I see them in the bed.

That's all I say. The Demon's got him and Master Jim tears out of the

room looking for the Mistress.

Then I hears loud talking and pretty soon the Mistress is screaming

and calling for help, and if old Master Ben hadn't drop in just then

and stop the fight, why, I guess she be beat almost to death, that how

mad the Master was.

Then Master Ben gets mad 'cause his boy Jim ain't got us down in Texas

yet. Then we stay up all the night packing for the trip. Master Jim

takes us, but the Mistress stay at home, and I wonder if Master Jim

beat her again when he gets back.

We rides the wagons all the way, how many days, I dunno. The country

was wild most of the way, and I know now that we come through the same

country where I lives now, only it was to the east. (The trip was

evidently made over the "Texas Road.") And we keeps on riding and

comes to the big river that's all brown and red looking, (Red River)

and the next thing I was sold to Mrs. Vaughn at Bonham, Texas, and

there I stays till after the slaves is free.

The new Mistress was a widow, no children round the place, and she

treat me mighty good. She was good white folks--like old Master Ben,

powerful good.

When the word get to us that the slaves is free, the Mistress says I

is free to go anywheres I want. And I tell her this talk about being

free sounds like foolishment to me--anyway, where can I go? She just

pat me on the shoulder and say I better stay right there with her, and

that's what I do for a long time. Then I hears about how the white

folks down at Dallas pays big money for house girls and there I goes.

That's all I ever do after that--work at the houses till I gets too

old to hobble on these tired old feets and legs, then I just sits

down.

Just sits down and wishes for old Master Ben to come and get me, and

take care of this old woman like he use to do when she is just a

little black child on the plantation in Missouri!

God Bless old Master Ben--he was good white folks!

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

ELIZA EVANS

Age 87

McAlester, Okla.

I sho' remember de days when I was a slave and belonged to de best old

Master what ever was, Mr. John Mixon. We lived in Selma, Dallas

County, Alabama.

My grandma was a refugee from Africa. You know dey was white men who

went slipping 'round and would capture or entice black folks onto

their boats and fetch them over here and sell 'em for slaves. Well,

grandma was a little girl 'bout eight or nine years old and her

parents had sent her out to get wood. Dey was going to have a feast.

Dey was going to roast a baby. Wasn't that awful? Well, they captured

her and put a stick in her mouth. The stick held her mouth wide open

so she wouldn't cry out. When she got to de boat she was so tired out

she didn't do nothing.

They was a lot of more colored folks on de boat. It took about four

months to get across on de boat and Mr. John Mixon met the boat and

bought her. I think he gave five hundred dollars for her. She was

named Gigi, but Master John called her Gracie. She was so good and

they thought so much of her dat they gave her a grand wedding when she

was married. Master John told her he'd never sell none of her chillun.

He kept dat promise and he never did sell any of her grandchillun

either. He thought it was wrong to separate famblys. She was one

hundred and three years old when she died. I guess her mind got kind

of feeble 'cause she wandered off and fell into a mill race and was

drowned.

Master John Mixon had two big plantations. I believe he owned about

four hundred slaves, chillun and all. He allowed us to have church one

time a month with de white folks and we had prayer meeting every

Sunday. Sometimes when de men would do something like being sassy or

lazy and dey knowed dey was gonna be whipped, dey'd slip off and hide

in de woods. When dey'd slip back to get some food dey would all pray

for 'em dat Master wouldn't have 'em whipped too hard, and for fear

the Patroller would hear 'em they'd put their faces down in a dinner

pot. I'd sit out and watch for the Patroller. He was a white man who

was appointed to catch runaway niggers. We all knew him. His name was

Howard Campbell. He had a big pack of dogs. The lead hound was named

Venus. There was five or six in the pack, and they was vicious too.

My father was a carriage driver and he allus took the family to

church. My mother went along to take care of the little chilluns.

She'd take me too. They was Methodist and after they would take the

sacrament we would allus go up and take it. The niggers could use the

whitefolks church in the afternoon.

De Big House was a grand place. It was a two-story house made out of

logs dat had been peeled and smoothed off. There was five big rooms

and a big open hall wid a wide front porch clean across de front. De

porch had big posts and pretty banisters. It was painted white and had

green shutters on de windows. De kitchen was back of de Big House.

De slaves quarters was about a quarter of a mile from de Big House.

Their houses was made of logs and the cracks was daubed with mud. They

would have two rooms. Our bedsteads was made of poplar wood and we

kept them scrubbed white with sand. We used roped woven together for

slats. Our mattresses were made of cotton, grass, or even shucks. My

mother had a feather bed. The chairs was made from cedar with split

white oak bottoms.

Each family kept their own home and cooked and served their own meals.

We used wooden trays and wooden spoons. Once a week all the cullud

chillun went to the Big House to eat dinner. The table was out in de

yard. My nickname was "Speck". I didn't like to eat bread and milk

when I went up there and I'd just sit there. Finally they'd let me go

in de house and my mother would feed me. She was the house woman and

my Auntie was cook. I don't know why they had us up there unless it

was so they could laugh at us.

None of old Master's young niggers never did much work. He say he want

'em to grow up strong. He gave us lots to eat. He had a store of

bacon, milk, bread, beans and molasses. In summer we had vegetables.

My mother could make awful good corn pone. She would take meal and put

salt in it and pour boiling water over it and make into pones. She'd

wrap these pones in wet cabbage or collard leaves and roll dem into

hot ashes and bake dem. They sho' was good. We'd have possum and coon

and fish too.

The boys never wore no britches in de summer time. Boys fifteen years

old would wear long shirts with no sleeves and they went barefooted.

De girls dressed in shimmys. They was a sort of dress with two seams

in it and no sleeves.

Old Master had his slaves to get up about five o'clock. Dey did an

ordinary day's work. He never whipped them unless they was lazy or

sassy or had a fight. Sometimes his slaves would run away but they

allus come back. We didn't have no truck with railroaders 'cause we

like our home.

A woman cussed my mother and it made her mad and they had a fight. Old

Master had them both whipped. My mother got ten licks and de other

woman got twenty-five. Old Mistress sho' was mad 'cause mother got

whipped. Said he wouldn't have done it if she had known it. Old

Mistress taught mother how to read and write and mother taught my

father. I went to school jest one day so I can't read and write now.

Weddings was big days. We'd have big dinners and dances once in a

while [HW: and] when somebody died they'd hold a wake. They'd sit up

all night and sing and pray and talk. At midnight they'd serve

sandwiches and coffee. Sometimes we'd all get together and play ring

plays and dance.

Once the Yankee soldiers come. I was big enough to tote pails and

piggins then. These soldiers made us chillun tote water to fill their

canteens and water their horses. We toted the water on our heads.

