Chapter VII: Part 7

"De houses was log cabins. De men slaves built 'em. Dey goes into de woods and chops down de big trees and den dey make 'em square. Did dey have tools? Sho, dey had a ax and a hatchet. Dey splits de trees in two and dat makes de sides of de house and de roun' side is outside. How dey make dem logs tight? Jus' wid mud. Den dey puts de boards over de mud so it cain't fall out. When dey makes de boards dey splits de end of de log and puts de hatchet in de place and it makes a nice, smooth board.

"Dey makes de beds like dat too. Dey takes four sticks and lays poles in de crotches, den dey puts branches crossways. No suh, dey never had no springs. For a mattress dey had hay and straw, sometimes corn shucks or cobs. Dey slep' good, too.

"After de war we lived on de plantation a long time, den we moved to San Marcos, den back to de plantation. I was married on de plantation and moved here 24 years ago. I liked de slavery days de best."

Betty Powers

*Betty Powers, 80, was born a slave of Dr. Howard Perry, who owned Betty's family, several hundred other slaves and a large plantation in Harrison Co., Texas. Betty married Boss Powers when she was only thirteen. She now lives at 5237 Fletcher St., Fort Worth, Texas.*

"What for you wants dis old nigger's story 'bout de old slavery days? 'Tain't worth anythin'. I's jus' a hard workin' person all my life and raised de fam'ly and done right by 'em as best I knowed. To tell the truf 'bout my age, I don't know 'zactly. I 'members de war time and de surrender time. I's old 'nough to fan flies off de white folks and de tables when surrender come. If you come 'bout five year ago, I could telt you lots more, but I's had de head mis'ry.

"I's born in Harrison County, 'bout twenty-five miles from Marshall. Mass's name am Dr. Howard Perry and next he house am a li'l buildin' for he office. De plantation an awful big one, and miles long, and more'n two hundred slaves was dere. Each cabin have one family and dere am three rows of cabins 'bout half a mile long.

"Mammy and pappy and us twelve chillen lives in one cabin, so mammy has to cook for fourteen people, 'sides her field work. She am up way befo' daylight fixin' breakfast and supper after dark, with de pine knot torch to make de light. She cook on de fireplace in winter and in de yard in summer. All de rations measure out Sunday mornin' and it have to do for de week. It am not 'nough for heavy eaters and we has to be real careful or we goes hongry. We has meat and cornmeal and 'lasses and 'taters and peas and beans and milk. Dem short rations causes plenty trouble, 'cause de niggers has to steal food and it am de whippin' if dey gits cotched. Dey am in a fix if dey can't work for bein' hongry, 'cause it am de whippin' den, sho', so dey has to steal, and most of 'em did and takes de whippin'. Dey has de full stomach, anyway.

"De babies has plenty food, so dey grow up into strong, portly men and women. Dey stays in de nursery whilst dey mammies works in de fields, and has plenty milk with cornbread crumble up in it, and pot-licker, too, and honey and 'lasses on bread.

"De massa and he wife am fine, but de overseer am tough, and he wife, too. Dat woman have no mercy. You see dem long ears I has? Dat's from de pullin' dey gits from her. De field hands works early and late and often all night. Pappy makes de shoes and mammy weaves, and you could hear de bump, bump of dat loom at night, when she done work in de field all day.

"Missy know everything what go on, 'cause she have de spies 'mongst de slaves. She purty good, though. Sometimes de overseer tie de nigger to a log and lash him with de whip. If de lash cut de skin, dey puts salt on it. We ain't 'low to go to church and has 'bout two parties a year, so dere ain't much fun. Lawd, Lawd, most dem slaves too tired to have fun noway. When all dat work am finish, dey's glad to git in de bed and sleep.

"Did we'uns have weddin's? White man, you knows better'n dat. Dem times, cullud folks am jus' put together. De massa say, 'Jim and Nancy, you go live together,' and when dat order give, it better be done. Dey thinks nothin' on de plantation 'bout de feelin's of de women and dere ain't no 'spect for dem. De overseer and white mens took 'vantage of de women like dey wants to. De woman better not make no fuss 'bout sich. If she do, it am de whippin' for her. I sho' thanks de Lawd surrender done come befo' I's old 'nough to have to stand for sich. Yes, sar, surrender saves dis nigger from sich.

"When de war am over, thousands of sojers passes our place. Some camps nearby, and massa doctors dem. When massa call us to say we's free, dere am a yardful of niggers. He give every nigger de age statement and say dey could work on halves or for wages. He 'vises dem to stay till dey git de foothold and larn how to do. Lots stays and lots goes. My folks stays 'bout four years and works on shares. Den pappy buys de piece of land 'bout five miles from dere.

"De land ain't clear, so we'uns all pitches in and clears it and builds de cabin. Was we'uns proud? There 'twas, our place to do as we pleases, after bein' slaves. Dat sho' am de good feelin'. We works like beavers puttin' de crop in, and my folks stays dere till dey dies. I leaves to git married de next year and I's only thirteen years old, and marries Boss Powers.

"We'uns lives on rent land nearby for six years and has three chillen and den he dies. After two years I marries Henry Ruffins and has three more chillen, and he dies in 1911. I's livin' with two of dem now. I never took de name of Ruffins, 'cause I's dearly love Powers and can't stand to give up he name. Powers done make de will and wrote on de paper, 'To my beloved wife, I gives all I has.' Wasn't dat sweet of him?

