round and cross the top and that the
+handle. They was about a foot 'cross and a foot deep. Us used to have
+one good gourd us kep' lard in and li'l gourds to drink out of.
+
+"Massa never 'lowed us slaves go to church but they have big holes in
+the fields they gits down in and prays. They done that way 'cause the
+white folks didn't want them to pray. They used to pray for freedom.
+
+"When the white folks go off they writes on the meal and flour with they
+fingers. That the way they know if us steal meal. Sometime they take a
+stick and write in front of the door so if anybody go out they step on
+that writin' and the massa know. That the way us larn how to write.
+
+"Old massa didn't give 'em much to eat. When they comes in out of the
+field they goes work for other folks for something to eat.
+
+"They jus' have a old frame with planks to sleep on and no mattress or
+nothin'. In winter they have to keep the fire goin' all night to keep
+from freezin'. They put a old quilt down on the floor for the li'l
+folks. They have a li'l trough us used to eat out of with a li'l wooden
+paddle. Us didn't know nothin' 'bout knives and forks.
+
+"I never did git nothin' much to eat. My sister she de cook and sometime
+when the white folks gone us go up to the big house and she give us
+somethin'. But she make us wash the mouth after us finish eatin', so
+they won't be no crumbs in our mouth.
+
+"Massa used to beat 'em all the time. My brudder tell old massa sometime
+he git hongry and gwine have to come ask de niggers for somethin' to
+eat. He say he never do that, but he did, 'cause after freedom he go to
+West Texas and some niggers with him and he los' everything and, sho'
+'nough, old massa have to go to my brudder and ask him for food and a
+shelter to sleep under. Then he say if he had it to do over, he
+wouldn't treat the hands so bad.
+
+"One time my brudder slip off de plantation and they almost beat him to
+death. He told 'em he had to do somethin' to git somethin' to eat. They
+used to put 'em 'cross a log or barrel to beat 'em. My mammy had a strop
+'bout eight inch wide they used to beat 'em with.
+
+"Most clothes what we git is from the Iles, what was rich folks and
+lives close by. They folks lives in DeRidder, in Louisiana, I hears.
+They treated the slaves like white folks.
+
+"On Christmas time they give us a meal. I 'member that. I don't 'member
+no other holidays.
+
+"When us git sick us go to the woods and git herbs and roots and make
+tea and medicine. We used to git Blackhaw root and cherry bark and
+dogwood and chinquapin bark, what make good tonic. Black snakeroot and
+swamproot make good medicine, too.
+
+"My mammy told us we was free and we starts right off and walks to
+Sugartown, 'bout 8 mile away. I 'member my brudder wades 'cross a pool
+totin' me.
+
+"I used to nuss Dr. Frasier. He used to be the high sheriff in
+DeRidder.
+
+
+
+
+420182
+
+
+     HENRY H. BUTTLER, 87, venerable graduate of Washburn College,
+     Topeka, Kansas, and ex-school teacher, was born a slave to Mr.
+     George Sullivan on his 300 acre plantation in Farquier Co.,
+     Virginia. Henry and a number of other slaves were transported to
+     Arkansas in 1863, and Henry escaped and joined the Union Army. He
+     now lives at 1308 E. Bessie St., Fort Worth, Texas.
+
+
+"My name is Henry H. Buttler and I am past 87 years of age. That figure
+may not be accurate, but you must realize that there were no authentic
+records made of slave births. I estimate my age on the work I was doing
+at the commencement of the Civil War and the fact that I was large
+enough to be accepted as a soldier in the Union Army, in the year of
+1864.
+
+"I was born on the plantation of George Sullivan, in Farquier Co.,
+Virginia. The plantation was situated in the valley at the base of Bull
+Mountain, and presented a beautiful picture. The plantation consisted of
+about 30 acres, with about 30 slaves, though this number varied and
+sometimes reached 50. Mr. Sullivan owned my mother and her children, but
+my father was owned by Mr. John Rector, whose place was adjacent to
+ours.
+
+"The slave quarters consisted of a group of one-room log cabins, with no
+flooring, and very crude furnishings. There were bunks and benches and a
+table and the fireplace provided the means for cooking and heating.
+
+"The food was wholesome and of sufficient quantity. In that period about
+all the food was produced and processed on the plantation, which
+eliminated any reason for failure to provide ample food. The meat was
+home cured and the ham and bacon had a superior flavor.
+
+"On the Sullivan place there existed consideration for human feelings
+but on the Rector place neither the master nor the overseer seemed to
+understand that slaves were human beings. One old slave called Jim, on
+the Rector place, disobeyed some rule and early one morning they ordered
+him to strip. They tied him to the whipping post and from morning until
+noon, at intervals, the lash was applied to his back. I, myself, saw and
+heard many of the lashes and his cries for mercy.
+
+"One morning a number of slaves were ordered to lay a fence row on the
+Rector place. The overseer said, 'This row must be laid to the Branch
+and left in time to roll those logs out in the back woods.' It was
+sundown when we laid the last rail but the overseer put us to rolling
+logs without any supper and it was eleven when we completed the task.
+Old Pete, the ox driver, became so exhausted that he fell asleep without
+unyoking the oxen. For that, he was given 100 lashes.
+
+"The slaves were allowed to marry but were compelled to first obtain
+permission from the master. The main factor involved in securing the
+master's consent was his desire to rear negroes with perfect physiques.
+On neither plantation was there any thought or compassion when a sale or
+trade was in question. I have seen the separation of husband and wife,
+child and mother, and the extreme grief of those involved, and the lash
+administered to a grieving slave for neglecting their work. All this
+made the marriages a farce.
+
+"In 1863 Mr. Sullivan transported about 40 of us slaves to Arkansas,
+locating us on a farm near Pine Bluff, so we would not be taken by the
+Federal soldiers. The general faithfulness of the slave was noticeable
+then, as they had a chance to desert and go to free states. But I think
+I was the only one who deserted Mr. Sullivan. I went to Federal
+Headquarters at Fort Smith, Arkansas, and was received into the army. We
+campaigned in Arkansas and nearby territory. The major battle I fought
+in was that of Pine Bluff, which lasted one day and part of one night.
+
+"After I was mustered out of the army, I set out to get an education and
+entered a grade school at Pine Bluff. I worked after school at any job I
+could secure and managed to enter Washburn College, in Topeka, Kansas.
+After I graduated I followed steam engineering for four years, but later
+I went to Fort Worth and spent 22 years in educational work among my
+people. I exerted my best efforts to advance my race.
+
+"I married Lucia Brown in 1880 and we had three children, all of whom
+are dead. There is just my wife and me left of the family, and we have a
+$75.00 per month Union soldier's pension.
+
+
+
+
+420283
+
+
+     WILLIAM BYRD, 97, was born a slave of Sam Byrd, near Madisonville,
+     Texas. William was with his master during the Civil War. The old
+     Negro is very feeble, but enjoyed talking about old times. He lives
+     in Madisonville.
+
+
+"I has a bill of sale what say I's born in 1840, so I knows I's
+ninety-seven years old, and I's owned by Marse Sam Byrd. My mother's
+name was Fannie and I dunno pappy's name, 'cause my mother allus say she
+found me a stray in the woods. I allus 'lieves my master was my pappy,
+but I never did know for sho'.
+
+"Our quarters was log and the bed built with poles stuck in the cracks
+and cowhide stretched over, and we'd gather moss 'bout once a month and
+make it soft. When it was real cold we'd git close together and I don't
+care how cold it got, we'd sleep jes' as warm as these here feather
+beds.
+
+"I split rails and chopped cotton and plowed with a wooden plow and druv
+Marse Byrd lots, 'cause he was a trader, slave trade most the time. He
+was good to us and give us lots to eat. He had a big garden and plenty
+sugar cane, and brown sugar. We'd press the juice out the cane 'tween
+two logs and cook it in the big washpot.
+
+"We had sheepskin clothes in cold weather, with the fur part inside, no
+shoes less'n we wropped our feet in fur hides. But them clothes was
+warmer than these here cotton overalls. They're plumb cold!
+
+Marse Sam was full of life and Missus Josie was real good. They had a
+nice home of that day, made out split logs and four rooms and a hall two
+ways through it.
+
+"That great iron piece hung jes' outside the door and Marse Sam hit it
+at 3:30 every mornin'. If we didn't muster out he come round with that
+cat-o-nine-tails and let us have it, and we knowed what that bell was
+for nex' mornin'. Sometimes when Marse Sam was gone, we'd have a
+overseer. He'd let us go swimmin' in the creek when the work was done.
+
+"If a nigger was mean Marse Sam give him fifty licks over a log the
+first time and seventy-five licks the second time and 'bout that time he
+most gen'rally had a good nigger. If they was real mean and he couldn't
+do nothin' with 'em, he put them in the jail with a chain on the feets
+for three days, and fed 'em through a crack in the wall.
+
+"On Christmas Marse Sam had a great big eggnog and kilt a big beef and
+had fireworks, and the nigger, he know Christmas was come. We had plenty
+to eat and eggnog and did 'bout what we pleased that day and New Year's.
+The white folks allus said what we'd do on them days we'd do all year.
+That's all foolishment, but some still believes in it.
+
+"They give a big dance and all night supper when war started. Then Marse
+Sam, he carries me for waterboy and cook and to tend his hosses. He had
+two, and rid one this day and the other nex' day. He was 'fraid one git
+kilt and then he wouldn't be slam a-foot.
+
+"When them big guns went to poppin', I jes' couldn't stand it without
+gittin' in a brush top. Then marse goes and gits shot and I has to be
+his nuss. But, Lawd-a-me, one them Yankee gals, she falls in love with
+marse whilst he lays nearly dead, and she say, 'William, he's mine, so
+you got to take good care of him.' And him with a plumb good wife back
+home!
+
+"When Marse Sam git well, he say he's goin' to 'nother place to fight.
+He was with General Lee when that old war was over and that there Yankee
+General Grant takes General Lee prisoner, and Marse Sam won't leave his
+general, and he say to me, 'William, you got to go home alone.'
+
+"I lights out a-foot to Texas and it's most a year befo' I gits home. I
+travels day and night at first. I buys some things to eat but every time
+I goes by a farmhouse I steals a chicken. Sometimes I sho' gits hongry.
+When I git to the house, Missus Josie faints, 'cause she thunk Marse Sam
+ain't with me and he mus' be dead. I tells her he's in prison and she
+say she'll give me $2.00 a month to stay till he gits back. I's plumb
+crazy 'bout a little gal called 'Cricket,' 'cause she so pert and full
+of live, so I stays. We gits us a cabin and that's all to our weddin'.
+We stays a year befo' Marse Sam comes back.
+
+"He was the plumb awfulest sight you ever done seed! His clothes is tore
+offen his body and he ain't shaved in three months and he's mos' starved
+to death. Missus Josie she don't even rec'nize him and wouldn't 'low him
+in till I tells her dat am Marse Sam, all right. He stays sick a whole
+year.
+
+"I thinks if them Yankees didn't 'tend to fix some way for us pore
+niggers, dey oughtn't turn us a-loose. Iffen de white folks in de South
+hadn't been jes' what they is, us niggers been lots worser off than we
+was. In slavery time when the nigger am sick, his master pay de bills,
+but when nigger sick now, that's his own lookout.
+
+"I never done nothin' but farm and odd jobs. I been married five times,
+but only my las' wife am livin' now. My four boys and two gals is all
+farmin' right here in the county and they helps us out. We gits by
+somehow.
+
+
+
+
+420277
+
+
+     LOUIS CAIN, 88, was born in North Carolina, a slave of Samuel Cain.
+     After Louis was freed, he came to Texas, and has farmed near
+     Madisonville over sixty years.
+
+
+"I knows I's birthed in 1849, 'cause I had a bill of sale. It say that.
+My master traded me to Massa Joe Cutt for a hundred acres of land.
+That's in 1861, and I 'members it well. My daddy was Sam Cain, name
+after old Massa Cain, and mammy was Josie Jones, 'cause she owned by
+'nother master. Mammy was birthed in North Carolina, but daddy allus say
+he come from Africy. He say they didn't work hard over there, 'cause all
+they et come out the jungle, and they had all the wives they wanted.
+That was the 'ligion over there.
+
+"Our quarters was made of logs, in a long shed six rooms long, like
+cowsheds or chicken houses, and one door to each room. The bed was a
+hole dug in a corner and poles around and shucks and straw. We'd sleep
+warm all night long, but it wouldn't do in this country in summertime.
+
+"Massa give us plenty to eat. Our cornbread was what you calls water
+pone bread and cooked in the ashes. We didn't have no stove. Massa was a
+great hunter and allus had venison and game. They was plenty fish, too.
+
+"Massa Cain was purty good to his slaves and mean to them if they didn't
+behave. Missy was a good woman. They lived in a two-story rock house
+with plenty trees all 'round.
+
+"We worked long as we could see, from four o'clock in the mornin', and
+them milked twenty cows and fed the work stock. They was fifty acres and
+not 'nough niggers to work it easy.
+
+"If some niggers was mean they'd git it. Massa tied they hands to they
+feet and tied them to a tree and hit 'bout twenty-five or fifty licks
+with a rawhide belt. Hide and blood flew then. Next mornin' he'd turn
+them loose and they'd have to work all day without nothin' to eat. He
+had a cabin called jail for the nigger women, and chain them in with
+cornbread and one glass of water.
+
+"One nigger run to the woods to be a jungle nigger, but massa cotched
+him with the dogs and took a hot iron and brands him. Then he put a bell
+on him, in a wooden frame what slip over the shoulders and under the
+arms. He made that nigger wear the bell a year and took it off on
+Christmas for a present to him. It sho' did make a good nigger out of
+him.
+
+"In the summer time they had camp meetin' and baptized in the creek,
+white folks first while the old nigger mammies shouts, and then the
+niggers.
+
+"On Saturday mornin' us men grated corn for bread the next week and the
+women washed massa's clothes and our'n. On Saturday night we'd have a
+dance all night long, and Sunday the men went to see they wives or
+sweethearts and us young'uns went swimmin' in the creek. Every night but
+Saturday we had to go to bed at nine o'clock. Massa hit the big steel
+piece and we knowed it was time to put out the torches and pile in.
+
+"On Christmas I'd stand by the gate, to open it for the company, and
+they'd throw nuts and candy to me. That night all the slaves what could
+brung they banjoes and fiddles and played for the white folks to dance
+all night. Them great old days are done gone. Most the men be full that
+good, old eggnog.
+
+"After war come they ain't no more dances and fun, and not much to eat
+or nothin'. Massa git kilt in a big battle and missy took four slaves
+and brung him home and buried him under a big shade tree in the yard.
+That the saddes' time I ever seen, nobody there to do anythin' but missy
+and neighbor women and some real young niggers like me. She was cryin'
+and all us slaves takin' on. It's a wonder we ever did git massa buried.
+We carried him on our backs to the grave.
+
+"After that we had to carry missy to the mountains and hide her, 'cause
+everything, house and sheds and all, was burnt, and all her stock kilt
+by sojers and outlaws. When she come out of hidin' she didn't have a
+thing, not even a bed.
+
+"But she was a brave woman, and said, 'Louis, we'll fix some kind of
+quarters for you.' She went to work to rebuild the place. She said, 'You
+niggers is free, but I need you and I'll pay you $2.00 a month.' She
+did, too. She cut some logs and builded her one room and then we all
+build us a room and that was the best we could do. I 'lieve the Lawd
+blessed that woman. After freedom, that's how I lived the first year,
+and she paid me every cent she promised. I stayed with her three years.
+
+"Then I heared of a railroad job in Texas, and married Josie Sewel in a
+big weddin' and we had a great time. I gits a job on that railroad for
+fifty cents a day and it never lasted more'n a year, so I goes to
+farmin'.
+
+"We had fourteen chillun, four dead now, and the rest farmin' all over
+Texas. I has more'n a hundred grandchillun. Josie, she done die twenty
+years ago.
+
+"I don't know as I 'spected massa's land to be 'vided and give us, but
+they was plenty of land for everybody, and missy allus treated us right.
+Wages was terrible small for a long time after I married and sometimes
+they wouldn't pay us, and we had to beg or steal. I's went a whole two
+days without nothin' to eat. If it hadn't been for them there Klu Klux,
+sometimes the niggers would have went on the warpath for starvin'. But
+the Klu Kluxers wouldn't let 'em roam none, if they tried they stretch
+them out over a log and hit them with rawhide, but never say a word.
+That was got the niggers--they was so silent, not a sound out of them,
+and the nigger he can't stand that.
+
+"I gits a pension and works when I can and gits by. Some the young
+niggers is purty sorry, they's had so much and don't 'preciate none of
+it. I's glad for what I can git, 'cause I 'members them old times after
+the war when it was worse'n now.
+
+
+
+
+420178
+
+
+     JEFF CALHOUN, about 98, was born a slave of the Calhoun family, in
+     Alton, Alabama. After his master died, a son-in-law, Jim Robinson,
+     brought Jeff and 200 other slaves to Austin, Texas. Jeff was 22
+     when the Civil War began. He stayed with his old master, who had
+     moved to Stewart Mills Texas, after he was freed, and raised 23
+     children. He says, "I 'spect I has near a thous- children,
+     grandchildren and great grandchildren." He makes his home among
+     them, drifting over five states when and as he wishes.
+
+
+"My name am Jeff Calhoun and I was born in Alton, in Alabama, about
+1838, 'cause I's told by my massa. Dat makes me 'bout 98 year old now.
+My father was Henry Robinson and my mammy, she Mary Robinson. She was
+born in Maryland, in Virginia, but didn't know much 'bout her folks,
+'cause she was sold off young. Dere was four of us brothers and ten
+sisters, but dey all dead now but me.
+
+"We makes our beds out of forked saplings drove in the ground, 'cause de
+floors was dirt. We sets de pole in dat ground and it run to de top of
+de cabin and we makes one bed down low and one bed above. De big folks
+sleeps in de low beds and de chillun above, 'cause dey can climb.
+
+"My massa had 15 chillun and my mamma suckled every one of dem, 'cause
+his wife was no good to give milk.
+
+"We allus had lots to eat, but for meat we has to go to de woods and git
+deer and turkey and buffalo and some bear. I have eat hoss and skunk and
+crow and hawk.
+
+"We has a big fire to cook on, and to make de corn cakes we put one leaf
+down and put batter on dat and put another leaf over it and cover with
+hot ashes and by noon it was done. Same thing for supper. We never have
+biscuits 'cept on Sunday or Christmas.
+
+"My mama was de spinner so I has plenty shirts and some britches, and we
+raises indigo on de place and makes dye of it. We never wore no shoes in
+de summer and some winters neither. We has a good pair of pants and
+shirt we wears Sundays and holidays and was married in.
+
+"De way dey done at weddings dem days, you picks out a girl and tell
+your boss. If she was from another plantation you had to git her bosses
+'mission and den dey tells you to come up dat night and git hitched up.
+They says to de girl, 'You's love dis man?' Dey says to de man, 'You
+loves dis girl?' If you say you don't know, it's all off, but if you say
+yes, dey brings in de broom and holds it 'bout a foot off de floor and
+say to you to jump over. Den he says you's married. If either of you
+stumps you toe on de broom, dat mean you got trouble comin' 'tween you,
+so you sho' jumps high.
+
+"My massa was good to us. He lived in a log house with a floor and was
+all fixed up with pretty furniture and mirrors and silver on de table.
+De missus was little and frail, but she was good to us and so was de
+massa. He wasn't no hand to whip like some of he neighbors. Dey would
+tied de slaves' hands to a pole and whip de blood out of them. Dey was
+whipped for runnin' away.
+
+"I knowed a slave call Ben Bradley and he was sold on de auction block
+and his massa chained him hand and foot and started for Texas. Dey got
+to de Red River and was crossin' and de chains helt him down and he
+never came up. And I have a uncle what run off and dey took a pack of
+hounds--a pack were twelve--and dey got on his trail and I heared dem
+runnin' him. Dey run him three days and nights and took a gun loaded
+with buck shot but was sposed not to shoot above de legs. Dey come back
+and said he got away, but some boys was out huntin' and finds him and he
+been shot four times with buck shot.
+
+"De only time we got to rest was Sunday and de fourth of July and
+Christmas, and one day Thanksgiving. We got de big dinners on holidays.
+After supper was have corn shuckings, or on rainy days, and sometimes we
+shucks 500 bushels. We allus picked de cotton in big baskets, and when
+we gits it all picked we spreads on big and has a celebration.
+
+"I was in Texas when de war broke out and I hauls corn lots of times to
+de gin where was de soldier camp, and I helped cook awhile and would
+have been in de battle of Vicksburg only dey takes another man 'stead of
+me and he gits kilt. I's glad I's a sorry cook, or I'd got kilt 'stead
+of him.
+
+
+
+
+420262
+
+
+[Illustration: Simp Campbell]
+
+
+     SIMP CAMPBELL was born January 1860, in Harrison County, Texas, He
+     belonged to W.L. Sloan and stayed with him until 1883, when Simp
+     married and moved to Marshall. He and his wife live in Gregg
+     Addition, Marshall, Texas, and Simp works as porter for a loan
+     company.
+
+
+"My name is Simpson Campbell, but everybody, white and black, calls me
+Simp. I's born right here in Harrison County, on Bill Sloan's place,
+nine miles northwest of Marshall. I got in on the last five years of
+slavery.
+
+"Pappy was Lewis Campbell, and he was sold by the Florida Campbells to
+Marse Sloan and fotched to Texas, but he allus kep' the Campbell name.
+Mammy was Mariah and the Sloans brung her out of South Carolina. She
+raised a passel of chillen. Besides me there was Flint, Albert and
+Clinton of the boys, and--let me count--Dinah, Clandy, Mary, Lula, Liza,
+Hannah, Matilda and Millie of the girls.
+
+"The Sloans lived in a big house, but it wasn't no shanty. They was
+fixed 'bout as good as anybody in the county and driv as good hosses and
+rigs as anybody. They wasn't a mean streak in the whole Sloan family.
+
+"The slave quarters sot in rows right down in the field from the big
+house. They had beds made to the wall, and all the cookin' was on the
+fireplace. We raised all our meat and corn and garden truck right there
+on the place and Marse Sloan brung wheat and other rations from
+Shreveport. The nigger women spinned all the cloth and pappy made shoes
+by hand, when they kilt a beef. The beef was dried and jetted and hung
+in the smokehouse.
+
+"Marse's place civered a thousand acres and he had over a hunderd
+slaves, with a overseer, Johnson, and a nigger driver. Us niggers was
+treated well but the overseer had order to whip us for fightin'. If the
+nigger driver hit too many licks, the overseer sold him off the place.
+
+"We worked from four till six and done a task after that, and sot round
+and talked till nine and then had to go to bed. On Saturday night you'd
+hear them fiddles and banjoes playin' and the niggers singin'. All them
+music gadgets was homemade. The banjoes was made of round pieces of
+wood, civered with sheepskin and strung with catgut strings.
+
+"They wasn't no school but Marse Bill larnt some his niggers readin' and
+writin' so we could use them bookin' cotton in the field and sich like.
+They was a church on the Sloan place and white preachers done most the
+'xhorting. Mammy allus say the cullud preachers had to preach what
+they's told--obey you master and missus.
+
+"I seed Yankee sojers and wagons comin' home from Mansfield. Marse Tom
+sot us free right after surrender, but my folks stayed on with him till
+he died, in 1906. I lef when I's twenty-three and marries and made a
+livin' from public work in Marshall all my life. I worked as day laborer
+and raised two boys and two girls and the boys is farmin' right here in
+the county and doin' well.
+
+"When I's eighteen they got up a 'mendment to the Constitution and got
+out a "People's Party Ticket." It was a Democratic ticket and control by
+Southerners. They told us niggers if we'd vote that ticket we'd be
+rec'nized as white folks, but I didn't 'lieve a word of it. Old Man
+Sloan told all his niggers that and they all voted that ticket but
+two--that was Charley Tang and Simp Campbell.
+
+"I 'lieve the young race of our people is progressin' fine. If they had
+priv'lege to use they educations, they'd make more progress, but the
+color line holds them back.
+
+
+
+
+420106
+
+
+[Illustration: James Cape]
+
+
+     JAMES CAPE, centenarian, now living in a dilapidated little shack
+     in the rear of the stockyards in Fort Worth, Texas, was born a
+     slave to Mr. Bob Houston, who owned a large ranch in southeast
+     Texas. James' parents came direct from Africa into slavery. James
+     spent his youth as a cowboy, fought in the Confederate army, was
+     wounded and has an ugly shoulder scar. After the war, James
+     unknowingly took a job with the outlaw, Jesse James, for whom he
+     worked three years, in Missouri. He then came back to Texas, and
+     worked in the stockyards until 1928. Documentary proof of James'
+     age is lacking, but various facts told him by his parents and
+     others lead him to think he must be over 100 years old.
