Chapter VI: Part 6

"I is 87 years old, 'cause I is born on June 17th, in 1850, and that's 'cording to de statement my missy give me. I was born on Massa Jack Homer's plantation, close to Shreveport. Him owned my mammy and my pappy and 'bout 100 other slaves. Him's plantation was a big un. I don't know how many acres him have, but it was miles long. Dere was so many buildings and sheds on dat place it was a small town. De massa's house was a big two-story building and dere was de spinnin' house, de smokehouse, de blacksmith shop and a nursery for de cullud chillens and a lot of sheds and sich. In de nigger quarters dere was 50 one-room cabins and dey was ten in a row and dere was five rows.

"De cabins was built of logs and had dirt floors and a hole whar a window should be and a stone fireplace for de cookin' and de heat. Dere was a cookhouse for de big house and all de cookin' for de white folks was 'tended to by four cooks. We has lots of food, too--cornmeal and vegetables and milk and 'lassas and meat. For mos' de meat dey kotched hawgs in de Miss'sippi River bottoms. Once a week, we have white flour biscuit.

"Some work was hard and some easy, but massa don' 'lieve in overworkin' his slaves. Sat'day afternoon and Sunday, dere was no work. Some whippin' done, but mos' reasonable. If de nigger stubborn, deys whips 'nough for to change his mind. If de nigger runs on, dat calls de good whippin's. If any of de cullud folks has de misery, dey lets him res' in bed and if de misery bad de massa call de doctor.

"I larnt to be coachman and drive for massa's family. But in de year of 1860, Missy Mary gits married to Bill Johnson and at dat weddin' massa Homer gives me and 49 other niggers to her for de weddin' present. Massa Johnson's father gives him 50 niggers too. Dey has a gran' weddin'. I helps take care of de hosses and dey jus' kep' a-comin'. I 'spect dere was more'n 100 peoples dere and dey have lots of music and dancin' and eats and, I 'spects, drinks, 'cause we'uns made peach brandy. You see, de massa had his own still.

"After de weddin' was over, dey gives de couple de infare. Dere's whar dis nigger comes in. I and de other niggers was lined up, all with de clean clothes on and den de massa say, 'For to give my lovin' daughter de start, I gives you dese 50 niggers. Massa Bill's father done de same for his son, and dere we'uns was, 100 niggers with a new massa.

"Dey loads 15 or 20 wagons and starts for Texas. We travels from daylight to dark, with mos' de niggers walkin'. Of course, it was hard, but we enjoys de trip. Dere was one nigger called Monk and him knows a song and larned it to us, like this:

"'Walk, walk, you nigger, walk!
De road am dusty, de road am tough,
Dust in de eye, dust in de tuft;
Dust in de mouth, yous can't talk--
Walk, you niggers, don't you balk.

"'Walk, walk, you nigger walk!
De road am dusty, de road am rough.
Walk 'til we reach dere, walk or bust--
De road am long, we be dere by and by.'

Now, we'uns was a-follerin' behin' de wagons and we'uns sings it to de slow steps of de ox. We'uns don't sing it many times 'til de missy come and sit in de back of de wagon, facin' we'uns and she begin to beat de slow time and sing wid we'uns. Dat please Missy Mary to sing with us and she laugh and laugh.

"After 'bout two weeks we comes to de place near Caldwell, in Texas, and dere was buildin's and land cleared, so we's soon settled. Massa plants mostly cotton and corn and clears more land. I larned to be a coachman, but on dat place I de ox driver or uses de hoe.

"Yous never drive de ox, did yous? De mule ain't stubborn side of de ox, de ox am stubborn and den some more. One time I's haulin' fence rails and de oxen starts to turn gee when I wants dem to go ahead. I calls for haw, but dey pays dis nigger no mind and keeps agwine gee. Den dey starts to run and de overseer hollers and asks me, 'Whar you gwine?' I hollers back, 'I's not gwine, I's bein' took.' Dem oxen takes me to de well for de water, 'cause if dey gits dry and is near water, dey goes in spite of de devil.

"De treatment from new massa am good, 'cause of Missy Mary. She say to Massa Bill, 'if you mus' 'buse de nigger, 'buse yous own.' We has music and parties. We plays de quill, make from willow stick when de sap am up. Yous takes de stick and pounds de bark loose and slips it off, den slit de wood in one end and down one side, puts holes in de bark and put it back on de stick. De quill plays like de flute.

"I never goes out without de pass, so I never has trouble with de patter rollers. Nigger Monk, him have de 'sperience with 'em. Dey kotched him twice and dey sho' makes him hump and holler. After dat he gits pass or stays to home.

"De War make no diff'runce with us, 'cept de soldiers comes and takes de rations. But we'uns never goes hungry, 'cause de massa puts some niggers hustlin' for wil' hawgs. After surrender, missy reads de paper and tells dat we'uns is free, but dat we'uns kin stay 'til we is 'justed to de change.

"De second year after de War, de massa sells de plantation and goes back to Louisiana and den we'uns all lef'. I goes to Laredo for seven year and works on a stock ranch, den I goes to farmin'. I gits married in 1879 to Mary Robinson and we'uns has 14 chilluns. Four of dem lives here.

"I works hard all my life 'til 1935 and den I's too old. My wife and I lives on de pensions we gits.