"I comes to Fort Worth after Ruffins dies and does housework till I's too old. Now I gits de $12.00 pension every month and dat help me git by."

Tillie R. Powers

*Tillie R. Powers was born free in Oklahoma, near the Washita River. Her mother had been kidnapped by a band of raiding Indians, one of whom was her father. Her mother, desiring to prevent her from living among the Indians, wrapped her in a buffalo robe and laid her on the road near the Washita, where she was found by Joseph Powers, an army officer, who took her to his plantation in Edgecombe Co., North Carolina. She lives at 1302 E. 11th St. Fort Worth, Texas.*

"I don' 'member my mammy or pappy, and all I knows 'bout my early life was tol' me by Marster Powers. He says him and he wife takin' soldiers back to some fort and dey sees a bundle side de road near de Washita River, wropped in a buffalo robe. He gits off his hoss and picks de bundle up and in dat bundle am de piccaniny, dis nigger. Dat 77 year ago. Dey took me to Edgecombe Co., over in North Car'lina, whar him owns a plantation and 'bout 50 slaves. Dere I's 'dopted.

"Dey raises de cotton and tobaccy and corn and sich. Den dere am hawgs and chickens and sheep, and sich a orchard with peaches and pears and sich. Mos' de work I done in slavery was eat de food, 'cause I's only six year old when de war am over. But I 'members 'bout de plantation.

"De treatment am good and bad. If de nigger gits onruly, him gits a whippin', but de marster's orders is for not to draw de blood like I heered dey do on other places. De food is plenty, 'cept for de shortage cause by de War. When de food gits short, some of de niggers am sent a-hustlin' for game, sich as de turkey and de squirrel, but we'uns allus has plenty cornmeal and 'lasses and fruit.

"Did we'uns see sojers? Lawd-a-massy! Towards de las', jus' 'fore surrender and after, we'uns see dem by thousands, de Yanks and de 'federates, dey's passin' and repassin'. When de War am over, de marster come home and he calls all us cullud folks to de house and him reads a paper and says, 'All yous niggers am free, and you can go whar you wants, but I 'vises yous not to go till yous has a place for work and make de livin'. All de niggers stay at fust, den leave one after 'nother.

"I jus' de chile and de orphan, so I has to stay and it was bes' for me. Marster pays me when I big enough to work, and gives me $5.00 a month, and I works for him till I's 18 years old. Den de missy die and I leaves. Dat was de break-up of de place. I cries now when I thinks of de missy, 'cause she allus good to me and I feels for her.

"After dat, I works 'round a while and gits married to John Daniels in 1880. Dis nigger was better off in slavery dan with dat nigger. Why, him won't work and whips me if I complains. I stood dat for six year and den I's transported him. Dat in Roberts County. Marster Race Robinson brought dat no good nigger and me, with 'bout 50 other niggers, here to Texas. We 'uns share cropped for him till I transported dat ornery husban'.

"I makes a livin' workin' for white folks till 'bout three years ago and now I gits $15.00 every month from de State to live on, 'cause I has high blood now and I can't work no more."

Allen Price

*Allen Price was born in a covered wagon in Fannin Co., Texas, in 1862. His master was John Price. Allen remembers many incidents of pioneer days, and stories of the Civil War told him by the Price family. Allen now lives in Mart, Texas.*

"De way I comes to be born in Texas am my pappy and mammy is in de covered wagon, comin' to Texas with dere master, what am John Price, what was a Virginny man. Dey stops in Fannin County awhile and dere I'm born. Dat in 1862, dey tells me.

"De Price and Blair families was first ones to come to Texas. Dey had to use ox teams and ford creeks and rivers and watch for Indians. I done hear dem talk 'bout all dis, 'cause course I can't 'member it. Once de Indians done 'tack dem and dey druv 'em off, and every night near dey hears de howl of de wolves and other wild animals. Some folks went by boat and dey had river boat songs, one like dis:

"I'm drinkin' of rum and chawin' tobaccy,
Hi! Oh! The rollin' river!
I'm drinkin' of rum and chawin' tobaccy,
I'm boun' for the wide Missouri."

"Dese things am handed down to me by de Price family and my granddaddy. De Price family done fight for de Confed'racy all de way down de line of de family, to my own pappy, who went with he master when dey calls for volunteers to stop de blockade of Galveston.

"My master think he gwine 'scape de worst of de war when he come to Texas and dey am livin' peaceable de year I'm born, raisin' cotton. Dey had a gin what my pappy worked in, and makes dey own clothes, too, when de Yankees has de Texas ports blockade so de ships can't git in. When dey blockades Galveston, our old master done take my pappy for bodyguard and volunteers to help. Fin'ly Gen. Magruder takes Galveston from de Yankees with two old cotton steamers what have cotton bales on de decks for breastworks.

"De last battle Master Price and my pappy was in, was de battle of Sabine Pass, and de Yankee general, Banks, done send 'bout five thousand troops on transports with gunboats, to force a landin'. Capt. Dick Dowling had forty-seven men to 'fend dat Pass and my pappy helped build breastworks when dem Yankees firin'. Capt. Dowling done run dem Yankees off and takes de steamer Clinton and 'bout three hundred and fifty prisoners. My pappy told me some de Captain's men didn't have real guns, dey have wood guns, what dey call cam'flage nowadays.