+
+
+"I's bo'n in yonder southeast Texas and I don' know what month or de
+year for sho', but 'twas more dan 100 years ago. My mammy and pappy was
+bo'n in Africa, dats what dey's tol' me. Dey was owned by Marster Bob
+Houston and him had de ranch down dere, whar dey have cattle and hosses.
+
+"When I's old 'nough to set on de hoss, dey larned me to ride, tendin'
+hosses. 'Cause I's good hoss rider, dey uses me all de time gwine after
+hosses. I goes with dem to Mexico. We crosses de river lots of times. I
+'members once when we was a drivin' 'bout 200 hosses north'ards. Dey was
+a bad hail storm comes into de face of de herd and dat herd turns and
+starts de other way. Dere was five of us riders and we had to keep dem
+hosses from scatterment. I was de leader and do you know what happens to
+dis nigger if my hoss stumbles? Right dere's whar I'd still be! Marster
+give me a new saddle for savin' de hosses.
+
+"One day Marster Bob comes to me and says, 'Jim, how you like to jine de
+army?' You see, de war had started. I says to him, 'What does I have to
+do?' And he says, 'Tend hosses and ride 'em.' I was young den and
+thought it would be lots of fun, so I says I'd go. So de first thing I
+knows, I's in de army away off east from here, somewhar dis side of St.
+Louis and in Tennessee and Arkansas and other places. I goes in de army
+'stead of Dr. Carroll.
+
+"After I gits in de army, it wasn' so much fun, 'cause tendin' hosses
+and ridin' wasn' all I does. No, sar, I has to do shootin' and git
+shooted at! One time we stops de train, takes Yankee money and lots of
+other things off dat train. Dat was way up de other side of Tennessee.
+
+"You's heard of de battle of Independence? Dat's whar we fights for
+three days and nights. I's not tendin' hosses dat time. Dey gives me a
+rifle and sends me up front fightin', when we wasn' running'. We does a
+heap of runnin' and dat suits dis nigger. I could do dat better'n
+advance. When de order comes to 'treat, I's all ready.
+
+"I gits shot in de shoulder in dat fight and lots of our soldiers gits
+killed and we loses our supply, jus' leaves it and runs. 'Nother time we
+fights two days and nights and de Yankees was bad dat time, too, and we
+had to run through de river. I sho' thought I's gwine git drowned den.
+Dat's de time we tries to git in St. Louis, but de Yankee mans stop us.
+
+"I's free after de war and goes back to Texas, to Gonzales County, and
+gits a job doin' cowboy work for Marster Ross herdin' cattle. And right
+dere's whar I's lucky for not gittin' in jail or hanged. It was dis
+way: I's in town and dat man, Ross, says to me, 'I unnerstan' you's a
+good cowhand,' and he hires me and takes me way out. No house for miles
+'fore we comes to de ranch with cattle and I goes to work. After I's
+workin' a while, I wonders how come dey brings in sich fine steers so
+often and I says to myself, 'Marster Ross mus' have heaps of money for
+to buy all dem steers.' Dey pays no 'tention to de raisin' of cattle,
+jus' brings 'em in and drives dem 'way.
+
+"One time Marster Ross and six mens was gone a week and when dey comes
+back, one of 'em was missin'. Dey had no steers dat time and dey talks
+'bout gittin' frusterated and how one man gits shot. I says to myself,
+'What for was dey chased and shot at?' Den I 'members Marster Bob
+Houston done tol' me 'bout rustlers and how dey's hanged when dey's
+caught, and I knows den dat's how come all dem fine steers is driv in
+and out all de time. But how to git 'way, dere's de puzzlement. I not
+know which way to go and dere's no houses anywhere near. I keeps gittin'
+scarter, and ever' time somebody comes, I thinks its de law. But Marster
+Ross drives de cattle north and I says to him, 'I's good hand at de
+drive. Kin I go with you nex' time you goes north?' And not long after
+dat we starts and we gits to Kansas City. After Marster Ross gets shut
+of de critters, he says. 'We'll res' for couple days, den starts back.'
+I says to me, 'Not dis nigger.'
+
+"I sneaks 'way and was settin' on a bench when 'long comes a white man
+and he's tall, had dark hair and was fine lookin'. He says to me, 'Is
+you a cowhand?' So I tells him I is, and he says he wants a hand on his
+farm in Missouri and he says, 'Come with me.' He tells me his name was
+James and takes me to his farm whar I tends cattle and hosses for three
+years and he pays me well. He gives me more'n I earns. After three years
+I leaves, but not 'cause I larned he was outlaw, 'cause I larned dat
+long time afterwa'ds. I's lonesome for Texas and dat's how I comes to
+Fort Worth and here's whar I's stayed ever' since.
+
+"I's married 'bout 40 years ago to a woman dat had eight chillens. We
+sep'rated 'cause dem chillens cause arg'ments. I can fight one, but not
+de army.
+
+
+
+
+420180
+
+
+     RICHARD CARRUTHERS, 100 year old ex-slave, was born in Memphis,
+     Tennessee. Mr. Billy Coats bought him and his mother and brought
+     them to Bastrop Co., Texas. He came to Houston 20 years ago and
+     lives in a negro settlement known as Acres Home, about 8 miles
+     northeast of Houston. It is a wooded section, with a clearing here
+     and there for a Negro shack and plots of ground for growing
+     "victuals and co'n."
+
+
+"I wants to tell the Gospel truf. My mammy's name was Melia Carruthers
+and my papa's name was Max. My papa's papa's name was Carruthers, too.
+My brothers names was Charlie and Frank and Willie and John and Tom and
+Adam.
+
+"When I was still little Mr. Billy Coats bought my mama and us and with
+about 500 of his slaves we set out to come to Texas. We goes to Bastrop
+County and starts to work. My old missy--her name was Missy Myra--was 99
+year old and her head was bald as a egg and had wens on it as big as
+eggs, too.
+
+"In them days the boss men had good houses but the niggers had log
+cabins and they burned down oftentimes. The chimney would cotch fire,
+'cause it was made out of sticks and clay and moss. Many the time we
+have to git up at midnight and push the chimney 'way from the house to
+keep the house from burnin' up.
+
+"The chairs was mostly chunks of cordwood put on end, or slabs, just
+rough, and the beds was built like scaffoldin'. We made a sort of
+mattress out of corn shucks or moss.
+
+"My missy, she was good, but the overseer, he rough. His temper born of
+the debbil, himse'f. His name was Tom Hill, but us called him 'Debbil
+Hill.'
+
+Old Debbil Hill, he used to whup me and the other niggers if we don't
+jump quick enough when he holler and he stake us out like you stake out
+a hide and whup till we bleed. Many the time I set down and made a
+eight-plait whup, so he could whup from the heels to the back of the
+head 'til he figger he get the proper ret'ibution. Sometime he take salt
+and rub on the nigger so he smart and burn proper and suffer mis'ry.
+They was a caliboose right on the plantation, what look like a
+ice-house, and it was sho' bad to git locked up in it.
+
+"Us got provisions 'lowanced to us every Saturday night. If you had two
+in the family, they 'lowanced you one-half gallon 'lasses and 12 to 15
+pounds bacon and a peck of meal. We have to take the meal and parch it
+and make coffee out of it. We had our flours. One of them we called
+biscuit flour and we called it 'shorts.' We had rye and wheat and buck
+grain.
+
+"If they didn't provision you 'nough, you jus' had to slip 'round and
+git a chicken. That easy 'nough, but grabbin' a pig a sho' 'nough
+problem. You have to cotch him by the snoot so he won't squeal, and
+clomp him tight while you knife him. That ain't stealin', is it? You has
+to keep right on workin' in the field, if you ain't 'lowanced 'nough,
+and no nigger like to work with his belly groanin'.
+
+"When the white preacher come he preach and pick up his Bible and claim
+he gittin the text right out from the good Book and he preach: 'The Lord
+say, don't you niggers steal chickens from your missus. Don't you steal
+YOUR MARSTER'S hawgs.' That would be all he preach.
+
+"Us niggers used to have a prayin' ground down in the hollow and
+sometime we come out of the field, between 11 and 12 at night, scorchin'
+and burnin' up with nothin' to eat, and we wants to ask the good Lawd to
+have mercy. We puts grease in a snuff pan or bottle and make a lamp. We
+takes a pine torch, too, and goes down in the hollow to pray. Some gits
+so joyous they starts to holler loud and we has to stop up they mouth. I
+see niggers git so full of the Lawd and so happy they draps unconscious.
+
+"I kep' a eye on the niggers down in the cotton patch. Sometime they
+lazy 'round and if I see the overseer comin' from the big house I sings
+a song to warn 'em, so they not git whupped, and it go like this:
+
+"'Hold up, hold up, American Spirit!
+Hold up, hold up, H-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!'
+
+"We used to go huntin' and they was lots of game, bears and panthers and
+coons. We have bear dawgs, fox dawg and rabbit dawg that mostly jus' go
+by the name of houn' dawg. Then they have a dawg to run niggers.
+
+"I never tried the conjure, but they would take hair and brass nails and
+thimbles and needles and mix them up in a conjure bag. But I knows one
+thing. They was a old gin between Wilbarger and Colorado and it was
+hanted with spirits of kilt niggers. Us used to hear that old mill
+hummin' when dark come and we slip up easy, but it stop, then when you
+slip away it start up.
+
+"I 'member when the stars fell. We runs and prays, 'cause we thinks it
+jedgment day. It sure dumb old Debbil Hill, them stars was over his
+power.
+
+"On Sundays we put shoes on our feet and they was brass toed. They was
+so hard and stiff they go 'tump, tump, tump,' when we walk. That's the
+only day we got 'cept Christmas and we jus' got somethin' extry to eat.
+All them women sho' knowed how to cook! I often tell my wife how glad I
+was one mornin' when my missy give me a hot, butter biscuit. I goes down
+and shows it to all the other boys. We didn't git them hot, butter
+biscuits in them days.
+
+"I used to dance the pigeon wing and swing my partners 'round. Was them
+womenfolks knock-kneed? You sho' couldn't tell, even when you swung 'em
+'round, 'cause they dresses was so long.
+
+"I's been all 'round the mountain and up on top of it in my day. Durin'
+slave time I been so cold I mos' turn white and they sot me 'fore the
+fire and poultice me with sliced turnips. Come a norther and it blow
+with snow and sleet and I didn't have 'nough clothes to keep me warm.
+
+"When a nigger marry, he slick up his lowers and put on his brass-toed
+shoes, then the preacher marry him out of the Bible. My pappy have a
+pass to visit my mammy and if he don't have one, the paddle roller conk
+him on the head. My grandma and grandpa come here in a steamboat. The
+man come to Africa and say, 'Man and woman, does you want a job?' So
+they gits on the boat and then he has the 'vantage.
+
+"When I was 21 and some more, I don't know jus' how old, I was a free
+man. That the day I shouted. We niggers scattered like partridges. I had
+a fiddle and I'd play for the white folks wherever I went, when they has
+the balls. I marries after 'while, but I don't know what year, 'cause we
+never done paid no 'tention to years. My first wife died after a long
+time, I think 'bout 34 year and I married another and she died this very
+year. Jus' three months later I marries my housekeeper, named Luvena
+Dixon, cause I allus lived a upright life and I knowed the Lawd wouldn't
+like it if I went on livin' in the same house with Luvena without we was
+married. She is 52 year old, and we is happy.
+
+
+
+
+420216
+
+
+[Illustration: Cato Carter]
+
+
+     CATO CARTER was born in 1836 or 1837, near Pineapple, Wilcox
+     County, Alabama, a slave of the Carter family. He and his wife live
+     at 3429 Booth St., Dallas, Texas.
+
+
+"I'm home today 'cause my li'l, old dog is lost and I has to stay 'round
+to hunt for him. I been goin' every day on the truck to the cotton
+patches. I don't pick no more, 'count my hands git too tired and begin
+to cramp on me. But I go and set in the field and watch the lunches for
+the other hands.
+
+"I am a hunerd one years old, 'cause I's twenty-eight, goin' on
+twenty-nine, a man growned, when the breakin' up come. I'm purty old,
+but my folks live that way. My old, black mammy, Zenie Carter, lived to
+be a hunerd twenty-five, and Oll Carter, my white massa--which was the
+brother of my daddy--lived to be a hunerd four. He ain't been so long
+died. Al Carter, my own daddy, lived to be very ageable, but I don't
+know when he died.
+
+"Back in Alabama, Missie Adeline Carter took me when I was past my
+creepin' days to live in the big house with the white folks. I had a
+room built on the big house, where I stayed, and they was allus good to
+me, 'cause I's one of their blood. They never hit me a lick or slapped
+me once, and told me they'd never sell me away from them. They was the
+bes' quality white folks and lived in a big, two-story house with a big
+hall what run all the way through the house. They wasn't rough as some
+white folks on their niggers.
+
+"My mammy lived in a hewn-oak log cabin in the quarters. There was a
+long row of cabins, some bigger than t'others, 'count of fam'ly size. My
+massa had over eighty head of slaves. Them li'l, old cabins was cozy,
+'cause we chinked 'em with mud and they had stick chimneys daubed with
+mud, mixed with hawg-hair.
+
+"The fixin's was jus' plain things. The beds was draw-beds--wooden
+bedsteads helt together with ropes drawed tight, to hold them. We
+scalded moss and buried it awhile and stuffed it into tickin' to make
+mattresses. Them beds slep' good, better'n the ones nowadays.
+
+"There was a good fireplace for cookin' and Sundays the Missie give us
+niggers a pint of flour and a chicken, for to cook a mess of victuals.
+Then there was plenty game to find. Many a time I've kilt seventy-five
+or eighty squirrels out of one big beech. There was lots of deer and
+bears and quails and every other kind of game, but when they ran the
+Indians out of the country, the game jus' followed the Indians. I've
+seed the bigges' herds of deer followin' the way the Indians drifted.
+Whenever the Indians lef', the game all lef' with them, for some reason
+I dunno.
+
+"Talkin' 'bout victuals, our eatin' was good. Can't say the same for all
+places. Some of the plantations half starved their niggers and 'lowanced
+out their eatin' till they wasn't fittin' for work. They had to slip
+about to niggers on other places to piece out their meals. They had
+field calls and other kinds of whoops and hollers, what had a meanin' to
+'em.
+
+"Our place was fifteen hunerd acres in one block, and 'sides the crops
+of cotton and corn and rice and ribbon cane we raised in the bottoms, we
+had veg'tables and sheep and beef. We dried the beef on scaffolds we
+built and I used to tend it. But bes' of anythin' to eat, I liked a big,
+fat coon, and I allus liked honey. Some the niggers had li'l garden
+patches they tended for themselves.
+
+"Everythin' I tell you am the truth, but they's plenty I can't tell you.
+I heard plenty things from my mammy and grandpappy. He was a fine diver
+and used to dive in the Alabama river for things what was wrecked out of
+boats, and the white folks would git him to go down for things they
+wanted. They'd let him down by a rope to find things on the bottom of
+the riverbed. He used to git a piece of money for doin' it.
+
+"My grandmammy was a juksie, 'cause her mammy was a nigger and her daddy
+a Choctaw Indian. That's what makes me so mixed up with Indian and
+African and white blood. Sometimes it mattered to me, sometimes it
+didn't. It don't no more, 'cause I'm not too far from the end of my
+days.
+
+"I had one brother and one sister I helped raise. They was mostly
+nigger. The Carters told me never to worry 'bout them, though, 'cause my
+mammy was of their blood and all of us in our fam'ly would never be
+sold, and sometime they'd make free man and women of us. My brother and
+sister lived with the niggers, though.
+
+"I was trained for a houseboy and to tend the cows. The bears was so bad
+then, a 'sponsible pusson who could carry a gun had to look after them.
+
+"My massa used to give me a li'l money 'long, to buy what I wanted. I
+allus bought fine clothes. In the summer when I was a li'l one, I wore
+lowerin's, like the rest of the niggers. That was things made from
+cotton sackin'. Most the boys wore shirttails till they was big
+yearlin's. When they bought me red russets from the town, I cried and
+cried. I didn't want to wear no rawhide shoes. So they took 'em back.
+They had a weakness for my cryin'. I did have plenty fine clothes, good
+woolen suits they spinned on the place, and doeskins and fine linens. I
+druv in the car'age with the white folks and was 'bout the mos' dudish
+nigger in them parts.
+
+"I used to tend the nurslin' thread. The reason they called it that was
+when the mammies was confined with babies havin' to suck, they had to
+spin. I'd take them the thread and bring it back to the house when it
+was spinned. If they didn't spin seven or eight cuts a day, they'd git a
+whuppin'. It was consid'ble hard on a woman when she had a frettin'
+baby. But every mornin' them babies had to be took to the big house, so
+the white folks could see if they's dressed right. They was money tied
+up in li'l nigger young'uns.
+
+"They whupped the women and they whupped the mens. I used to work some
+in the tan'ry and we made the whips. They'd tie them down to a stob, and
+give 'em the whuppin'. Some niggers, it taken four men to whup 'em, but
+they got it. The nigger driver was meaner than the white folks. They'd
+better not leave a blade of grass in the rows. I seed 'em beat a nigger
+half a day to make him 'fess up to stealin' a sheep or a shoat. Or
+they'd whup 'em for runnin' away, but not so hard if they come back of
+their own 'cordance when they got hungry and sick in the swamps. But
+when they had to run 'em down with the nigger dogs, they'd git in bad
+trouble.
+
+"The Carters never did have any real 'corrigible niggers, but I heard of
+'em plenty on other places. When they was real 'corrigible, the white
+folks said they was like mad dogs and didn't mind to kill them so much
+as killin' a sheep. They'd take 'em to the graveyard and shoot 'em down
+and bury 'em face downward, with their shoes on. I never seed it done,
+but they made some the niggers go for a lesson to them that they could
+git the same.
+
+"But I didn't even have to carry a pass to leave my own place, like the
+other niggers. I had a cap with a sign on it: 'Don't bother this
+nigger, or there will be Hell to pay.' I went after the mail, in the
+town. It come in coaches and they put on fresh hosses at Pineapple. The
+coachman run the hosses into Pineapple with a big to-do and blowin' the
+bugle to git the fresh hosses ready. I got the mail. I was a trusty all
+my days and never been 'rested by the law to this day.
+
+"I never had no complaints for my treatment, but some the niggers hated
+syrup makin' time, 'cause when they had to work till midnight makin'
+syrup, its four o'clock up, jus' the same. Sun-up to sundown was for
+fiel' niggers.
+
+"Corn shuckin' was fun. Them days no corn was put in the cribs with
+shucks on it. They shucked it in the fiel' and shocked the fodder. They
+did it by sides and all hands out. A beef was kilt and they'd have a
+reg'lar picnic feastin'. They was plenty whiskey for the niggers, jus'
+like Christmas.
+
+"Christmas was the big day at the Carter's. Presents for every body, and
+the bakin' and preparin' went on for days. The li'l ones and the big
+ones were glad, 'specially the nigger mens, 'count of plenty good
+whiskey. Mr. Oll Carter got the bes' whiskey for his niggers.
+
+"We used to have frolics, too. Some niggers had fiddles and played the
+reels, and niggers love to dance and sing and eat.
+
+"Course niggers had their ser'ous side, too. They loved to go to church
+and had a li'l log chapel for worship. But I went to the white folks
+church. In the chapel some nigger mens preached from the Bible, but
+couldn't read a line no more than a sheep could. The Carters didn't mind
+their niggers prayin' and singin' hymns, but some places wouldn't 'low
+them to worship a-tall, and they had to put their heads in pots to sing
+or pray.
+
+"Mos' the niggers I know, who had their mar'age put in the book, did it
+after the breakin' up, plenty after they had growned chillen. When they
+got married on the places, mostly they jus' jumped over a broom and
+that made 'em married. Sometimes one the white folks read a li'l out of
+the Scriptures to 'em and they felt more married.
+
+"Take me, I was never one for sickness. But the slaves used to git sick.
+There was jaundice in them bottoms. First off they'd give some castor
+oil, and if that didn't cure they'd give blue mass. Then if he was still
+sick they'd git a doctor.
+
+"They used to cry the niggers off jus' like so much cattle, and we
+didn't think no diff'rent of it. I seed them put them on the block and
+brag on them somethin' big. Everybody liked to hear them cry off
+niggers. The cryer was a clown and made funny talk and kep' everybody
+laughin'.
+
+"When massa and the other mens on the place went off to war, he called
+me and said, 'Cato, you's allus been a 'sponsible man, and I leave you
+to look after the women and the place. If I don't come back, I want you
+to allus stay by Missie Adeline! I said, 'Fore Gawd, I will, Massa Oll.'
+He said, 'Then I can go away peaceable.'
+
+"We thought for a long time the sojers had the Fed'rals whupped to
+pieces, but there was plenty bad times to go through. I carried a gun
+and guarded the place at nighttime. The paddyrollers was bad. I cotched
+one and took him to the house more'n once. They wore black caps and put
+black rags over their faces and was allus skullduggerying 'round at
+night. We didn't use torches any more when we went 'round at night,
+'cause we was afeared. We put out all the fires 'round the house at
+nighttime.
+
+"The young mens in grey uniforms used to pass so gay and singin', in the
+big road. Their clothes was good and we used to feed them the best we
+had on the place. Missie Adeline would say, 'Cato, they is our boys and
+give them the best this place 'fords.' We taken out the hams and the
+wine and kilt chickens for them. That was at first.
+
+"Then the boys and mens in blue got to comin' that way, and they was
+fine lookin' men, too. Missie Adeline would cry and say, 'Cato, they is
+just mens and boys and we got to feed them, too.' We had a pavilion
+built in the yard, like they had at picnics, and we fed the Fed'rals in
+that. Missie Adeline set in to cryin' and says to the Yankees, 'Don't
+take Cato. He is the only nigger man I got by me now. If you take Cato,
+I just don't know what I'll do.' I tells them sojers I got to stay by
+Missie Adeline so long as I live. The Yankee mens say to her, 'Don't
+'sturb youself, we ain't gwine to take Cato or harm nothin' of yours.'
+The reason they's all right by us, was 'cause we prepared for them, but
+with some folks they was rough somethin' ter'ble. They taken off their
+hosses and corn.
+
+"I seed the trees bend low and shake all over and heard the roar and
+poppin' of cannon balls. There was springs not too far from our place
+and the sojers used to camp there and build a fire and cook a mule,
+'cause they'd got down to starvation. When some of the guerillas seed
+the fire they'd aim to it, and many a time they spoiled that dinner for
+them sojers. The Yankees did it and our boys did it, too. There was
+killin' goin' on so ter'ble, like people was dogs.
+
+"Massa Oll come back and he was all wore out and ragged. He soon called
+all the niggers to the front yard and says, 'Mens and womens, you are
+today as free as I am. You are free to do as you like, 'cause the damned
+Yankees done 'creed you are. They ain't a nigger on my place what was
+born here or ever lived here who can't stay here and work and eat to the
+end of his days, as long as this old place will raise peas and goobers.
+Go if you wants, and stay if you wants.' Some of the niggers stayed and
+some went, and some what had run away to the North come back. They allus
+called, real humble like, at the back gate to Missie Adeline, and she
+allus fixed it up with Massa Oll they could have a place.
+
+"Near the close of the war I seed some folks leavin' for Texas. They
+said if the Fed'rals won the war they'd have to live in Texas to keep
+slaves. So plenty started driftin' their slaves to the west. They'd pass
+with the womens ridin' in the wagons and the mens on foot. Some took
+slaves to Texas after the Fed'rals done 'creed the breakin' up.
+
+"Long as I lived I minded what my white folks told me, 'cept one time.
+They was a nigger workin' in the fiel' and he kept jerkin' the mules and
+Massa Oll got mad, and he give me a gun and said, 'Go out there and kill
+that man.' I said, 'Massa Oll, please don't tell me that. I ain't never
+kilt nobody and I don't want to.' He said, 'Cato, you do what I tell
+you.' He meant it. I went out to the nigger and said, 'You has got to
+leave this minute, and I is, too, 'cause I is 'spose to kill you, only I
+ain't and Massa Oll will kill me.' He drops the hanes and we run and
+crawled through the fence and ran away.
+
+"I hated to go, 'cause things was so bad, and flour sold for $25.00 a
+barrel, and pickled pork for $15.00 a barrel. You couldn't buy nothin'
+lessen with gold. I had plenty of 'federate money, only it wouldn't buy
+nothin'.
