Chapter III: Part 3

"Us has parties and singin' and dancin' and fiddle music. Oh, Lawdy! How lonesome I gits when I thinks 'bout dem days, and de music and singin'. Sometimes 'bout a hunerd sings to once and dat sound purty and jus' go all through me.

"For runnin' off am de only hard whuppin's massa give. De run-off am tie to de log and massa lay de whuppin' on he back. De plantation am near de river and dere am lots of caves and cliffs to hide in. Massa cotch de run-offs with de nigger hounds and if he don't, dey git hongry and sneaks back. Only one gits clear away.

"One Sunday mornin' 'bout ten o'clock, massa have de bell ring and calls all us to de front gallery and makes de talk. He say, 'I's happy to tell yous is free and, 'cording to de law, yous am all citizens. Dem what wants to stay with me I'll pay de wages or dey can work on shares.' He gives us all de paper, with de name and age and where us am birthed. Me and mammy stays two years after freedom. I marries Sol Pleasant in 1872 and us has two chillen. Us sep'rate in 1876. De trouble am, he wants to be de boss of de job and let me do de work. I 'cides I don't need no boss, so I transports him, and says, 'Nigger, git out of here and don't never come back. If you comes back, I'll smack you down.'

"In 1876 I marries Frank Spinks and us has eight chlllen and he dies in 1930. All dem eight chillen lives here and I's livin' with one of dem, Mrs. Covy Kelly. 'Tain't many years befo' old Gabriel blow he horn, and I's waitin' for him."

Guy Stewart

*Guy Stewart, 87, 209 Austin Ave., Ft. Worth, was born Nov. 26, 1850, a slave of Jack Taylor, who also owned Guy's parents, 3 brothers and 3 sisters. They lived in Mansfield Parish, La. Stewart started work in the fields at seven years, and remained with his owner three years after he was freed. He then moved onto his own farm where he lived until 1898, when he moved to Fort Worth.*

"Yas, suh, I'se an ol' slave and I'se 'bout 11 years ol' when de War starts. My marster am Jack Taylor and my family belongs to him.

"I 'members de war well, 'cause we'uns hears shootin' and see soldiers. Dey comes to marster's place and takes hosses and vittals. One time dey wants some of de niggers for to help fix for de battle. Dere am heap of 'citement and de marster's 'fraid de battle come too close. He say, 'It's too close for saftment.' And he say, 'Put dis and dat away so de soldier cain't find it.'

"I starts work long 'fore dat, when I'se seven, in de cotton and co'n field. I just peddles 'round first. Marster sho' am good to us and so good dat de other white folks calls us de 'free niggers.'

"We'uns have cabins for to live in and sleep in bunks with straw ticks on 'em. We'uns has lots to eat, all we wants. And we'uns have all de clothes we needs.

"Sho, we went to church with de marster. Dey tol' us 'bout Heaven and de devil and sich. But dey never 'lows us to have books in de hands. Dey says it wasn' good for us to larn readin' or writin.' "We'uns has lots of music on dat place 'cause de marster, he am de good fiddler and he learns some of us niggers to play de fiddle and de banjo. We gits together and has de music, sing and dance. If I thinks 'bout dem days now, I can see we'uns dancin' and hear de singin' of dem ol' songs, sich like Ol' Black Joe and Swanee River. Iffen I thinks too much 'bout dem days, tears comes in dis ol' nigger's eyes. Dem were de happy days of my life. In dem days, we'uns not know what am money, never have any. What for we'uns need it? I'se more happy den, dan I been since, with money.

"De marster am scart for to lose all de hosses and everything, 'cause dey takes it for de army man, so he gits to thinkin' 'bout movin' to Texas. De war warn't over when he goes to Texas and takes all us niggers with him. De roads dem days am not so good. No bridges over de rivers, 'cept de bigges' ones. Lots of times we'uns has to push for help de hosses pull de wagons outta de mudhole, and we'uns is over a month gettin' to Williams County. De marster rents de land dere and we stays for one crop, and den we all goes to Travis County, whar marster settle for to raise de wheat.

"When freedom comes, de marster says we'uns has to work for wages and buy all de food and de clothes and everything dat we'uns gits. Dat's not so easy. At first he pays me $5.00 a month and den pays me $10.00 de month. After three years I quits and rents a farm and works for myself, I gits married in 1877 and my wife dies in 1915. We'uns has one chile. In 1898 I comes to Fort Worth and gits me a job in de woodyard and sich.

"White man, I sho' likes for to see dat ol' plantation down in Louisiana and it would do dis ol' darky good. I sits here and thinks of de marster and de good times. And de fishin down dere! Is dere good fishin'? De folks here don' know what am fishin'.

"You has dis nigger thinkin' heaps 'bout de ol' plantation and de good times. If I don' stop talkin' 'bout dat, I gits to cryin'."

William Stone

*William Stone was born in a covered wagon, on the way from Alabama to Texas, about 1863. Though he was too small to remember slave days, he does recall many things told him by his parents and other ex-slaves. William lives in Mart, Texas.*

"My parents done told me where I's borned. It am in a covered wagon on de way from Alabama to Texas, two years 'fore freedom. Old Marse, Lem Stone, he left Alabama for Texas, where de war not so bad, and brung some he slaves with him. He done lost so much in Alabama, Yankees burnin' he house and cotton and killin' he stock, he want to git 'way from dere.