Another time we heard the Yankee's was coming and old Master had about

fifteen hundred pounds of meat. They was hauling it off to bury it and

hide it when the Yankees caught them. The soldiers ate and wasted

every bit of that good meat. We didn't like them a bit.

One time some Yankee soldiers stopped and started talking to me--they

asked me what my name was. "I say Liza," and they say, "Liza who?" I

thought a minute and I shook my head, "Jest Liza, I ain't got no other

name."

He say, "Who live up yonder in dat Big House?" I say, "Mr. John

Mixon." He say, "You are Liza Mixon." He say, "Do anybody ever call

you nigger?" And I say, "Yes Sir." He say, "Next time anybody call you

nigger you tell 'em dat you is a Negro and your name is Miss Liza

Mixon." The more I thought of that the more I liked it and I made up

my mind to do jest what he told me to.

My job was minding the calves back while the cows was being milked.

One evening I was minding the calves and old Master come along. He

say, "What you doin' nigger?" I say real pert like, "I ain't no

nigger, I'se a Negro and I'm Miss Liza Mixon." Old Master sho' was

surprised and he picks up a switch and starts at me.

Law, but I was skeered! I hadn't never had no whipping so I run fast

as I can to Grandma Gracie. I hid behind her and she say, "What's the

matter of you child?" And I say, "Master John gwine whip me." And she

say, "What you done?" And I say, "Nothing." She say she know better

and 'bout that time Master John got there. He say, "Gracie, dat little

nigger sassed me." She say, "Lawsie child, what does ail you?" I told

them what the Yankee soldier told me to say and Grandma Gracie took my

dress and lift it over my head and pins my hands inside, and Lawsie,

how she whipped me and I dassent holler loud either. I jest said dat

[HW: to] de wrong person. [TR: "didn't I?" at end was crossed out.]

I'se getting old now and can't work no more. I jest sits here and

thinks about old times. They was good times. We didn't want to be

freed. We hated the Yankee soldiers. Abe Lincoln was a good man

though, wasn't he? I tries to be a good Christian 'cause I wants to go

to Heaven when I die.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

LIZZIE FARMER

Age 80 years

McAlester, Okla.

"Cousin Lizzie!"

"What."

"I'se seventy years old."

And I say, "Whut's you telling me for. I ain't got nothing to do with

your age!"

I knowed I was one year older than she was and it sorta riled me for

her to talk about it. I never would tell folks my age for I knowed

white folks didn't want no old woman working for 'em and I just

wouldn't tell 'em how old I really was. Dat was nine years ago and I

guess I'm seventy five now. I can't work much now.

I was born four years before de War.--"The one what set the cullud

folks free." We lived on a big plantation in Texas. Old Master's name

was John Booker and he was good to us all. My mammy died just at de

close of de War and de young mistress took me and kept me and I growed

up with her chillun. I thought I was quality sure nuff and I never

would go to school 'cause I couldn't go 'long to de same school with

de white chillun. Young mistress taught me how to knit, spin, weave,

crochet, sew and embroider. I couldn't recollect my age and young

Mistress told me to say, "I'se born de second year of de War dat set

de cullud folks free," and the only time she ever git mad at me was

when I forgot to say it jest as she told me to. She take hold of me

and shook me. I recollects all it, all de time.

Young mistress' name was Elizabeth Booker McNew. I'se named after her.

She finally gave me to my aunt when I was a big girl and I never lived

wid white folks any more. I never saw my pappy till I was grown.

In the cullud quarters, we cooked on a fireplace in big iron pots. Our

bread was baked in iron skillets with lids and we would set the

skillet on de fire and put coals of fire on de lid. Bread was mighty

good cooked like dat. We made our own candles. We had a candle mold

and we would put a string in the center of the mold and pour melted

tallow in it and let it harden. We would make eight at one time.

Quality folks had brass lamps.

When we went to cook our vegetables we would put a big piece of hog

jowl in de pot. We'd put in a lot of snap beans and when dey was about

half done we'd put in a mess of cabbage and when it was about half

done we'd put in some squash and when it was about half done we'd put

in some okra. Then when it was done we would take it out a layer at a

time. Go 'way! It makes me hungry to talk about it.

When we cooked possum dat was a feast. We would skin him and dress him

and put him on top de house and let him freeze for two days or nights.

Then we'd boil him with red pepper, and take him out and put him in a

pan and slice sweet 'taters and put round him and roast him. My, dat

was good eating.

It was a long time after de War 'fore all de niggers knowed dey was

really free. My grandpappy was Master Booker's overseer. He wouldn't

have a white man over his niggers. I saw grandpappy whip one man with

a long whip. Master Booker was good and wouldn't whip 'em less'n he

had to. De niggers dassent leave de farm without a pass for fear of de

Ku Kluxers and patrolers.

We would have dances and play parties and have sho' nuff good times.

We had "ring plays." We'd all catch hands and march round, den we'd

drop all hands 'cept our pardners and we'd swing round and sing:

"You steal my pardner, and I steal yours,

Miss Mary Jane.

My true lover's gone away,

Miss Mary Jane!

"Steal all round and don't slight none,

Miss Mary Jane.

He's lost out but I'se got one,

Miss Mary Jane!"

We always played at log rollin's an' cotton pickin's.

Sometimes we would have a wedding and my what a good time we'd have.

Old Master's daughter, Miss Janie, got married and it took us more'n

three weeks to get ready for it. De house was cleaned from top to

bottom and us chillun had to run errands. Seemed like we was allers

under foot, at least dat was what mammy said. I never will fergit all

the good things they cooked up. Rows of pies and cakes, baked chicken

and ham, my, it makes my mouth water jest thinking of it. After de

wedding and de feast de white folks danced all night and us cullud

folks ate all night.

When one of de cullud folks die we would allers hold a "wake." We

would set up with de corpse and sing and pray and at midnight we'd all

eat and den we'd sing and pray some more.

In de evening after work was done we'd sit round and de older folks

would sing songs. One of de favorites was:

"Miss Ca'line gal,

Yes Ma'am

Did you see dem buzzards?

Yes Ma'am,

Did you see dem floppin',

How did ye' like 'em?

Mighty well.

"Miss Ca'line gal,

Yes Ma'am,

Did you see dem buzzards?

Yes Ma'am,

Did you see dem sailin',

Yes Ma'am.

How did you like 'em?

Mighty well."

I've heered folks talk about conjures and hoodoo charms. I have a hoss

shoe over de door dat will bring good luck. I sho' do believe certain

things bring bad luck. I hate to hear a scrinch (screech) owl holler

at night. Whenever a scrinch owl git in dat tree at night and start to

holler I gits me a stick and I say, "Confound you, I'll make yet set

up dar and say 'Umph huh'," so I goes out and time I gits dar he is

gone. If you tie a knot in de corner of de bed sheet he will leave, or

turn your hat wrong side out too. Dey's all good and will make a

scrinch owl leave every time.

