*Daniel Phillips, Sr., 704 Virginia Street, San Antonio, Texas. Born
1854 at Stringtown, five miles south of San Marcos, Texas. Big framed,
good natured. Never has worn glasses.*
"I was a slave to Dr. Dailey and his son, Dr. Thomas Dailey. They
brought my mother and father from Georgia and I was born in Stringtown
just after they arrived, in 1854. I calls him Mr. Tommy. Dey has a
plantation at Stringtown and a ranch on de Blanco River. We come from
Georgia in wagons.
"Marse Dailey raised cotton and co'n on de plantation. On de ranch dey
ketches wild horses and I herds dem. When I'm on de ranch I has to drive
de wild horses into de pen. De men cotches de wild horses and I has to
drive 'em so's dey won't git wild agin.
"Lots of dem wild horses got colts and I has to brand dem. Marse Dailey
he helps to cotch de wild horses but I has to drive 'em. In de mornin' I
drives dem out and in de evenin' I drives dem back. Dere's sure a lot of
dem wild horses.
"Marse Dailey brings twenty-five slaves from Georgia but he sells some
after we comes to San Marcos. No suh, we niver gits paid. We lives in
log houses built on de side of a hill. De houses has one room. My mother
has a wooden bed with a cotton mattress. My sister Maria was housewoman.
My younger sister married a man named Scott.
"We feeds good. Dere's cornbread and beef. Plenty milk, 'cause Marse
Dailey's got plenty cows. Dere's gardens with peas, cabbage, beans and
beets. We makes de clothes ourself. My father is handy man. He builds a
loom and a spinnin' wheel. No suh, we didn't do no huntin'. Marse Dailey
didn' let us have guns.
"We's treated all right. My uncle is overseer. When de war's over I
didn't know about it. Marse Tommy comes to de ranch when I's herdin' de
wild horses. He says, 'Dan, you'se free now.' I say, 'Wha' dat mean,
Marse Tommy?' He say, 'Dat mean you can live with you mammy and you
pappy, and what you makes you kin keep.'
"And I leaves de wild horses and comes to de plantation. Yas suh, we
goes to church. We walks fo' mile to de church. De w'ite folks sits in
front and de cullud folks sits back by de do'.
"Yassuh, we's glad de slav'ry is over. My mother would go to milk cows
and I was sent to kill a calf. And dere was my mother in de corner of de
fence and she was prayin', 'O, Lawd, set us free!'
[Illustration: _Daniel Phillips_]
"I was too young for de army. My brother was a cook in de Confederate
Army, and de Yankees run dem 60 miles in one night. And my brother is
ridin' one horse and front of him is a pack horse, and he cut de traces
of de pack horse and dat horse run so he didn't see him again. Yassuh,
my brother was 108 years ole. He died two years ago.
"We gits along better after we's free. Often de Yankees comes down to
San Marcos. Dey wants to buy milk.
"One time on de plantation a cullud preacher wants to hold a service. De
marster say 'all right'. De preacher must tell how much he collects. Dat
so de marster fin' out if we's got any money."