"First he come to Rusk County, den goes back to Shreveport and stays till freedom. Pappy and mammy was Louis and Car'line Stone. I lived in Louisiana till I's growed.

"Mammy and pappy done told me all 'bout de old plantation. It am hundreds of acres of land, part worked and part jus' timber and pasture. It was near Montgomery, and dey raised more cotton den anything else, but had some corn and peas and cane. Dey made sorghum and ribbon cane 'lasses and had boilin' vats for sugar, too.

"De soldiers come through. Dey named, Yankees. Dey make mammy cook somethin' to eat and den kilt all de hawgs and took de meat with dem, and burn de barn and house. Old Marse had pens to put cotton in, hid way out in de bresh. Dey picked it in gunny sacks and hides it, and slips it out to de gin by night and tries to sell it 'fore dem Yankees finds it and burns it.

"Mammy say dey all went to church and had to drive four horses when de roads muddy in winter and sand deep in summer. Dey allus carry dinner and stay all day. Den in de evenin', after de niggers had dey preachin', dey all go home. Sometimes a preacher come out to de plantation and hold church for de white folks in de mornin' and in de evenin' for de niggers, out under a big oak tree.

"De Lawd say iffen us trusts him and help to be good he gwine make our path straight. Dis was true in de days of den, 'cause our white folks tooken care of us, befo' dey was freedom and sech. Now, us gittin' old, and gits de old age pension when us too old to work.

"I works all up and down de old river when I's growed. De plantations has long staple cotton. Dey raise sugar cane and dere be twenty wagons haulin' cane to de boilin' mills. We was happy to do dat work, 'cause we knowed it mean us have plenty 'lasses in winter. Lawdy, I wish I knowed I could have all de 'lasses and bread I wanted dis winter! Dem was good times, Lawd! Us sing dis song:

"'We'll stick to de hoe till de sun go down,
We'll rise when de rooster crow,
And go to de field where de sunshine hot,
To de field where de sugar cane grow.
Yes, chilluns, we'll all go.'

"I can jes' see dem long rows of cotton and niggers drivin' de oxen and mules. I know 'nother song:

"Nigger mighty happy when he layin' by de corn,
Nigger mighty happy when he hear dat dinner horn;
But he more happy when de night come on,
Dat' sun's a'slantin', as sho's you born!
Dat old cow's a shakin' dat great big bell,
And de frogs tunin' up, 'cause de dew's done fell.'

"Dat jes' after freedom. Dey have plantations and overseers like slavery, but most de overseers niggers, and dey didn't whip you den. On Saturday night de overseer pay us, mostly in rations. He give us five, maybe ten pounds rations of meat, and a peck or two or meal, and some coffee and 'lasses.

"'Dat ration day come once a week,
Old massa rich as Gundy.
But he give 'lasses all de week,
And buttermilk for Sunday.

"'Old massa give a pound of meat,
I et it all on Monday;
Den I et 'lasses all de week,
And buttermilk for Sunday.'

"All dis was down on de Mississippi bottom. Old Man River was sho' purty in de fall, when dem wild geeses come in droves and de blossoms red and yaller. De fogs come hang over and chills and fever gits started. De woman sot by de fire piecin' quilts and spinnin' thread, and de old men weave cotton baskets and chair bottoms, and de young men work on da levees, so dey hold Old Man River back when he start prowlin' round 'gain.

"Floods come down, no matter what time of year. One day Old Man River be runnin' 'long, jes' as peaceful and quiet, and everybody happy. Everybody meet de boats at de landin'. Den way in de night you wake up and hear a roarin' like thunder and dat river be on a tear. Folks know he am in de ugly mood, and starts movin' to higher ground. Everybody what have a wagon and mule gits out. Some jes' gits to de levee. It look like my folks told me when dey run from de Yankees, only dis time it's de river. Old Man River sho' treach'ous. After he go on one he rarin' and tearin' spells, den he gwine be so peaceful and quiet like. Look like he try to make up for he meanness.

"I gits married and moves clost to de Trinity River, and stays till my family done raised. Dey has free schools in Texas den. I works in de sawmill and dere so much wild game us can eat easy. Dem days on de Mississippi bottom is like a dream, but when I hears talk 'bout Old Man River, I can dem big waters roarin' down."

Yach Stringfellow

*Yach Stringfellow, 90, was born a slave of Frank Hubert, in Brenham, Texas. His memory is poor and, though he recalled a good many incidents of slavery days, he had little to say about his life from 1865 to the present. He now lives in Watt, Texas.*

"I'll be ninety-one years old next May, and I was borned in Brenham. My massa and missus was Frank Hubert and Sarah Ann Hubert. My daddy come from de old Africa and was tall and straight as a arrow. He was sold to a man what tooked him to California in de gold rush in 1849 and me and mammy stays with Massa Hubert. Dat how come my name ain't de same as massa have.

"I got so much misery in de head I can't 'member like I should. But I know us live in little log houses all kind of group together, and us eat in a long lean-to builded on to the big house. Us chillen had a long, scooped-out dish on a split log table. What we had to eat was dumped in dat trough and us ate it like slop. But it sho' taste good when you been huntin' for eggs or calves or gittin' in chips or breakin' bresh.