I believes in dreams and visions too. I dreamed one night dat I had

tall palings all 'round my house and I went out in de yard and dere

was a big black hoss and I say, "How come you is in my yard? I'll jest

put you out jest lak you got in." I opened de gate but he wouldn't go

out and finally he run in de door and through the house and went

towards de East. Right after dat my son died. I saw dat hoss again de

other night. A black hoss allus means death. Seeing it de other night

might mean I'se gwineter die.

I know one time a woman named May Runnels wanted to go to church about

a mile away and her old man wouldn't go with her. It made her mad and

she say, "I'll be dammed if I don't go." She had to go through a grave

yard and when she was about half way across it a icy hand jest slap

her and her mouth was twisted way 'round fer about three months. Dat

was a lesson to her fer cussing.

One time there was a nigger what belonged on a adjoining farm to

Master John Bookers and dey told us dis story:

"Dis nigger went down to de spring and found a terrapin and he say,

'What brung you here?' Jest imagine how he felt when it say to him,

'Teeth and tongue brung me here, and teeth and tongue will bring you

here.' He run to de house and told his Master dat he found a terrapin

dat could talk. Dey went back and he asked de terrapin what bring him

here and it wouldn't say a word. Old Master didn't like it 'cause he

went down there jest to see a common ordinary terrapin and he told de

nigger he was going to git into trouble fer telling him a lie. Next

day the nigger seen de terrapin and it say de same thing again. Soon

after dat dis nigger was lynched right close to de place he saw de

terrapin."

Master John Booker had two niggers what had a habit of slipping across

de river and killing old Master's hogs and hiding de meat in de loft

of de house. Master had a big blue hog and one day he missed him and

he sent Ned to look fer him. Ned knowed all de time dat he had killed

it and had it hid in his loft. He hunted and called "Pig-ooie, Pig."

Somebody done stole old Master's big blue hog. Dey couldn't find it

but old Master thought Ned knowed something 'bout it. One night he

found out Ned was gonna kill another hog and had asked John to go with

him. He borrowed John's clothes and blacked his face and met Ned at de

river. Soon dey find a nice big one and Ned say, "John, I'll drive him

round and you kill him." So he drove him past old Master but he didn't

want to kill his own hog so he made lak he'd like to kill him but he

missed him. Finally Ned got tired and said. "I'll kill him, you drive

him by me." So Master John drove him by him and Ned knock de hog on de

head and cut his throat and dey load him on de canoe. When dey was

nearly 'cross de river Old Master dip up some water and wash his face

a little, then he look at Ned and he say, "Ned you look sick, I

believe you've got lepersy." Ned row on little more and he jump in de

river and Master had a hard time finding him again. He had the

overseer whip Ned for that.

I think Lincoln was a wonderful man. Everybody was sorry when he died,

but I never heerd of Jeff Davis.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

10-19-38

1,876-words

DELLA FOUNTAIN

Age 69 years

McAlester, Oklahoma

I was born after de War of de Rebellion but I 'member lots o' things

dat my parents told me 'bout slavery.

My grandmother was captured in Africa. Traders come dere in a big boat

and dey had all sorts of purty gew-gaws--red handkerchiefs, dress

goods, beads, bells, and trinkets in bright colors. Dey would pull up

at de shore and entice de colored folks onto de boat to see de purty

things. Befo' de darkies realized it dey would be out from shore.

Dat's de way she was captured. Fifteen to twenty-five would pay dem

for de trip as dey all brought good prices.

I was born and raised in Louisiana, near Winfield. My mother's Master

was John Rogers and his wife was Miss Millie. Dey was awful good to

deir slaves and he never whupped his grown niggers.

I 'member when I was a child dat we didn't have hardly anything to

keep house wid, but we got along purty well I guess. Our furniture was

home-made and we cooked on de fireplace.

We saved all our oak-wood ashes, and would put a barrel on a slanting

scaffold and put sticks and shucks in de bottom of de barrel and den

fill it wid de ashes. We'd pour water in it and let it drip. Dese

drippings made pure lye. We used dis wid cracklings and meat scraps to

make our soap.

Father took a good-sized pine long and split it open, planed it down

smooth and bored holes in de bottom and drove pegs in dem for legs;

dis was our battling bench. We'd spread our wet clothes on dis and

rub soap on 'em and take a paddle and beat de dirt out. We got 'em

clean but had to be careful not to wear 'em out wid de paddle.

We had no tubs either, so father took a hollow log and split it open

and put partitions in it. He bored a hole in each section and drove a

peg in it. He next cut two forked poles and drove 'em in de ground and

rested de ends of de hollow log in dese forks. We'd fill de log trough

wid water and rinse our clothes. We could pull out de pegs and let de

water out. We had no brooms either, so we made brush brooms to sweep

our floors.

Dere was lots of wild game near our home. I 'member father and two

more men going out and killing six deer in jest a little while. Dey

was plentiful, and so was squirrels, coon, possums and quail. Dere was

lots of bears, too. We'd be in de field working and hear de dogs, and

father and de boys would go to 'em and maybe dey'd have a bear. We

liked bear meat. It was dark, but awful good and sweet.

De grown folks used to have big times at log-rollings, corn-shuckings

and quiltings. Dey'd have a big supper and a big dance at night. Us

children would play ring plays, play with home-made rag dolls, or we'd

take big leaves and pin 'em together wid thorns and make hats and

dresses. We'd ride saplings, too. All of us would pull a sapling down

and one would climb up in it near de top and git a good hold on it,

and dey would turn it loose. It took a purty good holding to stay wid

it, I can tell you.

All de ladies rode horseback, and dey rode side-saddles. I had a purty

side-saddle when I growed up. De saddle seat was flowered plush. I had

a purty riding habit, too. De skirt was so long dat it almost touched

de ground.

We spun and wove all our clothes. I had to spin three broaches ever

night before bedtime. Mother would take bark and make dye to give us

different colored dresses.

Red oak and sweet gum made purple. Bois d'arc made yellow or orange.

Walnut made a purty brown. We knitted our socks and stockings, too.

We celebrated Christmas by having a big dance and egg-nog for ever'

body.

During slavery young colored boys and girls didn't do much work but

just growed up, care-free and happy. De first work boys done was to

learn to hitch up de team to Master's carriage and take de young folks

for a drive.