420234

SCOTT HOOPER, 81, was born a slave of the Rev. Robert Turner, a
Baptist minister who owned seven slave families. They lived on a
small farm near Tenaha, then called Bucksnort, in Shelby County,
Texas. Scott's father was owned by Jack Hooper, a neighboring
farmer. Scott married Steve Hooper when she was thirteen and they
had eight children, whose whereabouts are now unknown to her. She
receives an $8.00 monthly pension.

"Well, I'll do de best I can to tell yous 'bout my life. I used to have de good 'collection, but worryment 'bout ups and downs has 'fected my 'membance. I knows how old I is, 'cause mammy have it in de Bible, and I's born in de year 1856, right in Shelby County, and near by Bucksnort, what am call Tenaha now.

"Massa Turner am de bestest man he could be and taken good care of us, for sho'. He treat us like humans. There am no whuppin's like some other places has. Gosh. What some dem old slaves tell 'bout de whup and de short rations and lots of hard work am awful, so us am lucky.

"Massa don't have de big place, but jus' seven families what was five to ten in de family. My mammy had nine chillen, but my pappy didn't live on us place, but on Jack Hooper's farm, what am four mile off. He comes Wednesday and Saturday night to see us. His massa am good, too, and lets him work a acre of land and all what he raises he can sell. Pappy plants cotton and mostest de time he raises better'n half de bale to he acre. Dat-a-way, he have money and he own pony and saddle, and he brung us chillen candy and toys and coffee and tea for mammy. He done save 'bout $500 when surrender come, but it am all 'Federate money and it ain't worth nothin'. He give it to us chillen to play with.

"Massa Turner am de Baptist preacherman and he have de church at Bucksnort. He run de store, too, and folks laughs 'cause 'sides being a preacherman he sells whiskey in dat store. He makes it medicine for us, with de cherry bark and de rust from iron nails in it. He call it, 'Bitters,' and it a good name. It sho' taste bitter as gall. When us feels de misery it am bitters us gits. Castor oil am candy 'side dem bitters!

"My grandmammy am de cook and all us eats in de shed. It am plenty food and meat and 'lasses and brown sugar and milk and butter, and even some white flour. Course, peas and beans am allus on dat table.

"When surrender come massa calls all us in de yard and makes de talk. He tells us we's free and am awful sorry and show great worryment. He say he hate to part with us and us been good to him, but it am de law. He say us can stay and work de land on shares, but mostest left. Course, mammy go to Massa Hooper's place to pappy and he rents land from Massa Hooper, and us live there seven years and might yet, but dem Klu Klux causes so much troublement. All us niggers 'fraid to sleep in de house and goes to de woods at night. Pappy gits 'fraid something happen to us and come to Fort Worth. Dat in 1872 and he farms over in de bottom.

"I's married to Steve Hooper den, 'cause us marry when I's thirteen years old. He goes in teamin' in Fort Worth and hauls sand and gravel twenty-nine years. He doin' sich when he dies in 1900. Den I does laundry work till I's too old. I tries to buy dis house and does fair till age catches me and now I can't pay for it. All I has is $8.00 de month and I's glad to git dat, but it won't even buy food. On sich 'mount, there am no way to stinch myself and pinch off de payments on de house. Dat am de worryment.

420021

ALICE HOUSTON, pioneer nurse and midwife on whom many San Angeloans
have relied for years, was born October 22, 1859. She was a slave
of Judge Jim Watkins on his small plantation in Hays County, near
San Marcos, Texas and served as house girl to her mistress, Mrs.
Lillie Watkins for many years after the Civil War. At Mrs. Watkins'
death she came with her husband, Jim Houston, to San Angelo, Texas
where she has continued her services as nurse to white families to
the present time.

Alice relates her slave day experiences as follows:

"I was jes' a little chile when dat Civil War broke out and I's had de bes' white folks in de world. My ole mistress she train me for her house girl and nurse maid. Dat's whar I's gits so many good ideas fer nursin'.

"My mother's name was Mariah Watkins an' my father was named Henry Watkins. He would go out in de woods on Sat'day nights and ketch 'possums and bring dem home and bake 'em wid taters. Dat was de best eatin' we had. Course we had good food all de time but we jes' like dat 'possum best.

"My marster, he only have four families and he had a big garden fer all of us. We had our huts at de back of de farm. Dey was made out of logs and de cracks daubbed up wid mud. Dey was clean and comfortable though, and we had good beds.

"When we was jes' little kids ole marster he ketch us a stealin' watermelons and he say, 'Git! Git! Git! And when we runs and stoops over to crawl through de crack of de fence he sho' give us a big spank. Den we runs off cryin' and lookin' back like.

"Ole marster, he had lots of hogs and cows and chickens and I can jes' taste dat clabber milk now. Ole miss, she have a big dishpan full of clabber and she tells de girl to set dat down out in de yard and she say, 'Give all dem chillun a spoon now and let dem eat dat.' When we all git 'round dat pan we sho' would lick dat clabber up.

"We had straight slips made out of white lowell what was wove on dat ole spinnin' wheel. Den dey make jeans for de men's breeches and dye it wid copperas and some of de cloth dey dye wid sumac berries and hit was sho' purty too.

"Ole miss, she make soda out of a certain kind of weed and dey makes coffee out of dried sweet taters.

"My marster he didn' have no over-seer. He say his slaves had to be treated right. He never 'lowed none of his slaves to be sold 'way from their folks. I's nev'r, nev'r seen any slaves in chains but I's hear talk of dem chains.