"When I's big 'nough I carries water, sometimes from de spring and sometimes from de deep well. Dere danger a little child fall in and drown and massa, he say niggers too valu'ble to risk dem dat way. It was hard work to tote water for niggers workin', 'cause allus somebody hollerin' for de water. I had to trot down de slippery bank through de thorns to de spring or pull de heavy sweep to git it out de well, and carry two buckets most de time.

"Us cut two saplin's de right size to fasten together at de end and stick dem in holes in de wall, to make de bed. Us use lace cowhide strings or any kind rope across de poles to hold de bed up. Den put hay or corn shucks and a little cotton in de ticks.

"Us eat bacon and cornbread and greens, but de white folks had more'n better. Dey didn't have to eat string victuals like us; us have to eat something to stick to de ribs. Right 'bout de time dis state come to be de United States, and de Mexicans raisin' de old billy, us cook most usual on de fireplace and have ovens by de side to make bread, and cranes for de pots.

"Us slaves used pine torches and sometimes a little bit of candle. De women make all de candles demselves for de white folks. Us didn't need much light at night, 'cause us tired after de long day, workin' from can see to can't see, and us git in de bed early.

"I wore shirt tail till I's fourteen, den de homespun britches and shirt. My weddin' suit was de dark jeans and I was fix up fine as any nigger on de plantation. She wore white and massa fix supper and git de fiddler and all sich.

"Massa have John to oversee, and he sho' de stepper. He be every place you didn't think he gwine come. He have de big, boom voice and allus slingin', and wail, 'Look along, black man, look along, dere trouble comin' sho'.' Iffen de black boy or woman lyin' in de corn row, dey git up quick and be mighty bust right soon, 'cause dat black snake whip reach for dem. Dey scramble deyself together and be de busiest in de bunch by time John git dere.

"In de long winter days de men sat round de fire and whittle wood and make butter paddles and troughs for de pigs and sich, and ax handles and hoe handles and box traps and figure-four traps. Dey make combs to git de wool clean for de spinnin'. Us take de long strip of leather and put wire in it and bend dem so dey stay, den cut dem comb-like teef and dere you are.

"Come Christmas us slaves have de big dinner and eat all day and dance till nex' mornin'. Some de niggers from near plantations git dey passes and come jine us. Course dey a drap egg nog round and candy for de chillen. De white folks have dey big carriage full of visitors and big goin's on dey come to from miles round. Us didn't have no money, but didn't have no place to go to spend it, neither.

"At night, us sat round de fire sometimes and de women sew and knit and de men whittle and told things. Dey talk 'bout charms and sich. You gwine have lots of luck iffen you cotch de rabbit in de graveyard on de dark of de moon and cut off he hind leg and wear it. Iffen you chews de piece of shoe-string root, jus' you ask anybody a favor and you sho' gwine git it."

Bert Strong

*Bert Strong was born in 1864, a slave of Dave Cavin. He and his mother remained in the service of the Cavin family for ten years after they were freed. Bert has farmed in Harrison County all his life and now lives alone on Long's Camp Road, twelve miles northeast of Marshall. He is supported by a $15.00 per month pension.*

"I been livin' here all my life. I was birthed a year and more 'fore the war stopped and 'longed to old Dave Cavin. All my folks 'longed to him over in Montgomery, in Alabama. Massa Dave buyed my mammy's papa off a 'baccy farm in Richmond, in Virginny. I heared Massa Dave say he done come to Texas 'cause he heared in Alabama this was a rich country--hawgs walkin' round with a knife in they back and you could shake money off the trees. His folks and 'bout thirty slaves cone to Texas in wagons. They was on the road three months.

"I heared my grand-people tell 'bout holpin' run the Indians out of Texas. Big Lake, on Caddo Lake, was jus' a small kind of stream them days. My grandpa was name Gloster and he died at a hunerd five years.

"Massa Cavin had 'bout four hunerd acres and builded us all good quarters with chimnies and fireplaces, and good beds and plenty food. I's too little to know all this 'fore the war, but my folks stayed with massa ten years after freedom and things was jus' the same as in slave times, only they got a little money, so I can 'member.

"My grandma was cook and there was plenty wild game, turkey and deer and pigeon and rabbits and squirrels. I 'member once they's grumblin' 'bout what they have to eat and old massa comes to the quarters and say, 'What you fussin' 'bout? They's a gallon good potlicker in the pot." I's raise on greens and pork and potlicker and 'taters and ash-cake. Dat am good food, too. I ain't never hope to see no better food dan dat.

"Massa give he slaves two sets clothes a year and one pair 'bachelor' brogan shoes with brass toes. The white folks larnt us Negroes to read and write, at night and on Sunday, and we could go to church. We had our own preacher, and massa let us have fun'rals when a slave died. They wasn't no undertakers then. They jus' made the coffin and planed the boards and lined it with black cloth. The white folks and the cullud folks, too, was put 'way nice on our place.