My older brothers and sisters told me lots of things dey done during

slave days. My brother Joe felt mighty big after freedom and strutted

about. One day he took his younger brother, Ol wid him to where father

was building a house. Dey played 'bout de house and come up to where a

white man and father was talking. De white man was rolling a little

ball of mud in his hands and he just pitched it over on Ol's foot. It

didn't hurt him a mite, but Joe bridled up and he started to git

smart, and father told him he'd break his neck if he didn't go on home

and keep his mouth shet. Father finally had to whup Joe to make him

know he was black. He give father and mother lots of concern, for dey

was afraid the Ku Kluxers would git him. One day he was playing wid a

axe and chopped off brother Ol's finger. Mother told him she was going

to kill him when she caught him. He took to de woods. His three

sisters and two neighbor girls run him nearly all day but couldn't

catch him. Late in de evening, he come up to a white neighbor's house

and she told him to go in and git under de bed and dey couldn't find

him. Curtains come down to de floor and as he was tired he decided to

risk it. He hadn't much more dan got hid when he heard de girls

coming. He heard de woman say, "He's under de bed." He knowed he was

caught, and he put up a fight, but dey took him to mother. He got a

whupping, but he was shocked dat mother didn't kill him like she said

she was. He didn't mind de whupping. He growed up to be a good man,

and was de apple of my mother's eye.

Father knowed a man that stole his Master's horse out and rode him to

a dance. For some reason de horse died. De poor man knowed he was up

against it, and he let in to begging de men to help him git de horse

on his back so he could put him back in his stable and his Master

would think he died dere. Poor fellow, he really did think he could

tote dat horse on his back. He couldn't git anybody to help him, so he

went to the woods. He was shot by a patroller 'cause he wouldn't

surrender. Dey captured him but he died.

Paul Castleberry was a white preacher. De colored would go to church

de same as de whites. He give de colored instructions on obeying

Masters. He say, "while your Master is going f'om pillar to post,

looking after your intrusts, you is always doing some devilment." I

'spect dat was jest about de truth.

My sister played wid Miss Millie's little girl, Mollie. De big house

was on a high hill and at de foot of de hill. Nearly a half-mile away

was a big creek wid a big wooden bridge across it. Soldiers come by

ever' few days, and you could hear deir horses when dey struck de

bridge. Sister and Mollie would run upstairs and look down de hill,

and if it was Confederate soldiers dey would run back and tell Miss

Millie and dey would start putting out de best food dey had. If dey

saw Yankee soldiers, dey would run down and tell 'em and dey'd start

hiding things.

De Yankees come through dere and took ever' body's horses. Lots of

people took deir horses and cows and hid 'em in some low place in de

deep wood.

Miss Millie had a young horse and she had 'em take him to de wheat

field and hide him. De wheat was as high as he was. De Yankees come

by, and a man had stopped dere just before dey come. He was riding an

old horse, and he was wearing a long linen-duster--a duster was a long

coat dat was worn over de suit to protect it from de dust.

Dis smart-aleck hid behind de house and as de soldiers rode up he shot

at 'em. Dey started shooting at him and he started running, and his

coat was sticking straight out behind him. De soldiers surely wasn't

trying to hit him, but dey sure did scare him plenty. Miss Millie was

certain dey was going to find her horse but dey didn't.

Master John Rogers was good to all his slaves, and they all loved him

and would a'died for him. One day he was sitting in his yard and

Mollie come running down stairs and told him de Yankees was coming. He

never say nothing, but kept sitting dere. Dat morning he had a big

sack of money and he give it to my mother to hide for him. She ripped

her mattress, and put it in de middle of it and sewed it up. She den

made up de bed and put de covers on it. De Yankees searched de house

and took de jewelry and silverware and old Master's gold mug, but dey

didn't find his money.

My parents lived close to de old plantation dat they lived on when dey

was slaves. De big house was still dere, but it was sure dilapidated.

Ever'body was poor after de War, whites and blacks alike. I really

think de colored was de best off, for they knowed all 'bout hardships

and hard work and de white folks didn't.

At first some of 'em was too proud to do drudgery work, but most of

'em went right to work and build up deir homes again. Food, clothes,

and in fact everything needed, was scarce.

Mother always say, "If you visit on New Years, you'll visit all de

year." We always had black-eyed peas and hog jowl for New Year's

dinner, for it brought good luck.

The Nineteenth of June was Emancipation Day, and we always had a big

picnic and speeches.

I knowed one woman who was a conjur woman. Lots of people went to her

to git her to break a evil spell dat some one had over them. She'd

brew a tea from herbs and give to 'em to drink, and it always cured

'em.

I've seen people use all kinds o' roots and herbs for medicine, and I

also seen 'em use all kind of things for cures. I've knowed 'em to put

wood lice in a bag and tie 'em 'round a baby's neck so it'd teeth

easy.

Black-haw root, sour dock, bear grass, grape root, bull nettle,

sweet-gum bark and red-oak bark boiled separately and mixed, makes a

good blood medicine.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

NANCY GARDNER

Age 79 yrs.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Well, to tell you de truth I don't know my age, but I was born in

1858, in Franklin, Tennessee. Now, you can figger for yourself and

tell how old I is. I is de daughter of Prophet and Callie Isaiah, and

dey was natives of Tennessee. Dere was three of us children, two boys

and myself. I'm de only girl. My brothers names was Prophet and Billie

Isaiah. I don't 'member much about dem as we was separated when I was

seven years old. I'll never forget when me, my ma and my auntie had to

leave my pa and brothers. It is jest as clear in my mind now as it was

den, and dat's been about seventy years ago.

Oh God! I tell you it was awful dat day when old Jeff Davis had a

bunch of us sent to Memphis to be sold. I can see old Major Clifton

now. He was a big nigger trader you know. Well, dey took us on up dere

to Memphis and we was sold jest like cattle. Dey sold me and ma

together and dey sold pa and de boys together. Dey was sent to

Mississippi and we was sent to Alabama. My pa, O how my ma was grieved

to death about him! She didn't live long after dat. She didn't live

long enough to be set free. Poor ma, she died a slave, but she is

saved though. I know she is, and I'll be wid her some day.

It was thirty years before my pa knew if we was still living. Finally

in some way he heard dat I was still alive, and he began writing me.

Course I was grown and married den and me and my husband had moved to

Missouri. Well, my pa started out to see me and on his way he was

drowned in de Missouri River, and I never saw him alive after we was

sold in Memphis.

I can't tell you much 'bout work during de slave days 'cause you see I

was jest a baby you might say when de War broke out. I do remember

our Master's name though, it was Dr. Perkins, and he was a good

Master. Ma and pa sure hated to have to leave him, he was so good to

dem. He was a rich man, and had a big fine house and thousands of

acres of land. He was good to his niggers too. We had a good house

too, better dan some of dese houses I see folks living in now. Course

Dr. Perkins niggers had to work, but dey didn't mind 'cause he would

let dem have little patches of dey own such as 'tatoes, corn, cotton

and garden. Jest a little, you know. He couldn't let dem have much,

there was so many on Dr. Perkins plantation.