+
+"But today I is a old man and my hands ain't stained with no blood. I is
+allus been glad I didn't kill that man.
+
+"Mules run to a ter'ble price then. A right puny pair of mules sold for
+$500.00. But the Yankees give me a mule and I farmed a year for a white
+man and watched a herd of mules, too. I stayed with them mules till four
+o'clock even Sundays. So many scoundrels was goin' 'bout, stealin'
+mules.
+
+"That year I was boun' out by 'greement with the white man, and I made
+$360.00. The bureau come by that year lookin' at nigger's contracts, to
+see they didn't git skunt out their rightful wages. Missie Adeline and
+Massa Oll didn't stay mad at me and every Sunday they come by to see me,
+and brung me li'l del'cate things to eat.
+
+"The Carters said a hunerd times they regretted they never larned me to
+read or write, and they said my daddy done put up $500.00 for me to go
+to the New Allison school for cullud folks. Miss Benson, a Yankee, was
+the teacher. I was twenty-nine years old and jus' startin' in the
+blueback speller. I went to school a while, but one mornin' at ten
+o'clock my poor old mammy come by and called me out. She told me she got
+put out, 'cause she too old to work in the fiel'. I told her not to
+worry, that I'm the family man now, and she didn't never need to git any
+more three-quarter hand wages no more.
+
+"So I left school and turnt my hand to anything I could find for years.
+I never had no trouble findin' work, 'cause all the white folks knowed
+Cato was a good nigger. I lef' my mammy with some fine white folks and
+she raised a whole family of chillen for them. Their name was Bryan and
+they lived on a li'l bayou. Them young'uns was crazy 'bout mammy and
+they'd send me word not to worry about her, 'cause she'd have the bes'
+of care and when she died they'd tend to her buryin'.
+
+"Finally I come to Texas, 'cause I thought there was money for the
+takin' out here. I got a job splittin' rails for two years and from then
+on I farmed, mostly. I married a woman and lived with her forty-seven
+years, rain or shine. We had thirteen chillen and eight of them is
+livin' today.
+
+"Endurin' the big war I got worried 'bout my li'l black mammy and I
+wanted to go back home and see her and the old places. I went, and she
+was shriveled up to not much of anything. That's the last time I saw
+her. But for forty-four years I didn't forget to send her things I
+thought she'd want. I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I left and
+raised a family of chillen. I saw Missie Adeline and she was a old
+woman. We went out and looked at the tombstones and the rock
+markers in the graveyard on the old place, and some of them done near
+melted away. I looked good at lots of things, 'cause I knowed I wouldn't
+be that way 'gain. So many had gone on since I'd been there befo'.
+
+"After my first wife died I married 'gain and my wife is a good woman
+but she's old and done lost her voice, and has to be in Terrell most the
+time. But I git 'long all right, 'cept my hands cramps some.
+
+"You goin' take my picture? I lived through plenty and I lived a long
+time, but this is the first time I ever had my picture took. If I'd
+knowed you wanted to do that, I'd have tidied up and put on my best.
+
+
+
+
+420276
+
+
+     JACK CAUTHERN, 85, was born near Austin, Texas. Dick Townes owned
+     Jack and his parents. After they were freed, the family stayed on
+     the plantation, but Jack went to San Angelo, because "times was too
+     dull in Travis County."
+
+
+"My master was Dick Townes and my folks come with him from Alabama. He
+owned a big plantation fifteen miles from Austin and worked
+lots of slaves. We had the best master in the whole county, and
+everybody called us "Townes' free niggers," he was so good to us, and we
+worked hard for him, raisin' cotton and corn and wheat and oats.
+
+"Most the slaves lived in two-room log cabins with dirt floors, over in
+the quarters, but I lived in master's yard. That's where I was born.
+There was a tall fence 'tween the yard and the quarters and the other
+nigger boys was so jealous of me they wouldn't let me cross that fence
+into the quarters. They told me I thinked I was white, jes' for livin'
+in master's yard.
+
+"Me and young master had the good times. He was nigh my age and we'd
+steal chickens from Old Miss and go down in the orchard and barbecue
+'em. One time she cotched us and sho' wore us out! She'd send us to pick
+peas, but few peas we picked!
+
+"Old Miss was good to her cullud folks. When she'd hear a baby cryin' in
+the night she'd put on boots and take her lantern and go see about it.
+If we needed a doctor she'd send for old Dr. Rector and when I had the
+measles he give me some pills big as the end of my finger.
+
+"We went to church all the time. Young Miss come over Sunday mornin' and
+fotched all us chillen to the house and read the Bible to us. She was
+kind of a old maid and that was her pleasure. We had baptisin's, too.
+One old cullud man was a preacher. Lawd, Lawd, we had shoutin' at them
+camp meetin's!
+
+"I guess we was glad to be free. Old master done die and Old Miss was
+managin' the plantation. She had the whole bunch in the yard and read
+the freedom paper. The old slaves knowed what it meant, but us young
+ones didn't. She told everybody they could stay and work on shares and
+most of 'em did, but some went back to they old homes in Alabama.
+
+"I stayed a while and married, and came to San Angelo. The reason I
+come, times was dull in Travis County and I done hear so much talk 'bout
+this town I said I was comin' and see for myself. That was in 1900 and
+it was jes' a forest here then. I worked eighteen years in McCloskey's
+saloon, and he gave me ten dollars every Christmas 'sides my pay and a
+suit every year. I wish he was livin' now. My wife and I was together
+fifty-two years and then she died. After a long time I married again,
+and my wife is out pickin' cotton now.
+
+"It seem mighty hard to me now by side of old times, but I don't know if
+it was any better in slavery days. It seems mighty hard though, since
+I'm old and can't work.
+
+
+
+
+420154
+
+
+     SALLY BANKS CHAMBERS, wife of Ben Chambers of Liberty, does not
+     know her age. She was born a slave of Jim Moore, in Oakland,
+     Louisiana. Sally has been married three times and has had seven
+     children, about 54 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren. Heavy
+     gold earrings hang from her ears and she dresses, even in
+     midsummer, in a long-sleeved calico shirt, heavy socks and shoes,
+     and a sweeping skirt many yards wide.
+
+
+"Befo' I marry de first time my name am Sally Banks, and I's borned in
+de old states, over in Louisiana, round Oakland. I ain't 'member nothin'
+'bout dat place, 'cause I's so small when dey brung me to Texas.
+
+"Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old gen'man, with a big bald place
+on he head, and he am good to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old
+missus, what was de big, stout woman. She am terrible stric', but she
+whip de li'l white chillen too, so dey be good.
+
+"My daddy name John Moore and mama name Car'line, and dey borned in
+Louisiana. My grandpa was Lewis Moore and grandma name Polly, but dey
+wasn't reg'lar Africy people. My grandma, she have right smart good
+blood in her.
+
+"When old massa come to Texas he brung us over first by wagon, a mule
+wagon with a cover over de top, and he rent de house clost to Liberty.
+But de nex' year he find a place on de river bottom near Grand Cane and
+it jes' suit him for de slaves he have, so he brung all de rest over
+from Louisiana.
+
+"My mama have four chillen when us come to Texas, but she have eleven
+more after freedom. When war broke out she have six, but she multiply
+after dat. She de milker and washwoman and spinner, and make de good,
+strong clothes.
+
+"Dey have li'l separate houses make outten logs for us slaves. De white
+folks house was one dese big, old double-pen house, with de hall down de
+middle. Dey have right nice things in it.
+
+"De white folks 'lowance out de food every Saturday night and dat spose
+last de week. All de cullud folks cook for deyself 'cept'n de single
+mens, and dey eats up in de big kitchen. Us have syrup and cornbread and
+lots of sweet 'taters and homecure' meat what dey salt down and hang in
+de smokehouse.
+
+"De old missus, she ain't 'low no dancin' or huzzawin' round dat place,
+'cause she Christian. Dey 'low us Saturday and Sunday off, and de women
+do dey own washin den'. De menfolks tend to de gardens round dey own
+house. Dey raise some cotton and sell it to massa and git li'l money dat
+way. Us don't never have no presents, but dey give eatments mostly.
+
+"De young massas both go to war. Dey John Calhoun Moore and William. De
+oldes' goes crazy, kind of shellshock like. As far as I knowed, he ain't
+never git no more better. Young William and de old man comes back
+without no scratch, but dey ain't serve long. All dey three 'lists by
+deyselfs, 'cause dey didn't have no truck with dem conscrip'ers. One my
+uncles, Levy Moore, he go to war to wait on de massas, and he struck
+with de fever at Sabine Pass and die right dere.
+
+"After freedom riz up, old massa come home. Den he call all de growed
+folks and tell dem dey's free. A heap left, dey jes' broke ranks and
+left. My daddy and mama both stay. Dey de fav'rites. Old missus make
+present to my mama of a heap of things she need. But de white folks was
+jus' rentin' and when dey have no slaves no more dey give it up and move
+to Tarkington Prairie. Us lost track of dem and ain't never seed dem no
+more.
+
+"My daddy come back to Liberty den and work in de woodyard. Mama, she
+larn me to work and cook and sich and hire me out to nuss a white baby.
+I ain't knowed how much dey pay, 'cause mama she collec' de money.
+
+"I's 19 year old when I marry de first time. You know I got two dead
+men, dat Dick Owens and Nero Williams, both of Liberty. I has two gals,
+Alice and Airy, for Dick, and five chillen for Nero. Dey all dead but
+Adlowyer and Mamie, and dey lives right here. I been marry some thirty
+odd year to Ben Chambers but us ain't never have no chillen.
+
+"Goodness, I dunno how many grandchillen I has. I jedge 'bout 54 in all
+and 13 great ones.
+
+"I loves to work and I ain't gwineter beg, though I's got too old to do
+much. I can't take it but a li'l at a time, but I gits by somehow.
+
+
+
+
+420179
+
+
+     JEPTHA CHOICE, 1117 Brashear St., Houston, Texas, was born in
+     slavery, on the plantation of Jezro Choice, about 6 miles south of
+     Henderson, Texas. Jeptha was sent to school with the white
+     children, and after he was freed, he was sent to school for several
+     years, and became a teacher. He moved to Houston in 1888 and opened
+     a barber shop. Jeptha claims to have been born on Oct. 17, 1835,
+     which would make him 101 years old. He has the appearance of
+     extreme age, but has a retentive memory, and his manner of speaking
+     varies from fairly good English to typical Negro dialect and idiom.
+
+
+"I'll be 102 years old, come fall, 'cause my mother told me I was born
+on Oct. 17, 1835, and besides, I was about 30 years old at the end of
+the Civil War. We belonged to the Choices and I was born on their
+plantation. My mother's name was Martha and she had been brought here
+from Serbia. My father's name was John and he was from the East Indies.
+They was brought to this country in a slave boat owned by Captain Adair
+and sold to someone at New Orleans before Master Jezro Choice bought
+them. I had five sisters and one brother but they are all dead, 'cepting
+one brother who lives near Henderson.
+
+"Master Jezro was right kind. He had 50 or 60 slaves and a grist mill
+and tannery besides the plantation. My white folks sort of picked me out
+and I went to school with the white children. I went to the fields when
+I was about 20, but I didn't do much field works, 'cause they was
+keepin' me good and they didn't want to strain me.
+
+"On Sunday we just put an old Prince Albert coat on some good nigger and
+made a preacher out of him. We niggers had our band, too, and I was one
+of the players.
+
+"The master was mighty careful about raisin' healthy nigger families and
+used us strong, healthy young bucks to stand the healthy nigger gals.
+When I was young they took care not to strain me and I was as handsome
+as a speckled pup and was in demand for breedin'. Later on we niggers
+was 'lowed to marry and the master and missus would fix the nigger and
+gal up and have the doin's in the big house. The white folks would
+gather round in a circle with the nigger and gal in the center and then
+master laid a broom on the floor and they held hands and jumped over it.
+That married 'em for good.
+
+"When babies was born old nigger grannies handled them cases, but until
+they was about three years old they wasn't 'lowed round the quarters,
+but was wet nursed by women who didn't work in the field and kept in
+separate quarters and in the evenin' their mammies were let to see 'em.
+
+"We was fed good and had lots of beef and hawg meat and wild game.
+Possum and sweet yams is mighty good. You parboil the possum about half
+done and put him in a skewer pan and put him in a hot oven and just
+'fore he is done you puts the yams in the pan and sugar on 'em. That's a
+feast.
+
+"Sometimes when they's short of bread the old missus would say, 'How
+'bout some ash cakes?' Then they'd mix cornmeal and water and sweep
+ashes out of the open hearth and bake the ash cakes.
+
+"The master and his boys was all kilt in the war and after freedom I
+stayed all summer. It was pretty tough on us niggers for a while, 'cause
+the womenfolks what was left after the war didn't have money. But
+Colonel Jones, the master's son-in-law, took me to live in Henderson and
+paid twenty-five cents a week for more schoolin' for me and I learned
+through fractions. Then I got me a job teachin' school about six months
+a year and in off times I'd farm. I did lots of different kinds of work,
+on the narrow gauge railroad out of Longview and I learned to be a
+barber, too. But I had to give it up a few years back 'cause I can't
+stand up so long any more and now I'm tryin' to help my people by divine
+healing.
+
+
+
+
+420243
+
+
+[Illustration: Amos Clark's Sorghun Mill]
+
+[Illustration: Amos Clark]
+
+
+     AMOS CLARK, 96, was born a slave of Robert Clark, in Washington
+     County, Texas. After Amos was freed, he farmed near Belton, Texas.
+     Amos now lives in Waco.
+
+
+"I was borned on the second of April, in 1841. Mammy say dat de year,
+'cause Marse Bob's brother, Tom, done go tradin' and has a lot of
+trouble with de Indians, and come back with scars all over he arms. It
+warn't all dey fault, 'cause Marse Tom allus gittin' in trouble with
+somebody.
+
+"When I was still half-growed, Marse Bob traded me to Marse Ed
+Roseborough, and we come to Belton to live. Us piled ox wagons high with
+beddin' and clothes and sich, and Old Marse had he books in a special
+horsehair trunk, what de hide still had hair on. It had brass tacks all
+trimmin' it up, and it was sho' a fine trunk, and he say, 'Amos, you
+black rascal, keep you eye on dat trunk, and don't git it wet crossin'
+de water and don't let no Indian git it.' Us had a sizeable drove of
+cattle and some sheep and pigs and chickens and ducks.
+
+"Marse and Missis finds where dey wants de house and us gits dem axes
+out and in a few days dere am a nice log house with two big rooms and a
+hall 'tween dem, mos' as big as de rooms. Us been on de road 'bout six
+weeks and Missis sho' proud of her new house. Den us makes logs into
+houses for us and a big kitchen close to de big house. Den us builds a
+office for Old Marse and makes chairs and beds and tables for everybody.
+Old Miss brung her bed and a spindly, li'l table, and us make all de
+rest.
+
+"For eatin' de good shooters and scouters gits birds and rabbits and
+wild turkeys and sometimes a lot of wild eggs or honey, when dey chops a
+bee tree down. A old Indian come to holp us hunt. He'd work a week if
+Marse Ed give him some red calico or a hatchet. Old Miss done bring a
+dozen hens and a bag of seeds, and folks come ridin' twenty miles to
+swap things.
+
+"Dere warn't no mill to grind corn, so de boss carpenter, he hollows out
+a log and gits some smooth, hard rocks and us grind de corn like it was
+a morter. Old Man Stubblefield builded a watermill on de creek 'bout
+eight miles from us, and den us tooken de corn dere.
+
+"Dere was three hundred acres and more'n fifty slaves, and lots of work,
+clearin' and buildin' and plantin'. Some de cabins didn't git no floor
+for two years. Jes' quick as dey could, de men gits out clapboards for
+de walls and split puncheon slabs for floors and palin's for fences.
+
+"Missis, she takes two de likelies' young slaves and makes a garden,
+come spring. Somehow she git herself roses and posies and vegetables.
+
+"Dere warn't no overseer. Marse Ed, he jes' ride round on he big hoss
+and see to things. Us didn't know nothin 'bout de war much, 'cause none
+us could read or write.
+
+"Dere was two fiddlers 'mongst us, Jim Roseborough and Tom. Dey'd have
+de big barbecue for folks come from miles round, and coffee and chicken
+and turkey and dancin' and fiddlin' all night. Come daybreak, dey jes'
+goin' good. Us niggers dance back de quarters, and call
+
+"'All eight balance and all eight swing,
+All left allemond and right hand grand,
+Meet your partner and prom'nade, eight,
+Den march till you come straight.
+
+"'First lady out to couple on de right,
+Swing Mr. Adam and swing Miss Eve,
+Swing Old Adam befo' you leave,
+Don't forgit your own--now you're home.'
+
+"Two, three years after dat I marries Liza Smith. Us has four chillen
+and all dead 'cept John, and he lives out west.
+
+"After freedom Old Marse say kill a yearlin' and have de big dinner and
+dance. De young ones he told to scatter out and hunt work, not to steal
+and work hard. Some de oldes' ones he give a cabin and a patch of land.
+He say de niggers what want to stay on and work for him can, iffen he
+make enough to feed dem. I stays with Marse Ed, but he give me a patch
+of twenty acres and a sorghum mill to make a livin' on. Dat how I gits
+on my way after freedom.
+
+"I gits dat sorghum mill to workin' good and works de Roseborough land
+and my patch, and raises corn and cotton and wheat. I was plumb good at
+farmin'. I allus had a piece or two of money in my pocket since I can
+'member, but now de old man's too old. De gov'ment gives me seven or
+eight dollars a month and I has a few chickens and gits by, and de good
+white folks nigh by sees dat dis old boy don't git cold.
+
+
+
+
+420059
+
+
+[Illustration: Anne Clark]
+
+
+     MOTHER ANNE CLARK, 112 years old, lives at 3602 Alameda Ave., El
+     Paso, Texas. She is too crippled to walk, but a smile lights up the
+     tired old eyes that still see to sew without glasses. One tooth of
+     a third set is in her upper gum. She is deaf, but can hear if you
+     speak close to her ear. She says, "Lemma git my ears open, bofe of
+     'em," wets her finger, then pulls so hard on the ear lobes it seems
+     they would be injured.
+
+
+"I'll be 112 years old, come first day of June (1937). Bo'n in
+Mississippi. I had two marsters, but I've been free nearly 80 years. I
+was freed in Memphis.
+
+"My marster was a Yankee. He took me to Louisiana and made a slave outta
+me. But he had to go to war. He got in a quarrel one day and grabbed two
+six-shooters, but a old white man got him down and nearly kilt him. Our
+men got him and gave him to the Yankees.
+
+"Capt. Clark, my second marster, took a shot at him and he couldn' come
+south no more. You don' know what a time I seen! I don' wanna see no
+more war. Why, we made the United States rich but the Yankees come and
+tuk it. They buried money and when you bury money it goes fu'ther down,
+down, down, and then you cain't fin' it.
+
+"You know, the white folks hated to give us up worse thing in the world.
+I ploughed, hoed, split rails. I done the hardest work ever a man ever
+did. I was so strong, iffen he needed me I'd pull the men down so the
+marster could handcuff 'em. They'd whop us with a bullwhip. We got up
+at 3 o'clock, at 4 we done et and hitched up the mules and went to the
+fiel's. We worked all day pullin' fodder and choppin' cotton. Marster'd
+say, 'I wan' you to lead dat fiel' today, and if you don' do it I'll put
+you in de stocks.' Then he'd whop me iffen I didn' know he was talkin'
+to me.
+
+"My poppa was strong. He never had a lick in his life. He helped the
+marster, but one day the marster says, 'Si, you got to have a whoppin',
+and my poppa says, 'I never had a whoppin' and you cain't whop me.' An'
+the marster says, 'But I kin kill you,' an' he shot my poppa down. My
+mama tuk him in the cabin and put him on a pallet. He died.
+
+"My mama did the washin' for the big house. She tuk a big tub on her
+head and a bucket of water in her hand. My mama had two white chillen by
+marster and they were sold as slaves. I had two chillen, too. I never
+married. They allus said we'd steal, but I didn' take a thing. Why,
+they'd put me on a hoss with money to take into town and I'd take it to
+the store in town, and when I'd git back, marster'd say, 'Anne, you
+didn' take a thing.'
+
+"When women was with child they'd dig a hole in the groun' and put their
+stomach in the hole, and then beat 'em. They'd allus whop us."
+
+"Don' gring me anything fine to wear for my birthday. I jus' wan' some
+candy. I'm lookin' for Him to take me away from here."
+
+
+
+
+420293
+
+
+     THOMAS COLE was born in Jackson Co., Alabama, on the 8th of August,
+     1845, a slave of Robert Cole. He ran away in 1861 to join the Union
+     Army. He fought at Chickamauga, under Gen. Rosecran and at
+     Chattanooga, Look Out Mt. and Orchard Knob, under Gen. Thomas.
+     After the war he worked as switchman in Chattanooga until his
+     health failed due to old age. He then came to Texas and lives with
+     his daughter, in Corsicana. Thomas is blind.
+
+
+"I might as well begin far back as I remember and tell you all about
+myself. I was born over in Jackson County, in Alabama, on August 8,
+1845. My mother was Elizabeth Cole, her bein' a slave of Robert Cole,
+and my father was Alex Gerrand, 'cause he was John Gerrand's slave. I
+was sposed to take my father's name, but he was sech a bad, ornery,
+no-count sech a human, I jes' taken my old massa's name. My mother was
+brung from Virginny by Massa Dr. Cole, and she nussed all his six
+chillen. My sister's name was Sarah and my brother's name was Ben and we
+lived in one room of the big house, and allus had a good bed to sleep in
+and good things to eat at the same table, after de white folks gits
+through.
+
+"I played with Massa Cole's chillen all de time, and when I got older he
+started me workin' by totin' wood and sech odd jobs, and feedin' de
+hawgs. Us chillen had to pick cotton every fall. De big baskets weigh
+about seventy-five to a hundred pounds, but us chillen put our pickin's
+in some growed slave's basket. De growed slaves was jes' like a mule. He
+work for grub and clothes, and some of dem didn't have as easier a time
+as a mule, for mules was fed good and slaves was sometimes half
+starved. But Massa Cole was a smart man and a good man with it. He had
+'spect for the slaves' feelin's and didn't treat dem like dumb brutes,
+and 'lowed dem more privileges dan any other slaveholder round dere. He
+was one of de best men I ever knows in my whole life and his wife was
+jes' like him. Dey had a big, four-room log house with a big hall down
+the center up and down. De logs was all peeled and de chinkin' a
+diff'rent color from de logs and covered with beads. De kitchen am a
+one-room house behin' de big house with de big chimney to cook on. Dat
+where all de meals cooked and carry to de house.
+
+"In winter massa allus kill from three to four hundred hawgs, de two
+killin's he done in November and January. Some kill and stick, some
+scald and scrape, and some dress dem and cut dem up and render de lard.
+Dey haul plenty hick'ry wood to de smokehouse and de men works in shifts
+to keep de smoke fire goin' sev'ral days, den hangs de meat in de
+meathouse. First us eat all de chitlin's, den massa begin issuin'
+cut-back bones to each fam'ly, and den 'long come de spareribs, den de
+middlin' or a shoulder, and by dat time he kill de second time and dis
+was to go all over 'gain. Each fam'ly git de same kind of meat each
+week. Iffen one git a ham, dey all git a ham. All de ears and feet was
+pickle and we eats dem, too. If de meat run out 'fore killin' time, us
+git wild turkeys or kill a beef or a goat, or git a deer.
+
+"Massa let us plant pumpkins and have a acre or two for watermelons,
+iffen us work dem on Saturday evenin's. Dere a orchard of 'bout five or
+six acres peaches and apples and he 'low us to have biscuits once a
+week. Yes, we had good eatin' and plenty of it den.
+
+"Massa had one big, stout, healthy lookin' slave 'bout six foot, four
+inches tall, what he pay $3,000 for. He bought six slaves I knows of and
+give from $400 up for dem. He never sold a slave 'less he git onruly.
+
+"Massa allus give us cotton clothes for summer and wool for winter,
+'cause he raised cotton and sheep. Den each fam'ly have some chickens
+and sell dem and de eggs and maybe go huntin' and sell de hides and git
+some money. Den us buy what am Sunday clothes with dat money, sech as
+hats and pants and shoes and dresses.