"They was a overseer a while, but massa fires him for cuttin' and slashin' he niggers. He made my uncle Freeman overlooker. We is heared slaves on farms close by hollerin' when they git beat. Some the neighbors works they hands till ten at night and weighed the last weighin' by candles. If the day's pickin' wasn't good 'nough, they beat them till it a pity.

"Christmas was the big time. Massa kilt the hawg or beef and sometimes a mutton, and give the slaves the big dinner. Us all hang the stockin' up on massa's gallery and it was a run to see what we'd git. He give the chillen toys and apples and the big folks somethin' to wear. He'd 'low the chillen to have candy pullin' Saturday nights and the growed folks parties. My cousin, Tom, was songster and call the plays at all the dances, and they turned 'cordin' to what he'd sing.

"When young massa went to war they calls all the slaves to tell him good-bye. They blowed the horn. He come home two times on a furlough and says, 'I's smellin' and seein' the Devil.' Then the nex' time he come home he say, 'Las' time I tells you 'bout smellin' the Devil. I's smellin' and seein' Hell now.' When the war am over, he come home and say to old massa, 'Ain't you read the 'lamation to you niggers yet?' Massa say he hasn't, and young massa blowed the horn and calls us all up and tells us we's free as he is and could work for who we please, but he like us to stay till the crop am out. He say he'd hire us and make a contrac'. Me and my mammy stays ten years, 'cause they so good it ain't no use to leave. One of the young massas am livin' here now, Mr. Tom, and I goes to see him.

"I stays with mammy till I marries and then farms for myself. That all I ever done and I'd be doin' it now if I was able. I raises two boys but they am both dead now.

"I votes once in the county 'lection and once in the president 'lection. I think any man should vote, but it ain't 'tended for women to vote.

"Mos' the young niggers am gwine to Hell. They don't 'preciate things. They has lots more'n we ever did. They can go to school and all, but they don't 'preciate it."

Emma Taylor

*Emma Taylor, 89, was born a slave of the Greer family, in Mississippi. She and her mother were sold to a Texas man, whose name Emma has forgotten. Emma lives with one of her children, in Tyler, Texas.*

"My maw and paw lived in Mississippi, and belonged to Marse Greer. Dat dere name, too. All the slaves tooken dere master's name, 'cause dey hadn't no use for a name, nohow.

"De first thing I 'members is followin' my maw in the cotton patch. She allus went ahead, pickin' cotton, and made a clean place with her sack draggin' on the ground. But de first work I ever done was feed de chickens and geese and shell corn to feed dem.

"Us nigger chillen couldn't play with de white chillen. De worstest whippin' I ever got was fer playin' with a doll what belonged to one marse's chillen. I 'members it yet and I ain't never seed a doll purty as dat doll was to me. It was make out a corncob with arms and legs what moved and a real head, with eyes and hair and mouth painted on. It had a dress out of silk cloth, jist like one my missus weared when she went to meetin'. Dat li'l gal done leave de doll under de tree, but missus found me playin' with it and whipped me hard.

"We lived in a cabin in de back field 'hind de big house, one room and a shed room, where maw done all de cookin' for de whole family. I had three brothers and three sisters, all dead, I supposes. Dey all older'n what I was. We cooked on a fireplace, and a big pot hanged on poles over de fire and de bread cook on dat fire in a skillet what was made of two pieces of iron, turn up all round. We puts de dough in one and turns de other one over it, den buries it in de coals a few minutes till it brown on de top and bottom. It was good, jist as good as nowadays, baked in a oven. Our beds was made out of straw and old rags, but we kept warm sleepin' a whole lot in one bed in winter, but we slept outside in summer.

"I was sold one time. Marse, he gittin' old and 'cide he didn't need so many slaves, so he have de sale and a man come and put us all up on a big platform. We pulls off nearly all our clothes, so as to show how big we was, and he 'gins hollerin' 'bout who gwineter buy, who gwineter buy. I was scart and thunk I has to leave maw, so I 'gins hollerin' jist as loud as he does. He turn 'round and say, 'Shut up, you li'l coon, you. I can't hear nothin'.' I hides my face in maw's apron and didn't know no more till we's all loaded in a wagon and starts to de new home. We gits dere and is give new clothes and shoes, de first ones I ever had on and it taken me a long time to larn to wear dem things on my feet.

"Us niggers has to git up at four in de mornin', and work, work till us can't see no more. Den dey work at night. De men chops wood and hauls poles to build fences and make wood, and de women folks has to spin four cuts of thread every night and make all de clothes. Some has to card cotton to make quilts and some weave and knits stockin's. Marse give each one a chore to do at night and iffen it warn't did when we went to bed, we's whipped. One time I falls plumb asleep befo' I finishes shellin' some corn, but I didn't git a bad whippin' dat time.

"Sometimes de niggers danced and played de fiddle and us chillen played in de yard. We could stay up all night dem times, but had to work next day, and hardly ever stayed up all night. Dat durin' harvest or at Christmas time.

"All de victuals was issued out by de overseer and he give 'nough for one week, den iffen us eat it all up too soon, it am jist go without. Lots of times, I went down to de 'tato patch a long time after everybody am in bed, and stole 'tatoes, so we wouldn't be hungry next day. I allus covered de hole up good and never did git cotched. De dogs got after me one time, but I put pepper in dey eyes and dey stopped. I allus carried pepper with me.