I don't remember seeing anybody sick in slavery time. You see I was

jest a kid and dere's a lot of things I can't remember.

I am a Christian. I jined de church nigh on seventy years ago and when

I say dat, I don't mean I jest jined de church. I mean I gave myself

up to de Heavenly Father, and I've been gwine straight down de line

for Him ever since. You know in dem days, we didn't get religion like

young folks do now. Young folks today jest find de church and den call

theyselves Christians, but they aint.

I remember jest as well when I was converted. One day I was thinking

'bout a sermon de preacher had preached and a voice spoke to me and

said, "De Holy Ghost is over your head. Accept it!" Right den I got

down on my knees and prayed to God dat I might understand dat voice,

and God Almighty in a vision told me dat I should find de church. I

could hardly wait for de next service so I could find it, and when I

was in de water getting my baptisement, dat same voice spoke and said,

"Now you have accepted don't turn back 'cause I will be wid you

always!" O you don't know nothing 'bout dat kind of religion!

I 'member one night shortly after I jined de church I was laying in

bed and dere was a vine tied 'round my waist and dat vine extended

into de elements. O my God! I can see it now! I looked up dat vine

and away in de elements I could see my Divine Master and he spoke to

me and said, "When you get in trouble shake dis vine; I'm your Master

and I will hear your cry."

I knowed old Jeff Davis good. Why I was jest as close to him as I am

to dat table. I've talked wid him too. I reckon I _do_ know dat

scoundrel! Why, he didn't want de niggers to be free! He was known as

a mean old rascal all over de South.

Abraham Lincoln? Now you is talking 'bout de niggers friend! Why dat

was de best man God ever let tramp de earth! Everybody was mighty sad

when poor old Abraham was 'sassinated, 'cause he did a mighty good

deed for de colored race before he left dis world.

I wasn't here long during slavery, but I saw enough of it to know it

was mighty hard going for most of de niggers den, and young folks

wouldn't stand for dat kind of treatment now. I know most of the young

folks would be killed, but they jest wouldn't stand for it. I would

hate to have to go through wid my little share of it again.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

OCTAVIA GEORGE

Age 85 yrs.

Oklahoma City, Okla.

I was born in Mansieur, Louisiana, 1852, Avoir Parish. I am the

daughter of Alfred and Clementine Joseph. I don't know much about my

grandparents other than my mother told me my grandfather's name was

Fransuai, and was one time a king in Africa.

Most of the slaves lived in log cabins, and the beds were home-made.

The mattresses were made out of moss gathered from trees, and we used

to have lots of fun gathering that moss to make those mattresses.

My job was taking care of the white children up at the Big House (that

is what they called the house where our master lived), and I also had

to feed the little Negro children. I remember quite well how those

poor little children used to have to eat. They were fed in boxes and

troughs, under the house. They were fed corn meal mush and beans. When

this was poured into their box they would gather around it the same as

we see pigs, horses and cattle gather around troughs today.

We were never given any money, but were able to get a little money

this way: our Master would let us have two or three acres of land each

year to plant for ourselves, and we could have what we raised on it.

We could not allow our work on these two or three acres to interfere

with Master's work, but we had to work our little crops on Sundays.

Now remind you, all the Negroes didn't get these two or three acres,

only good masters allowed their slaves to have a little crop of their

own. We would take the money from our little crops and buy a few

clothes and something for Christmas. The men would save enough money

out of the crops to buy their Christmas whiskey. It was all right for

the slaves to get drunk on Christmas and New Years Day; no one was

whipped for getting drunk on those days. We were allowed to have a

garden and from this we gathered vegetables to eat; on Sundays we

could have duck, fish, and pork.

We didn't know anything about any clothes other than cotton;

everything we wore was made of cotton, except our shoes, they were

made from pieces of leather cut out of a raw cowhide.

Our Master and Mistress was good, they let us go to church with them,

have our little two- or three-acre crops and any other thing that the

good masters would let their slaves do. They lived in a big fine house

and had a fine barn. Their barn was much better than the house we

lived in. Master Depriest (our master) was a Frenchman, and had eight

or nine children, and they were sure mean. They would fight us, but we

were not allowed to fight our little Master or Mistress as we had to

call them.

The overseer on Master's plantation was a mean old fellow, he carried

his gun all the time and would ride a big fine horse and go from one

bunch of slaves to the other. Some poor white folks lived close to us.

They could not own slaves and they had to work for the rich plantation

owners. I believe that those poor white folk are to blame for the

Negroes stealing because they would get the Negroes to steal their

master's corn, hogs, chickens and many other things and sell it to

them for practically nothing.

We had to work plenty hard, because our Master had a large plantation.

Don't know just how many acres it was, but we had to be up at 5

o'clock in the morning and would work until dark than we would have to

go home and do our night work, that is cook, milk, and feed the stock.

The slaves were punished for stealing, running off, not doing what

their master told them and for talking back to their master. If any of

these rules were disobeyed their feet and hands were chained together

and they were put across a log or a barrel and whipped until the blood

came from them.

There were no jails; the white man was the slaves' jail. If whipping

didn't settle the crime the Negro committed--the next thing would be

to hang him or burn him at stake.

I've seen them sell slaves. The whites would auction them off just as

we do cattle and horses today. The big fine healthy slaves were worth

more than those that were not quite so good. I have seen men sold from

their wives and I thought that was such a crime. I knew that God would

settle thing someday.

Slaves would run away but most of the time they were caught. The

Master would put blood hounds on their trail, and sometimes the slave

would kill the blood hound and make his escape. If a slave once tried

to run away and was caught, he would be whipped almost to death, and

from then on if he was sent any place they would chain their meanest

blood hound to him.

Funerals were very simple for slaves, they could not carry the body to

the church they would just take it to the grave yard and bury it. They

were not even allowed to sing a song at the cemetery. Old Mistress

used to tell us ghost stories after funerals and they would nearly

scare me to death. She would tell of seeing men with no head, and see

cattle that would suddenly turn to cats, and she made us believe if a

fire was close to a cemetery it was coming from a ghost.

I used to hear quite a bit about voodoo, but that some thing I never

believed in, therefore, I didn't pay any attention to it.

When a slave was sick, the master would get a good doctor for him if

he was a good slave, but if he wasn't considered a good slave he would

be given cheap medical care. Some of the doctors would not go to the

cabin where the slaves were, and the slave would have to be carried on

his bed to his master's back porch and the doctor would see him there.