"My pappy helped at de hospital after dat battle, and dey has it in a hotel and makes bandages out of sheets and pillow cases and underwear, and uses de rugs and carpets for quilts.

"I 'member dis song, what dey sing all de time after de war:

"O, I'm a good old Rebel, and dat's jus' what I am,
And for dis land of freedom, I do not give a damn;
I'm glad we fought again 'em, and only wish we'd won,
And I ain't asked no pardon for anything I've done.

"I won't be reconstructed, I'm better dan dey am,
And for a carpetbagger I do not give a damn.
So I'm off to de frontier, soon as I can go--
I'll fix me up a weapon and start for Mexico!

"I can't get my musket and fight dem now no more,
But I'm not goin' to love dem, dat am certain sho'--
I don't want no pardon for what I was or am,
I won't be reconstructed, and I don't give a damn.

"I has mighty little to say 'bout myself. I's only a poor Baptist preacher. De her'tage handed down to me am de proudes' thing I knows. De Prices was brave and no matter what side, dey done fight for dey 'lief in de right."

John Price and wife Mirandy

*John Price, nearing 80, was born a slave of Charles Bryan, in Morgan City, Louisiana. The Bryans brought him to Texas about 1861, and he now lives in Liberty. Mirandy, his wife, was also a slave, but has had a paralytic stroke and speaks with such difficulty that she cannot tell the story of her life. Their little home and yard are well cared for.*

"I's five year old when de Lincoln war broke up and my papa was name George Bryan in slavery time and he come from St. Louis, what am in Missouri. After freedom de old boss he call up de hands and say, 'Iffen you wants to wear my name you can, but take 'nother one iffen you wants to.' So my daddy he change he name to George Price and dat why my name John Price.

"My old massa name George Bryan and he wife name Felice. Dey buy my papa when he 18 year old boy and dey take him and raise him and put all dey trust in him and he run de place when de old man gone. Dat in Morgan City, in Louisiana on de Berwick side.

"De year I's one year old us come to Texas and settle in Liberty. I wes a-layin' in my mammy's arms and her name Lizette but dey call her Lisbeth. She mos'ly French. I got three sister, Sally Hughes and Liza Jonas and Celina, and two brothers, Pat Whitehouse and Jim Price.

"De white folks have a tol'able fair house one mile down south of Raywood and it were a long, frame house and a pretty good farm. Us quarters was log houses built out of li'l pine poles pile one top de other. Dey have nail up log, country beds and home-made tables and rawhide bottom chairs and benches. Dem chair have de better weight dan de chair today. Iffen you rare back now, de chair gone, but de rawhide stay with you.

"De old massa pretty fair to us all. Iffen my papa whip me I slips out de house and runs to de big house and crawls under de old massa's bed. Sometime he wake up in de middle de night and say, 'Boy,' and I not answer. Den he say 'gain, 'Boy, I know you under dat bed. You done been afoul your papa 'gain,' and he act awful mad. Den he throw he old sojer coat under de bed for to make me a pallet and I sleep dere all night.

"Us chillen have lots of time to play and not much time to work. Us allus ridin' old stick hosses and tie a rope to de stick and call it a martingale. Us make marbles out of clay and dry 'em and play with 'em. De old boss wouldn't 'low us have no knife, for fear us cut each other. Us never sick much dem days, but us have de toothache. Dey take white tree bark what taste like peppermint and stew it up with honey and cure de toothache.

"Us never go to church. Some my wife's people say dey used to have a church in de hollow and dey have runners for to watch for de old boss man and tell 'em de massa comin'.

"Us old massa say Christmas Day am he day to treat and he tell us 'bout Santy Claus. Us taken us socks up to he house and hang dem 'round de big fireplace and den in de mornin' us find candy and cake and fruit and have de big time. New Year Day was old missy time. She fix de big dinner on dat day and nobody have to work.

"When de war is breakin' old massa come by ship to Galveston up de Trinity River to Liberty by boat to try to save he niggers, but it wasn't no use. Us see lots of tents out by Liberty and dey say it sojers. I tag long with de big boys, dey sneaks out de spades and digs holes in de prairie in de knolls. Us plannin' to live in dem holes in de knolls. When dey say de Yankees is comin' I sho' is 'fraid and I hear de cannon say, 'Boom, boom,' from Galveston to Louisiana. De young white missy, she allus sing de song dat go:

"We are a band of brothers, native to de soil,
Fightin' for our liberty with treasure, blood and toil,
And when us rights was threaten', de cry rise far and near,
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag what bears a single star.

"After freedom my papa move away but de old massa come after him and worry him till he 'most have to come back. When my li'l sister have de whoopin' cough, old massa come down in a hurry and say, 'You gwineter kill dem chillen,' and he puts my sister and brother on de hoss in front of him and takes 'em home and cures 'em hisself. It were years after dat 'fore my papa leave him 'gain.

"Dey driv beefs and have two rivers to cross to git dere, de Sabine and de Neches. Dey 'liver 'em by so many head and iffen dey ain't have 'nough, other mens on de prairie help 'em fill out de number what dey needs. I's rid many a wild hoss in my day and dat's where I make my first money for myself.