"My white folks, dey tries to teach us to read and spell and write some and after ole marster move into town he lets us go to a real school. That's how come I can read so many docto' books you see.

"We goes to church wid our white folks at dem camp meetin's and oh Lawdy! Yes, mam, we all sho' did shout. Sometimes we jined de church too.

"We washed our clothes on Sat'day and danced dat night.

"On Christmas and New Year we would have all de good things old marster and ole missus had and when any of de white folks marry or die dey sho' carry on big. Weddin's and funerals, dem was de biggest times.

"When we gits sick, ole marster he have de docto' right now. He sho' was good 'bout dat. Ole miss she make us wear a piece of lead 'round our necks fer de malaria and to keeps our nose from bleedin' and all of us wore some asafoetida 'round our necks to keep off contagion.

"When de war close ole marster calls up all de slaves and he say, 'You's all free people now, jes' same as I is, and you can go or stay,' and we all wants to stay 'cause wasn't nothin' we knowed how to do only what ole marster tells us. He say he let us work de land and give us half of what we make, and we all stayed on several years until he died. We stayed with Miss Watkins, and here I is an ole nigga, still adoin' good in dis world, a-tellin' de white folks how to take care of de chilluns."

420271

JOSEPHINE HOWARD was born in slavery on the Walton plantation near
Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She does not know her age, but when Mr. Walton
moved to Texas, before the Civil War, she was old enough to work in
the fields. Josephine is blind and very feeble. She lives with a
daughter at 1520 Arthur St., Houston, Texas.

"Lawd have mercy, I been here a thousand year, seems like. 'Course I ain't been here so long, but it seems like it when I gits to thinkin' back. It was long time since I was born, long 'fore de war. Mammy's name was Leonora and she was cook for Marse Tim Walton what had de plantation at Tuscaloosa. Dat am in Alabamy. Papa's name was Joe Tatum and he lived on de place 'jinin' ourn. Course, papa and mamy wasn't married like folks now, 'cause dem times de white folks jes' put slave men and women together like hosses or cattle.

"Dey allus done tell us it am wrong to lie and steal, but why did de white folks steal my mammy and her mammy? Dey lives clost to some water, somewheres over in Africy, and de man come in a little boat to de sho' and tell dem he got presents on de big boat. Most de men am out huntin' and my mammy and her mammy gits took out to dat big boat and dey locks dem in a black hole what mammy say so black you can't see nothin'. Dat de sinfulles' stealin' dey is.

"De captain keep dem locked in dat black hole till dat boat gits to Mobile and dey is put on de block and sold. Mammy is 'bout twelve year old and dey am sold to Marse Tim, but grandma dies in a month and dey puts her in de slave graveyard.

"Mammy am nuss gal till she git older and den cook, and den old Marse Tim puts her and papa together and she has eight chillen. I reckon Marse Tim warn't no wor'ser dan other white folks. De nigger driver sho' whip us, with de reason and without de reason. You never knowed. If dey done took de notion dey jes' lays it on you and you can't do nothin'.

"One mornin' we is all herded up and mammy am cryin' and say dey gwine to Texas, but can't take papa. He don't 'long to dem. Dat de lastes' time we ever seed papa. Us and de women am put in wagons but de men slaves am chained together and has to walk.

"Marse Tim done git a big farm up by Marshall but only live a year dere and his boys run de place. Dey jes' like dey papa, work us and work us. Lawd have mercy, I hear dat call in de mornin' like it jes' jesterday, 'All right, everybody out, and you better git out iffen you don't want to feel dat bullwhip 'cross you back.'

"My gal I lives with don't like me to talk 'bout dem times. She say it ain't no more and it ain't good to think 'bout it. But when you has live in slave times you ain't gwine forgit dem, no, suh! I's old and blind and no 'count, but I's alive, but in slave times I'd be dead long time ago, 'cause white folks didn't have no use for old niggers and git shet of dem one way or t'other.

"It ain't till de sojers comes we is free. Dey wants us to git in de pickin', so my folks and some more stays. Dey didn't know no place to go to. Mammy done took sick and die and I hires out to cook for Missy Howard, and marries her coachman, what am Woodson Howard. We farms and comes to Houston nigh sixty year ago. Dey has mule cars den. Woodson gits a job drayin' and 'fore he dies we raises three boys and seven gals, but all 'cept two gals am dead now. Dey takes care of me, and dat all I know 'bout myself.

420275

LIZZIE HUGHES, blind Negress of Harrison County, Texas, was born on
Christmas Day, 1848, a slave of Dr. Newton Fall, near Nacogdoches.
Lizzie married when she was eighteen and has lived near Marshall
since that time. She is cared for by a married daughter, who lives
on Lizzie's farm.

"My name am Lizzie Fall Hughes. I was borned on Christmas at Chireno, 'tween old Nacogdoches town and San Augustine. Dat eighty-nine year ago in slavery time. My young master give me my age on a piece of paper when I married but the rats cut it up.

"I 'longed to Dr. Fall and old Miss Nancy, his wife. They come from Georgia. Papa was named Ed Wilson Fall and mammy was June. Dr. Newton Fall had a big place at Chireno and a hundred slaves. They lived in li'l houses round the edge of the field. We had everything we needed. Dr. Newton run a store and was a big printer. He had a printin' house at Chireno and 'nother in California.