When the news came that we were free, all of us were hid on the

Mississippi River. We had been there for several days, and we had to

catch fish with our hands and roast them for food. I remember quite

well when old Master came down to there and hollered, Come on out

niggers; you are free now and you can do as you please! We all went to

the Big House and there we found old Miss crying and talking about how

she hated to lose her good niggers.

Abraham Lincoln! Why we mourned three months for that man when he

died! I wouldn't miss a morning getting my black arm band and placing

it on in remembrance of Abraham, who was the best friend the Negroes

ever had. Now old Jeff Davis, I didn't care a thing about him. He was

a Democrat and none of them mean anything to the Negro. And if these

young Negroes don't quit messing with the democratic bunch they are

going to be right back where we started from. If they only knew as I

know they would struggle to keep such from happening, because although

I had a good master I wouldn't want to go through it again.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

MARY GRAYSON

Age 83 yrs.

Tulsa, Oklahoma

I am what we colored people call a "native." That means that I didn't

come into the Indian country from somewhere in the Old South, after

the War, like so many negroes did, but I was born here in the old

Creek Nation, and my master was a Creek Indian. That was eighty three

years ago, so I am told.

My mammy belonged to white people back in Alabama when she was

born--down in the southern part I think, for she told me that after

she was a sizeable girl her white people moved into the eastern part

of Alabama where there was a lot of Creeks. Some of them Creeks was

mixed up with the whites, and some of the big men in the Creeks who

come to talk to her master was almost white, it looked like. "My white

folks moved around a lot when I was a little girl", she told me.

When mammy was about 10 or 13 years old some of the Creeks begun to

come out to the Territory in little bunches. They wasn't the ones who

was taken out here by the soldiers and contractor men--they come on

ahead by themselves and most of them had plenty of money, too. A Creek

come to my mammy's master and bought her to bring out here, but she

heard she was being sold and run off into the woods. There was an old

clay pit, dug way back into a high bank, where the slaves had been

getting clay to mix with hog hair scrapings to make chinking for the

big log houses that they built for the master and the cabins they made

for themselves. Well, my mammy run and hid way back in that old clay

pit, and it was way after dark before the master and the other man

found her.

The Creek man that bought her was a kind sort of a man, mammy said,

and wouldn't let the master punish her. He took her away and was kind

to her, but he decided she was too young to breed and he sold her to

another Creek who had several slaves already, and he brought her out

to the Territory.

The McIntosh men was the leaders in the bunch that come out at that

time, and one of the bunch, named Jim Perryman, bought my mammy and

married her to one of his "boys", but after he waited a while and she

didn't have a baby he decided she was no good breeder and he sold her

to Mose Perryman.

Mose Perryman was my master, and he was a cousin to Legus Perryman,

who was a big man in the Tribe. He was a lot younger than Mose, and

laughed at Mose for buying my mammy, but he got fooled, because my

mammy got married to Mose's slave boy Jacob, the way the slaves was

married them days, and went ahead and had ten children for Mr. Mose.

Mose Perryman owned my pappy and his older brother, Hector, and one of

the McIntosh men, Oona, I think his name was, owned my pappy's brother

William. I can remember when I first heard about there was going to be

a war. The older children would talk about it, but they didn't say it

was a war all over the country. They would talk about a war going to

be "back in Alabama", and I guess they had heard the Creeks talking

about it that way.

When I was born we lived in the Choska bottoms, and Mr. Mose Perryman

had a lot of land broke in all up and down the Arkansas river along

there. After the War, when I had got to be a young woman, there was

quite a settlement grew up at Choska (pronounced Choe-skey) right

across the river east of where Haskell now is, but when I was a child

before the War all the whole bottoms was marshy kind of wilderness

except where farms had been cleared out. The land was very rich, and

the Creeks who got to settle there were lucky. They always had big

crops. All west of us was high ground, toward Gibson station and Fort

Gibson, and the land was sandy. Some of the McIntoshes lived over that

way, and my Uncle William belonged to one of them.

We slaves didn't have a hard time at all before the War. I have had

people who were slaves of white folks back in the old states tell me

that they had to work awfully hard and their masters were cruel to

them sometimes, but all the Negroes I knew who belonged to Creeks

always had plenty of clothes and lots to eat and we all lived in good

log cabins we built. We worked the farm and tended to the horses and

cattle and hogs, and some of the older women worked around the owner's

house, but each Negro family looked after a part of the fields and

worked the crops like they belonged to us.

When I first heard talk about the War the slaves were allowed to go

and see one another sometimes and often they were sent on errands

several miles with a wagon or on a horse, but pretty soon we were all

kept at home, and nobody was allowed to come around and talk to us.

But we heard what was going on.

The McIntosh men got nearly everybody to side with them about the War,

but we Negroes got word somehow that the Cherokees over back of Ft.

Gibson was not going to be in the War, and that there were some Union

people over there who would help slaves to get away, but we children

didn't know anything about what we heard our parents whispering about,

and they would stop if they heard us listening. Most of the Creeks who

lived in our part of the country, between the Arkansas and the

Verdigris, and some even south of the Arkansas, belonged to the Lower

Creeks and sided with the South, but down below us along the Canadian

River they were Upper Creeks and there was a good deal of talk about

them going with the North. Some of the Negroes tried to get away and

go down to them, but I don't know of any from our neighborhood that

went to them.

Some Upper Creeks came up into the Choska bottoms talking around among

the folks there about siding with the North. They were talking, they

said, for old man Gouge, who was a big man among the Upper Creeks. His

Indian name was Opoeth-le-ya-hola, and he got away into Kansas with a

big bunch of Creeks and Seminoles during the War.

Before that time, I remember one night my uncle William brought

another Negro man to our cabin and talked a long time with my pappy,

but pretty soon some of the Perryman Negroes told them that Mr. Mose

was coming down and they went off into the woods to talk. But Mr. Mose

didn't come down. When pappy came back Mammy cried quite a while, and

we children could hear them arguing late at night. Then my uncle

Hector slipped over to our cabin several times and talked to pappy,

and mammy began to fix up grub, but she didn't give us children but a

little bit of it, and told us to stay around with her at the cabin and

not go playing with the other children.

Then early one morning, about daylight, old Mr. Mose came down to the

cabin in his buggy, waving a shot gun and hollering at the top of his

voice. I never saw a man so mad in all my life, before nor since!

He yelled in at mammy to "git them children together and git up to my

house before I beat you and all of them to death!" Mammy began to cry

and plead that she didn't know anything, but he acted like he was

going to shoot sure enough, so we all ran to mammy and started for Mr.

Mose's house as fast as we could trot.

We had to pass all the other Negro cabins on the way, and we could see

that they were all empty, and it looked like everything in them had

been tore up. Straw and corn shucks all over the place, where somebody

had tore up the mattresses, and all the pans and kettles gone off the

outside walls where they used to hang them.