"I's workin' in Hyatt when I 'cide to git marry and I marry dis gal, Mirandy, 'bout 52 year ago and us still been together. Us marry in Moss Bluff and Sam Harris, he a cullud man, he de preacher what marry us. I have on pretty fair suit of clothes but one thing I 'member, de gal I marry, she have $5.00 pair of shoes on her feet what I buys for her.

"Us done have five sons and three daughters and I been a pretty 'fluential man 'round Liberty. One time dey a man name Ed Pickett what was runnin' for Clerk of de Court in Liberty County and he come 'round my place 'lectioneering, 'cause he say whatever way I votes, dey votes.

"Did you ever hear a old coon dog? Old coon dog, he got a big, deep voice what go, 'A-woo-o-o, a-woo-o-o.' You can hear him a mile. Well, dat Ed Pickett he say to me, 'John Price, you know what I wants you to do? I wants you put dat other feller up a tree. I wants you put him so fur up a tree he can't even hear dat coon dog beller.' And I does it, 'cause I's pretty 'fluential 'round here."

Reverend Lafayette Price

*Reverend Lafayette Price, ancient and venerable minister of a small, dilapidated church on the outskirts of Beaumont, received his education under his old master, a plantation owner of the South. He was born a slave of the Higginbotham family, in Wilcox County, Alabama, but after the death of his original master, he became known as "orphan children property" and went to Louisiana to live with Robert and Jim Carroll, brothers-in-law of Sam Higginbotham. During the Civil War, LaFayette, then about 12 years old (he does not know his exact age) served as water boy for young Robert Carroll at the battle of Mansfield. When the slaves were freed he came to Texas and has been a minister since that time. He lives with his one daughter in a small, ramshackle house near the church and conducts Baptist services each Sunday. LaFayette is small and very dark, and with his crop of almost white hair and his Van Dyke beard, he has facial characteristics much like those of the patriarch who played the part of "De Lawd" in the "Green Pastures" picture. His conversation is that of a devout person, well informed in the Scriptures.*

"I had a statement when I was bo'n, but I don' 'member jus' now. When de war fus' start I was water toter for my marster. Well, now den, I wan' to say dat my marster whar I was bo'n in Wilcox County, Alabama, his name was Higginbotham. When Mr. Higginbotham die, his son, Mr. Sam Higginbotham, was my young marster. When he married, he marry in de Carroll family. My father and mother belong to Mr. Higginbotham. Mr. Sam, he move to Louisiana. When he went back to Alabama, he tuk sick wid de cholera and die dere. Mr. Sam, he marry Miss Ca'line Carroll. Later on after Mr. Sam die Miss Ca'line marry Mr. Winn. I become orphan chillen property. Mr. Winn was de overseer. When I was a small boy I had playtime. I allus had good owners. When I get bigger I had some time off after work in de evenin's and on Sundays. Den I want to say I was hired out an' dey claimed dey was goin' to be a war. The north and de south was goin' to split apart. In 1861 war commence and my mistress die. I was den stayin' wid de Carroll family. De Carrolls were brothers of my owner. Mr. Jim and Mr. Robert was soldiers in de war. Mr. Robert was in de infantry and Mr. Jim they took him along to drive. When dey was goin' to Barn Chest (evidently the name of a place) Mr. Robert he say to me, 'Fay, you go back home and tell ma she need not be oneasy 'bout me, 'cause de Yankees is retreatin' to Nachitoches.' So I driv back but I didn' put up de team. When I was tellin' her, it was 'bout three mile over to Mosses Fiel' (Mosses' Field was the local name for the tract of land on which the battle of Mansfield was fought, in part). When I was tellin' her, a big cannon shot overhead--'Boom'. She jus' shook and say, 'Oh, Fay, git some co'n and throw it to de hogs and go to Chicet.' I got some co'n and start to git out de crib. Dey shot another cannon. She say to me, 'Go back and give de co'n to de pigs.' When I put my feets through de crib do', dey shoot another shot, and I pull my feets back. She tell me to go back and feed de pigs, but I don' know if I ever did git de co'n to de pigs.

"Mr. Carroll say dat at Mansfiel' where dey was shootin' de big guns de ladies was cryin'. He told 'em dey needn' to cry now, when dey was shootin' de big guns dey wasn't killin' men, but when dey hear de little guns shoot, den dey could start cryin', 'cause dat mean dat men was gittin' kill. I dunno if you ever parch popco'n. Dat de way de little guns soun'. He say dat den dey could begin cryin'. Our w'ite people (the Confederates) was comin' from Shreveport to meet de Yankees from Nachitoches, aimin' to go to Shreveport. If anything was a wunnerful consideration it was den. Mr. Robert Carroll was stood up by a big tree there at Mansfiel' and de captain, he said, "Is anybody here dat know de neighborhood?" Here's de ting dey want to know: When de soldiers start out dey didn' want 'em to launch out and git mix up. Dey sent for Mr. Carroll, 'cause he live 'bout a mile away. He was order to stan' by de tree and de captain went by wavin' a sword, and purty soon de captain was kill. Dey kep' on fightin' and after awhile a soldier come by and ax what he doin' there. He said he had orders to stan' dere. De soldier say dat de captain was kill and for him to go and help wid de wounded soldiers. When de big General come from Shreveport and holler, 'Charge,' de Yankees git in de corner of a rail fence. Dey broke right through dat fiel' o' prairie and 60 men git kill dead befo' dey git across. Nex' day, comin' home, I want to tell you de hosses didn' lay on dis side nor on dat side, dey jus' squat down, dey was dead. I think it was a wunnerful consideration to bring up in mem'ry.