"I marries when I's fifteen, not so long befo' I'm free. Nigger men didn't git no license to marry dey gals den. Dey jist picked her out and asked marse, and iffen he 'grees, dey's married. But iffen he don't want it, dat man has to find heself 'nother gal. De men what lived on 'nother plantation couldn't see dere wives but onct every two weeks. Marse buyed my husban', Rube Taylor, and he come to live with me.

"One day marse say we's all free and we has a big celebration, eatin' and dancin'. But we near all stayed on his place for a long time after day. He paid us thirty-five cents de day and let us live in de same old houses.

"After we done left him, we jist drifts 'round, workin' for white folks, till we manages to git a farm. Rube done died a long time back, and I lives with my baby child."

Mollie Taylor

*Mollie Taylor, 84, was born a slave to John Wilson, at Campbell, Texas. After she was freed, Mollie moved with her family to an adjoining farm which they worked on shares. Mollie now lives at 522 Seaton St., Fort Worth, Texas.*

"Now den, I's no record of when I's born and just what de white folks tells me is all I knows. I'll be 84 this coming October, but just what day I don't know. I's born on Massa John Wilson's farm at Campbell, Texas and him owned my father and mother and 'bout 20 more slaves. Dere was 'bout four or five chillen in we'uns family. My father died and I don't 'member much 'bout him, but his name was Anson Wilson and my mother name was Hattie Wilson. We'uns gits de name from de massa.

"Us slaves lived in log houses back of massa's house, and they was two and three-room houses with dirt floors and de rock fireplace and just holes for windows. De flies come in de door and go out de window, but most of 'em stayed in de house. Dere was no furniture like am today. No, suh, it was homemake stuff. De bunks was built 'gainst de wall and full of straw or hay and de tables was made of split logs. Dere was de cook room and de eatin' room where all de slaves meals cooked and they ate, 'tween de slaves quarters and de massa's house.

"Massa Wilson, him feed us purty good, with de cornmeal and 'lasses and plenty coffee and milk. We has white flour once a week and massa git de sugar by de barrel. De slaves could have dere own gardens and dey raised most dere vegetables. All de chillen ate out of de wooden trough with wooden spoons. It was a sight to watch them, day just like de bunch of pigs.

"De overseer, him ring de bell 'bout half past four in de mornin' and everybody what work go to de fields. De massa purty reason'ble with de work and didn't whip much. On Sundays de old slaves goes to de church and de chillen plays.

"When war come dere lots of soldiers allus ridin' by de place, all deck out in de uniform with big, shiny buttons on de coat. When us chillen seed dem we took to de woods.

"After freedom we'uns moves to de next farm and works and I stays dere with my family till I's 'bout 25 year old, and den I marries Tom Gould and move to McLennan County. But he so mean I didn't stay with him very long, and 'bout six months of his foolishness and I ups and leaves him. After two years I marries George Taylor and I lives with dat man for 12 years and took 'nough of his foolishness, so I leaves him. I's had four chillen but Tom Gould nor George Taylor wasn't de father of any of 'em. No, suh, I just found dem chillen."

Jake Terriell

*Jake Terriell, born a slave of Felix Terriell in Raleigh, South Carolina, does not know his age. He was grown and married at the close of the Civil War, so is probably in the 90's. He lives in Madisonville, Texas.*

"Pappy and mammy was called Tom and Jane and they's cotched in Africy and brung to America and sold. My brother was called James and my sisters Lucindy and Sally. Massa Felix Terriell owned me and pappy and mammy but when I's still a chile he done give me to he son, Massa Dalton Terriell.

"My papy was de wild man and he so wild Massa Felix have to keep him locked up at night and in de chains by day to keep him from runnin' off. He had to wear de chains in de field and den he couldn't run fast.

"Massa Dalton growed de tobaccy. He was a good massa and give me de nickel and de dime sometime and I'd buy candy. He have lots of slaves and de cook fix our grub in big old skillets. We allus have de cornbread and de syrup and some meat. I likes possum cooked with sweet 'taters.

"Missy Mary try larn me read and write but I never did care for de book larnin'. Massa wake us 'bout four o'clock with de great iron and hammer and us work long as us could see.

"Massa didn't have to whip us but I seed pappy whip, with de rawhide with nine tails. He got thirty-nine licks and every lick, it brung de blood.

"I seed slaves sold and you has heared cattle bawl when de calves took from de mammy and dat de way de slaves bawls. When massa sell de slave he make 'em wash up and grease de face good and stand up straight and he fatten 'em jus' like you do hawgs to sell. I had de good massa. He was good to black debbils, what he call us niggers. Us could rest when us git to de quarters or go by de big tank and take de bath, and every Saturday night us git de holiday and have banjo and tin pan beatin' and dance. On Christmas massa kilt de big hawg and us fix it jus' like us wants and have big dinner.

"Massa have doctor when us sick. He say us too val'ble. If us sold us brung 'bout $1,000. Old mammy could fix de charm and git us well. She gather bark and make de tea. Most us sickness chill and fever. Sometime a slave git leg broke and massa say he no more 'count and finish him up with de club.