At one place we saw two Negro boys loading some iron kettles on a

wagon, and a little further on was some boys catching chickens in a

yard, but we could see all the Negroes had left in a big hurry.

I asked mammy where everybody had gone and she said, "Up to Mr. Mose's

house, where we are going. He's calling us all in."

"Will pappy be up there too?" I asked her.

"No. Your pappy and your Uncle Hector and your Uncle William and a lot

of other menfolks won't be here any more. They went away. That's why

Mr. Mose is so mad, so if any of you younguns say anything about any

strange men coming to our place I'll break your necks!" Mammy was sure

scared!

We all thought sure she was going to get a big whipping, but Mr. Mose

just looked at her a minute and then told her to get back to the cabin

and bring all the clothes, and bed ticks and all kinds of cloth we had

and come back ready to travel.

"We're going to take all you black devils to a place where there won't

no more of you run away!" he yelled after us. So we got ready to leave

as quick as we could. I kept crying about my pappy, but mammy would

say, "Don't you worry about your pappy, he's free now. Better be

worrying about us. No telling where we all will end up!" There was

four or five Creek families and their Negroes all got together to

leave, with all their stuff packed in buggies and wagons, and being

toted by the Negroes or carried tied on horses, jack asses, mules and

milk cattle. I reckon it was a funny looking sight, or it would be to

a person now; the way we was all loaded down with all manner of

baggage when we met at the old ford across the Arkansas that lead to

the Creek Agency. The Agency stood on a high hill a few miles across

the river from where we lived, but we couldn't see it from our place

down in the Choska bottoms. But as soon as we got up on the upland

east of the bottoms we could look across and see the hill.

When we got to a grove at the foot of the hill near the agency Mr.

Mose and the other masters went up to the Agency for a while. I

suppose they found out up there what everybody was supposed to do and

where they was supposed to go, for when we started on it wasn't long

until several more families and their slaves had joined the party and

we made quite a big crowd.

The little Negro boys had to carry a little bundle apiece, but Mr.

Mose didn't make the little girls carry anything and let us ride if we

could find anything to ride on. My mammy had to help lead the cows

part of the time, but a lot of the time she got to ride an old horse,

and she would put me up behind her. It nearly scared me to death,

because I had never been on a horse before, and she had to hold on to

me all the time to keep me from falling off.

Of course I was too small to know what was going on then, but I could

tell that all the masters and the Negroes seemed to be mighty worried

and careful all the time. Of course I know now that the Creeks were

all split up over the War, and nobody was able to tell who would be

friendly to us or who would try to poison us or kill us, or at least

rob us. There was a lot of bushwhacking all through that country by

little groups of men who was just out to get all they could. They

would appear like they was the enemy of anybody they run across, just

to have an excuse to rob them or burn up their stuff. If you said you

was with the South they would be with the North and if you claimed to

be with the Yankees they would be with the South, so our party was

kind of upset all the time we was passing through the country along

the Canadian. That was where old Gouge had been talking against the

South. I've heard my folks say that he was a wonderful speaker, too.

We all had to move along mighty slow, on account of the ones on foot,

and we wouldn't get very far in one day, then we Negroes had to fix up

a place to camp and get wood and cook supper for everybody. Sometimes

we would come to a place to camp that somebody knew about and we

would find it all tromped down by horses and the spring all filled in

and ruined. I reckon old Gouge's people would tear up things when they

left, or maybe some Southern bushwhackers would do it. I don't know

which.

When we got down to where the North Fork runs into the Canadian we

went around the place where the Creek town was. There was lots of

Creeks down there who was on the other side, so we passed around that

place and forded across west of there. The ford was a bad one, and it

took us a long time to get across. Everybody got wet and a lot of the

stuff on the wagons got wet. Pretty soon we got down into the

Chickasaw country, and everybody was friendly to us, but the Chickasaw

people didn't treat their slaves like the Creeks did. They was more

strict, like the people in Texas and other places. The Chickasaws

seemed lighter color than the Creeks but they talked more in Indian

among themselves and to their slaves. Our masters talked English

nearly all the time except when they were talking to Creeks who didn't

talk good English, and we Negroes never did learn very good Creek. I

could always understand it, and can yet, a little, but I never did try

to talk it much. Mammy and pappy used English to us all the time.

Mr. Mose found a place for us to stop close to Fort Washita, and got

us places to stay and work. I don't know which direction we were from

Fort Washita, but I know we were not very far. I don't know how many

years we were down in there, but I know it was over two for we worked

on crops at two different places, I remember. Then one day Mr. Mose

came and told us that the War was over and that we would have to root

for ourselves after that. Then he just rode away and I never saw him

after that until after we had got back up into the Choska country.

Mammy heard that the Negroes were going to get equal rights with the

Creeks, and that she should go to the Creek Agency to draw for us, so

we set out to try to get back.

We started out on foot, and would go a little ways each day, and mammy

would try to get a little something to do to get us some food. Two or

three times she got paid in money, so she had some money when we got

back. After three or four days of walking we came across some more

Negroes who had a horse, and mammy paid them to let us children ride

and tie with their children for a day or two. They had their children

on the horse, so two or three little ones would get on with a larger

one to guide the horse and we would ride a while and get off and tie

the horse and start walking on down the road. Then when the others

caught up with the horse they would ride until they caught up with us.

Pretty soon the old people got afraid to have us do that, so we just

led the horse and some of the little ones rode it.

We had our hardest times when we would get to a river or big creek. If

the water was swift the horse didn't do any good, for it would shy at

the water and the little ones couldn't stay on, so we would have to

just wait until someone came along in a wagon and maybe have to pay

them with some of our money or some of our goods we were bringing back

to haul us across. Sometimes we had to wait all day before anyone

would come along in a wagon.

We were coming north all this time, up through the Seminole Nation,

but when we got to Weeleetka we met a Creek family of freedmen who

were going to the Agency too, and mammy paid them to take us along in

their wagon. When we got to the Agency mammy met a Negro who had seen

pappy and knew where he was, so we sent word to him and he came and

found us. He had been through most of the War in the Union army.

When we got away into the Cherokee country some of them called the

"Pins" helped to smuggle him on up into Missouri and over into Kansas,

but he soon found that he couldn't get along and stay safe unless he

went with the Army. He went with them until the War was over, and was

around Gibson quite a lot. When he was there he tried to find out

where we had gone but said he never could find out. He was in the

battle of Honey Springs, he said, but never was hurt or sick. When we

got back together we cleared a selection of land a little east of the

Choska bottoms, near where Clarksville now is, and farmed until I was

a great big girl.