"One night right w'ere de battle was fought we had to camp. It was rainin' and sleetin' and snowin! I said, 'What you goin' to do tonight?' Mr. James Carroll said, 'We jus' hafta stan' w'ere we camp. Jus' stack de guns and put out what you call de watchman.' I said, 'Sentinel,' and he said, 'Yes.' Dey had what you call de relief. Dey wasn't in bed, dey was out under a tree in de col'. Ev'ry hour dey'd walk 'em out 'long a runway to walk guard. It was a wunnerful distressin' time. De soldiers had a little song dey sung:

"'Eat when you're hungry,
Drink when you're dry,
Iffen a tree don' kill you,
You'll live 'til you die.'

"Dis was 'cause dey had to stan' under trees and when de Yankees shoot cannon dey'd knock off limbs and tops of trees and them under de trees might git kill from de fallin' branches. Another song was:

"'Hit was on de eighth of April,
Dey all 'member well,
When fifes and drums were beatin'
For us all to march away.'

"In slavery times de slaves went to church wid dere w'ite folks and heard de w'ite preacher. I never knew of cullud baptisms. Dey'd have camp meetin' and when cullud people wanted to jine de church dey'd take 'em in den. I didn' quite git through 'bout de Mansfiel' battle. Dem 60 men dat was kill, dey jus' dig a big hole and put 'em in and threw dirt on 'em. I went back after two or three days and de bodies done swell and crack de groun'. Marster's plantation comin' from Shreveport was on de eas' side of Mosses Fiel'. We was 'bout one and a half or two mile' from Mosses Fiel'. I wasn't acquaint' wid many w'ites 'cause I was wid de Carrolls and dey was allus kind. I heard dey was people dis way and dat, but I don' know 'bout dat. My w'ite folks see dat I was not abused. When news of de surrender come lots of cullud folks seem to be rejoicin' and sing, "I's free, I's free as a frog" 'cause a frog had freedom to git on a log and jump off when he please. Some jus' stayed on wid dere w'ite folks. One time dey say dey sen' all de niggers back to Africa. I say dey never git me. I bin yere, and my w'ite folks bin yere, and yere I goin' to stay. My young marster say he want me for a nigger driver, so he teach me how to read and spell so I could ten' to business. In time of de war Miss Ca'line say de soldiers been dere and take de bes' hoss. Dey sent me off wid Ball, a little hoss. When I come back I meet some soldiers. Dey say dey goin' take de hoss, if dey don' de Yankees come take 'em. I tell 'em dey done got Marster Carroll other hoss, to leave dis one. Dey say, "Git down, I goin' give you a few licks anyhow." I fall down but dey never hit me and dey say, "Maybe dat Mr. Carroll whose hoss we tuk, let dis boy go on wid de hoss." Miss Ca'line say she wish she'd let me take Dandy, dey was de bes' hoss.

"I wan' to tell you one story 'bout de rabbit. De rabbit and de tortus had a race. De tortus git a lot of tortuses and put 'em long de way. Ever now and den a tortus crawl 'long de way, and de rabbit say, "How you now, Br'er Tortus?" And he say, "Slo' and sho', but my legs very short." When dey git tired, de tortus win 'cause he dere, but he never run de race, 'cause he had tortuses strawed out all 'long de way. De tortus had other tortuses help him."

Henry Probasco

*Henry Probasco, 79, was born a slave of Andrew McGowen, who owned a plantation and 50 slaves in Walker County, Texas. Henry lived with his family, in Waco, until 1875, when he became a stock hand on Judge Weakly's ranch in Ellis County. In 1902 he came to Fort Worth and worked in packing plants until 1932. Since that time he has supported himself by any little work he could find and now has an $8.00 per month pension. He lives at 2917 Cliff St., Fort Worth, Texas.*

"I's born on Massa McGowen's plantation. He name was Andrew McGowen and us lived near Huntsville, down in Walker County. All my folks and grandfolks was dere. Grandpap am carpenter, grandma am nuss for cullud chillen, and pappy and mammy does de shoemakin' and de cookin'.

"In de days I's a boy even de plows was made on de place. De blacksmith do de iron work and de wood work am done by pappy, and de plows am mostly wood. Jus' de point and de shear am iron. My grandpap made de mouldboards out of wood. No, sar, 'twarnt no steel mouldboards den. I's watch grandpap take de hard wood block and with de ax and de drawshave and de plane and saw and rule, him cut and fit de mouldboard to de turnin' plow. De mouldboard las' 'bout one year.

"Now, with de shoes it am dif'rent and dem last more'n twict de time as store shoes. Gosh for 'mighty! We'uns can't wear dem out. De leather am from cattle raise on de place and tan right dere. It am real oak tan, and strong as steel. We'uns grease de shoes with mutton tallow and dat make dem waterproof shoes.

"Cotton am main crop and corn for feed. De corn feed both de critters and de niggers, 'cause de main food for de niggers am de corn and de cornbread and de corn mush. Course, us have other victuals, plenty meat and veg'tables. De hawgs allus run in de woods and find dere own food, sich as nuts and acorns. Dey allus fat and when massa want meat he hitch de mules to de wagon and go to de woods. Dere him catch de hawg with massa's mark on it and fotch it in.