"Massa nearly kilt in de fightin' and he had he doctor write missy to set us free. I had two wives and missy said I couldn't keep but one, so I takes Mary and us starts out for Texas, a-foot. Us most starved to death 'fore us got here and then us have hard time. But dere plenty wild meat and dat what us lived on three, four year. Us had two chillen and den she dies and I marry a half-Indian gal and she died. Us jus' 'greed to live together in dem days, no weddin'. Then I marries Lucie Grant and us have 11 chillen and de preacher calls us man and wife. I's pappy to 17 chillen and I don't know how many grandchillen. Lucie say more'n a hun'erd."

J.W. Terrill

*J.W. Terrill was born in DeSoto Parish, Louisiana, and is about 100 years old. His master was his father. He now lives in Madisonville, Texas.*

"My father took me away from my mother when at age of six weeks old and gave me to my grandmother, who was real old at the time. Jus' befo' she died she gave me back to my father, who was my mammy's master. He was a old batchelor and run saloon and he was white, but my mammy was a Negro. He was mean to me.

"Finally my father let his sister take me and raise me with her chillen. She was good to me, but befo' he let her have me he willed I must wear a bell till I was 21 year old, strapped 'round my shoulders with the bell 'bout three feet from my head in steel frame. That was for punishment for bein' born into the world a son of a white man and my mammy, a Negro slave. I wears this frame with the bell where I couldn't reach the clapper, day and night. I never knowed what it was to lay down in bed and get a good night's sleep till I was 'bout 17 year old, when my father died and my missy took the bell offen me.

"Befo' my father gave me to his sister, I was tied and strapped to a tree and whipped like a beast by my father, till I was unconscious, and then left strapped to a tree all night in cold and rainy weather. My father was very mean. He and he sister brung me to Texas, to North Zulch, when I 'bout 12 year old. He brung my mammy, too, and made her come and be his mistress one night every week. He would have kilt every one of his slaves rather than see us go free, 'specially me and my mammy.

"My missy was purty good to me, when my father wasn't right 'round. But he wouldn't let her give me anything to eat but cornbread and water and little sweat 'taters, and jus' 'nough of that to keep me alive. I was allus hongry. My mammy had a boy called Frank Adds and a girl called Marie Adds, what she give birth to by her cullud husban', but I never got to play with them. Missy worked me on the farm and there was 'bout 100 acres and fifteen slaves to work 'em. The overseer waked us 'bout three in the mornin' and then he worked us jus' long as we could see. If we didn't git 'round fast 'nough, he chain us to a tree at night with nothin' to eat, and nex' day. if we didn't go on the run he hit us 39 licks with a belt what was 'bout three foot long and four inches wide.

"I wore the bell night and day, and my father would chain me to a tree till I nearly died from the cold and bein' so hongry. My father didn't 'lieve in church and my missy 'lieved there a Lord, but I wouldn't have 'lieved her if she try larn me 'bout 'ligion, 'cause my father tell me I wasn't any more than a damn mule. I slep' on a chair and tried to res' till my father died, and then I sang all day, 'cause I knowed I wouldn't be treated so mean. When missy took that bell offen me I thinks I in Heaven 'cause I could lie down and go to sleep. When I did I couldn't wake up for a long time and when I did wake up I'd be scairt to death I'd see my father with his whip and that old bell. I'd jump out of bed and run till I give out, for fear he'd come back and git me.

"I was 'bout 17 year old then and I so happy not to have that bell on me. Missy make us work hard but she have plenty to eat and I could sleep. On Christmas she cook us a real dinner of beef meat.

"Plenty time I listens to the cannon popping till I mos' deaf, and I was messenger boy and spy on the blue bellies. When I'd git back to the Southern sojers I he'ped 'em bury they dead and some what was jus' wounded I he'ped carry home.

"When we heered was was over and we's free, we all jus' jumped up and hollers and dances. Missy, she cries and cries, and tells us we is free and she hopes we starve to death and she'd be glad, 'cause it ruin her to lose us. They was a big bunch of us niggers in town and we stirrin' 'round like bees workin' in and out a hive. We was jus' that way. I went wild and the first year I went north, but I come back 'gain to Texas.

"After 'while I marries a Indian maid. It was nothin' much but Indians 'round and there wasn't much law. I lived with her 'bout two year and then the Indians come and captured her jus' befo' she was to give birth. They kilt her or carried her 'way and lef' me for dead, and I never seed or heered of her since. While I was sick a outlaw, what was Tomas Jafferies, he'ped me git well and then I turns outlaw and follows all signs of Indians, all over the earth. But I never could git word of my wife.

"It mus' be 'bout 15 year after that, I marries Feline Ford, by a preacher. My first weddin' was common weddin' with the Indian maid. I jus' give her deerskin in front of Tomas Jefferies and she my wife."

Allen Thomas

*Allen Thomas, 97, was owned by several ranchers of Jefferson and Orange Counties, Texas, but recalls Moise Broussard of Hamshire the best. Ill health has affected his memory and his story is not coherent. He is a familiar figure on the streets of Beaumont, Texas, a small man clad in none too clean and somewhat ragged clothes, with a tow sack across his shoulders, into which he puts such things as he finds in his wanderings about the city. Rumor has it that Allen is fairly well to do and that his begging attitude is assumed, for reasons of his own.*

"I figgers I's gwine be 97 year old on de fourth of August, I's borned over in Duncan Woods, over in Orange County. My daddy's name was Lockin Thomas. I never see my daddy. He git drown in de river here at Beaumont. My mammy's Hetty Anderson.