"The land was red and they worked them big Missouri mules and sho' raised somethin'. Master had fifty head of cows, too, and they was plenty wild game. When master was gone he had a overseer, but tell him not to whip. He didn't 'lieve in rushin' his niggers. All the white folks at Chireno was good to they niggers. On Saturday night master give all the men a jug of syrup and a sack of flour and a ham or middlin' and the smokehouse was allus full of beef and pork. We had a good time on that place and the niggers was happy. I 'member the men go out in the mornin', singin':

"'I went to the barn with a shinin', bright moon,
I went to the wood a-huntin' a coon.
The coon spied me from a sugar maple tree,
Down went my gun and up the tree went me.
Nigger and coon come tumblin' down,
Give the hide to master to take off to town,
That coon was full of good old fat,
And master brung me a new beaver hat.'

"Part of 'nother song go like this:

"'Master say, you breath smell of brandy,
Nigger say, no, I's lick 'lasses candy.'

"When old master come to the lot and hear the men singin' like that, he say, 'Them boys is lively this mornin', I's gwine git a big day's plowin' done. They did, too, 'cause them big Missouri mules sho' tore up that red land. Sometime they sing:

"'This ain't Christmas mornin', just a long summer day,
Hurry up, yellow boy and don't run 'way,
Grass in the cotton and weeds in the corn,
Get in the field, 'cause it soon be morn.'

"At night when the hands come in they didn't do nothin' but eat and cut up round the quarters. They'd have a big ball in a big barn there on the place and sixty and seventy on the floor at once, singin':

"'Juba this and Juba that,
Juba killed a yaller cat.
Juba this and Juba that,
Hold you partner where you at.'

"The whites preached to the niggers and the niggers preached to theyselves. Gen'man sho' could preach good them times; everybody cried, they preached so good. I's a mourner when I git free.

"I's big 'nough to work round the house when war starts, but not big 'nough to be studyin' 'bout marryin'. I's sho' sorry when we's sot free. Old master didn't tell his niggers they free. He didn't want them to go. On a day he's gone, two white men come and showed us a piece of paper and say we's free now. One them men was a big mill man and told mama he'll give her $12.00 a month and feed her seven li'l niggers if she go cook for his millhands. Papa done die in slavery, so mama goes with the man. I run off and hid under the house. I wouldn't leave till I seed master. When he come home he say, 'Lizzie, why didn't you go?' I say, 'I don't want to leave my preserves and light bread.' He let me stay.

"Then I gits me a li'l man. He works for master in the store and I works round the house. Master give me two dresses and a pair of shoes when I married. We lived with him a year or two and then come to Marshall. My husband worked on public work and I kept house for white folks and we saved our money and buyed this li'l farm. My man's dead fourteen years now and my gal and her husband keeps the farm goin'.

"Me and my man didn't have nothin' when we left Nacogdoches, but we works hard and saves our money and buyed this farm. It 'pear like these young niggers don't try to 'cumulate nothin'.

420226

MOSE HURSEY believes he is about eighty-two years old. He was born
in slavery on a plantation in Louisiana, and was brought to Texas
by his parents after they were freed. Mose has been a preacher most
of his life, and now believes he is appointed by God to be "Head
Prophet of the World." He lives with his daughter at 1120 Tenth
St., Dallas, Texas.

"I was born somewhere in Louisiana, but can't rec'lect the place exact, 'cause I was such a little chap when we left there. But I heared my mother and father say they belonged to Marse Morris, a fine gentleman, with everything fine. He sold them to Marse Jim Boling, of Red River County, in Texas. So they changes their name from Morris to Boling, Liza Boling and Charlie Boling, they was. Marse Boling didn't buy my brother and sister, so that made me the olderest child and the onliest one.

"The Bolings had a 'normous big house and a 'normous big piece of land. The house was the finest I ever seen, white and two-story. He had about sixty slaves, and he thought a powerful lot of my folks, 'cause they was good workers. My mother, special, was a powerful 'ligious woman.

"We lived right well, considerin'. We had a little log house like the rest of the niggers and I played round the place. Eatin' time come, my mother brung a pot of peas or beans and cornbread or side meat. I had 'nother brother and sister comin' 'long then, and we had tin plates and cups and knives and spoons, and allus sot to our food.

"We had 'nough of clothes, sich as they was. I wore shirttails out of duckings till I was a big boy. All the little niggers wore shirttails. My mother had fair to middlin' cotton dresses.

"All week the niggers worked plantin' and hoein' and carin' for the livestock. They raised cotton and corn and veg'tables, and mules and horses and hawgs and sheep. On Sundays they had meetin', sometimes at our house, sometimes at 'nother house. Right fine meetin's, too. They'd preach and pray and sing--shout, too. I heared them git up with a powerful force of the spirit, clappin' they hands and walkin' round the place. They'd shout, 'I got the glory. I got that old time 'ligion in my heart.' I seen some powerful 'figurations of the spirit in them days. Uncle Billy preached to us and he was right good at preachin' and nat'rally a good man, anyways. We'd sing:

"'Sisters, won't you help me bear my cross,
Help me bear my cross,
I been done wear my cross.
I been done with all things here,
'Cause I reach over Zion's Hill.
Sisters, won't you please help bear my cross,
Up over Zion's hill?'