"De quarters am not mansions, dey am log cabins with dirt floors, but good 'nough. Dey am fixed tight for de winter. If you am used to sleepin' in de bunks with straw ticks, it's jus' good as de spring bed. De fust time I sleeps on de spring bed, I's 'wake most all night.

"When surrender come, massa told we'uns dat all us am free folks and he reads from de paper. 'Now,' him say, yous am free and dem what wants to go, let me know. I'll 'range for de pay or to work de land on shares.'

"Some goes but all my folks stays, but in 'bout a year pappy moves to Waco and run a shoe shop. I stays with him till I 17 year old, den I goes to Ellis County and works on de cattle ranch of Judge Weakly. His brand am 111 and him place clost to Files Valley. I's larnt to ride some on de plantation and soon I's de good rider and I likes dat work best.

"We has lots of fun when we goes to town, not much drinkin', like some people says, but its mostest mischievious de boys am. We gits de joke on de preacher once. Him tellin' 'bout harm of drink and one of us say, 'Read from de Bible, Proverbs 31, 6 and 7. Him reads and it am like dis:

'Give de strong drink to dem dat am ready to perish and wine to dem what am heavy of heart.' Dat de last time him talk to us 'bout drink.

"We'uns holds de Kangaroo Court. If we'uns been on de party and someone do something what ain't right, den charges am file 'gainst you. If dem charges file, it's sho' you's found guilty, 'cause de fine am a drink for de bunch. If you don't buy de drink it's a lickin' with a pair of leggin's. If you 'low de hoss to throw you, dat am cause for charges.

"De last round-up I works am at Oak Grove, near Fort Worth and dat 'bout 40 year ago. After dat, I goes to Mulesfoot and works for T.D. Myers for 'bout five year, den I's done a little farmin' on de plains for awhile.

"I'll tell you 'bout my married life. I marries de fust time when I's 24 year old to Bertha Ellers and we'uns live togedder 20 year and sep'rates. We'uns have 11 chillen. Couple year after dat I goes to de cotton patch for de short spell and meets a woman. We'uns right off married and dat hitch lasts till de pickin' season am over. Den, 'bout two year after dat cotton pickin' hitch I marries Mary Little and we'uns lives togedder two year and dat am two year too many. Dat de last of de marriage business.

"Now I jus' fools de time away and I has no one to fuss at me 'bout where I goes and sich. Sich am my joyment now."

Jenny Proctor

*Jenny Proctor was born in Alabama in 1850. She was a slave of the Proctor family and began her duties about the house when a very young girl. As soon as she was considered old enough to do field labor she was driven with the other slaves from early morning until late at night. The driver was cruel and administered severe beatings at the slightest provocations. Jenny remained with her owners after the close of the Civil War, not from choice but because they had been kept in such dense ignorance they had no knowledge of how to make their own living. After the death of her master several years later, she and her husband, John Proctor, came to Texas in a mule drawn covered wagon and settled in Leon County near the old town of Buffalo. There they worked as share croppers until the death of her husband. She then came to San Angelo, Texas with her son, with whom she has made her home for many years.*

Jenny, who was ill at the time she was interviewed, shook her old white head and said,

"I's hear tell of dem good slave days but I ain't nev'r seen no good times den. My mother's name was Lisa and when I was a very small chile I hear dat driver goin' from cabin to cabin as early as 3 o'clock in de mornin' and when he comes to our cabin he say, 'Lisa, Lisa, git up from dere and git dat breakfast.' My mother, she was cook and I don't recollect nothin' 'bout my father. If I had any brothers and sisters I didn' know it. We had ole ragged huts made out of poles and some of de cracks chinked up wid mud and moss and some of dem wasn't. We didn' have no good beds, jes' scaffolds nailed up to de wall out of poles and de ole ragged beddin' throwed on dem. Dat sho' was hard sleepin' but even dat feel good to our weary bones after dem long hard days work in de field. I 'tended to de chillun when I was a little gal and tried to clean de house jes' like ole miss tells me to. Den soon as I was 10 years ole, ole marster, he say, 'Git dis yere nigger to dat cotton patch.' I recollects once when I was tryin' to clean de house like ole miss tell me, I finds a biscuit and I's so hungry I et it, 'cause we nev'r see sich a thing as a biscuit only some times on Sunday mornin'. We jes' have co'n braid and syrup and some times fat bacon, but when I et dat biscuit and she comes in and say, 'Whar dat biscuit?'

"I say, 'Miss, I et it 'cause I's so hungry.' Den she grab dat broom and start to beatin' me over de head wid it and callin' me low down nigger and I guess I jes' clean lost my head 'cause I know'd better den to fight her if I knowed anything 'tall, but I start to fight her and de driver, he comes in and he grabs me and starts beatin' me wid dat cat-o'-nine-tails,[1] and he beats me 'til I fall to de floor nearly dead. He cut my back all to pieces, den dey rubs salt in de cuts for mo' punishment. Lawd, Lawd, honey! Dem was awful days. When ole marster come to de house he say, 'What you beat dat nigger like dat for?' And de driver tells him why, and he say, 'She can't work now for a week, she pay for several biscuits in dat time.' He sho' was mad and he tell ole miss she start de whole mess. I still got dem scars on my ole back right now, jes' like my grandmother have when she die and I's a-carryin' mine right on to de grave jes' like she did.

