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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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