"I seed a smart number of wagons and mules a-passin' along and some camp along the woods by our place. I heared they was a war and folks was goin' with 'visions and livestock. I wasn't much bigger'n a minute and I was scared clean to my wits.

"Then they's a time when paw says we'll be a-searchin' a place to stay and work on a pay way. They was a consider'ble many niggers left the Bolings. The day we went away, which was 'cause 'twas the breakin' up of slavery, we went in the wagon, out the carriage gate in front the Boling's place. As we was leavin', Mr. Boling called me and give me a cup sweet coffee. He thought consid'ble plenty of me.

"We went to a place called Mantua, or somethin' like that. My paw says he'll make a man of me, and he puts me to breakin' ground and choppin' wood. Them was bad times. Money was scarce and our feedin' was pore.

"My paw died and maw and me and the children, Nancy and Margina and Jessie and George, moves to a little place right outside Sherman. Maw took in washin' and ironin'. I went one week to school and the teacher said I learned fastest of any boy she ever see. She was a nice, white lady. Maw took me out of school 'cause she needed me at home to tend the other children, so's she could work. I had a powerful yearnin' to read and write, and I studied out'n my books by myself and my friends helped me with the cipherin'.

"I did whatever work I could find to do, but my maw said I was a different mood to the other children. I was allus of a 'ligious and serious turn of mind. I was baptised when I was fifteen and then when I was about twenty-five I heared a clear call to preach the Gospel-word. I went to preachin' the word of Gawd. I got married and raised a family of children, and I farmed and preached.

"I was just a preacher till about thirty years ago, and then Gawd started makin' a prophet out of me. Today I am Mose Hursey, Head Prophet to the World. They is lesser prophets, but I is the main one. I became a great prophet by fastin' and prayin'. I fast Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays. I know Gawd is feedin' the people through me. I see him in visions and he speaks to me. In 1936 I saw him at Commerce and Jefferson Streets (Dallas) and he had a great banner, sayin', 'All needs a pension.' In August this year I had a great vision of war in the eastern corner of the world. I seen miles of men marchin' and big guns and trenches filled with dead men. Gawd tells me to tell the people to be prepared, 'cause the tides of war is rollin' this way, and all the thousands of millions of dollars they spend agin it ain't goin' to stop it. I live to tell people the word Gawd speaks through me.

420081

CHARLEY HURT, 85, was born a slave of John Hurt, who owned a large
plantation and over a hundred slaves, in Oglethorpe County,
Georgia. Charley stayed with his master for five years after the
Civil War. In 1899 Charley moved to Fort Worth, and now lives at
308 S. Harding St.

"Yes, suh, I'm borned in slavery and not 'shamed of it, 'cause I can't help how I'm borned. Dere am folks what wont say dey borned in slavery.

"Us plantation am near Maxie, over in Oglethorpe County, in Georgia, and massa am John Hurt and he have near a hunerd slaves. Us live in de li'l cabin make from logs chink with mud and straw and twigs am mix with dat mud to make it hold. De big chimley am outside de cabin mostly, and am logs and mud, too. De cabin am 'bout ten by twenty feet and jus' one room.

"Would I like some dem rations we used to git, now? 'Deed I would. Dem was good, dat meat and cornmeal and 'lasses and plenty milk and sometimes butter. De meat am mostest pork, with some beef, 'cause massa raise plenty hawgs and tendin' meat curin' am my first work. I puts dat meat in de brine and den smokes de hams and shoulders. When hawg-killin' time come I'm busy watchin' de smokehouse, what am big, and hams and sich hung on racks 'bout six feet high from de fireplace. Den it my duty to keep dat fire smoulderin' and jus' smokin'. De more smoke, de better. Den I packs dat meat in hawgs heads and puts salt over each layer. Dat am some meat!

"I mus' tell you 'bout dat whiskey and brandy. Massa have he own still and allus have three barrels or more whiskey and brandy on hand. Den on Christmas Day, him puts a tub of whiskey or brandy in de yard and hangs tin cups 'round de tub. Us helps ourselves. At first us start jokin' with each other, den starts to sing and everybody am happy. Massa watches us and if one us gittin' too much, massa sends him to he cabin and he sleep it off. Anyway, dat one day on massa's place all am happy and forgits dey am slaves.

"De last Christmas 'fore surrender I gits too much and am sick. Gosh a-mighty! Dat de sickest I ever be and dat de last time I gits drunk. Yes, suh, dat spoil dis nigger's taste for whiskey.

"Now, 'bout whuppin's, dere am only one whuppin' what am give. Jerry gits dat, 'cause he wont do what massa say. He tie Jerry on de log and have de rawhide whip.

"Dere am system on dat plantation. Everybody do he own work, sich as field hands, stock hands, de blacksmith and de shoemaker and de weavers and clothes makers. I'm all 'round worker and goes after de mail, jus' runnin' 'round de place.

"When de war start, all massa's sons jines de army. He have three. John am de captain and James carry de flag and I guesses August am jus' de plain sojer. Dey all comes home 'fore de war am finish. August git run over by de wheel of de cannon truck and it cripple he legs so he can't walk good. James gits sick with some kind fever misery and he am sent home. Den John am shot in de shoulder and it stay sore and won't heal. One day Jerry say to massa he want to look at dat sore. Him see somethin' stickin' out and he pull it. It a piece of young massa's coat and de bullet have carry it into de flesh and it am dere a whole year. De sore gits all right after dat out.