+
+"We'd git up early every day in de year, rain or shine, hot or cold. A
+slave blowed de horn and dere no danger of you not wakin' up when dat
+blowed long and loud. He climb up on a platform 'bout ten feet tall to
+blow dat bugle. We'd work till noon and eat in de shade and rest 'bout a
+hour or a little more iffen it hot, but only a hour if it cold. You is
+allus tired when you makes de day like dat on de plantation and you
+can't play all night like de young folks does now. But us lucky, 'cause
+Massa Cole don't whip us. De man what have a place next ours, he sho'
+whip he slaves. He have de cat-o-nine tails of rawhide leather platted
+round a piece of wood for a handle. De wood 'bout ten inches long and de
+leather braided on past de stock quite a piece, and 'bout a foot from
+dat all de strips tied in a knot and sprangle out, and makes de tassle.
+Dis am call de cracker and it am what split de hide. Some folks call dem
+bullwhips, 'stead of cat-o-nine tails. De first thing dat man do when he
+buy a slave, am give him de whippin'. He call it puttin' de fear of Gawd
+in him.
+
+"Massa Cola 'low us read de Bible. He awful good 'bout dat. Most de
+slaveowners wouldn't 'low no sech. Uncle Dan he read to us and on Sunday
+we could go to church. De preacher baptize de slaves in de river. Dat
+de good, old-time 'ligion, and us all go to shoutin' and has a good
+time. Dis gen'ration too dig'fied to have de old-time 'ligion.
+
+"When baptizin' comes off, it almost like goin' to de circus. People
+come from all over and dey all singin' songs and everybody take dere
+lunch and have de good time. Massa Cole went one time and den he git
+sick, and next summer he die. Missy Cole, she moves to Huntsville, in
+Alabama. But she leave me on de plantation, 'cause I'm big and stout
+den. She takes my mother to cook and dat de last time I ever seed my
+mother. Missy Cole buys de fine house in Huntsville my mother tells me
+to be good and do all de overseer tells me. I told her goodbye and she
+never did git to come back to see me, and I never seed her and my
+brother and sister 'gain. I don't know whether dey am sold or not.
+
+"I thinks to myself, dat Mr. Anderson, de overseer, he'll give me dat
+cat-o-nine tails de first chance he gits, but makes up my mind he won't
+git de chance, 'cause I's gwine run off de first chance I gits. I didn't
+know how to git out of dere, but I's gwine north where dere ain't no
+slaveowners. In a year or so dere am 'nother overseer, Mr. Sandson, and
+he give me de log house and de gal to do my cookin' and sich. Dere am
+war talk and we 'gins gwine to de field earlier and stayin' later. Corn
+am haul off, cotton am haul off, hawgs and cattle am rounded up and haul
+off and things 'gins lookin' bad. De war am on, but us don't see none of
+it. But 'stead of eatin' cornbread, us eats bread out of kaffir corn and
+maize. "We raises lots of okra and dey say it gwine be parch
+and grind to make coffee for white folks. Dat didn't look good either.
+Dat winter, 'stead of killin' three or four hundred hawgs like we allus
+done befo', we only done one killin' of a hundred seventy-five, and dey
+not all big ones, neither. When de meat supply runs low, Mr. Sandson
+sends some slaves to kill a deer or wild hawgs or jes' any kind of game.
+He never sends me in any dem bunches but I hoped he would and one day he
+calls me to go and says not to go off de plantation too far, but be sho'
+bring home some meat. Dis de chance I been wantin', so when we gits to
+de huntin' ground de leader says to scatter out, and I tells him me and
+'nother man goes north and make de circle round de river and meet 'bout
+sundown. I crosses de river and goes north. I's gwine to de free
+country, where dey ain't no slaves. I travels all dat day and night up
+de river and follows de north star. Sev'ral times I thunk de blood
+houn's am trailin' me and I gits in de big hurry. I's so tired I
+couldn't hardly move, but I gits in a trot.
+
+"I's hopin' and prayin' all de time I meets up with dat Harriet Tubman
+woman. She de cullud women what takes slaves to Canada. She allus
+travels de underground railroad, dey calls it, travels at night and
+hides out in de day. She sho' sneaks dem out de South and I thinks she's
+de brave woman.
+
+"I eats all de nuts and kills a few swamp rabbits and cotches a few
+fish. I builds de fire and goes off 'bout half a mile and hides in de
+thicket till it burns down to de coals, den bakes me some fish and
+rabbit. I's shakin' all de time, 'fraid I'd git cotched, but I's nearly
+starve to death. I puts de rest de fish in my cap and travels on dat
+night by de north star and hides in a big thicket de nex' day and along
+evenin' I hears guns shootin'. I sho' am scart dis time, sho' 'nough.
+I's scart to come in and scart to go out, and while I's standin' dere, I
+hears two men say, 'Stick you hands up, boy. What you doin?' I says,
+'Uh-uh-uh, I dunno. You ain't gwine take me back to de plantation, is
+you?' Dey says, 'No. Does you want to fight for de North?' I says I
+will, 'cause dey talks like northern men. Us walk night and day and gits
+in Gen. Rosecran's camp and dey thunk I's de spy from de South. Dey asks
+me all sorts of questions and says dey'll whip me if I didn't tell dem
+what I's spyin' 'bout. Fin'ly dey 'lieves me and puts me to work helpin'
+with de cannons. I feels 'portant den, but I didn't know what was in
+front of me, or I 'spects I'd run off 'gain.
+
+"I helps sot dem cannons on dis Chickamauga Mountain, in hidin' places.
+I has to go with a man and wait on him and dat cannon. First thing I
+knows, bang, bang, boom, things has started, and guns am shootin' faster
+dan you can think, and I looks round for de way to run. But dem guns am
+shootin' down de hill in front of me and shootin' at me, and over me and
+on both sides of me. I tries to dig me a hole and git in it. All dis
+happen right now, and first thing I knows, de man am kickin' me and
+wantin' me to holp him keep dat cannon loaded. Man, I didn't want no
+cannon, but I has to help anyway. We fit till dark and de Rebels got
+more men dan us, so Gen. Rosecran sends de message to Gen. Woods to come
+help us out. When de messenger slips off, I sho' wish it am me slippin'
+off, but I didn't want to see no Gen. Woods. I jes' wants to git back to
+dat old plantation and pick more cotton. I'd been willin' to do mos'
+anything to git out that mess, but I done told Gen. Rosecran I wants to
+fight de Rebels and he sho' was lettin' me do it. He wasn't jes' lettin'
+me do it, he was makin' me do it. I done got in dere and he wouldn't let
+me out.
+
+"White folks, dere was men layin' wantin' help, wantin' water, with
+blood runnin' out dem and de top or sides dere heads gone, great big
+holes in dem. I jes' promises de good Lawd if he jes' let me git out dat
+mess, I wouldn't run off no more, but I didn't know den he wasn't gwine
+let me out with jes' dat battle. He gwine give me plenty more, but dat
+battle ain't over yet, for nex' mornin' de Rebels 'gins shootin' and
+killin' lots of our men, and Gen. Woods ain't come, so Gen. Rosecran
+orders us to 'treat, and didn't have to tell me what he said, neither.
+De Rebels comes after us, shootin', and we runs off and leaves dat
+cannon what I was with settin' on de hill, and I didn't want dat thing
+nohow.
+
+"We kep' hotfootin' till we gits to Chattanooga and dere is where we
+stops. Here comes one dem Rebel generals with de big bunch of men and
+gits right on top of Look Out Mountain, right clost to Chattanooga, and
+wouldn't let us out. I don't know jes' how long, but a long time. Lots
+our hosses and mules starves to death and we eats some de hosses. We all
+like to starve to death ourselves. Chattanooga is in de bend de
+Tennessee River and on Look Out Mountain, on de east, am dem Rebels and
+could keep up with everything we done. After a long time a Gen. Thomas
+gits in some way. He finds de rough trail or wagon road round de
+mountain 'long de river and supplies and men comes by boat up de river
+to dis place and comes on into Chattanooga. More Union men kep' comin'
+and I guess maybe six or eight generals and dey gits ready to fight. It
+am long late in Fall or early winter.
+
+"Dey starts climbin' dis steep mountain and when us gits three-fourths
+de way up it am foggy and you couldn't see no place. Everything wet and
+de rocks am slick and dey 'gins fightin'. I 'spect some shoots dere own
+men, 'cause you couldn't see nothin', jes' men runnin' and de guns
+roarin'. Fin'ly dem Rebels fled and we gits on Look Out Mountain and
+takes it.
+
+"Dere a long range of hills leadin' 'way from Look Out Mountain, nearly
+to Missionary Ridge. Dis ridge 'longside de Chickamauga River, what am
+de Indian name, meanin' River of Death. Dey fights de Rebels on Orchard
+Knob hill and I wasn't in dat, but I's in de Missionary Ridge battle. We
+has to come out de timber and run 'cross a strip or openin' up de hill.
+Dey sho' kilt lots our men when we runs 'cross dat openin'. We runs for
+all we's worth and uses guns or anything we could. De Rebels turns and
+runs off and our soldiers turns de cannons round what we's capture, and
+kilt some de Rebels with dere own guns.
+
+"I never did git to where I wasn't scart when we goes into de battle.
+Dis de last one I's in and I's sho' glad, for I never seed de like of
+dead and wounded men. We picks dem up, de Rebels like de Unions, and
+doctors dem de bes' we could. When I seed all dat sufferin', I hopes I
+never lives to see 'nother war. Dey say de World War am worse but I's
+too old to go.
+
+"I sho' wishes lots of times I never run off from de plantation. I begs
+de General not to send me on any more battles, and he says I's de coward
+and sympathizes with de South. But I tells him I jes' couldn't stand to
+see all dem men layin' dere dyin' and hollerin' and beggin' for help and
+a drink of water, and blood everywhere you looks. Killin' hawgs back on
+de plantation didn't bother me none, but dis am diff'rent.
+
+"Fin'ly de General tells me I can go back to Chattanooga and guard de
+supplies in camp dere and take care de wounded soldiers and prisoners. A
+bunch of men is with me and we has all we can do. We gits de orders to
+send supplies to some general and it my job to help load de wagons or
+box cars or boats. A train of wagons leaves sometimes. We gits all dem
+supplies by boat, and Chattanooga am de 'stributing center. When winter
+comes, everybody rests awhile and waits for Spring to open. De Union
+general sends in some more cullud soldiers. Dere ain't been many cullud
+men but de las' year de war dere am lots. De North and de South am
+takin' anything dey can git to win de war.
+
+"When Spring breaks and all de snow am gone, and de trees 'gins puttin'
+out and everything 'gins to look purty and peaceable-like, makin' you
+think you ought to be plowin' and plantin' a crop, dat when de fightin'
+starts all over 'gain, killin' men and burnin' homes and stealin' stock
+and food. Den dey sends me out to help clear roads and build temp'rary
+bridges. We walks miles on muddy ground, 'cross rivers, wadin' water up
+to our chins. We builds rafts and pole bridges to git de mules and
+hosses and cannons 'cross, and up and down hills, and cuts roads through
+timber.
+
+"But when dey wants to battle Gen. Thomas allus leaves me in camp to
+tend de supplies. He calls me a coward, and I sho' glad he thunk I was.
+I wasn't no coward, I jes' couldn't stand to see all dem people tore to
+pieces. I hears 'bout de battle in a thick forest and de trees big as my
+body jes' shot down. I seed dat in de Missionary Ridge battle, too.
+
+"I shifts from one camp to 'nother and fin'ly gits back to Chattanooga.
+I bet durin' my time I handles 'nough ammunition to kill everybody in de
+whole United States. I seed mos' de mainest generals in de Union Army
+and some in de Rebel Army.
+
+"After de war am over we's turned loose, nowhere to go and nobody to
+help us. I couldn't go South, for dey calls me de traitor and sho' kill
+me iffen dey knows I fit for de North. I does any little job I can git
+for 'bout a year and fin'ly gits work on de railroad, in Stevenson, in
+Alabama. I gits transfer to Chattanooga and works layin' new tracks and
+turn tables and sich.
+
+"In 'bout two weeks I had saw a gal next door, but I's bashful. But
+after payday I dresses up and takes her to a dance. We sparks 'bout two
+months and den we's married at her uncles. Her name am Nancy. We buys a
+piece of land and I has a two-room house built on it. We has two chillen
+and I's livin' with de baby gal now.
+
+"I 'lieve de slaves I knowed as a whole was happier and better off after
+'mancipation dan befo'. Of course, de first few years it was awful hard
+to git 'justed to de new life. All de slaves knowed how to do hard work,
+and dat de old slaves life, but dey didn't know nothin' 'bout how to
+'pend on demselves for de livin'. My first year was hard, but dere was
+plenty wild game in dem days. De south was broke and I didn't hear of no
+slaves gittin' anything but to crop on de halves. Dey too glad to be
+free and didn't want nothin'.
+
+"Things 'gin to git bad for me in Chattanooga as de white men finds out
+I run off from de South and jined de North. Some de brakemen try to git
+my job. I fin'ly quits when one of dem opens a switch I jus' closed. I
+seed him and goes back and fixes de switch, but I quits de job. I goes
+up north but dey ain't int'rested, so I comes back and sells my home and
+buys me a team and wagon. I loads it with my wife and chillen and a few
+things and starts for Texas. We's on de road 'bout six weeks or two
+months. We fishes and hunts every day and de trip didn't cost much. I
+buys ninety acres in timber in Cass County and cuts logs for a house and
+builds a two-room house and log crib. My wife built a stomp lot for de
+team and cow and a rail fence.
+
+"We got 'nough land cleared for de small crop, 'bout thirty acres, and
+builds de barn and sheds outselves. We lived there till de chillen am
+growed. My wife died of chills and fever and den my boy and I built a
+four-room house of planks from our timber. Den I gits lonesome, 'cause
+de chillen gone, and sells de place. I bought it for fifty cents de acre
+and sold it for $12.00 de acre.
+
+"I buys sixty acres in Henderson County for $15.00 a acre and marries de
+second time. I didn't care for her like Nancy. All she think 'bout am
+raisin' de devil and never wants to work or save anything. She like to
+have broke me down befo' I gits rid of her. I stayed and farmed sev'ral
+years.
+
+"My son-in-law rents land in Chambers Creek bottom, and he usually gits
+he crop 'fore de flood gits it. We has some hawgs to kill ev'ry winter
+and we has our cornmeal and milk and eggs and chickens, so de 'pression
+ain't starved us yit. We all got might' nigh naked durin' de 'pression.
+I feeds de hawgs and chickens night and mornin'. I can't see dem, but I
+likes to listen to dem eatin' and cackle. People don't know how dey's
+blessed with good eyes, till dey loses dem. Everybody ought to be more
+thankful dan they is.
+
+"I ain't never voted in my life. I leans to de 'publicans. I don't know
+much 'bout politics, though.
+
+"Today I is broke, 'cause I spent all my money for med'cine and doctors,
+but I gits a small pension and I spends it mos' careful.
+
+
+
+
+420270
+
+
+     ELI COLEMAN, 91, was born a slave of George Brady, in Kentucky.
+     Eli's memory is poor and his story is somewhat sketchy. He now
+     lives in Madisonville, Texas.
+
+
+"I has a old bill of sale, and it shows I's born in 1846 and my massa am
+George Brady. I know my pappy's name was same as mine, and mammy was
+Ella, and I had one brother named Sam, and my sisters was Sadie and Rosa
+and Viola. They's all dead now.
+
+"Pappy was owned by Massa Coleman, what was brother to Massa Brady.
+Pappy could only see mammy once a week when he's courtin' for her. I
+heard pappy tell 'bout his pappy, over in Africy, and he had near a
+hundred wives and over three hundred chillen.
+
+"Pappy never did work. All he ever did was trade. He'd make one thing
+and 'nother and trade it for something to eat. He could get lots of
+fruit and game out of the woods them days, and there was lots of fish.
+
+"Our log house was built of logs, trimmed, and had six rooms. It was
+long, like a cowbarn or chicken house, and my room was third. We had one
+door to each room, covered over with hides. We dug out one corner for
+the bed and fenced it up and gathered straw and moss and tore-up corn
+shucks, and put in the corner to sleep on. What I mean, it was a warm
+bed.
+
+"We did all kinds of work, choppin' cotton and split rails and cut rock,
+and work in the tobacco field. We'd cut that tobacco and hang it in the
+shed to dry. It had to be hanged by the stubble end.
+
+"We had plenty to eat, sech as corn pones. The corn was grated by hand
+and cooked in ashes, and no salt or soda or fancy things like they put
+in bread now.
+
+"There was possum and rabbit and we cooked them different to now. A
+great big, old pot hung over the old rock fireplace. Food cooked that
+way still eats good. Massa Brady allus give us lots out of the garden.
+He fed us reg'lar on good, 'stantial food, jus' like you'd tend to you
+hoss, if you had a real good one.
+
+"Massa Brady, he was one these jolly fellows and a real good man, allus
+good to his black folks. Missy, she was plumb angel. They lived in a old
+stone house with four big rooms. It was the best house in the whole
+county and lots of shade trees by it.
+
+"We had 'bout a hundred acres in our plantation and started to the field
+'fore daylight and worked long as we could see, and fed ane stock and
+got to bed 'bout nine o'clock. Massa whopped a slave if he got stubborn
+or lazy. He whopped one so hard that slave said he'd kill him. So Massa
+done put a chain round his legs, so he jus' hardly walk, and he has to
+work in the field that way. At night he put 'nother chain round his neck
+and fastened it to a tree. After three weeks massa turnt him loose and
+that the proudes' nigger in the world, and the hardes' workin' nigger
+massa had after that.
+
+"On Saturday night we could git a pass or have a party on our own place.
+Through the week we'd fall into our quarters and them patterrollers come
+walk all over us, and we'd be plumb still, but after they done gone some
+niggers gits up and out.
+
+"On Christmas Day massa make a great big eggnog and let us have all we
+wants with a big dinner. He kilt a yearlin' and made plenty barbecue for
+us.
+
+"Massa was a colonel in the war and took me along to care for his hoss
+and gun. Them guns, you couldn't hear nothin' for them poppin'. Us
+niggers had to go all over and pick up them what got kilt. Them what was
+hurt we carried back. Them what was too bad hurt we had to carry to the
+burying place and the white man'd finish killin' them, so we could roll
+them in the hole.
+
+"When massa say we're free, we all 'gun to take on. We didn't have no
+place to go and asked massa could we stay, but he say no. But he did let
+some stay and furnished teams and something to eat and work on the
+halves. I stayed and was sharecropper, and that was when slavery start,
+for when we got our cop made it done take every bit of it to pay our
+debts and we had nothing left to buy winter clothes or pay doctor bills.
+
+"'Bout a year after the war I marries Nora Brady, jus' a home weddin'. I
+asks her to come live with me as my wife and she 'greed and she jus'
+moved her clothes to my room and we lived together a long time. One
+mornin' Nora jus' died, and there warn't no chillen, so I sets out for
+Texas. I done hear the railroad is buildin' in Texas and they hires lots
+of niggers. I gits a hoss from massa and rolls up a few clothes and gits
+my gun.
+
+"I never got very far 'fore the Indians takes my hoss away from me. It
+was 'bout fifty mile to a train and I didn't have no money, but I found
+a white man what wants wood cut and I works near a month for him and
+gits $2.00. I gits on a train and comes a hundred mile from where that
+railroad was goin' 'cross the country, and I has to walk near all that
+hundred miles. Once and now a white man comin' or goin' lets me ride.
+But I got there and the job pays me sixty cents a day. That was lots of
+money them days. Near as I 'member, it was 1867 or 1868 when I comes to
+Texas.
+
+"Then I marries Agnes Frazer, and we has a big weddin' and a preacher
+and a big supper for two or three weeks. Her pappy kilt game and we et
+barbecue all the time. We had eleven chillen, one a year for a long
+time, five boys and six gals. One made a school teacher and I ain't seen
+her nearly forty-five years, 'cause she done took a notion to go north
+and they won't let her back in Texas 'cause she married a white man in
+New York. I don't like that. She don't have no sense or she wouldn't
+done that, no, sir.
+
+"Since the nigger been free it been Hell on the poor old nigger. He has
+advance some ways, but he's still a servant and will be, long as Gawd's
+curse still stay on the Negro race. We was turnt loose without nothin'
+and done been under the white man rule so long we couldn't hold no job
+but labor. I worked most two years on that railroad and the rest my life
+I farms. Now I gits a little pension from the gov'ment and them white
+folks am sho' good to give it to me, 'cause I ain't good for work no
+more.
+
+
+
+
+420003
+
+
+[Illustration: Preely Coleman]
+
+
+     PREELY COLEMAN was born in 1852 on the Souba farm, near New Berry,
+     South Carolina, but he and his mother were sold and brought to
+     Texas when Preely was a month old. They settled near Alto, Texas.
+     Preely now lives in Tyler.
+
+
+"I'm Preely Coleman and I never gits tired of talking. Yes, ma'am, it am
+Juneteenth, but I'm home, 'cause I'm too old now to go on them
+celerabrations. Where was I born? I knows that 'zactly, 'cause my mammy
+tells me that a thousand times. I was born down on the old Souba place,
+in South Carolina, 'bout ten mile from New Berry. My mammy belonged to
+the Souba family, but its a fact one of the Souba boys was my pappy and
+so the Soubas sells my mammy to Bob and Dan Lewis and they brung us to
+Texas 'long with a big bunch of other slaves. Mammy tells me it was a
+full month 'fore they gits to Alto, their new home.
+
+"When I was a chile I has a purty good time, 'cause there was plenty
+chillen on the plantation. We had the big races. Durin' the war the
+sojers stops by on the way to Mansfield, in Louisiana, to git somethin'
+to eat and stay all night, and then's when we had the races. There was a
+mulberry tree we'd run to and we'd line up and the sojers would say,
+'Now the first one to slap that tree gits a quarter,' and I nearly allus
+gits there first. I made plenty quarters slappin' that old mulberry
+tree!
+
+"So the chillen gits into their heads to fix me, 'cause I wins all the
+quarters. They throws a rope over my head and started draggin down the
+road, and down the hill, and I was nigh 'bout choked to death. My only
+friend was Billy and he was a-fightin', tryin' to git me loose. They was
+goin' to throw me in the big spring at the foot of that hill, but we
+meets Capt. Berryman, a white man, and he took his knife and cut the
+rope from my neck and took me by the heels and soused me up and down in
+the spring till I come to. They never tries to kill me any more.
+
+"My mammy done married John Selman on the way to Texas, no cere'mony,
+you knows, but with her massa's consent. Now our masters, the Lewises,
+they loses their place and then the Selman's buy me and mammy. They pays
+$1,500 for my mammy and I was throwed in.
+
+"Massa Selman has five cabins in he backyard and they's built like half
+circle. I grows big 'nough to hoe and den to plow. We has to be ready
+for the field by daylight and the conk was blowed, and massa call out,
+'All hands ready for the field.' At 11:30 he blows the conk, what am the
+mussel shell, you knows, 'gain and we eats dinner, and at 12:30 we has
+to be back at work. But massa wouldn't 'low no kind of work on Sunday.
+
+"Massa Tom made us wear the shoes, 'cause they's so many snags and
+stumps our feets gits sore, and they was red russet shoes. I'll never
+forgit 'em, they was so stiff at first we could hardly stand 'em. But
+Massa Tom was a good man, though he did love he dram. He kep' the bottle
+in the center of the dining table all the time and every meal he'd have
+the toddy. Us slaves et out under the trees in summer and in the kitchen
+in winter and most gen'rally we has bread in pot liquor or milk, but
+sometimes honey.
+
+"I well 'members when freedom come. We was in the field and massa comes
+up and say, 'You all is free as I is.' There was shoutin' and singin'
+and 'fore night us was all 'way to freedom.
+
+
+
+
+420292
+
+
+     HARRIET COLLINS was born in Houston, Texas, in 1870. Her family had
+     been slaves of Richard Coke, and remained with him many years after
+     they were freed. Harriet recalls some incidents of Reconstruction
+     days, and believes in the superstitions handed down to her from
+     slave days.
+
+
+"My birthday done come in January, on de tenth. I's birthed in Houston,
+in 1870, and Gov. Richard Coke allus had owned my daddy and mammy, and
+dey stayed with him after freedom. Mammy, what was Julia Collins, didn't
+die till 1910, and she was most a hundred year old.
+
+"She done told me many a time 'bout how folkses git all worked up over
+Marse Coke's 'lection. Mammy took lunch to de Capitol House to Marse
+Richard, and dere he am on de top floor with all he congressmen and dat
+Davis man and he men on de bottom floor, tryin' to say Marse Richard
+ain't got no right to be governor dis here State. Old Miss and de
+folkses didn't sleep a wink dat night, 'cause dey thunk it sho' be a
+fight. Dat in 1873, Mammy allus say.