"I 'longed to three masters. One John Adam and he was mean. One Stowers, and he was mean but not so mean to me. Den dere Moise Broussard, he was purty mean, but he never beat me. De las' man what finish raise me was Amos Harrison and he purty good man. He wife name Mag and dey lives on Turtle Bayou over in Chambers County. He buy me from Lewis Pinder. He was good. My brudder was Kelly Idonia and I had a sister Lessie Williams. Dey beat her with clubs. I's walk over many a dead person. Dey beat 'em to death.

"Us had tins dishes dem times, master and slaves, too. Dey have wooden paddles what us take de food out de dishes with. De white folks sot at one table and de cullud folks have table to deyself, but 'bout what de white folks has.

"Us have watermilion and sugar cane and milk and butter. Den us have de possum. Us clean him and put him top de house and 'low de frost fall on him. Den us fill him full salt and pepper and put him in de oven. Sometime put sweet 'taters all 'round him. Us have de long, square oven with de lid on it.

"Us wore knitted shirt make on dem looms and dey gives us boots with brass toes on 'em. Me and mammy work on de spinnin' wheel many a night up to one or two o'clock. I used to card de bats.

"Dere plenty hawgs and hosses and dem cattle what am longhorn. Us have plenty meat and raise veg'tables, too.

"I never seed no sojers but I heared de cannons. I disremember when peace am corral'. I come up here to Beaumont when I thank I's a man and I's been here every Gawd's since.

"I see some sperrits, but I see 'em only special times. You see 'em twict a year, 'tween spring and summer and den 'gain 'twixt fall and winter. Sometime dey comes right 'long and den sometime dey jis' standin' still. When you looks at 'em dey looks kinder vagueish. I can allus tell when sperrits 'round. Dey got a queer scent. When you walk 'bout 20 feet, steam gwineter hit you in de face. I can tell dey dere iffen I can't see 'em. Dey look like men. Dey ain't white but dey got a pale look."

Bill and Ellen Thomas

*Bill and Ellen Thomas live in the Old Slave Settlement, 3 miles north of Hondo. Bill is 88 and Ellen is 81. They seem to be happy; their fields are tilled, a horse and a cow graze near the house; a kitchen garden is under way and several broods of baby chicks are in the yard. They were dressed in simple, clean clothes, and Ellen wears a string of nutmegs around her neck, to 'make yer eyes strong.'*

Uncle Bill's Story

"Does you want me to start right at the beginnin'? Well, I'll tell you jes' how I went to this country. I left Falls County where I belonged to the man there that kept the post office. He was named Chamlin. He had lots of land, I reckin about 50 acres. They kep' us in a little house right in their yard. Reckin how old I was when he bought me? Jus' five years old! He give $500 for me, but he bought my mother and my sisters, too. He had to buy me, 'cause my mother, she wouldn't go without me. No, suh, she tol' 'em she wouldn't go if they didn' buy me, too. An' the man he bought us f'om, he wanted to keep me, so he wouldn't take less than $500 for me. Massa Chamblin bought the whole family, 'cept my father. They sold him and we never laid eyes on him again.

"My mother cooked. Massa Chamlin, he always fed us plenty, an' whatever they had, we had. If he cooked sausage, you had it too; if he cooked ham, you got it too; if he cooked lye hominy, you got it; an' if he had puddin', you got some.

"When I was 6 or 7 years old I chopped cotton and I plowed too, and I could lay as straight rows with oxen as any you ever saw.

"The massa whipped me with a dogwood switch, but he never did bring no blood. But it taken 7 men to whip my father.

"I'll tell you how I got away f'om there. Massa bought cotton and carried it to Mexico. He taken his 2 boys with him and we had 3 wagons and I drove one. I had 4 oxen and I had 3 bales of cotton on my wagon; he had 6 oxen and 6 bales of cotton, and the last wagon, it had 10 bales on it and 6 oxen. He had to ship it acrost the Rio Grande. If a Mexican bought it, he come across and took it over hisself. Reckin how much he got for that cotton? He got 60c a pound. Yes'm, he sho' did. Cotton was bringin' that then.

"I was freed over there in Mexico. I was about 14 years old. Massa Chamlin, he stayed over there till the country was free. He didn't believe in that fightin'.

"I cooked in a hotel over there in Mexico. I cooked two years at $1.00 a day.

"When Massa owned me, he always give us good clothes. Our pants was made out of duckin' like wagon sheets, but my mother took some kind of bark and dyed 'em. I think it was blackjack bark. He give us shoes, too. They was half-tan leather brogans."

"I used to play the fiddle for dances when I was young, but not after I joined the church. I played for the white people. Oh, yes'm, the cullud folks had dances, they sho' did dance.

"Yes'm, I saw a ghost onct. One night after I was livin' down here, I was goin' to Sabinal, me and another man, and a great long thing passed right in front of us. It was the blackest thing you ever saw. It was about six feet long. Yes'm, it sho' was a ghost or sumpin; it disappeared, and me lookin' at it. The other fellow that was with me, he seen it, too.