"'Fore de boys goes to fightin' dey trains near de place where am de big field for to train hunerds of sojer boys. I likes dat, 'cause de drums goes, 'ter-ump, ter-ump, ter-ump, tump, tump,' and de fifes goes, 'te, te, ta, te, tat' and plays Dixie. One day Young massa trainin' dem sojers and he am walkin' backwards and facin' dem sojers, and jus' as him say, 'Halt,' down he go, flat on he back. Right away quick, him say, ''Bout face,' 'cause him don't want dem sojers to laugh in he face, so he turn dem 'round.

"When surrender come, all dem what not kilt comes home and dey have a big 'ception in Maxie. Dey have lots of long tables and de food am put on 'fore de train come in. Dere was two coaches full of de boys and dey doesn't wait for dat train to stop. No, suh, dey crawls out de windows. Well, dere am huggin' and kissin' of de homefolks, and dey all laughin' and cryin' at de same time, 'cause of de joy dey's feelin'. Den dey all sets down to de feast. Massa make de welcome talk. I done hide in de wagon full of hams and cakes and pies and dere a canvas over dat stuff, and dat how I gits to dat welcome home.

"I crawls out 'fore dey unloads de wagon and 'fore long massa see me and him say, 'Gosh for hemlock! Boy, how comes you here?' I lets my face slip a li'l, 'bout half a laugh. I says, 'I rides under dat canvas.' Dat start him laughin' and he tells de people dat I'm a pat'otic nigger. After dey all eats us niggers gits to eat. For once, I gits plenty pie and cake.

"Us never have much joyments in slave time. Only when de corn ready for huskin' all de neighbors comes dere and a whole big crowd am a-huskin' and singin'. I can't 'member dem songs, 'cause I'm not much for singin'. One go like dis:

"'Pull de husk, break de ear;
Whoa, I's got de red ear here.'

"When you finds de red ear, dat 'titles you to de prize, like kissin' de gal or de drink of brandy or somethin'. Dey not 'nough red ears to suit us.

"I'm thirteen year when surrender come. Massa don't call us to him like other massas done. Him jus' go 'mongst de folks and say, 'Well, folks, yous am free now and no longer my prop'ty, and yous 'titled to pay for work. I 'member old Jerry sings, 'Free, free as de jaybird, free to flew like de jaybird. Whew!'

"Some de cullud folks stays and some goes. Mostest dem stays and works de land on shares. I stays till I'm eighteen year and den I works for a farmer den for a blacksmith den some carpenter work and some railroadin'. De fact am, I works at anything I could find to does. I does dat most my life.

"It good for me to stay with Massa Hurt after freedom, 'cause den day plenty trouble in every place. Dere am fightin' 'twixt white and cullud folks over votin' and sich. Dey try 'lect my brudder to Congress one time, but he not 'lect, 'cause de white man what am runnin' 'gainst him gits a cullud preacher to run 'gainst dem both. Dat split de cullud votes and de white man am 'lect. I votes like de white man say, couple times, but after dat I stops votin'. It ain't right for me to vote 'less I knows how and why. I larns to read and den starts votin' 'gain.

"After de war de Ku Klux am org'nize and dey makes de niggers plenty trouble. Sometimes de niggers has it comin' to 'em and lots of times dey am 'posed on. Dere a old, cullud man name George and he don't trouble nobody, but one night de white caps--dat what dey called--comes to George's place. Now, George know of some folks what am whupped for no-cause, so he prepare for dem white caps. When dey gits to he house George am in de loft. He tell dem he done nothin' wrong and for dem to go 'way, or he kill dem. Dey say he gwine have a free sample of what he git if he do wrong and one dem white caps starts up de ladder to git George and George shoot him dead. 'Nother white cap starts shootin' through de ceilin'. He can't see George but through de cracks George can see and he shoots de second feller. So dey leaves and say dey come back. George runs to he old massa and he takes George to de law men. Never nothin' am done 'bout him killin' de white caps, 'cause dem white caps goes 'round 'busing niggers.

"I comes to Texas 'bout 40 year since and gits by purty good till de depression comes, den it hard for me. My age am 'gainst me, too, and many de time I's wish for some dat old ham and bacon on de old plantation.

"First I marries Ann Arrant, in 1898 dat was, and us have three chillen but dey all dead. Us git sep'rate in 1917 and I marries Mary Durham in 1921, and us still livin' together. Us have no chillen. Mammy have ten chillen but I'm de only one what am livin' now, 'cause I'm de youngest.

420088

WASH INGRAM, A 93 year old Negro, was born a slave of Capt. Jim
Wall, of Richmond, Va. His father, Charley Wall Ingram, ran away
and secured work in a gold mine. Later, his mother died and Capt.
Wall sold Wash and his two brothers to Jim Ingram, of Carthage,
Texas. When Wash's father learned this, he overtook his sons before
they reached Texas and put himself back in bondage, so he could be
with his children. Wash served as water carrier for the Confederate
soldiers at the battle of Mansfield, La. He now lives with friends
on the Elysian Fields Road, seven miles southeast of Marshall,
Texas.

"I don' know just how ole I is. I was 'bout 18 when de War was over. I was bo'n on Captain Wall's place in Richmond, Virgini'. Pappy's name was Charlie and mammy's name was Ca'line. I had six sisters and two brothers and all de sisters is dead. I haven't heard from my brothers since Master turn us loose, a year after de war.