+
+"De old place at Houston was like most all old places. Dere was little,
+small dormer windows, dey call 'em, in upstairs, and big porches
+everywhere. Dere was 'hogany furniture and rosewood bedsteads, and big,
+black walnut dressers with big mirrors and little ones down de side. Old
+Miss allus have us keep de drapes white as drifted snow, and polish de
+furniture till it shine. Dere was sofies with dem claw foots, and lots
+of purty chiny and silver.
+
+"On de farm out from town dere was de log house, with quarters and de
+smokehouse and washhouse and big barns and carriage house. De quarters
+was little, whitewashed, log houses, one for de family, and a fence of
+de split palin's round most of dem.
+
+"De white and cullud chillen played together, all over de place. Dey
+went fishin' and rode de plough hosses and run de calves and colts and
+sech devilment. De little white gals all had to wear sunbonnets, and Old
+Miss, she sew dem bonnets on every day, so dey not git sunburnt. Us
+niggers weared de long, duckin' shirts till us git 'bout growed, and den
+us weared long, dark blue dresses. Dey had spinnin' and weavin' rooms,
+where de cullud women makes de clothes.
+
+"Old Miss, she sho' a powerful manager. She knowed jes' how much meal
+and meat and sorghum it gwine take to run de plantation a year. She know
+jes' how much thread it take for spinnin', and she bossed de settin'
+hens and turkeys and fixin' of 'serves and soap. She was sho' good to
+you iffen you work and do like she tell you. Many a night she go round
+to see dat all was right. She a powerful good nuss, too, and so was
+mammy.
+
+"De white folks had good times. Dey'd go hossback ridin' and on picnics,
+and fishin' and have big dinners and balls. Come Christmas, dey have us
+slaves cut a big lot of wood and keep fires all night for a week or two.
+De house be lit with candles from top to toe, and lots of company come.
+For dinner us have turkey and beef roast and a big 'ginny ham and big
+bowls of eggnog and a pitcher of apple cider and apple toddy. All us git
+somethin' on Christmas and plenty eggnog, but no gittin' drunk.
+
+"I can jes' see Marse Dick, tall and kinder stooped like, with de big
+flop hat and longtail coat and allus carryin' a big, old walkin' stick.
+He was sho' a brave man and de big men say dey likes dat flop hat,
+'cause dey done follow it on de battlefield. He had a big voice and dey
+do tell how, in de war, he'd holler, 'Come on, boys,' and de bullets be
+like hail and men fallin' all round, but dat don't stop Marse Dick. He'd
+take off dat flop hat and plunge right on and dey'd foller he bald head
+where de fight was hottes'. He was sho' a man!
+
+"When I gits married it was eight folkses dere, I jus' walks off and
+goes to housekeepin'. I had a calico dress and a Baptist preacher
+marries us.
+
+"Dere been some queer things white folks can't understand. Dere am
+folkses can see de spirits, but I can't. My mammy larned me a lots of
+doctorin', what she larnt from old folkses from Africy, and some de
+Indians larnt her. If you has rheumatism, jes' take white sassafras root
+and bile it and drink de tea. You makes lin'ment by bilin' mullein
+flowers and poke roots and alum and salt. Put red pepper in you shoes
+and keep de chills off, or string briars round de neck. Make red or
+black snakeroot tea to cure fever and malaria, but git de roots in de
+spring when de sap am high.
+
+"When chillen teethin' put rattlesnake rattles round de neck, and
+alligator teeth am good, too. Show de new moon money and you'll have
+money all month. Throw her five kisses and show her money and make five
+wishes and you'll git dem. Eat black-eyed peas on New Year and have luck
+all dat year:
+
+"'Dose black-eyed peas is lucky,
+When et on New Year's Day;
+You'll allus have sweet 'taters
+And possum come you way.'
+
+"When anybody git cut I allus burns woolen rags and smokes de wound or
+burns a piece fat pine and drops tar from it on scorched wool and bind
+it on de wound. For headache put a horseradish poultice on de head, or
+wear a nutmeg on a string round you neck.
+
+If you kills de first snake you sees in spring, you enemies ain't gwine
+git de best of you dat year. For a sprain, git a dirt dauber's nest and
+put de clay with vinegar and bind round de sprain. De dime on de string
+round my ankle keeps cramps out my leg, and tea from red coon-root good,
+too. All dese doctorin' things come clear from Africy, and dey allus
+worked for mammy and for me, too.
+
+
+
+
+420187
+
+
+     ANDREW (Smoky) COLUMBUS was born in 1859 on the John J. Ellington
+     plantation, one mile south of Linden, Texas. He continued in the
+     service of the Ellingtons until about 1878, when he moved to
+     Jefferson, Texas. He carried meals to Abe Rothchild, who was in
+     jail, charged with the murder of Diamond Bessie Moore. Andrew was
+     37 years a servant of Hon. Tom Armistead, and was a porter in the
+     Capital at Austin when Armistead was a senator. Andrew now lives in
+     Marshall, Texas.
+
+
+"I was bo'n a slave of Master John Ellington, who lived in Davis County
+(now Cass Co.), Texas. Master John had a big house and close by was a
+long, double row of slave quarters. It looked like a town. There was
+four boys and two girls in Master's fam'ly and one daughter, Miss Lula,
+married Lon Morris, that run the Lon Morris School.
+
+"Master John was one white man that sho' took care of his niggers. He
+give us plenty warm clothes and good shoes, and come see us and had Dr.
+Hume doctor us when we was sick. The niggers et ham and middlin' and
+good eats as anybody. Master John's place joined the Haggard place,
+where they was lots of wild turkey and the slaves could go huntin' and
+fishin' when they wanted.
+
+"We had a church and a school for the slaves and the white folks helped
+us git book learnin'. Mos' of the niggers allus went to preachin' on
+Sunday.
+
+"The hands didn't work Saturday afternoons. That's when we'd wash our
+clothes and clean up for Sunday. There was parties and dances on
+Saturday night for them as wanted them. But there wasn't no whiskey
+drinkin' and fightin' at the parties. Mammy didn't go to them. She was
+religious and didn't believe in dancin' and sech like. On Christmas
+Master John allus give the slaves a big dinner and it didn't seem like
+slavery time. The niggers had a sight better time than they do now.
+
+"Master John did all the bossin' hisself. None of his niggers ever run
+off 'cause he was too good for them to do that. I only got one whippin'
+from him and it was for stealin' eggs from a hen's nest. My pappy was
+carriage driver for Master. I didn't do much of the work when I was a
+boy, jes' stayed round the house.
+
+"Master John raised lots of cotton and after it was baled he hauled it
+to Jefferson on ox wagons. I'd allus go with him, ridin' on top of the
+bales. I'll never forgit how scared I was when we'd cross Black Cypress
+on Roger's Ferryboat and it'd begin to rock.
+
+"I don't remember much about the War. When it was over Master John calls
+all his slaves together and says, 'You'se free now and you can go or
+stay.' He told the men who wanted to leave they could have a wagon and
+team, but most of them stayed. Pappy took a wagon and team and left but
+mammy and us children stayed and lived with Master Ellington 'bout 15
+years after the war was over.
+
+"When I left Master John I moved to Jefferson and married Cora Benton
+and we had three boys and two girls. While I was in Jefferson Sheriff
+Vine goes to Cincinnati after Abe Rothchild, for killin' 'Diamond
+Bessie.' Abe shot hisself in the forehead when he heared Sheriff Vine
+was after him, but it didn't kill him. There was sho' some stirrin'
+about when the sheriff fotch Abe back to Jefferson.
+
+"Mr. Sam Brown was the jailer. Abe wouldn't eat the jail food and hired
+me to bring his meals to him from the hotel. His cell was fixed up like
+a hotel room, with a fine brussels rug and nice tables and chairs. He
+kep' plenty of whiskey and beer to drink. He'd allus give me a drink
+when I took his meals.
+
+"I worked 37 years for Mr. Tom Armistead, who helped W.T. Crawford and
+his brother defend Rothchild. Mr. Eppenstadt, he was mayor of Jefferson
+then and acted as a go-between man in the case.
+
+"Master Tom Armistead never married and I kep' house and cooked for him.
+He give me lots of fine clothes. I bet I owned more fine shirts than any
+nigger in Texas. He got me a job as porter in the Capitol at Austin
+while he was senator. I was workin' there when they moved in the new
+Capitol in 1888. They was gonna put on a big party and say all the
+porters had to wear cutaway suits. I didn't have one, so the day 'fore
+the party I goes over to Mr. Tom's room at the Bristol Hotel and git one
+of his. I didn't know then it was a right new one he had made for the
+party. When I goes back to the Capitol all dressed up in that cutaway
+suit, I meets Mr. Templeton Houston and he recognises the suit and says.
+'You sho' look fine in Mr. Tom's new suit,' 'bout that time Mr. Tom
+walks up and, you know, he give me that suit and had him another one
+made for the party! I wouldn't live where there wasn't no good white
+folks.
+
+
+
+
+420218
+
+
+[Illustration: Steve Conally]
+
+[Illustration: Steve Conally's House]
+
+
+     STEVE CONNALLY, 90, was born a slave of Tom Connally, grandfather
+     of United States Senator Tom Connally, from Texas. The family then
+     lived in Georgia, and Steve's master was a member of the Georgia
+     Legislature.
+
+
+"I was born in Murray County, Georgia, and was a slave of Massa Tom
+Connally, but they called him Massa "Cushi" Connally. He was a member of
+de Georgia Legislature. I stayed with Missy Mary Connally till I was
+sixty-seven and Massa Cushi died when I was sixty-nine.
+
+"My mother, Mandy, weighed two hundred pounds and she was de Connally
+cook. When I was born, she took de fever and couldn't raise me, so Missy
+Mary took and kep' me in a li'l cot by her bed. After dat, I'm with her
+nearly all de time and follows her. When she go to de garden I catches
+her dresstail and when she go to de doctor, 'bout eighty miles away, I
+goes with her.
+
+"I mus' tell you why everybody call Massa Connally Cushi. Dere am allus
+so many Tom Connallys in de fam'ly, dey have to have de nickname to tell
+one from de other.
+
+"Back dere in Georgia, us have lots and lots of fruit. Come time, de
+women folks preserves and cans till it ain't no use. My mammy take de
+prize any day with her jelly and sech, and her cakes jes' nachelly walk
+off and leave de whole county. Missy Mary sho' de master hand hersef at
+de fine bakin' and I'd slip round and be handy to lick out de pans.
+
+"Dey didn't have no 'frigerators den, but dey built log houses without a
+floor over de good, cold spring, and put flat rocks dere to keep de milk
+and cream and butter cold. Or dey dig out de place so de crock be down
+in de wet dirt. Dey sho' have to make de latch up high, so de bad
+chillen couldn't open dat door!
+
+"De plantation in Georgia was de whopper. I don't know 'zactly how many
+acres, but it a big one. Us make everything and tan hides and make
+shoes, jes' like all de big places did. De big house and de weavin'
+house and de tannin' yard and de sugar mill and slave quarters made a
+li'l town. Dere used to be some mighty big doin's dere. De Connally men
+and women am allus good lookers and mighty pop'lar, and folkses come
+from far and near to visit dem. All de 'portant men come and all de
+sassiety belles jes' drift to our place. Dere sho' lots of big balls and
+dinners and de house fix mighty fine dem times. De women wore de hoop
+skirts and de ribbons and laces. My missy was de bes' lookin' from far
+and near, and all de gem'mans want to dance with her. She sho' look like
+de queen you see in de picture books and she have mighty high ways with
+folks, but she's mighty good to dis here li'l black boy.
+
+"I goes in de buggy with Massa Cushi, up to Tennessee, to git his sons
+what been kilt or wounded. Massa Ned, he dead, and Massa Charles, he
+shot in de hip, and die after he git brung home. Massa Dick hurt, too,
+but he didn't die.
+
+"Right after de Civil War, when I'm 'bout nineteen, I comes to Texas
+with de Connallys, all what didn't git kilt in de war. I stays with
+Missy Mary till she die in Georgia. Her son, Jones Connally, come to
+Brazos County, near Bryan, and after dat removes to Eddy. I works for
+him two years and has lived round Eddy ever since. De Connallys give me
+a house and lot in Eddy. Some de fool niggers 'spected a lot, but I
+wasn't worryin' none. All I wanted was to stay near de Connallys. Mos'
+gen'ly all de slaves what I knowed was found places for and holp git a
+start at jobs and places to live. All de Connally slaves loved dem. Some
+de timber land give to Mrs. Rose Staten and when she go up dere a old
+nigger woman name Lucy sees her. She so happy to see one dem Connally
+chillen she laugh and cry.
+
+"Massa Jones Connally have de twin gals, name Ola and Ella. Olla born
+with de lef' arm off at de elbow and she allus follow me round. When I
+go to milk I puts her in de trough. I saved her life lots of times. One
+time she's on de conb of de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years
+old. I eases up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me.
+'Nother time, I's diggin' de well and some clods falls down and I looks
+up and dere am dat Missy Ola leanin' over, mos' tumblin' in de well on
+her head. I gives de loud yell and her brother-in-law come runnin' and
+grabs her legs.
+
+"Senator Tom Connally, what am a son of Jones Connally, often says he'd
+like to visit his grandpa's old home in Georgia. I'd like mighty well to
+go with him and take him all over de old home place and out to de old
+cemetary."
+
+
+
+
+420079
+
+
+[Illustration: Valmar Cormier]
+
+
+     VALMAR CORMIER was born a slave to Duplissent Dugat, a small
+     slave-holder of Lafayette, Louisiana. He tells his story in a
+     mixture of English and French. As far as he knows, he is nearly 90
+     years old. He now lives with his sister, Mary Moses, in the Pear
+     Orchard Settlement, in Beaumont, Texas.
+
+
+"I 'member de day my old marster go to de war. I kin 'member dat jes'
+like yesterday. He used to like to play de fiddle and make me dance when
+I was li'l, but he went to de war and got kilt. He name Duplissent
+Dugat. Mary, my sister, she don't 'member de old marster.
+
+"De slaves did de work on dat farm. Dey was two growed-ups, my mama,
+Colaste, and my uncle, and dere was us two chillen. My father was a
+white man, a white Creole man. I never carry he name till after freedom.
+
+"Marster was jes' a poor man and he have jes' a ordinary house. De slave
+house was jes' a old plank house 'bout twelve feet by twenty feet and
+have dirt floor. Us cook in de big fireplace and take a log 'bout four
+foot long and have a big iron pot with a iron lid. Dey put red hot coals
+under de pot and on top de lid and dey have a big iron poker with a hook
+on it what dey took de lid off with.
+
+"Befo' dey have coal oil lamp dey used to use homemake candles. Dey'd
+kill de brutes and keep and save all de tallow and one day was set off
+to make de candles. All de neighbors come and dey have kind of party and
+eat and things. Sometime dey make three, four hunnerd candles in one day
+and lay dem in a big box, so dey won't git break.
+
+"Us make soap on de plantation, too. Dey melt de tallow and cracklin's
+and git lye out de fireplace ash. We have cotton and corn and potatoes
+growin', so we has plenty to eat. Us have coosh-coosh, dat cornbread and
+meat, and some fish to eat. Snails us jes' go through de woods and pick
+dem up and eat dem jes' like dat. Us eat plenty crawfish. De chillen git
+string and old piece fat meat and tie on de end, and us go to de bog and
+drap de string down dat crawfish hole. When de old man grab de meat with
+he pincher, den us jerk us up a crawfish, and bile him in hot water, or
+make de gumbo.
+
+"Us drink French coffee befo' de war, but endurin' de war us couldn't
+git de good kind. Den us make coffee out of coffee weed. Dey parch dat
+weed in de iron oven, grind it and put it in de iron pot.
+
+"I seed de sojers and I run under de house, I was so scared. Mary, she
+hide under de bed in de house. De Yankees come take de cattle and went
+'way with dem. I kin sho' rec'lect when dose sojers come and de road was
+full goin' day and night. De Yankees find a lot of Confed'rate sojers
+close to Duson, de other side of Rayne and dey captures lots and brung
+dem back by dere.
+
+"After while it all over and dey told us we free, but my mama kep'
+working for old missus after freedom, 'cause old marster, he kilt in dat
+war. Den old missus die and left three li'l chillen, but I don't know
+what happen to them, 'cause us go to another place and I plow and Mary
+she he'p pick cotton.
+
+"I git marry at 20 and my first wife de French gal. We marry by de
+priest in de church. Us have so many chillen us have to keep a map to
+account for all dem, dere was 19 in all. We stays in Louisiana long
+time, den come to Texas.
+
+
+
+
+420296
+
+
+     LAURA CORNISH was born on the plantation of Isaiah Day, near
+     Dayton, Texas. She "reckons I's 'bout twelve or maybe thirteen
+     years old when all de cullud folks was made free." Laura's memory
+     is poor, but she made an effort to recall slave days. She lives at
+     2915 Nance St., Houston, Texas.
+
+
+"Lawd have mercy 'pon me, when you calls me Aunt Laura it seems jes'
+like you must be some of my white folks, 'cause dat what dey calls me. I
+mean Papa Day's chillen and dere younguns, when dey comes to see me. But
+it been de long time since any of dem come to see old Aunt Laura, and I
+reckon dey most all gone now.
+
+"You know where Dayton is at? Well, dat's where Papa Day's plantation
+was at and where I's borned. I don't know when dat am, 'zactly, but when
+all de cullud folks was made free, I reckons I's 'bout twelve or
+thirteen years old.
+
+"Mama's name was Maria Dunlap and daddy's name was Saul. Mamma was de
+seamstress and don't do nothin' but weave cloth on de spinnin' wheel and
+make clothes. Daddy from Lake Providence, I heared him say, but I don't
+know where at dat is. He do all de carpenter work. I has five sisters
+and two brothers, but dey heaps older dan me and I don't know much 'bout
+dem.
+
+"We 'longs to Papa Day, his name Isaiah, but us all call him Papa Day,
+'cause he won't 'low none he cullud folks to call him master. He say us
+is born free as he is, only de other white folks won't tell us so, and
+our souls is jes' as white, and de reason us am darker on de outside is
+'cause us is sunburnt. I don't reckon dere am anybody as good to dere
+cullud folks as he was.
+
+"Miss Martha, he wife, was mighty good, too. Does any us chillen git
+hurt or scratched, she fix us up and give us a hug. I knows dey has two
+boys and a gal, and dey comes to see me long time after I's free and
+brings dere own chillen. But my mem'ry am sort of foggy-like and I can't
+'member dere names now.
+
+"De only work Papa Day 'lows us chillen do am pick de boles close to de
+ground, and dat mostly fun, and us ride to de house on de wagon what
+takes de pickin' at night. Papa Day don't make he cullud folks work
+Saturdays and Sundays and dey can visit round on other plantations, and
+he say nobody better bother us none, either.
+
+"One time us chillen playin' out in de woods and seed two old men what
+look like wild men, sho' 'nough. Dey has long hair all over de face and
+dere shirts all bloody. Us run and tell Papa Day and he makes us take
+him dere and he goes in de briar patch where dem men hidin'. Dey takes
+him round de knees and begs him do he not tell dere massa where dey at,
+'cause dey maybe git kilt. Dey say dey am old Lodge and Baldo and dey
+run 'way 'cause dere massa whips dem, 'cause dey so old dey can't work
+good no more. Papa Day has tears comin' in he eyes. Dey can't hardly
+walk, so he sends dem to de house and has Aunt Mandy, de cook, fix up
+somethin' to eat quick. I never seed sech eatin', dey so hongry. He puts
+dem in a house and tells us not to say nothin'. Den he rides off on he
+hoss and goes to dere massa and tells him 'bout it, and jes' dares him
+to come git dem. He pays de man some money and Lodge and Baldo stays
+with Papa Day and I guess day thunk dey in Heaven.
+
+"One mornin' Papa Day calls all us to de house and reads de freedom
+papers and say, 'De gov'ment don't need to tell you you is free, 'cause
+you been free all you days. If you wants to stay you can and if you
+wants to go, you can. But if you go, lots of white folks ain't gwine
+treat you like I does.'
+
+"For de longest time, maybe two years, dey wasn't none of Papa Day's
+cullud folks what left, but den first one fam'ly den 'nother gits some
+land to make a crop on, and den daddy gits some land and us leaves, too.
+Maybe he gits de land from Papa Day, 'cause it an't far from his
+plantation. Us sho' work hard on dat place, but I heared mama say lots
+of times she wishes we stay on Papa Day's place.
+
+"I 'member one year us don't make no crop hardly and daddy say he gwine
+git out 'fore us starves to death, and he moves to Houston. He gits a
+job doin' carpenter work and hires me out for de housegirl. But mama
+dies and daddy takes sick and dies, too. Lawd have mercy, dat sho' de
+hard time for me when I loses my mama and daddy, and I has to go to
+Dayton and stay with my sister, Rachel. Both my husbands what I marries
+done been dead a long time now, and de only child I ever had died when
+he jes' a baby. Now I's jes' alone, sittin' and waitin' for de Lawd to
+call me."
+
+
+
+
+420260
+
+
+[Illustration: John Crawford]
+
+
+     JOHN CRAWFORD, 81, was born a slave on Judge Thompson Rector's
+     plantation at Manor, Texas. After emancipation, John was a
+     share-cropper. He has always lived in Travis County and is now
+     cared for by a daughter at Austin.
+
+
+"John Crawford am me. It am eighty-one years since I's borned and dat's
+on de old Rector plantation where Manor am now. It wasn't dere den. I
+knowed the man it was named after.
+
+"Ma's name was Viney Rector and the old judge brung her from Alabama.
+She milked all the cows two times a day and I had to turn out all de
+calves. Sometimes dey'd git purty rough and go right to dere mammies.
+
+"Pap's name was Tom Townes, 'cause he 'longed on de Townes place. He was
+my step-pap and when I's growed I tooken my own pap's name, what was
+Crawford. I never seed him, though, and didn't know nothin' much 'bout
+him. He's sold away 'fore I's borned.
+
+"Pap Townes could make most everythin'. He made turnin' plows and
+hossshoe nails and a good lot of furniture. He was purty good to me,
+'siderin' he wasn't my own pap. I didn't have no hard time, noway. I had
+plenty bacon and side-meat and 'lasses. Every Sunday mornin' the jedge
+give us our rations for de week. He wasn't short with dem, neither.
+
+"Many was de time Injuns come to Jedge Rector's place. Dem Injuns beg
+for somethin' and the jedge allus give dem somethin'. They wasn't mean
+Injuns, jes' allus beggin'.
+
+"I can't read and write to this day. Nobody ever larnt me my A B C's and
+I didn't git no chance at school.
+
+"On Christmas mornin' Massa Rector come out and give each man and woman
+a big, red pocket handkerchief and a bottle of liquor. He buyed dat
+liquor by de barrel and liked it hisself. Dat why he allus had it on de
+place.
+
+"One mornin' the jedge done send word down by de cook for nobody to go
+to de fields dat day. We all want up to de big house and de jedge git up
+to make de speech, but am too choke up to talk. He hated to lose he
+slaves, I reckon. So his son-in-law has to say, 'You folks am now free
+and can go where you wants to go. You can stay here and pick cotton and
+git fifty cents de hunerd.' But only two families stayed. De rest pulled
+out.
+
+"After freedom we rented land on de halves. Some niggers soon got ahead
+and rented on de third or fourth. When you rent that-a-way you git three
+bales and de boss git one. But you has to buy you own teams and seed and
+all on dat plan.
+
+"Its a fac' we was told we'd git forty acres and a mule. Dat de talk
+den, but we never did git it.
+
+"De Ku Klux made a lot of devilment round-about dat county. Dey allus
+chasin' some nigger and beatin' him up. But some dem niggers sho' 'serve
+it. When dey gits free, dey gits wild. Dey won't work or do nothin' and
+thinks dey don't have to. We didn't have no trouble, 'cause we stays on
+de farm and works and don't have no truck with dem wild niggers.
+
+"In 1877 I marries Fannie Black at de town of Sprinkle. It wasn't sech a
+town, jes' a li'l place. Me and her stayed married fifty-two years and
+four months. She died and left me eight year ago. We had seven chillen
+and they is all livin'. Four is here in Austin and two in California and
+one in Ohio.
+
+"I gits a li'l pension, $9.00 de month, and my gal, Susie, takes care of
+me. I ain't got long to go now 'fore de Lawd gwine call me.
+
+
+
+
+420076
+
+
+[Illustration: Green Cumby]
+
+
+     GREEN CUMBY, 86, was born a slave of the Robert H. Cumby family, in
+     Henderson, Texas. He was about 14 at the close of the Civil War. He
+     stayed with his old master four years after he was freed, then
+     married and settled in Tyler, Texas, where he worked for the
+     compress 30 years. He lives with his daughter at 749 Mesquite St.,
+     Abilene, Texas.