[1] A big leather whip, branching into nine tails.

"Our marster, he wouldn' 'low us to go fishing, he say dat too easy on a nigger and wouldn' 'low us to hunt none either, but some time we slips off at night and ketch 'possums and when ole marster smells dem 'possums cookin' way in de night he wraps up in a white sheet and gits in de chimney corner and scratch on de wall and when de man in de cabin goes to de door and say, 'Who's dat?' He say, 'It's me, what's ye cookin' in dere?' and de man say, 'I's cookin' 'possum.' He say, 'Cook him and bring me de hind quarters and you and de wife and de chillun eat de rest.' We nev'r had no chance ter git any rabbits 'cept when we was a-clearin' and grubbin' de new grounds, den we ketch some rabbits and if dey looks good to de white folks dey takes dem and if dey no good de niggers git dem. We nev'r had no gardens. Some times de slaves git vegetables from de white folks' garden and sometimes dey didn'.

"Money? Umph um! We nev'r seen no money. Guess we'd a bought sumpin' to eat wid it if we ev'r seen any. Fact is, we wouldn' a knowed hardly how to bought anything, 'cause we didn' know nothin' 'bout goin' to town.

"Dey spinned de cloth what our clothes was made of and we had straight dresses or slips made of lowel. Sometimes dey dye 'em wid sumac berries or sweet gum bark and sometimes dey didn'. On Sunday dey make all de chillun change, and what we wears 'til we gits our clothes washed was gunny sacks wid holes cut for our head and arms. We didn' have no shoes 'ceptin' some home made moccasins and we didn' have dem 'til we was big chillun. De little chillun dey goes naked 'til dey was big enough to work. Dey was soon big enough though, 'cordin' to our marster. We had red flannel for winter under clothes. Ole miss she say a sick nigger cost more den de flannel.

"Weddin's? Ugh um! We jes' steps over de broom and we's married. Ha! Ha! Ha!

"Ole marster he had a good house. De logs was all hewed off smooth like and de cracks all fixed wid nice chinkin', plum 'spectable lookin' even to de plank floors, dat was sumpin'. He didn' have no big plantation but he keeps 'bout 300 slaves in dem little huts wid dirt floors. I thinks he calls it four farms what he had.

"Sometimes he would sell some of de slaves off of dat big auction block to de highest bidder when he could git enough fer one.

"When he go to sell a slave he feed dat one good for a few days, den when he goes to put 'em up on de auction block he takes a meat skin and greases all 'round dat nigger's mouth and makes 'em look like dey been eatin' plenty meat and sich like and was good and strong and able to work. Sometimes he sell de babes from de breas' and den again he sell de mothers from de babes and de husbands and de wives, and so on. He wouldn' let 'em holler much when de folks be sold away. He say, 'I have you whooped if you don't hush.' Dey sho' loved dere six chillun though. Dey wouldn' want no body buyin' dem.

"We might a done very well if de ole driver hadn' been so mean, but de least little thing we do he beat us for it, and put big chains 'round our ankles and make us work wid dem on 'til de blood be cut out all around our ankles. Some of de marsters have what dey call stockades and puts dere heads and feet and arms through holes in a big board out in de hot sun, but our old driver he had a bull pen, dats only thing like a jail he had. When a slave do anything he didn' like he takes 'em in dat bull pen and chains 'em down, face up to de sun and leaves 'em dere 'til dey nearly dies.

"None of us was 'lowed to see a book or try to learn. Dey say we git smarter den dey was if we learn anything, but we slips around and gits hold of dat Webster's old blue back speller and we hides it 'til way in de night and den we lights a little pine torch[2], and studies dat spellin' book. We learn it too. I can read some now and write a little too.

[2] Several long splinters of rich pine, of a lasting quality and
making a bright light.

"Dey wasn't no church for de slaves but we goes to de white folks' arbor on Sunday evenin' and a white man he gits up dere to preach to de niggers. He say, 'Now I takes my text, which is, nigger obey your marster and your mistress, 'cause what you git from dem here in dis world am all you ev'r goin' to git, 'cause you jes' like de hogs and de other animals, when you dies you ain't no more, after you been throwed in dat hole.' I guess we believed dat for a while 'cause we didn' have no way findin' out different. We didn' see no Bibles.

"Sometimes a slave would run away and jes' live wild in de woods but most times dey ketch'em and beats 'em, den chains 'em down in de sun 'til dey nearly die. De only way any slaves on our farm ev'r goes anywhere was when de boss sends him to carry some news to another plantation or when we slips off way in de night. Sometimes after all de work was done a bunch would have it made up to slip out down to de creek and dance. We sho' have fun when we do dat, most times on Sat'day night.

"All de Christmas we had was ole marster would kill a hog and give us a piece of pork. We thought dat was sumpin' and de way Christmas lasted was 'cordin' to de big sweet gum back log what de slaves would cut and put in de fireplace. When dat burned out, de Christmas was over. So you know we all keeps a lookin' de whole year 'round for de biggest sweet gum we could find. When we jes' couldn' find de sweet gum we git oak, but it wouldn' last long enough, 'bout three days on average, when we didn' have to work. Ole marster he sho' pile on dem pine knots, gittin' dat Christmas over so we could git back to work.