"Pappy say dat he and mammy was sold and traded lots of times in Virgini'. We always went by de name of whoever we belonged to. I first worked as a roustabout boy dere on Capt. Wall's place in Virgini'. He was sho' a big man, weighed more'n 200 pounds. He owned lots of niggers and worked lots of land. The white folks was good to us, but Pappy was a fightin' man and he run off and got a job in a gold mine in Virgini'.

"After pappy run away, mammy died and den one day de overseer herded up a big bunch of us niggers and driv us to Barnum's Tradin' Ya'd down in Mississippi. Dat's a place where dey sold and traded Niggers jus' lak stock. I cried when Capt. Wall sold me, 'cause dat was one man dat sho' was good to his niggers. But he had too many slaves.

"Cotton was a good price den and dem slave buyers had plenty of money. We was sold to Jim Ingram, of Carthage. He bought a big gang of slaves and refugeed part of 'em to Louisiana and part to Texas. We come to Texas in ox wagons. While we was on the way, camped at Keachie, Louisiana, a man come ridin' into camp and someone say to me, 'Wash, dar's your pappy.' I didn' believe it 'cause pappy was workin' in a gold mine in Virgini'. Some of de men told pappy his chillen is in camp and he come and fin' me and my brothers. Den he jine Master Ingram's slaves so he can be with his chillen.

"Master Ingram had a big plantation down near Carthage and lots of niggers. He also buyed land, cleared it and sol' it. I plowed with oxen. We had a overseer and sev'ral taskmasters. Dey whip de niggers for not workin' right, or for runnin' 'way or pilferin' roun' master's house. We woke up at four o'clock and worked from sunup to sundown. Dey give us an hour for dinner. Dem dat work roun' de house et at tables with plates. Dem dat work in de field was drove in from work and fed jus' like hosses at a big, long wooden trough. Dey had to eat with a wooden spoon. De trough and de food was clean and always plenty of it, and we stood up to eat. We went to bed soon after supper durin' de week for dat's 'bout all we feel like doin' after workin' twelve hours. We slep' in wooden beds what had corded rope mattresses.

"We had to learn de best way we could, 'cause dere was no schools. We had church out in de woods. I didn' see no money till after de surrender. Guess we didn' need any, 'cause dey give us food and clothes and tobacco. We didn' have to buy nothin'. I had broadcloth clothes, a blue jean overcoat and good shoes and boots.

"De niggers had heap better times dan now. Now we work all time and can't git nothin'. Sat'day night we would have parties and dance and play ring plays. We had de parties dere in a big double log house. Dey would give us whiskey and wine and cherry brandy, but dere wasn' no shootin' or gamblin'. Dey didn' 'low it. De men and women didn' do like dey do now. If dey had such carryin's on as dey do now, de white folks would have whipped 'em good.

"I 'member dat war and I sees dem cannons and hears 'em. I toted water for de soldiers what fought at de Battle of Mansfield. Master Ingram had 350 slaves when de war was over but he didn' turn us loose till a year after surrender. He telled us dat de gov'ment goin' to give us 40 acres of land and a pair of mules, but we didn' git nothin'. After Master Ingram turn us loose, pappy bought a place at De Berry, Texas, and I live with him till after I was grown. Den I marry and move to Louisiana. I come back to Texas two years ago and lived with my friends here ever since. My wife died 18 years ago and I had a hard time 'cause I don' have no folks, but I's managed to git someone to let me work for somethin' to eat, a few clothes and a place to sleep.

420047

CARTER J. JACKSON, 85, was born in Montgomery, Alabama, a slave of
Parson Dick Rogers. In 1863 the Rogers family brought Carter to
Texas and he worked for them as a slave until four years after
emancipation. Carter was with his master's son, Dick, when he was
killed at Pittsburg, Pa. Carter married and moved to Tatum in 1871.

"If you's wants to know 'bout slavery time, it was Hell. I's born in Montgomery, over yonder in Alabama. My pappy named Charles and come from Florida and mammy named Charlotte and her from Tennessee. They was sold to Parson Rogers and brung to Alabama by him. I had seven brothers call Frank and Benjamin and Richardson and Anderson and Miles, Emanuel and Gill, and three sisters call Milanda, Evaline and Sallie, but I don't know if any of 'em are livin' now.

"Parson Rogers come to Texas in '63 and brung 'bout 42 slaves and my first work was to tote water in the field. Parson lived in a good, big frame house, and the niggers lived in log houses what had dirt floors and chimneys, and our bunks had rope slats and grass mattress. I sho' wish I could have cotch myself sleepin' on a feather bed them days. I wouldn't woke up till Kingdom Come.

"We et vegetables and meat and ash cake. You could knock you mammy in the head, eatin' that ash cake bread. I ain't been fit since. We had hominy cooked in the fireplace in big pots that ain't bad to talk 'bout. Deer was thick them days and we sot up sharp stobs inside the pea field and them young bucks jumps over the fence and stabs themselves. That the only way to cotch them, 'cause they so wild you couldn't git a fair shot with a rifle.