+
+
+"Durin' slavery I had purty rough times. My grandfather, Tater Cumby,
+was cullud overseer for forty slaves and he called us at four in de
+mornin' and we worked from sun to sun. Most of de time we worked on
+Sunday, too.
+
+"De white overseers whupped us with straps when we didn't do right. I
+seed niggers in chains lots of times, 'cause there wasn't no jails and
+they jus' chained 'em to trees.
+
+"Spec'lators on hosses drove big bunches of slaves past our place from
+one place to another, to auction 'em at de market places. De women would
+be carryin' l'il ones in dere arms and at night dey bed 'em down jus'
+like cattle right on de ground 'side of de road. Lots of l'il chillun
+was sold 'way from de mammy when dey seven or eight, or even smaller.
+Dat's why us cullud folks don't know our kinfolks to dis day.
+
+"De best times was when de corn shuckin' was at hand. Den you didn't
+have to bother with no pass to leave de plantation, and de patter rolls
+didn't bother you. If de patter rolls cotch you without de pass any
+other time, you better wish you dead, 'cause you would have yourself
+some trouble.
+
+"But de corn shuckin', dat was de gran' times. All de marsters and dere
+black boys from plantations from miles 'round would be dere. Den when we
+got de corn pile high as dis house, de table was spread out under de
+shade. All de boys dat 'long to old marster would take him on de
+packsaddle 'round de house, den dey bring him to de table and sit by he
+side; den all de boys dat 'long to Marster Bevan from another plantation
+take him on de packsaddle 'round and 'round de house, allus singin' and
+dancin', den dey puts him at de other side de table, and dey all do de
+same till everybody at de table, den dey have de feast.
+
+"To see de runaway slaves in de woods scared me to death. They'd try to
+snatch you and hold you, so you couldn't go tell. Sometimes dey cotched
+dem runaway niggers and dey be like wild animals and have to be tamed
+over 'gain. Dere was a white man call Henderson had 60 bloodhounds and
+rents 'em out to run slaves. I well rec'lect de hounds run through our
+place one night, chasin' de slave what kilt his wife by runnin' de
+harness needle through her heart. Dey cotch him and de patter rolls took
+him to Henderson and hangs him.
+
+"De patter rolls dey chases me plenty times, but I's lucky, 'cause dey
+never cotched me. I slips off to see de gal on de nex' plantation and I
+has no pass and they chases me and was I scairt! You should have seed me
+run through dat bresh, 'cause I didn't dare go out on de road or de
+path. It near tore de clothes off me, but I goes on and gits home and
+slides under de house. But I'd go to see dat gal every time, patter
+rolls or no patter rolls, and I gits trained so's I could run 'most as
+fast as a rabbit.
+
+"De white chillun larned us to read and write at night, but I never paid
+much 'tention, but I kin read de testament now. Other times at night de
+slaves gathers round de cabins in little bunches and talks till bedtime.
+Sometimes we'd dance and someone would knock out time for us by snappin'
+de fingers and slappin' de knee. We didn't have nothin' to make de music
+on.
+
+"We mos'ly lived on corn pone and salt bacon de marster give us. We
+didn't have no gardens ourselves, 'cause we wouldn't have time to work
+in dem. We worked all day in de fields and den was so tired we couldn't
+do nothin' more.
+
+"My mammy doctored us when we was feelin' bad and she'd take dog-fenley,
+a yaller lookin' weed, and brew tea, and it driv de chills and de fever
+out of us. Sometimes she put horse mint on de pallet with us to make us
+sweat and driv de fever 'way. For breakfast she'd make us sass' fras
+tea, to clear our blood.
+
+"My marstar and his two step-sons goes to de war. De marster was a big
+gen'ral on de southern side. I didn't know what dey fightin' 'bout for a
+long time, den I heered it 'bout freedom and I felt like it be Heaven
+here on earth to git freedom, 'spite de fac' I allus had de good
+marster. He sho' was good to us, but you knows dat ain't de same as
+bein' free.
+
+
+
+
+420124
+
+
+[Illustration: Tempie Cummins]
+
+
+     TEMPIE CUMMINS was born at Brookeland, Texas, sometime before the
+     Civil War, but does not know her exact age. William Neyland owned
+     Tempie and her parents. She now lives alone in a small,
+     weather-beaten shack in the South Quarters, a section of Jasper,
+     Tex.
+
+
+"They call me Tempie Cummins and I was born at Brookeland but I don'
+know jus' the 'xact date. My father's name was Jim Starkins and my
+mother's name was Charlotte Brooks and both of 'em come from Alabama. I
+had jus' one brudder, Bill, and four sisters named Margaret and Hannah
+and Mary and 'Liza. Life was good when I was with them and us play
+round. Miss Fannie Neyland, she Mis' Phil Scarborough now, she raise me,
+'cause I was give to them when I was eight year old.
+
+"I slep' on a pallet on the floor. They give me a homespun dress onct a
+year at Christmas time. When company come I had to run and slip on that
+dress. At other time I wore white chillens' cast-off clothes so wore
+they was ready to throw away. I had to pin them up with red horse thorns
+to hide my nakedness. My dress was usually split from hem to neck and I
+had to wear them till they was strings. Went barefoot summer and winter
+till the feets crack open.
+
+"I never seed my grandparents 'cause my mother she sold in Alabama when
+she's 17 and they brung her to Texas and treat her rough. At mealtime
+they hand me a piece of cornbread and tell me 'Run 'long.' Sometime I
+git little piece of meat and biscuit, 'bout onct a month. I gathered up
+scraps the white chillens lef'.
+
+"Marster was rough. He take two beech switches and twist them together
+and whip 'em to a stub. Many's the time I's bled from them whippin's.
+Our old mistus, she try to be good to us, I reckon, but she was turrible
+lazy. She had two of us to wait on her and then she didn' treat us good.
+
+"Marster had 30 or 40 acres and he raise cotton, and corn and 'tatoes.
+He used to raise 12 bales cotton a year and then drink it all up. We
+work from daylight till dark, and after. Marster punish them what didn'
+work hard enough.
+
+"The white chillen tries teach me to read and write but I didn' larn
+much, 'cause I allus workin'. Mother was workin' in the house, and she
+cooked too. She say she used to hide in the chimney corner and listen to
+what the white folks say. When freedom was 'clared, marster wouldn' tell
+'em, but mother she hear him tellin' mistus that the slaves was free but
+they didn' know it and he's not gwineter tell 'em till he makes another
+crop or two. When mother hear that she say she slip out the chimney
+corner and crack her heels together four times and shouts, 'I's free,
+I's free.' Then she runs to the field, 'gainst marster's will and tol'
+all the other slaves and they quit work. Then she run away and in the
+night she slip into a big ravine near the house and have them bring me
+to her. Marster, he come out with his gun and shot at mother but she run
+down the ravine and gits away with me.
+
+"I seed lots of ghosties when I's young. I couldn' sleep for them. I's
+kind of outgrowed them now. But one time me and my younges' chile was
+comin' over to church and right near the dippin' vat is two big gates
+and when we git to them, out come a big old white ox, with long legs and
+horns and when he git 'bout halfway, he turns into a man with a Panama
+hat on. He follers us to Sandy Creek bridge. Sometimes at night I sees
+that same spirit sittin' on that bridge now.
+
+"My old man say, in slavery time, when he's 21, he had to pass a place
+where patterroles whipped slaves and had kilt some. He was sittin' on a
+load of fodder and there come a big light wavin' down the road and
+scarin' the team and the hosses drag him and near kilt him.
+
+
+
+
+420070
+
+
+[Illustration: Adeline Cunningham]
+
+
+     ADELINE CUNNINGHAM, 1210 Florida St., born 1852, was a slave in
+     Lavaca County, 4-1/2 miles n.e. of Hallettsville. She was a slave
+     of Washington Greenlee Foley and his grandson, John Woods. The
+     Foley plantation consisted of several square leagues, each league
+     containing 4,428.4 acres. Adeline is tall, spare and primly erect,
+     with fiery brown eyes, which snap when she recalls the slave days.
+     The house is somewhat pretentious and well furnished. The day was
+     hot and the granddaughter prepared ice water for her grandmother
+     and the interviewer. House and porch were very clean.
+
+
+"I was bo'n on ole man Foley's plantation in Lavaca County. He's got
+more'n 100 slaves. He always buy slaves and he never sell. How many
+acres of lan' he got? Lawd, dat man ain't got acres, he got leagues. Dey
+raises cotton and co'n, and cattle and hawgs. Ole man Foley's plantation
+run over Lavaca and Colorado county, he got 1600 acres in one block and
+some of it on de Navidad River. Ole man Foley live in a big log house
+wid two double rooms and a hall, and he build a weavin' house agin his
+own house and dey's anudder house wid de spinnin' wheels. And ole man
+Foley run his own cotton gin and his own grindin' mill where dey grinds
+de co'n and dey got a big potato patch.
+
+"Dey was rough people and dey treat ev'ry body rough. We lives in de
+quarter; de houses all jine close togedder but you kin walk 'tween 'em.
+All de cabins has one room and mostly two fam'lies bunks togedder in de
+one room wid dirt floors. De slaves builds de cabins, de slaves got no
+money, dey got no land.
+
+"No suh, we never goes to church. Times we sneaks in de woods and prays
+de Lawd to make us free and times one of de slaves got happy and made a
+noise dat dey heered at de big house and den de overseer come and whip
+us 'cause we prayed de Lawd to set us free.
+
+"You know what a stockman is? He is a man dat buys and sells cattle.
+Ev'ry year de stockman comes to ole man Foley's and he lines us up in de
+yard and de stockman got a lotta slaves tied togedder and ole man Foley
+he buys some slaves but he won't sell none. Yassuh, de stockman buys and
+sells de slaves jes' de same as cattle.
+
+"Dey feeds us well sometimes, if dey warn't mad at us. Dey has a big
+trough jes' like de trough for de pigs and dey has a big gourd and dey
+totes de gourd full of milk and dey breaks de bread in de milk. Den my
+mammy takes a gourd and fills it and gives it to us chillun. How's we
+eat it? We had oyster shells for spoons and de slaves comes in from de
+fields and dey hands is all dirty, and dey is hungry. Dey dips de dirty
+hands right in de trough and we can't eat none of it. De women wuks in
+de fields until dey has chillun and when de chillun's ole enough to wuk
+in de fields den de mother goes to ole man Foley's house. Dere she's a
+house servant and wuks at spinnin' and weavin' de cotton. Dey makes all
+de clothes for ole man Foley and his fam'ly and for de slaves.
+
+"No suh, we ain't got no holidays. Sundays we grinds co'n and de men
+split rails and hoes wid de grubbin' hoe. Ole man Foley has a blacksmif
+shop and a slave does de blacksmiffin. De slaves builds cabins wid split
+logs and dey makes de roof tight wid co'n shucks and grass. One time a
+month, times one time in two months, dey takes us to de white folks
+church.
+
+"Dey's four or five preachers and de slaves. Iffen deys a marriage de
+preacher has a book. He's gotter keep it hid, 'cause dey's afraid iffen
+de slaves learns to read dey learns how to run away. One of de slaves
+runs away and dey ketches him and puts his eyes out. Dey catches anudder
+slave dat run away and dey hanged him up by de arm. Yassuh, I see dat
+wid my own eyes; dey holds de slave up by one arm, dey puts a iron on
+his knee and a iron on his feet and drag 'im down but his feet cain't
+reach de groun'.
+
+"Ole man Foley ain't bad, but de overseers is mean. No suh, we never
+gits no money and we never gits no lan'. Ole man Foley, he wants to give
+us sumpin for gardens but Mr. John Woods, his gran'son, is agin it.
+
+"Was I glad when dat was over? Wouldn' you be? It's long after we's free
+dat I gits married. Yassuh, and I live in San Antonio 'bout 20 years."
+
+
+
+
+420035
+
+
+[Illustration: Will Daily's House]
+
+[Illustration: Will Daily]
+
+
+     WILL DAILY, was born in 1858 in Missouri, near the city of St.
+     Louis. He was a slave of the John Daily family and served as chore
+     boy around the house, carried the breakfast to the field and always
+     drove up the horses on the plantation. The latter duty developed a
+     fondness for horses which led to a career as a race horse rider and
+     trainer. He remained with his white folks several years after
+     freedom and in Missouri many years longer in this work. He came to
+     San Angelo, Texas in 1922 and took up hotel work which he followed
+     until his health broke, only a few years ago. He now lives in his
+     small home, in the colored district of the city and depends on his
+     old age pension for a livelihood.
+
+
+"Huh! What you say, did you say somethin' 'bout de ole age pension?",
+questioned Will when approached on the slavery question, but he answered
+readily, "Sho! sho' I was a slave an' I aint ashamed to admit dat I
+was. Some of dese here fellers thinks dey sounds ole when dey says dey
+was slaves and dey denies it but I's proud enough of de good treatment
+I's got, to allus tell about it. My marster had a driver but he say his
+niggers was human, wid human feelin's, so he makes dat driver reports to
+him fer what little thrashin's we gits. Course we had to do de right
+thing but jes' some how did, mos' of de time 'cause he was good to us.
+Soon as I was big enough, about four or five years ole, ole miss, she
+starts trainin' me fer a house boy. I's a doin' all sorts of chores by
+de time I was six years old. Den ole marster he starts sendin' me out on
+de plantation to drive up de hosses. I sho' likes dat job 'cause aint
+nothin' I loves any better den hosses. Den when I was bigger he starts
+me to carryin' de breakfast to de field whar de grown niggers had been
+out workin' since way 'fore day. Dey all done dat. Dey say de days
+wasn't long enough to put in enough time so dey works part of de night.
+
+"We had good grub 'cause we raised all de co'n and de hogs and de cows
+and chickens and plenty of everything. Mos' times we have biscuits and
+bacon and syrup for breakfast and butter too if we wants it but mos'
+niggers dey likes dat fat bacon de bes'.
+
+"Our log cabins was good and comfortable. Dey was all along in a row and
+built out of de same kind of logs what our marsters house was.
+
+"We had good beds and dey was clean.
+
+"I nev'r had no money when I was a slave 'cause I was jes' a small boy
+when de slaves was set free.
+
+"We had lots of fish and rabbits, more den we had 'possum but we sho'
+likes dat 'possum when we could git it.
+
+"My marster had about three hundred slaves and a big plantation.
+
+"I seen some slaves sold off dat big auction block and de little chillun
+sho' would be a cryin' when dey takes dere mothers away from dem.
+
+"We didn' have no jail 'cause my marster didn' believe dat way, but I's
+seen other slaves in dem chains and things.
+
+"We didn' know nothin' 'bout no learnin' nor no church neither and when
+de slaves die dey was jes' buried without no singin' or nothin'.
+
+"When de war started, my father, he goes and once I remember he comes
+home on a furlough and we was all so glad, den when he goes back he gits
+killed and we nev'r see him no mo'.
+
+"We had de doctor and good care when we was sick. I's don't remember
+much 'bout what kinds of medicine we took but I's know it was mostly
+home-made.
+
+"We all wears dat asafoetida on a string 'round our necks and sometimes
+we carry a rabbit's foot in our pockets fer good luck.
+
+"When de war was ended and de slaves was free old Uncle Pete, our oldest
+slave, comes a-walkin' up from de woods whar he always go to keeps from
+bein' bothered, to read his Bible, and he had dat Bible under his arm
+an' he say, 'I's know somethin', me an' de Lawd knows somethin'', and
+den he tells us. He say, 'You all is free people now, you can go when
+you please and come when you pleases and you can stay here or go some
+other place'. Well I had to stay 'cause my mother stayed and I's jes'
+keeps on ridin' dem race hosses 'til long after my marster was dead, den
+I's gits me some hosses of my own and train other men's hosses too.
+
+"I's worked at dat racin' business 'til I's come to Texas and when I
+went to work in hotels dat killed me up. I's done ev'r thing from makin'
+soap fer de scrubbin', to cookin' de bes' meals fer de bes' hotels. I
+aint been no good since, though, and I had to quit several years ago.
+
+"De first time I was married was to Phillis Reed in Missouri and we jes'
+jumps over de broom, and after Phillis die and I comes to Texas I's gits
+married again to Susie, here in San Angelo; we jes' jumps ov'r de broom
+too. I's nev'r had no chillun of my own so I's jes' a settin' here
+a-livin' off de ole age pension."
+
+
+
+
+420029
+
+
+[Illustration: Julie Francis Daniels]
+
+
+     JULIA FRANCIS DANIELS, born in 1848, in Georgia, a slave of the
+     Denman family, who moved to Texas before the Civil War. Julia's
+     memory fails her when she tries to recall names and dates. She
+     still tries to take part in church activities and has recently
+     started to learn reading and writing. She lives with a daughter at
+     2523 Spring St. Dallas, Texas.
+
+
+"They's lots I disremembers and they's lots I remembers, like the year
+the war's over and the fightin' all done with, 'cause that the year I
+larned to plow and that the time I got married. That's the very year
+they larned me to plow. I larnt all right, 'cause I wasn't one slow to
+larn anything. Afore to that time, they ain't never had no hoe in the
+field for me a-tall. I jes' toted water for the ones in the field.
+
+"I had plenty brothers and sisters, 'bout ten of 'em, but I disremembers
+some they names. There was Tom and George and Marthy and Mandy, and
+they's all name' Denman, 'cause my mammy and daddy was Lottie and Boyd
+Denman and they come from Georgia to Cherokee County and then to Houston
+County, near by to Crockett, with Old Man Denman. He was the one owned
+all us till he 'vided some with Miss Lizzie when she marries Mr. Cramer.
+
+"My daddy worked in the fields with Uncle Lot and my brothers, and my
+Uncle Joe, he's driver. But Briscoe am overseer and he a white man. He
+can't never whup the growed mens like he wants, 'cause they don't let
+him unless he ask Old Man Denman. I seed him whup 'em, though. He make
+'em take off the shirt and whup with the strap.
+
+"Now, my mammy was cook in the Denman house and for our family and Uncle
+Joe's family. She didn't have much time for anythin' but cookin' all the
+time. But she's the bestes' cook. Us had fine greens and hawgs and beef.
+Us et collard greens and pork till us got skittish of it and then they
+quit the pork and kilt a beef. When they done that, they's jus' pourin'
+water on our wheels, 'cause us liked best of anythin' the beef, and I do
+to this day, only I can't never git it.
+
+"Old Man Denman had a boy what kilt squirrels and throwed 'em in the
+kitchen. The white folks et them. You ain't never seen no white folks
+then would eat rabbit. I had a brother who hunted. Mostly on Sundays.
+He'd leave for the swamps 'fore daybreak and we'd know when we'd hear
+him callin', 'O-o-o-o-o-da-da-ske-e-e-e-t,' he had somethin'. That jus'
+a make-up of he own, but we knowed they's rabbits for the pot.
+
+"All the mens don't hunt on Sunday, 'cause Uncle Joe helt meetin' in
+front he house. Us look out the door and seed Uncle Joe settin' the
+benches straight and settin' he table out under the trees and sweepin'
+clean the leaves and us know they's gwine be meetin'. They's the
+loveliest days that ever they was. Night times, too, they'd make it
+'tween 'em whether it'd be at our house or Uncle Joe's. We'd ask niggers
+from other farms and I used to say, 'I likes meetin' jus' as good as I
+likes a party.'
+
+"When crops is laid by us have the most parties and dence and sing and
+have play games. The reels is what I used to like but I done quit that
+foolishness many a year ago. I used to cut a step or two. I remembers
+one reel call the 'Devil's Dream.' It's a fast song
+
+"'Oh, de Devil drempt a dream,
+He drempt it on a Friday--
+He drempt he cotch a sinner.'
+
+"Old Man Denman am the great one for 'viding he property and when Miss
+Lizzie marries with Mr. Creame Cramer, which am her dead sister's
+husband, Old Man Denman give me and two my sisters to Miss Lizzie and he
+gives two more my sisters to he son. Us goes with Miss Lizzie to the
+Cramer place and lives in the back yard in a little room by the back
+door.
+
+"Everything fine and nice there till one day Miss Lizzie say to me,
+'Julia, go down to the well and fetch me some water,' and I goes and I
+seed in the road a heap of men all in gray and ridin' hosses, comin' our
+way. I runs back to the house and calls Miss Lizzie. She say, 'What you
+scairt for?' I tells her 'bout them men and she say they ain't gwine
+hurt me none, they jus' wants some water. I goes back to the well and
+heared 'em talk 'bout a fight. I goes back to the house and some of the
+mens comes to the gate and says to Mr. Cramer, 'How're you, Creame?' He
+say, 'I's all right in my health but I ain't so good in my mind.' They
+says, 'What the matter, Creame?' He say, 'I want to be in the fight so
+bad.'
+
+"When they goes I asks Miss Lizzie what they fightin' 'bout and she say
+it am 'bout money. That all I knows. Right after that Mr. Cramer goes
+and we don't never see him no more. Word come back from the fightin' he
+makes some the big, high mens mad and they puts chains 'round he ankles
+and make him dig a stump in the hot sun. He ain't used to that and it
+give him fever to the brain and he dies.
+
+"When Mr. Cramer goes 'way, Miss Lizzie takes us all and goes back to
+Old Man Denman's. The sojers used to pass and all the whoopin' and
+hollerin' and carryin' on, you ain't never heered the likes! They
+hollers, 'Who-o-o-o, Old Man Denman, how's your chickens?' And they
+chunks and throws at 'em till they cripples 'em up and puts 'em in they
+bags, for cookin'. Old Man Denman cusses at 'em somethin' powerful.
+
+"My sister Mandy and me am down in the woods a good, fur piece from the
+house and us keeps heerin' a noise. My brother comes down and finds me
+and say, 'Come git your dinner.' When I gits there dinner am top the
+gate post and he say they's sojers in the woods and they has been
+persecutin' a old woman on a mule. She was a nigger woman. I gits so
+scairt I can't eat my dinner. I ain't got no heart for victuals. My
+brother say, 'Wait for pa, he comin' with the mule and he'll hide you
+out.' I gits on the mule front of pa and us pass through the sojers and
+they grabs at us and says, 'Gimme the gal, gimme the gal.' Pa say I
+faints plumb 'way.
+
+"Us heered guns shootin' round and 'bout all the time. Seems like they
+fit every time they git a chance. Old Man Denman's boy gits kilt and two
+my sisters he property and they don't know what to do, 'cause they has
+to be somebody's property and they ain't no one to 'heritance 'em. They
+has to go to the auction but Old Man Denman say not to fret. At the
+auction the man say, 'Goin' high, goin' low, goin' mighty slow, a little
+while to go. Bid 'em in, bid 'em in. The sun am high, the sun am hot, us
+got to git home tonight.' An old friend of Old Man Denman's hollers out
+he buys for William Blackstone. Us all come home and my sisters too and
+Old Man Denman laugh big and say, 'My name allus been William Blackstone
+Denman.'
+
+"I's a woman growed when the war was to a end. I had my first baby when
+I's fourteen. One day my sister call me and say, 'They's fit out, and
+they's been surrenderin' and ain't gwine fight no more.' That dusk Old
+Man Denman call all us niggers together and stand on he steps and make
+he speech, 'Mens and womans, you is free as I am. You is free to go
+where you wants but I is beggin' yous to stay by me till us git the
+crops laid by.' Then he say, 'Study it over 'fore you gives me you
+answer. I is always try as my duty to be fair to you.'
+
+"The mens talks it over a-twixt theyselves and includes to stay. They
+says us might as well stay there as go somewhere else, and us got no
+money and no place to go.
+
+"Then Miss Lizzie marries with Mr. Joe McMahon and I goes with her to he
+house near by and he say he larn me to plow. Miss Lizzie say, 'Now,
+Julia, you knows how to plow and don't make no fool of yourself and act
+like you ain't never seed no plow afore.' Us make a corn crop and goes
+on 'bout same as afore.
+
+"I gits married that very year and has a little fixin' for the weddin',
+bakes some cakes and I have a dress with buttons and a preacher marries
+me. I ain't used to wearin' nothin' but loring (a simple one piece
+garment made from sacking). Unnerwear? I ain't never wore no unnerwear
+then.
+
+"My husband rents a little piece of land and us raise a corn crop and
+that's the way us do. Us raises our own victuals. I has 17 chillen
+through the year and they done scatter to the four winds. Some of them
+is dead. I ain't what I used to be for workin'. I jus' set 'round. I
+done plenty work in my primer days.