"We had a few little games we play, like Peep Squirrel Peep, You Can't Catch Me, and sich like. We didn' know nothin' 'bout no New Year's Day or holidays 'cept Christmas.

"We had some co'n shuckin's sometimes but de white folks gits de fun and de nigger gits de work. We didn' have no kind of cotton pickin's 'cept jes' pick our own cotton. I's can hear dem darkies now, goin' to de cotton patch way 'fore day a singin':

"'Peggy, does you love me now?'

"One ole man he sing:

"'Sat'day night and Sunday too
Young gals on my mind,
Monday mornin' way 'fore day
Ole marster got me gwine.

Chorus:

Peggy, does you love me now?'

"Den he whoops a sort of nigger holler, what nobody can do jes' like dem ole time darkies, den on he goes,

"'Possum up a 'simmon tree,
Rabbit on de ground
Lawd, Lawd, 'possum,
Shake dem 'simmons down.
Peggy, does you love me now?
_Holler_
Rabbit up a gum stump
'Possum up a holler
Git him out little boy
And I gives you half a dollar.
Peggy, does you love me now?'

"We didn' have much lookin' after when we git sick. We had to take de worst stuff in de world fer medicine, jes' so it was cheap. Dat ole blue mass and bitter apple would keep us out all night. Sometimes he have de doctor when he thinks we goin' to die, 'cause he say he ain't got any one to lose, den dat calomel what dat doctor would give us would purty nigh kill us. Den dey keeps all kinds of lead bullets and asafoetida balls 'round our necks and some carried a rabbit foot wid dem all de time to keep off evil of any kind.

"Lawd, Lawd, honey! It seems impossible dat any of us ev'r lived to see dat day of freedom, but thank God we did.

"When ole marster comes down in de cotton patch to tells us 'bout bein' free, he say, 'I hates to tell you but I knows I's got to, you is free, jes' as free as me or anybody else what's white.' We didn' hardly know what he means. We jes' sort of huddle 'round together like scared rabbits, but after we knowed what he mean, didn' many of us go, 'cause we didn' know where to of went. Ole marster he say he give us de woods land and half of what we make on it, and we could clear it and work it or starve. Well, we didn' know hardly what to do 'cause he jes' gives us some ole dull hoes an' axes to work with but we all went to work and as we cut down de trees and de poles he tells us to build de fence 'round de field and we did, and when we plants de co'n and de cotton we jes' plant all de fence corners full too, and I never seen so much stuff grow in all my born days, several ears of co'n to de stalk and dem big cotton stalks was a layin' over on de ground. Some of de ole slaves dey say dey believe de Lawd knew sumpin' 'bout niggers after all. He lets us put co'n in his crib and den we builds cribs and didn' take long 'fore we could buy some hosses and some mules and some good hogs. Dem mangy hogs what our marster give us de first year was plum good hogs after we grease dem and scrub dem wid lye soap. He jes' give us de ones he thought was sho' to die but we was a gittin' goin' now and 'fore long we was a buildin' better houses and feelin' kind of happy like. After ole marster dies we keeps hearin' talk of Texas and me an' my ole man, I's done been married several years den and had one little boy, well we gits in our covered wagon wid our little mules hitched to it and we comes to Texas. We worked as share croppers around Buffalo, Texas 'til my ole man he died. My boy was nearly grown den so he wants to come to San Angelo and work, so here we is. He done been married long time now and got six chillun. Some of dem work at hotels, and cafes and fillin' stations and in homes."

A.C. Pruitt

*A.C. Pruitt was born about 1861, a slave of the Magill family, in St. Martinville, La. He lives in a settlement of Negroes, on the road leading from Monroe City to Anahuac, in a shanty made of flattened tin cans, odd pieces of corrugated iron and scrap lumber, held together with rope, nails and tar paper. Pruitt migrated from Beaumont to Monroe City when the oil boom came and ekes out an existence doing odd jobs in the fields. He is a small, muscular man, dressed in faded work clothes and heavy brogans, laced with string.*

"I really does live in Beaumont, but when dey start dat talk 'bout makin' sich good money in de oil fields I done move out here to git some of dat. It ain't work so good, though, and I been tearin' down part my house dis week and plannin' to move back.

"I ain't 'lect much 'bout slavery time, 'cause I jes' too li'l but I can tell some things my mama and grannma done told me.

"I's born in St. Martinville, over in Louisiana. I done go back to de old plantation onct but it start to change den. Dave Magill he was de old massa and Miss Frances de missy. My mama name Rachel Smith and she born and raise right dere, and my daddy I ain't never seed, but mama say he name Bruford Pruitt. Dey brudders and sisters but only one livin' and dat Clementine James in Beaumont.

"Jes' 'fore freedom us done move to Snowball, Texas, what was somewheres clost to Cold Springs. Dey told us dey tryin' keep us slaves 'way from de Yankees. Dey everywhere, jes' like dem li'l black ants what gits in de sugar, only dey blue. I's jes' de li'l chile den, runnin' 'round in my split shirt tail. Dem was sho' fancy shirt tails dey make us wore in dem days. Dey make 'em on de loom, jes' in two pieces, with a hole to put de head through and 'nother hole at de bottom to put de legs through. Den dey split 'em up de side, so's us could run and play without dem tyin' us 'round de knees and throw us down. Even at dat, dey sho' wasn't no good to do no tree climbin', less'n you pull dem mos' up over you head.