"Yes, they was lots of panthers and bears here. If this ghost was a bear, he sho' was a big 'un. We had a ghost down here on the creek we called the 'Ball Water Hole Ghost.' He was seen lots of times. He used to stay down there, but he ain't been seen lately. My wife, she seen him."

Aunt Ellen's Story

"Yes'm, I seen him walkin' 'long the trail ahead of us. He had on a black hat, like a tall stovepipe hat, and a long black coat, and when we got up close he jes' disappeared. He was a big man, and tall, too. We didn' know which way he went; he jes' seemed to disappear. My oldest daughter saw him too. Lots of folks did. He was always seen down at that water hole somewhere.

"Another time, I was stayin' with Mrs. Reedes. Mr. Reedes was killed and all night long he'd come back and grind coffee and sprinkle it all over us. I was so bad scared I nearly died. Next mornin' there'd be coffee all over the floor. We supposed it was Mr. Reede's ghost. They say if a person was wicked they come back like that. Onct he pulled Mrs. Reedes outta bed and pitched her on the floor, and he would take the dishes out of the shelves and throw 'em down. I couldn't stand it but a night or two and I said I was goin' home. Yes, ma'am, it sho' was a ghost. He sho' did tear up that house every night. Why, they'd be a light shine in that room just as plain as daylight, nearly. They say ghosties will run you, but I never had any to run me."

"I was born in Mississippi. We come to Texas and my mother died, so grandma raised me. I was jes' a baby when we come to Texas. Mr. Harper owned us. I remember the war, but it's so long ago I don't remember much. I remember when John Harper read the free paper to us. He had a big lot of slaves, but

when he read, the free papers they jes' flew out like birds. But I didn't. I was stickin' to my grandmother. She was on crutches and she stayed on at the Harper place.

"After we was free I worked for them a long time. I cooked, washed, ironed, milked the cows. He was pretty good to us, Judge Harper was. I went along with him when he went to war, his wife and chillun did too, and I nursed them, I'd give a young baby shuck tea to break him out with the hives. For chills and fever I give quinine weed. It don't grow here.

"When Judge Harper went up to Hondo my grandma grabbed me and kept me. So I stayed and worked. I was still a young girl, but I plowed, hauled and grubbed. I used to wear 'cotton stripes.' I remember 'em well. It was a homespun cloth. I know how to spin and weave and I could knit a pair of socks in two nights.

"I never did hear much about hard times. I was treated good but I got switched many a time. Oh, yes'm. I've been whipped, but not like some of 'em was. They used to tie some of 'em down. I've heered tell, they shore whopped 'em. They used to be a runaway that got away and went to Mexico now and then, and if they caught him they shore whopped him awful.

"That old piano in there, my daughter bought a long time ago. The varnish is off, but a man tol' us it could be sandpapered and refinished and it would be a beautiful thing. It's about 75 years old."

Lucy Thomas

*Lucy Thomas,86, was born in Harrison Co., Texas, a slave of Dr. William Baldwin. She stayed with her master until 1868. In 1869 she married Anthony Thomas. She now lives with her son at Baldwin Switch, sixteen miles northeast of Marshall, Texas, on part of the land originally owned by the Baldwins.*

"My name am Lucy Baldwin Thomas and I's birthed right here in Harrison County, on the old Baldwin place at Fern Lake. The log cabin where I's birthed sot in a grove of trees right by the lake. The Baldwin place jined the Haggerty and Major Andrews places.

"The best statement I can make of my age am I's 'bout fourteen the last year of Abe Lincoln's war. It was true, 'cause I starts hoein' in the field when I's nine years old and I'd been hoein' a long time.

"They called my papa, Ike. The Baldwins bought him out of Alabama, and mama's name was Nancy and she's birthed in Virginny, and the Baldwins bought her out the New Orleans slave market for $1,100.00. I's heared my gran'ma, Barbara, tell how some Alabama owners drug they niggers with a mule and laid dem face down in a hole and beat dem till they's raw as beefsteak. But her folks wasn't like that and the Baldwins wasn't neither. They was good white folks, and Missy was named May Amelia and then there was Old Marse Doctor William. He was a doctor but he worked a hundred acres land and owned 'bout eighty-five niggers, what lived in log quarters. They had son-of-a-gun beds peg to the walls, and wore bachelor brogan shoes and blue and stripe lowel clothes made on the place, and had lots to eat. My mama say she had a lots better time in slavery than after.

"All hands was up and in the field by daylight and Marse Baldwin allus kep' a fifty gallon barrel whiskey on the place and a demijohn on the front porch all the time for the niggers to git they drink on way to the field. But nobody ever got drunk.

"Marse's brother-in-law, Marse Lewis Brantly, was overseer, but never kicked and beat the niggers. He give us a light breshin' when we needed it. We would go mos' anywhere but had to git a pass first, and had play parties on Saturday night.

"I went to school three months. A Yankee named Old Man Mills run a school and I quit workin' in the field to go. Them days, the Klu Kluxers was runnin' round and I seed big bunches of niggers with they heads tied up, goin' to report the Kluxers to the Progee Marshal.