+
+
+
+
+420015
+
+
+[Illustration: Katie Darling]
+
+
+     KATIE DARLING, about 88, was born a slave on the plantation of
+     William McCarty, on the Elysian Fields Road, nine miles south of
+     Marshall, Texas. Katie was a nurse and housegirl in the McCarty
+     household until five years after the end of the Civil War. She then
+     moved to Marshall and married. Her husband and her three children
+     are dead and she is supported by Griffin Williams, a boy she found
+     homeless and reared. They live in a neat three-room shack in Sunny
+     South addition of Marshall, Texas.
+
+
+"You is talkin' now to a nigger what nussed seven white chillen in them
+bullwhip days. Miss Stella, my young missy, got all our ages down in she
+Bible, and it say I's born in 1849. Massa Bill McCarty my massa and he
+live east and south of Marshall, clost to the Louisiana line. Me and my
+three brudders, Peter and Adam and Willie, all lives to be growed and
+married, but mammy die in slavery and pappy run 'way while he and Massa
+Bill on they way to the battle of Mansfield. Massa say when he come back
+from the war, 'That triflin' nigger run 'way and jines up with them damn
+Yankees.'
+
+"Massa have six chillen when war come on and I nussed all of 'em. I
+stays in the house with 'em and slep' on a pallet on the floor, and soon
+I's big 'nough to tote the milk pail they puts me to milkin', too. Massa
+have more'n 100 cows and most the time me and Violet do all the milkin'.
+We better be in that cowpen by five o'clock. One mornin' massa cotched
+me lettin' one the calves do some milkin' and he let me off without
+whippin' that time, but that don't mean he allus good, 'cause them cows
+have more feelin' for than massa and missy.
+
+"We et peas and greens and collards and middlin's. Niggers had better
+let that ham alone! We have meal coffee. They parch meal in the oven and
+bile it and drink the liquor. Sometime we gits some of the Lincoln
+coffee what was lef' from the nex' plantation.
+
+"When the niggers done anything massa bullwhip them, but didn't skin
+them up very often. He'd whip the man for half doin' the plowin' or
+hoein' but if they done it right he'd find something else to whip them
+for. At night the men had to shuck corn and the women card and spin. Us
+got two pieces of clothes for winter and two for summer, but us have no
+shoes. We had to work Saturday all day and if that grass was in the
+field we didn't git no Sunday, either.
+
+"They have dances and parties for the white folks' chillen, but missy
+say, 'Niggers was made to work for white folks,' and on Christmas Miss
+Irene bakes two cakes for the nigger families but she darsn't let missy
+know 'bout it.
+
+"When a slave die, massa make the coffin hisself and send a couple
+niggers to bury the body and say, 'Don't be long,' and no singin' or
+prayin' 'lowed, jus' put them in the ground and cover 'em up and hurry
+on back to that field.
+
+"Niggers didn't cou't then like they do now, massa pick out a po'tly man
+and a po'tly gal and jist put 'em together. What he want am the stock.
+
+"I 'member that fight at Mansfield like it yes'day. Massas's field am
+all tore up with cannon holes and ever' time a cannon fire, missy go off
+in a rage. One time when a cannon fire, she say to me, 'You li'l black
+wench, you niggers ain't gwine be free. You's made to work for white
+folks.' 'Bout that time she look up and see a Yankee sojer standin' in
+the door with a pistol. She say, 'Katie, I didn't say anythin', did I?'
+I say, 'I ain't tellin' no lie, you say niggers ain't gwine git free.'
+
+"That day you couldn't git 'round the place for the Yankees and they
+stays for weeks at a time.
+
+"When massa come home from the war he wants let us loose, but missy
+wouldn't do it. I stays on and works for them six years after the war
+and missy whip me after the war jist like she did 'fore. She has a
+hun'erd lashes laid up for me now, and this how it am. My brudders done
+lef' massa after the war and move nex' door to the Ware place, and one
+Saturday some niggers come and tell me my brudder Peter am comin' to git
+me 'way from old missy Sunday night. That night the cows and calves got
+together and missy say it my fault. She say, 'I'm gwine give you one
+hun'erd lashes in the mornin', now go pen them calves.'
+
+"I don't know whether them calves was ever penned or not, 'cause Peter
+was waitin' for me at the lot and takes me to live with him on the Ware
+place. I's so happy to git away from that old devil missy, I don't know
+what to do, and I stays there sev'ral years and works out here and there
+for money. Then I marries and moves here and me and my man farms and
+nothin' 'citin' done happened."
+
+
+
+
+420046
+
+
+[Illustration: Carey Davenport]
+
+
+     CAREY DAVENPORT, retired Methodist minister of Anahuac, Texas,
+     appears sturdy despite his 83 years. He was reared a slave of Capt.
+     John Mann, in Walker Co., Texas. His wife, who has been his devoted
+     companion for 60 years, was born in slavery just before
+     emancipation. Carey is very fond of fishing and spends much time
+     with hook and line. He is fairly well educated and is influential
+     among his fellow Negroes.
+
+
+"If I live till the 13th of August I'll be 82 years old. I was born in
+1855 up in Walker County but since then they split the county and the
+place I was born is just across the line in San Jacinto County now. Jim
+and Janey Davenport was my father and mother and they come from
+Richmond, Virginia. I had two sisters, Betty and Harriet, and a half
+brother, William.
+
+"Our old master's name was John Mann but they called him Capt. Mann. Old
+missus' name was Sarah. I'd say old master treated us slaves bad and
+there was one thing I couldn't understand, 'cause he was 'ligious and
+every Sunday mornin' everybody had to git ready and go for prayer. I
+never could understand his 'ligion, 'cause sometimes he git up off his
+knees and befo' we git out the house he cuss us out.
+
+"All my life I been a Methodist and I been a regular preacher 43 years.
+Since I quit I been livin' here at Anahuac and seems like I do 'bout as
+much preachin' now as I ever done.
+
+"I don't member no cullud preachers in slavery times. The white
+Methodist circuit riders come round on horseback and preach. There was a
+big box house for a church house and the cullud folks sit off in one
+corner of the church.
+
+"Sometimes the cullud folks go down in dugouts and hollows and hold they
+own service and they used to sing songs what come a-gushin' up from the
+heart.
+
+"They was 'bout 40 slaves on the place, but I never seed no slaves
+bought or sold and I never was sold, but I seen 'em beat--O, Lawd, yes.
+I seen 'em make a man put his head through the crack of the rail fence
+and then they beat him till he was bloody. They give some of 'em 300 or
+400 licks.
+
+"Old man Jim, he run away lots and sometimes they git the dogs after
+him. He run away one time and it was so cold his legs git frozen and
+they have to cut his legs off. Sometimes they put chains on runaway
+slaves and chained 'em to the house. I never knowed of 'em puttin' bells
+on the slaves on our place, but over next to us they did. They had a
+piece what go round they shoulders and round they necks with pieces up
+over they heads and hung up the bell on the piece over they head.
+
+"I was a sheep minder them days. The wolves was bad but they never
+tackled me, 'cause they'd ruther git the sheep. They like sheep meat
+better'n man meat. Old Captain wanted me to train he boy to herd sheep
+and one day young master see a sow with nine pigs and want me to catch
+them and I wouldn't do it. He tried to beat me up and when we git to the
+lot we have to go round to the big gate and he had a pine knot, and he
+catch me in the gate and hit me with that knot. Old Captain sittin' on
+the gallery and he seed it all. When he heered the story he whipped
+young master and the old lady, she ain't like it.
+
+"One time after that she sittin' in the yard knittin' and she throwed
+her knittin' needle off and call me to come git it. I done forgot she
+wanter whip me and when I bring the needle she grab me and I pull away
+but she hold on my shirt. I run round and round and she call her mother
+and they catch and whip me. My shirt just had one button on it and I was
+pullin' and gnawin' on that button and directly it come off and the
+whole shirt pull off and I didn't have nothin' on but my skin. I run and
+climb up on the pole at the gate and sot there till master come. He say,
+'Carey, why you sittin' up there?' Then I tell him the whole
+transaction. I say, 'Missus, she whip me 'cause young marse John git
+whip that time and not me.' He make me git down and git up on his horse
+behin' him and ride up to the big house. Old missus, she done went to
+the house and go to bed with her leg, 'cause when she whippin' me she
+stick my head 'tween her knees and when she do that I bit her.
+
+"Old master's house was two-story with galleries. My mother, she work in
+the big house and she have a purty good house to live in. It was a plank
+house, too, but all the other houses was make out of hewed logs. Then my
+father was a carpenter and old master let him have lumber and he make he
+own furniture out of dressed lumber and make a box to put clothes in. We
+never did have more'n two changes of clothes.
+
+"My father used to make them old Carey plows and was good at makin' the
+mould board out of hardwood. He make the best Carey plows in that part
+of the country and he make horseshoes and nails and everything out of
+iron. And he used to make spinning wheels and parts of looms. He was a
+very valuable man and he make wheels and the hub and put the spokes in.
+
+"Old master had a big farm and he raised cotton and corn and 'taters and
+peanuts and sorghum cane and some ribbon cane. The bigges' crops was
+cotton and corn.
+
+"My father told us when freedom come. He'd been a free man, 'cause he
+was bodyguard to the old, old master and when he died he give my father
+he freedom. That was over in Richmond, Virginia. But young master steal
+him into slavery again. So he was glad when freedom come and he was free
+again. Old master made arrangement for us to stay with him till after
+the harvest and then we go to the old Rawls house what 'long to Mr. Chiv
+Rawls. He and my father and mother run the place and it was a big farm.
+
+"I git marry when I was 'bout 22 years old and that's her right there
+now. We's been married more'n 60 years and she was 17 years old then.
+She was raised in Grant's colony and her father was a blacksmith.
+
+"We had it all 'ranged and we stop the preacher one Sunday mornin' when
+he was on the way to preachin' and he come there to her pa's house and
+marry us. We's had 11 children and all has deceased but three.
+
+"I was educated since freedom, 'cause they wasn't no schools in slavery
+days, but after I was freed I went to public schools. Most my learnin' I
+got from a German man what was principal of a college and he teach me
+the biggest part of my education.
+
+"When I was 14 a desperado killed my father and then I had my mother and
+her eight children to take care of. I worked two months and went to
+school one month and that way I made money to take care of 'em.
+
+
+
+
+420215
+
+
+[Illustration: Campbell Davis]
+
+
+     CAMPBELL DAVIS, 85, was born in Harrison Co., Texas, a slave of
+     Henry Hood. He remained on the Hood place about three years after
+     he was freed, then farmed in Louisiana. In 1873 he married and
+     moved back to Harrison Co., where he farmed until old age forced
+     him to stop. He now lives with his nephew, Billie Jenkins, near
+     Karnack. Campbell receives a $12.00 per month old age pension.
+
+
+"I's big 'nough in slavery time to hear dem tell de darkies to get up
+and go in the mornin', and to hear the whistlin' of dem whips and
+howlin' of de dogs. I's birthed up in the northeast part of this county
+right on the line of Louisiana and Texas, and 'longed to old man Henry
+Hood. My mammy and daddy was Campbell and Judy Davis and dey both come
+from Alabama, and was brung here by de traders and sold to Massa Hood.
+They was nine of us chillen, name Ellis and Hildaman and Henderson and
+Henrietta and Georgia and Harriet and Patsy.
+
+"Massa Henry didn't have de fine house but it a big one. Us quarters sot
+off 'cross de field in de edge of a skit of woods. Dey have dirt floors
+and a fireplace and old pole and plank bunks nail to de walls.
+
+"Dey fed us beef and veg'tables--any kind, jus' name it--and 'low us sop
+bread in potlicker till de world look level. Dat good eatin' and all my
+life I ain't have no better.
+
+"Massa didn't 'low no overseer on he place. One my uncles de driver, and
+massa blow de old conk shell long 'fore day, and if de darkies didn't
+git goin' you'd hear dem whips crackin'.
+
+"I seed one my sisters whip 'cause she didn't spin 'nough. Dey pull de
+clothes down to her waist and laid her down on de stomach and lash her
+with de rawhide quirt. I's in de field when dey whips my Uncle Lewis for
+not pickin' 'nough cotton. De driver pull he clothes down and make him
+lay on de groun'. He wasn't tied down, but he say he scart to move.
+
+"De women am off Friday afternoon to wash clothes and all de hands git
+Saturday afternoon and mos' de man go huntin' or fishin'. Sometimes dey
+have parties Saturday night and couples git on de floor and have music
+of de fiddle and banjo. I only 'members one ring play:
+
+"Hop light, li'l lady,
+The cakes all dough,
+Don't mind de weather,
+Jus' so de wind don't blow.
+
+"De bigges' day to blacks and whites was fourth of July. De hands was
+off all day and massa give de big dinner out under de trees. He allus
+barbecue de sheep or beef and have cakes and pies and fancy cookin'.
+He's one de bes' bosses round dat country. He 'lieve in makin' dem work
+and when dey need whippin' he done it, but when it come to feedin' he
+done dat right, too. And on Christmas he give us clothes and shoes and
+nuts and things and 'nother big dinner, and on Christmas night de
+darkies sing songs for de white folks.
+
+"Us git some book larnin' 'mongst ourselves, round de quarters, and have
+our own preacher. Mos' de time us chillen play, makin' frog holes in de
+sand and mud people and things.
+
+"I done hear lots of talk 'bout ghosts and hants and think I seed one
+onct. I's comin' home from de neighbors at night, in de moonlight, and
+'rectly I seed something white by side de road. De closer I gits de
+bigger it gits. I's scart but I walks up to it and it nothin' but de big
+spiderweb on de bush. Den I says to myself, 'Dere ain't nothin' to dis
+ghost business.'
+
+"Massa have one son go to war and he taken a old cullud man with him. I
+seed soldiers on hosses comin' and goin' de big road, and lots of dem
+come to Port Caddo in boats. De pretties' sight I ever seed am a soldier
+band all dress in de uniforms with brass buttons. When de soldiers come
+back from de war dey throwed cannon balls 'long de road and us chillen
+play with dem.
+
+"When de war am over, massa call us all and say we's free, but can stay
+on and work for de victuals and clothes. A bunch leaves and go to de
+Progoe Marshal at Shreveport and ask him what to do. He tell dem to go
+back and wait till dey find work some place. My mammy and me stays at de
+Hood place 'bout three years. When I's twenty-one I marries and come
+back to Harrison County. Mammy and me done farm in Louisiana up to dat.
+My wife and me marries under de big oak tree front of de Leigh Church.
+Us jus' common folks and doesn't have no infair or big to-do when us
+marry.
+
+"I's voted but our people won't pull together. I votes de 'publican
+ticket de long time, but last time I pulls over and votes de Democrat
+ticket. I 'cides I jus' as well go with de braves as stay with de scart.
+
+"If de young gen'ration would study dey could make something out
+deyselves, but dey wont do it. Dey am too wild. Jus' last week, I hears
+de young cullud preacher at Karnack say, 'Brudders and sisters, style
+and brightness am what we needs today.' I looks at him and says to
+myself, 'Thank de Lawd I knows better'n dat.' When I's comin' up it am
+dark, but I knows better things am ahead for us people and us trusts in
+de Lawd and was hones' with our white folks and profits by what dey
+tells us. Dey wasn't no niggers sent to jail when I's comin' up. It dis
+'style and brightness' what gits de young niggers in trouble. Dey got de
+dark way 'head of dem, less dey stops and studies and make somethin' out
+deyselves."
+
+
+
+
+420294
+
+
+     WILLIAM DAVIS was born near Kingston, Tennessee, on the first of
+     April, 1845. His family were the only slaves owned by Jonathan
+     Draper, Baptist minister. In 1869 William joined the army and was
+     stationed at Fort Stockton, Texas. He has lived in Houston since
+     1870. William is active and takes a long, daily walk.
+
+
+"Well, suh, jes' sit down in de chair yonder and I'll tell you what I
+can 'bout times back yonder. Let's see, now. I was born on de first day
+of April in 1845. De reason I knows was 'cause Miss Lizzie, our missy,
+told me so when we was sot free. Mammy done told me I was born den, on
+de Tennessee river, near Kingston. I heared her say de turnpike what run
+past Massa John's house dere goes over de mountain to Bristol, over in
+Virginny. Mammy and pappy and all us chillen 'long to de Drapers, Massa
+Jonathan what us call Massa John, and he wife, Miss Lizzie, and we is de
+only cullud folks what dey owns.
+
+"Massa John am de Baptist preacher, and while I'm sho' glad to see my
+folks sot free, I'll tell de truth and say Massa John and Miss Lizzie
+was mighty good to us. Dey have four chillen; Massa Milton, what am
+oldes' and kill in de first battle; Massa Bob and Massa George and Massa
+Canero. Oh, yes, dey have one gal, Missy Ann.
+
+"Course us didn't have no last names like now. Mammy named Sophie and
+pappy named Billy. Sometimes de owners give de slaves last names
+'cordin' to what dey do, like pappy was meat cook and mammy cook pies
+and cakes and bread, so dey might have Cook for de last name.
+
+"We has a bigger family dan Massa John, 'cause dey eight of us chillen.
+I ain't seen none of dem since I lef' Virginny in 1869, but I 'member
+all de names. Dere was Jane and Lucy and Ellen and Bob and Solomon and
+Albert and John, and I'm de younges' de whole lot.
+
+"I heared Miss Lizzie tell some white folks dat my mammy and pappy give
+to her by her pappy in Alabama when she get married. Dat de custom with
+rich folks den, and mammy 'long to de Ames, what was Miss Lizzie's name
+'fore she marry. I heared her say when de stars falls, I think she say
+in 1832, she was 'bout eighteen, and dey think de world am endin'.
+
+"Pappy was a Indian. I knows dat. He came from Congo, over in Africa,
+and I heared him say a big storm druv de ship somewhere on de Ca'lina
+coast. I 'member he mighty 'spectful to Massa and Missy, but he proud,
+too, and walk straighter'n anybody I ever seen. He had scars on de right
+side he head and cheek what he say am tribe marks, but what dey means I
+don't know.
+
+"'Bout de first I 'members real good am where we am in Virginny and
+Massa John runs de Washington College, in Washington County. I 'member
+all de pupils eats at massa's house and dat de first job I ever had.
+'Scuse me for laughin', but I don't reckon I thunk of dat since de Lawd
+know when. Dat my first job. Dey has a string fasten to de wall on one
+side de room, with pea fowl tail feathers strung 'long it, and it runs
+most de length de room, above de dinin' table, and round a pulley-like
+piece in de ceilin' with one end de string hangin' down. When mealtime
+come, I am put where de string hang down and I pulls it easy like, and
+de feathers swishes back and forth sideways, and keeps de flies from
+lightin' while folks am eatin'. 'Ceptin' dat, all I does is play round
+with Massa George and Missy Ann.
+
+"Dey ain't no whuppin' on our place and on Sunday us all go to church,
+and Massa John do de preachin'. Dey rides in de buggy and us follow in
+de wagon. De white folks sets in front de church and us in back.
+
+"I can't tell you how long us stay at de college, 'zactly, but us moves
+to Warm Springs to take de baths and drink de water, in Scott County.
+Dat two, three years befo' de war, and Massa John run de hotel and
+preach on Sunday. I think dere am three springs, one sulphur water and
+one lime water and one a warm spring. I does a little bit of everything
+round de hotel, helps folks off de stage when it druv up, wait on table
+and sich. When I hears de horn blow--you know, de stage driver blow it
+when dey top de hill 'bout two miles 'way, to let you know dey comin'--I
+sho' hustle round and git ready to meet it, 'cause most times folks what
+I totes de grips for gives me something. Dat de first money I ever seed.
+Some de folks gives me de picayune--dat what us call a nickel, now, and
+some gives me two shillin's, what same as two-bits now. A penny was big
+den, jes' like a two-bit piece, now.
+
+"But when war begin 'tween de Yankees and de South, it sho' change
+everything up, 'cause folks quit comin' to de Springs and de soldiers
+takes over de place. Massa Milton go to jine de South Army and gits
+kill. Morgan and he men make de Springs headquarters most de war, till
+de Yankees come marchin' through toward de last part. I know pappy say
+dem Yankees gwine win, 'cause dey allus marchin' to de South, but none
+de South soldiers marches to de North. He didn't say dat to de white
+folks, but he sho' say it to us. When de Yankees come marchin' through,
+de Morgan soldiers jes' hide out till dey gone. Dey never done no
+fightin' round Warm Springs. Lots of times dey goes way for couple weeks
+and den comes back and rests awhile.
+
+"Den one mornin'--I 'members it jes' like it yestiddy, it de fourth of
+July in 1865--Miss Lizzie say to me, 'Willie, I wants you to git you
+papa and de rest de family and have dem come to de porch right away.' I
+scurries round quick like and tells dem and she comes out of de house
+and says, 'Now, de Yankees done sot you free and you can do what you
+wants, but you gwineter see more carpet baggers and liars dan you ever
+has seed, and you'll be worse off den you ever has been, if you has
+anythin' to do with dem. Den she opens de book and tells us all when us
+born and how old us am, so us have some record 'bout ourselves. She
+tells me I'm jes' nineteen and one fourth years old when I'm sot free.
+
+"She tell pappy Massa John want to see him in de house and when he comes
+out he tells us Massa John done told him to take a couple wagons and de
+family and go to de farm 'bout ten miles 'way on Possum Creek and work
+it and stay long as he wants. Massa has us load up one wagon with
+'visions. Pappy made de first crop with jes' hoes, 'cause us didn't have
+no hosses or mules to plow with. Us raise jes' corn and some wheat, but
+dey am fruit trees, peaches and apples and pears and cherries. Massa
+John pay pappy $120 de year, 'sides us 'visions, and us stays dere till
+pappy dies in 1868.
+
+"Den I heared 'bout de railroad what dey buildin' at Knoxville and I
+leaves de folks and gits me de job totin' water. Dey asks my name and I
+says William Davis, 'cause I knows Mr. Jefferson Davis am President of
+de South durin' de war, and I figgers it a good name. In 1869 I goes to
+Nashville and 'lists in de army. I'm in de 24th Infantry, Company G, and
+us sent to Fort Stockton to guard de line of Texas, but all us do am
+build 'dobe houses. Col. Wade was de commander de fort and Cap'n
+Johnson was captain of G. Co. Out dere I votes for de first time, for
+Gen. Grant, when Greeley and him run for president. But I gits sick at
+de Fort and am muster out in 1870 and comes to Houston.
+
+"I gits me de deckhand job on de Dinah, de steamboat what haul freight
+and passengers 'tween Galveston and Houston. Den I works on de Lizzie,
+what am a bigger boat. Course, Houston jes' a little bit of place to
+what it am now--dey wasn't no git buildin's like dey is now, and mud, I
+tell you de streets was jes' like de swamp when it rain.
+
+"Long 'bout 1875 I gits marry to Mary Jones, but she died in 1883 and I
+gits marry 'gain in 1885 to Arabelle Wilson and has four girls and one
+boy from her. She died 'bout ten years back. Course, us cullud folks
+marry jes' like white folks do now, but I seen cullud folks marry 'fore
+de war and massa marry dem dis way: dey goes in de parlor and each carry
+de broom. Dey lays de brooms on de floor and de woman put her broom
+front de man and he put he broom front de woman. Dey face one 'nother
+and step 'cross de brooms at de same time to each other and takes hold
+of hands and dat marry dem. Dat's de way dey done, sho', 'cause I seed
+my own sister marry dat way.
+
+"I has wished lots of times to go back and see my folks, but I never has
+been back and never seed dem since I left, and I guess dey am all gone
+'long 'fore now. I has jobbed at first one thing and 'nother and like
+pappy tells me, I has trials and tribulations and I has good chillen
+what ain't never got in no trouble and what all helps take care dere old
+pappy so I guess I ain't got no complainin' 'bout things.
+
+"I dreams sometimes 'bout de peach trees and de pear trees and de cherry
+trees and I'd give lots to see de mountains 'gain, 'cause when de frost
+come, 'bout now, de leaves on de trees put on pretty colors and de
+persimmons and nuts is ready for pickin' and a little later on us kill
+de hawgs and put by de meat for de winter.
+
+"De Lawd forgive me for dis foolishness, 'cause I got a good home, and
+has all I need, but I gits to thinkin' 'bout Virginny sometimes and my
+folks what I ain't seed since I left, and it sho' make me want to see it
+once more 'fore I die.
+
+
+
+
+420281
+
+
+     ELI DAVISON was born in Dunbar, West Virginia, a slave of Will
+     Davison. Eli has a bill of sale that states he was born in 1844.
+     His master moved to Texas in 1858, and settled in Madison County.