"Massa Rogers had a 300 acre plantation and 200 in cultivation and he had a overseer and Steve O'Neal was the nigger driver. The horn to git up blowed 'bout four o'clock and if we didn't fall out right now, the overseer was in after us. He tied us up every which way and whip us, and at night he walk the quarters to keep us from runnin' 'round. On Sunday mornin' the overseer come 'round to each nigger cabin with a big sack of shorts and give us 'nough to make bread for one day.

"I used to steal some chickens, 'cause we didn't have 'nough to eat, and I don' think I done wrong, 'cause the place was full of 'em. We sho' earned what we et. I'd go up to the big house to make fires and lots of times I seed the mantel board lined with greenbacks, 'tween mantel and wall and I's snitched many a $50.00 bill, but it 'federate money.

"Me and four of her chillen standin' by when mammy's sold for $500.00. Cryin' didn't stop 'em from sellin' our mammy 'way from us.

"I 'member the war was tough and I went 'long with young massa Dick when he went to the war, to wait on him. I's standin' clost by when he was kilt under a big tree in Pittsburg, and 'fore he die he ask Wes Tatum, one the neighbor boys from home, to take care of me and return me to Massa George.

"I worked on for Massa Rogers four year after that, jus' like in slavery time, and one day he call us and say we can go or stay. So I goes with my pappy and lives with him till 1871. Then I marries and works on the railroad when it's builded from Longview to Big Sandy, 'bout 1872. I works there sev'ral years and I raises seven chillen. After I quits the railroad I works wherever I can, on farms or in town.

420092

JAMES JACKSON, 87, was born a slave to the Alexander family, in
Caddo Parish, La. When he was about two, his master moved to Travis
County, Texas. A short time later he and his two brothers were
stolen and sold to Dr. Duvall, in Bastrop Co., Texas. He worked
around Austin till he married, when he moved to Taylor and then to
Kaufman. In 1929 he went to Fort Worth where he has lived ever
since.

"I was bo'n at Caddo Parish, dats in Louisiana, on de Doc Alexander plantation. My mother says I was bo'n on de 18th day of December, in de year of 1850. I guess dat's right, 'cause I's 87 years ole dis comin' December.

"Jus' 'bout dat time dey started shippin' de darkies to Texas. My marster moved to Travis County, Texas, and tuk all his slaves wid him. I was too young to 'member, but my mother, she told me 'bout it.

"It wasn' long after we was on Marster Alexander's new place in Travis County, till one night a man rode up on a hoss and stole me and my two brothers and rode away wid us. He tuk us to Bastrop County and sold us to Doc Duvall. Marster Duvall sold my brother right after he bought us, but me and John, we stayed wid him till de slaves was freed.

"On Marster Duvall's plantation de slaves all lived in log cabins back of de big house. Dey was one room, two rooms and three room cabins, dependin' on de size of de family. Most had dirt floors, but some of 'em had log slabs. We had dese ole wooden beds wid a rope stretch 'cross de bottom and a mattress of straw or cotton dat de niggers got in de fiel'. We had lots to eat, like biscuit, cornbread, meat and sich stuff. Most times dey made coffee outta parch cornmeal. We had gardens and raised most of de stuff to eat.

"I herds sheep and is houseboy most of de time. When I was ole enough, I picks cotton. I was jus' learnin' when de slaves was freed. Marster Duvall had over 500 acres in cotton and he kep' us in de fiel' all de time, 'cept Saturday afternoon and Sunday.

"Dey had meetin' and dances Saturday nights. I was too young to 'member jus' what de songs was, but dey had a fiddle and played all night long. On ever' Sunday de niggers went to Church in de evenin'. Dey had a white preacher in de mornin' and a cullud preacher in de evenin'.

"Marster Duvall would whip de niggers who was disobedience and he jus' call dem up and ask dem what was de trouble, den he would whip dem wid a cowhide or a rope whip. We could go anywhere iffen we had a pass, but if we didn' de paddlerollers would ketch us. They was kinda like policemen we got today.

"In slavery, dey traded and sold niggers like dey do hosses and mules. Dey carry dem to de court house and put dem on de block and auction 'em off. Some sold for roun' $3,000. It was hard to sell one wid scars on him, 'cause nobody wanted him. I seen 'em come by in droves, all chained together.

"When de slaves was free dey was sho' happy. Dey all got together and had a kin' of cel'bration. Marster told dem if dey wanted to stay and help make de crop, he'd give 'em 50 cents a day and a place to stay. Some tuk him up on dat and stayed, but a lot of dem left dere. Me and my brother, we started walkin' to Austin. In Austin we finds our mother, she was working for Judge Paschal. She hires us out to one place and den another.

"Since freedom I done most everything anybody could do. I been porter and waiter in hotels and rest'rants. I been factory hand, and worked for carpenters and in de roun' house. I picked cotton and worked on de farm.

"I been married 61 years. I gits married at home, like civilize folks do. I raised a big family, 12 chillen, but only five is alive today. I moved here in 1929 and looks like I's here till I die.

420188

MAGGIE JACKSON was born a slave of the Sam Oliver family, in Cass
Co., Texas, near Douglasville. She is about 80 years old and her
memory is not very good, so her story gives few details. She lives
with her daughter near Douglasville, on highway #8.

"I am about 80 years old and was a chile during slavery times. My papa's name was Tom Spencer Hall and my mama's name was Margaret Hall. My brothers and sisters was Maria and Barbara and Alice and Octavia and Andrew and Thomas and Hillary and Eugenia and Silas and Thomas. We was a big fam'ly.