+     Eli lives in Madisonville, with one of his sons.
+
+
+"My first Old Marse was Will Davison. My father's name was Everett Lee
+and mama was Susan, and he come to see her twict a month, 'cause he was
+owned by 'nother master.
+
+"Marse Davison had a good home in West Virginia, where I's born, in
+Dunbar, but most of it 'longed to he wife and she was the boss of him.
+He had a great many slaves, and one mornin' he got up and 'vided all he
+had and told his wife she could have half the slaves. Then we loaded two
+wagons and he turned to his oldest son and the next son and said, 'You's
+gwine with me. Crawl on.' Then he said to he wife, 'Elsie, you can have
+everything here, but I'm takin' Eli and Alex and these here two
+chillen.' The other two gals and two boys he left, and pulled out for
+Texas. It taken us mos' two years to git here, and Marse Will never sot
+eyes on the rest of his family no more, long as he lived.
+
+"Marse never married any more. He'd say, 'They ain't 'nother woman under
+the sun I'd let wear my name.' He never said his wife's name no more,
+but was allus talkin' of them chillun he done left behind.
+
+"We gits here and starts to build a one room log house for Marse Will
+and his two boys. My quarters was one them covered wagons, till he
+trades me off. He cried like a baby, but he said, 'I hate to do this,
+but its the only way I'll have anything to leave for my two boys.' Looks
+like everything done go 'gainst him when he come to Texas, and he took
+sick and died. The boys put him away nice and loaded up and went back
+to Virginia, but the home was nailed up and farm lying out, and it took
+them mos' a year to find they folks. The mother and one gal was dead, so
+they come back and lived and died here in Texas.
+
+"Marse Will was one more good man back in Virginia. He never got mad or
+whipped a slave. He allus had plenty to eat, with 1,200 acres, but after
+we come here all we had to eat was what we kilt in the woods and
+cornbread. He planted seven acres in corn, but all he did was hunt deer
+and squirrels. They was never a nigger what tried to run off in Texas,
+'cause this was a good country, plenty to eat by huntin' and not so cold
+like in Virginia.
+
+"After I was traded off, my new master wasn't so good to me. He thunk
+all the time the South would win that war and he treated us mean. His
+name was Thomas Greer. He kept tellin' us a black nigger never would be
+free. When it come, he said to us, 'Well, you black ----, you are just
+as free as I am.' He turnt us loose with nothin' to eat and mos' no
+clothes. He said if he got up nex' mornin' and found a nigger on his
+place, he'd horsewhip him.
+
+"I don't know what I'd done, but one my old Marse Will's chillun done
+settle close by and they let me work for them, and built me a log house
+and I farmed on halves. They stood good for all the groceries I buyed
+that year. It took all I made that year to pay my debts and that's the
+way its been ever since.
+
+"I married Sarah Keys. We had a home weddin' and 'greed to live together
+as man and wife. I jus' goes by her home one day and captures her like.
+I puts her on my saddle behind me and tells her she's my wife then.
+That's all they was to my weddin'. We had six chillun and they's all
+farmin' round here. Sarah, she dies seventeen years ago and I jus' lives
+round with my chillen, 'cause I's too old to do any work.
+
+"All I ever done was to farm. That's all this here nigger knew what to
+do. O, I's seed the time when I never had nothin' to eat and my big
+bunch of chillun cryin' for bread. I could go to the woods then, but you
+can't git wild game no more. In them days it was five or ten mile to
+your nearest neighbor, but now they's so close you can stand in your
+yard and talk to them.
+
+"I never done no votin', 'cause them Klu Kluxers was allus at the votin'
+places for a long time after the niggers was freed. The niggers has got
+on since them old days. They has gone from nothin' to a fair educated
+folks. We has been kind of slow, 'cause we was turnt loose without
+nothin', and couldn't read and write.
+
+"I's worked for fifteen and thirty cents a day, but Lawd, blessed to our
+president, we gits a li'l pension now and that's kep' me from plumb
+starvin' to death. Times is hard and folks had to do away with
+everything when they had that Hoover for president, but they will be
+straightened out by and by if they'll listen to the president now.
+'Course, some wants to kill him, 'cause he helps the poor, but it do
+look like we ought to have a li'l bread and salt bacon without upsettin'
+'em, when they has so much.
+
+
+
+
+420162
+
+
+     ELIGE DAVISON was born in Richmond, Virginia, a slave of George
+     Davison. Elige worked in the field for some time before he was
+     freed, but does not know his age. He lives with one of his
+     grandsons, in Madisonville, Texas.
+
+
+"My birth was in Richmond. That's over in old Virginny, and George
+Davison owned me and my pappy and mammy. I 'member one sister, named
+Felina Tucker.
+
+"Massa and Missus were very good white folks and was good to the black
+folks. They had a great big rock house with pretty trees all round it,
+but the plantation was small, not more'n a hunerd acres. Massa growed
+tobaccy on 'bout 30 of them acres, and he had a big bunch of hawgs. He
+waked us up 'bout four in the mornin' to milk the cows and feed them
+hawgs.
+
+"Our quarters was good, builded out of pine logs with a bed in one
+corner, no floors and windows. Us wore old loyal clothes and our shirt,
+it open all down the front. In winter massa gave us woolen clothes to
+wear. Us didn't know what shoes was, though.
+
+"Massa, he look after us slaves when us sick, 'cause us worth too much
+money to let die jus' like you do a mule. He git doctor or nigger mammy.
+She make tea out of weeds, better'n quinine. She put string round our
+neck for chills and fever, with camphor on it. That sho' keep off
+diseases.
+
+"Us work all day till jus' 'fore dark. Sometimes us got whippin's. We
+didn't mind so much. Boss, you know how stubborn a mule am, he have to
+be whipped. That the way slaves is.
+
+"When you gather a bunch of cattle to sell they calves, how the calves
+and cows will bawl, that the way the slaves was then. They didn't know
+nothin' 'bout they kinfolks. Mos' chillen didn't know who they pappy was
+and some they mammy 'cause they taken 'way from the mammy when she wean
+them, and sell or trade the chillen to someone else, so they wouldn't
+git 'tached to they mammy or pappy.
+
+"Massa larn us to read and us read the Bible. He larn us to write, too.
+They a big church on he plantation and us go to church and larn to tell
+the truth.
+
+"I seed some few run away to the north and massa sometime cotch 'em and
+put 'em in jail. Us couldn't go to nowhere without a pass. The
+patterrollers would git us and they do plenty for nigger slave. I's went
+to my quarters and be so tired I jus' fall in the door, on the ground,
+and a patterroller come by and hit me several licks with a
+cat-o-nine-tails, to see if I's tired 'nough to not run 'way. Sometimes
+them patterrollers hit us jus' to hear us holler.
+
+"When a slave die, he jus' 'nother dead nigger. Massa, he builded a
+wooden box and put the nigger in and carry him to the hole in the
+ground. Us march round the grave three times and that all.
+
+"I been marry once 'fore freedom, with home weddin'. Massa, he bring
+some more women to see me. He wouldn't let me have jus' one woman. I
+have 'bout fifteen and I don't know how many chillen. Some over a
+hunerd, I's sho'.
+
+"I 'member plenty 'bout the war, 'cause the Yankees they march on to
+Richmond. They kill everything what in the way. I heared them big guns
+and I's scart. Everybody scart. I didn't see no fightin', 'cause I gits
+out the way and keeps out till it all over.
+
+But when they marches right on the town I's tendin' hosses for massa. He
+have two hosses kilt right under him. Then the Yankees, they capture
+that town. Massa, he send me to git the buggy and hoss and carry missus
+to the mountain, but them Yankees they capture me and say they gwine
+hang that nigger. But, glory be, massa he saves me 'fore they hangs me.
+He send he wife and my wife to 'nother place then, 'cause they burn
+massa's house and tear down all he fences.
+
+"When the war over massa call me and tells me I's free as he was, 'cause
+them Yankees win the war. He give me $5.00 and say he'll give me that
+much a month iffen I stays with him, but I starts to Texas. I heared I
+wouldn't have to work in Texas, 'cause everything growed on trees and
+the Texans wore animal hides for clothes. I didn't git no land or mule
+or cow. They warn't no plantations divided what I knowed 'bout. Mos'
+niggers jus' got turn loose with a cuss, and not 'nough clothes to cover
+they bodies.
+
+"It 'bout a year 'fore I gits to Texas. I walks nearly all the way.
+Sometimes I git a li'l ride with farmer. Sometimes I work for folks
+'long the way and git fifty cents and start 'gain.
+
+"I got to Texas and try to work for white folks and try to farm. I
+couldn't make anything at any work. I made $5.00 a month for I don't
+know how many year after the war. Iffen the woods wasn't full of wild
+game us niggers all starve to death them days.
+
+"I been marry three time. First wife Eve Shelton. She run off with
+'nother man. Then I marries Fay Elly. Us sep'rate in a year. Then I
+marry Parlee Breyle. No, I done forgot. 'Fore that I marries Sue
+Wilford, and us have seven gals and six boys. They all in New York but
+one. He stays here. Then I marries Parlee and us have two gals. Parlee
+die three year ago.
+
+"The gov'ment give me a pension and I gits li'l odd jobs round, to get
+by. But times been hard and I ain't had much to eat the las' few years.
+Not near so good as what old massa done give me. But I gits by somehow.
+
+"I done the bes' I could, 'sidering I's turned out with nothin' when I's
+growed and didn't know much, neither. The young folks, they knows more,
+'cause they got the chance for schoolin'.
+
+
+
+
+420278
+
+
+     JOHN DAY, 81, was born near Dayton, Tennessee, a slave of Major
+     John Day. John lives in McLennan Co., Texas.
+
+
+"I was born near three mile from Dayton. That's over in Tennessee, and
+it was the sixteenth of February, in 1856. Master's name was Major John
+Day and my father's name was Alfred Day, and he was a first-class
+blacksmith. Blacksmithin' was a real trade them days, and my father made
+axes and hoes and plow shares and knives and even Jew's harps.
+
+"Master was good to my father and when he done done de day's work he
+could work and keep the money he made. He'd work till midnight,
+sometimes, and at de end that war he had fifteen hundred dollars in
+Confederate money. I never seen such a worker.
+
+"Master John thunk lots of father but he took de notion to sell him one
+time, 'cause why, he could git a lot of money for him. He sold him, but
+my mama and even Old Missy, cried and took on so dat Master John went
+after de men what bought him, to git him back. Dey already done crossed
+de river, but master calls and dey brung my father back and he give dem
+de money back. Dat de only time master sold one of us.
+
+"He was a preacher and good to us, never beat none of us. He didn't have
+no overseer, but saw to all de work heself. He had twenty-five slaves
+and raised wheat and corn and oats and vegetables and fruit. He had four
+hundred acres and a house with twelve rooms.
+
+"A man what owned a farm jinin' ourn, de houses half a mile apart. He
+had two slaves, Taylor and Jennie, and he whip dem every day, even if
+dey hadn't done nothin'. He allus beatin' on dem, seemed like. One awful
+cold day in February, Taylor done go to Denton for somethin', and when
+he come back his master starts beatin' on him, and cursed him somethin'
+awful. He kep' it up till my mama, her name was Mariah, gits a butcher
+knife and runs out dere and say, 'Iffen you hits him 'nother lick, I'll
+use this on you.' Old Missy was watchin' and backed her up. So he quit
+beatin' on Taylor dat time. But one day dat white man's own son say to
+him, 'Iffen you don't quit beatin' on dem niggers, I'll knock you in de
+head.' Den he quit.
+
+"Master was in de Confederate army. He gits to be a major and after he
+done come out dat war he sho' hated anythin' what was blue color. I got
+hold a old Yankee cap and coat and is wearin' dem and master yanks dem
+off and burns dem.
+
+"We heared dem guns in de Lookout Mountain battle. Dey sounded like
+thunder, rumblin' low. One day de Feds done take Dayton and de soldiers
+goes by our place to drive dem Feds out. Dere a valley 'bout two miles
+wide 'twixt our place and Dayton and we could see de Confederate
+soldiers till dey go up de hill on de other side. Long in evenin' de
+Confederates come back through dat valley and they was travelin' with
+dem Yankees right after dem. Dey come by our house and we was gittin'
+out de way, all right. Old Missy took all us chillen, black and white,
+and puts us under half a big hogshead, down in de stormhouse.
+
+"De Yankees got to de place and 'gin ransack it. Old Missy done lock dat
+stormhouse door and sot down on it and she wouldn't git up when dey done
+tell her to. So dey takes her by de arms and lifts her off it. Dey
+didn't hurt her any. Den dey brekks de lock and comes down in dere. I
+didn't see whay dey hadn't found us kids, 'cause my heart beatin' like
+de hammer. Dey turned dat hogshead over and all us kids skinned out dere
+like de Devil after us. One de Yanks hollers, 'Look what we done hatch
+out!'
+
+"I tore out past de barn, thinkin' I'd go to mama, in de field, but it
+look like all de Yanks in de world jumpin' dere hosses over dat fence,
+so I whirls round and run in dat barn and dives in a stack of hay and
+buries myself so deep de folks like to never found me. Dey hunted all
+over de place befo' dey done found me. Us kids scart 'cause we done see
+dem Yanks' bayonets and thunk dey was dere horns.
+
+"Dem Yanks done take all de flour and meal and wheat and corn and smoked
+meat. After dat master fixes up a place in de ceilin' to store stuff,
+and a trap door so when it closed you couldn't tell its dere.
+
+"I lives in and round de old place till 1910, den comes to Texas. I jist
+works round and farms and gits by, but I ain't never done nothin' worth
+tellin'.
+
+
+
+
+420257
+
+
+[Illustration: Nelsen Denson]
+
+
+     NELSEN DENSON, 90, was born near Hambirg, Arkansas, a slave of Jim
+     Nelson, who sold Nelsen and his family to Felix Grundy. Nelsen's
+     memory is poor, but he managed to recall a few incidents. He now
+     lives in Waco, Texas.
+
+
+"I'll be ninety years old this December, (1937). I was born in Arkansas,
+up in Ashley County, and it was the twenty-second day of December in
+1847. My mammy was from Virginny and pappy was from old Kentucky, and I
+was one of they eight chillen. Our owner, Marse Jim Densen, brung us to
+Texas and settled near Marlin, but got in debt and sold as all to Marse
+Felix Grundy, and he kep' us till freedom, and most of us worked for him
+after that.
+
+"Marse Jim Densen had a easy livin' in Arkansas, but folks everywhere
+was comin' to Texas and he 'cides to throw in his fortunes. It wasn't so
+long after that war with Mexico and folks come in a crowd to 'tect
+theyselves 'gainst Indians and wild animals. The wolves was the worst to
+smell cookin' and sneak into camp, but Indians come up and makes the
+peace sign and has a pow wow with the white folks. Marse git beads or
+cloth and trade for leather breeches and things.
+
+"I want to tell how we crosses the Red River on de Red River Raft. Back
+in them days the Red River was near closed up by dis timber raft and de
+big boats couldn't git up de river at all. We gits a li'l boat, and a
+Caddo Indian to guide us. Dis Red River raft dey say was centuries old.
+De driftwood floatin' down de river stops in de still waters and makes a
+bunch of trees and de dirt 'cumulates, and broomstraws and willows and
+brush grows out dis rich dirt what cover de driftwood. Dis raft growed
+'bout a mile a year and de oldes' timber rots and breaks away, but dis
+not fast 'nough to keep de river clear. We found bee trees on de raft
+and had honey.
+
+"It was long time after us come to Texas when de gov'ment opens up de
+channel. Dat am in 1873. 'Fore dat, a survey done been made and dey
+found de raft am a hundred and twenty-eight miles long. When we was on
+dat raft it am like a big swamp, with trees and thick brush and de
+driftwood and logs all wedge up tight 'tween everything.
+
+"'Fore Texas secedes, Marse Jensen done sell us all to Marse Felix
+Grundy, and he goes to war in General Hardeman's Brigade and is with him
+for bodyguard. When de battle of Mansfield come I'm sixteen years old.
+We was camped on the Sabine River, on the Texas side, and the Yanks on
+the other side a li'l ways. I 'member the night 'fore the battle, how
+the campfires looked, and a quiet night and the whippoorwills callin' in
+the weeds. We was 'spectin' a 'tack and sings to keep cheerful. The
+Yanks sings the 'Battle Cry of Freedom' when they charges us. They come
+on and on and, Lawd, how they fit! I stays clost to Marse Grundy and the
+rebels wins and takes 'bout a thousand Yanks.
+
+"Most the slaves was happy, the ones I knowed. They figgers the white
+men fightin' for some principal, but lots of them didn't care nothin'
+'bout bein' free. I s'pose some was with bad white folks, but not round
+us. We had more to eat and now I'm so old I wouldn't feel bad if I had
+old marse to look after me 'gain.
+
+
+
+
+420131
+
+
+     VICTOR DUHON was born 97 years ago in Lafayette Parish, La., a
+     slave of the Duhon family. His blue eyes and almost white skin are
+     evidence of the white strain in his blood. Even after many years of
+     association with English speaking persons, he speaks a French
+     patois, and his story was interpreted by a Beaumont French teacher.
+
+
+"My papa was Lucien Duhon and my mama Euripe Dupuis. I was born over in
+Louisiana in Lafayette Parish, between Broussard and Warville. I'm 97
+years old now.
+
+"I didn't have brothers or sisters, except half ones. It is like this,
+my mama was a house servant in the Duhon family. She was the
+hairdresser. One day she barbered master's son, who was Lucien. He says
+that he'll shave her head if she won't do what he likes. After that she
+his woman till he marries a white lady.
+
+"My grandmama was stolen from Africa and she lived to be 125 years old.
+She died last year in April. I think I'll live long as she did. There
+were fifteen slaves on the land what Duhon's had but I never ran around
+with them. I had room at the back of the big house. You know, Madame
+Duhon was my grandmama. She was good to me. The only thing I did was
+look to my master's horse and be coachman for Madame. Master had four
+sons. They were Ragant and Jaques and Lucien and Desire. Desire was shot
+at the dance.
+
+"Master had about 100 acres in cotton and the corn. He had a slave for
+to hunt all the time. He didn't do other things. The partridge and the
+rice birds he killed were cooked for the white folks. The owls and the
+rabbits and the coons and the possums were cooked for us. They had a big
+room for us to eat in. Where they cook they had a long oven with a piece
+down the middle. They cooked the white folks things on one side. They
+cooked their own things on the other. They had each ones pots and
+skillets.
+
+"I didn't play much with the black children. My time went waiting on my
+white folks.
+
+"Sometimes the priest came to say Mass. The slaves went to Mass. The
+priest married and baptized the slaves. They gave a feast of baptizing.
+We all had real beef meat that day.
+
+"When my mama had 22 years she married a Polite Landry slave. Then she
+went to the Landry plantation. There was often marrying between the two
+plantations. When they married the wife went to her man's plantation.
+That made no difference. It wouldn't be long before a girl from the
+other place marry into the man's plantation. That kept things in
+balance.
+
+"My mama married Fairjuste Williams. They had two sons and a daughter. I
+didn't know them so much. They were half brothers and sister.
+
+"I had 22 years when war came. You know what war I mean. The war when
+the slaves were set free. I wasn't bothered about freedom. Didn't leave
+master till he died. Then I went to work for Mr. Polite Landry.
+
+"I was always in good hands. Some slaves ware treated bad. Mr. Natale
+Vallean beat up a slave for stealing. He beat him so hard he lay in
+front of the gate a whole day and the night.
+
+"I worked on farms all my life. Then I came to Beaumont. About 23 years
+ago, it was. I worked at anything. Now I'm too old. I live with my
+daughter.
+
+
+
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+|                                                              |
+| Transcriber's Corrections:                                   |
+|                                                              |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 3: Then (and weepin' when they sot us free. Lots of     |
+| them didn't want to be free, 'cause they knowed nothin' and  |
+| had nowhere to go. #Them# what had good massas stayed right  |
+| on.) # Page 14: too (niggers. There am 'bout 30 old and      |
+| young niggers and 'bout 20 piccaninnies too little #to#      |
+| work, and de nuss cares for dem while dey mammies works.)    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 28: way ("I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr.    |
+| Will set us all free. I was 'bout 17 year old then or more.  |
+| I #say# I goin' find my mamma. Mr. Will fixes me up two      |
+| papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some smaller,    |
+| but both)                                                    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 52: Mockbateman ("My pappy was Ike Bateman, 'cause his  |
+| massa's name am #Mock Bateman#, and mammy's name was         |
+| Francis. They come from Tennessee and I had four brothers    |
+| and six sisters. We jes' left de last part)                  |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 67: home-make ("Marster have de plank house and all de  |
+| things in it was #home-made#. De cook was a old cullud woman |
+| and I eat at de kitchen table and)                           |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 85: bit ("Every year they have #big# Christmas dinner   |
+| and ham and turkey and allus feed us good. Us have Christmas |
+| party and sing songs. That)                                  |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 90: LaSan (slave born. My papa was Olivier Blanchard    |
+| and he white man carpenter on old plantation. We belong to   |
+| Clairville #La San# and all live on that place. My papa just |
+| plain carpenter but could draw patterns for)                 |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 114: chilen (School. Dem was good times. De mistus cook |
+| dinner and send it down for de old folks and #chillen# to    |
+| have plenty.)                                                |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 147: bit ("Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't |
+| have no old missus, 'cause he was a bachelor. He had a #big# |
+| plantation. I don't know how big but dey somethin' like      |
+| twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies)             |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 164: nyself ("I seed some bad sight in slavery, but     |
+| ain' never been 'bused #myself#. I seed chillun too lil' to  |
+| walk from dey mammies sol' right off de block)               |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 195: tim (Ross drives de cattle north and I says to     |
+| him, 'I's good hand at de drive. Kin I go with you nex'      |
+| #time# you goes north?' And not long after dat we starts and |
+| we gits to Kansas City. After Marster Ross gets shut of)     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 211: women (I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I |
+| left and raised a family of chillen. I saw Missie Adeline    |
+| and she was a old #woman#. We went out and looked at the     |
+| tombstones and the rock markers in the graveyard on the old  |
+| place, and some of)                                          |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 212: woned ("My master was Dick Townes and my folks     |
+| come with him from Alabama. He #owned# a big plantation      |
+| fifteen miles from Austin and worked lots of slaves. We had  |
+| the best master in the whole county, and everybody called)   |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 214: gen'zen ("Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old  |
+| #gen'man#, with a big bald place on he head, and he am good  |
+| to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old)                     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 226: bit (best men I ever knows in my whole life and    |
+| his wife was jes' like him. Dey had a #big#, four-room log   |
+| house with a big hall down the center up and down. De logs   |
+| was all peeled and de chinkin' a diff'rent color from de     |
+| logs and)                                                    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 228: "e (De war am on, but us don't see none of it. But |
+| 'stead of eatin' cornbread, us eats bread out of kaffir corn |
+| and maize. #"We# raises lots of okra and dey say it gwine be |
+| parch and grind to make coffee for white folks. Dat didn't)  |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 251: conb (I go to milk I puts her in de trough. I      |
+| saved her life lots of times. One time she's on de #cone# of |
+| de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years old. I eases  |
+| up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me.    |
+| 'Nother)                                                     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 258: Day (woman a big, red pocket handkerchief and a    |
+| bottle of liquor. He buyed dat liquor by de barrel and liked |
+| it hisself. #Dat# why he allus had it on de place.)          |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 262: outselves ("We mos'ly lived on corn pone and salt  |
+| bacon de marster give us. We didn't have no gardens          |
+| #ourselves#, 'cause we wouldn't have time to work in dem. We |
+| worked all day in de fields and den was so tired we          |
+| couldn't)                                                    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 263: Weht (usually split from hem to neck and I had to  |
+| wear them till they was strings. #Went# barefoot summer and  |
+| winter till the feets crack open.)                           |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 267: bit ("Dey feeds us well sometimes, if dey warn't   |
+| mad at us. Dey has a big trough jes' like de trough for de   |
+| pigs and dey has a #big# gourd and dey totes de gourd full   |
+| of milk and dey breaks de bread in de milk. Den my mammy)    |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 289: whay (us call Massa John, and he wife, Miss        |
+| Lizzie, and we is de only cullud folks #what# dey owns.)     |
+|                                                              |
+| Page 292: everhas (more carpet baggers and liars dan you     |
+| ever has seed, and you'll be worse off den you #ever has#    |
+| been, if you has anythin' to do with dem. Den she opens de   |
+| book and tells us all when us born and how old us am, so us  |
+| have some record 'bout)                                      |
+|                                                              |
++--------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of
+Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
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