I went to school at a little school called Blackjack school. I think

it was a kind of mission school and not one of the Creek nation

schools, because my first teacher was Miss Betty Weaver and she was

not a Creek but a Cherokee. Then we had two white teachers, Miss King

and John Kernan, and another Cherokee was in charge. His name was

Ross, and he was killed one day when his horse fell off a bridge

across the Verdigris, on the way from Tullahassee to Gibson Station.

When I got to be a young woman I went to Okmulgee and worked for some

people near there for several years, then I married Tate Grayson. We

got our freedmen's allotments on Mingo Creek, east of Tulsa, and lived

there until our children were grown and Tate died, then I came to live

with my daughter in Tulsa.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

ROBERT R. GRINSTEAD

Age 80 yrs.

Oklahoma City, Okla.

I was born in Lawrence County, Mississippi, February 17, 1857. My

father's name is Elias Grinstead, a German, and my mother's name is

Ann Greenstead after that of her master. I am a son by my mother and

her Master. I have four other half brothers William (Bill) oldest,

Albert, Silas, and John.

I was only eight years of age at freedom and for that reason I was too

young to work and on account of being the son of my Master's I

received no hard treatment and did little or no work. Yet, I wore the

same clothing as did the rest of the slaves: a shirt of lowell for

summer and shirt and trousers for winter and no shoes. I could walk

through a briar patch in my bare feet without sticking one in the

bottom of my feet as they were so hard and resistant.

I was the only child of my Master as he had no wife. When the War

broke out he went to the War and left the plantation in charge of his

overseer and his two sisters. As the overseers were hard for them to

get along with they were oftener without an overseer as with one, and

therefore they used one of the Negroes as overseer for the most of the

time.

Across the river was another large plantation and slave owner by the

name of Master Wilson. We called him Master too, for he was a close

friend and neighbor to our Mistresses. There was one Negro man slave

who decided to not work after Master went to the War and the white

overseer was fired and the Negro overseer was acting as overseer, so

my Mistress gave him a note to take across the river to Master Wilson.

The note was an order to whip this Negro and as he couldn't read he

didn't know what the note contained until after Master Wilson read it

and gave orders to his men to tie him for his whipping. After this,

the whipping was so severe that they never had any more trouble in

making this Negro slave work and they never had to send him back again

to Master Wilson to be whipped. The fun part of this above incidence

was the Negro carried his own note and went alone to be whipped and

didn't know it 'til the lashes was being put on him.

My Master's plantation was about 2 miles long and 1-1/2 mile wide and

he owned between 30 or 40 slaves. The Negro overseer would wake up the

slaves and have them in the field before they could see how to work

each morning and as they would go to work so soon their breakfast was

carried to the field to them. One morning the breakfast was taken to

the field and the slaves were hoeing cotton and among them was a lad

about 15 years of age who could not hoe as fast as the older slaves

and the breakfast was sat at the end of the rows and as they would hoe

out to the end they would eat, and if you would be late hoeing to the

end the first to go to the end would began eating and eat everything.

So, this 15 year old lad in order to get out to eat before everything

was gone did not hoe his row good and the overseer, who was white at

this time, whipped him so severely that he could not eat nor work,

that day.

The Negroes went to church with the white people and joined their

church. The church was Baptist in denomination, and they built a pen

in the church in which the Negroes sat, and when they would take

sacrament the Negroes would be served after the whites were through

and one of the Negro group would pass it around to the others within

the pen.

As there were no dances held on the plantation the Negroes would

oftimes slip off and go at nights to a nearby dance or peanut parching

or rice suppers at nights after work. Some of the slaves would be

allowed to make for themselves rice patches which they would gather

and save for the dances. To prepare this rice for cooking after

harvested they would burn a trough into a log, they called mortar and

with a large wooden mallet they called pessel, and which they would

pound upon the rice until hulled and ready for cooking. This rice

would be boiled with just salt and water and eaten as a great feast

with delight.

During slavery some of the Negro slaves would kill snakes and skin

them and wear these snake skins to prevent being voodooed they said.

When some of the slaves would take sick and the home remedies would

fail to cure them our Mistress would allow one of the Negro men slaves

to go to the white doctor and get some medicine for the patient. The

doctor would ask questions as to the actions of the patient and from

said description would send medicine without ever going to see the

patient and his medicine would always cure the patient of his disease

if consulted in time.

After the news came that brought our freedom a white union officer

with 20 trained Negro soldiers visited the plantations and saw that

the Negroes received their freedom. He would put on a demonstration

with his Negro soldiers by having them line up and then at a command

they would all rush forward and stand their guns up together on the

stock end without a one falling and get back into line and upon

another command they would rush forward and each get his gun again

without allowing one to fall and again reline up.

When I was large enough to pay attention to my color and to that of

the other slaves I wondered to myself why I was not black like the

rest of the slaves and concluded to myself that I would when I got

grown like they were as I knew not then that I was the son of my

Master.

During the War and as the men and our Master all went to the War the

Negroes or a Negro would have to go to the Mistress' homes each

morning and start fires and never, did I ever hear of a rape case

under such close conditions as Negroes going into the bed rooms each

morning of the white mistress to start fires.

My first wife was name Tracy Smith. As I had been free for over 12

years. We had ordinary marriage ceremony. I have 11 grown children, 15

or 20 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren.

I think Abraham Lincoln was a fine old gentlemen and as to Jeff Davis

I don't think he was what he should have been, and as to Booker T.

Washington I think his idea of educating or training Negroes as

servants to serve the white race appealed more to the white race than

the Negroes.

My viewpoint as to slavery is that it was as much detrimental to the

white race as it was to the Negroes, as one elevated ones minds too

highly, and the other degraded ones mind too lowly.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

[Date stamp: NOV 5 1937]

MATTIE HARDMAN

Age 78 yrs.

Oklahoma City, Okla.

I was born January 2, 1859, at Gunalis, Texas. My father's name was

William Tensley and my mother's name Mildred Howard. They was brought

from Virginia. I did have 8 brothers and sisters but all of them are

dead.

My Master was name William Henry Howard. Since I was too young to work

I nursed my sisters' children while they worked. The cooking was done

all up to the general kitchen at Masters house and when slaves come

from work they would send their children up to the kitchen to bring

their meals to their homes in the quarters. Our Mistress would have

one of the cooks to dish up vegetables and she herself would slice or

serve the meat to see that it wasn't wasted, as seemingly it was

thought so precious.

As my mother worked 'round the Big House quite a deal I would go up to

the Big House with her and play with the white children who seemed to

like for me to come to play with them. One day in anger while playing

I called one of the white girls, "old black dog" and they pretended

they would tell their mother (my Mistress) about it. I was scared, as

they saw, and they promised me they would not tell if I'd promise to

not do it again, and which I was so glad to do and be let off so

lightly.

For summer I wore a cotton slip and for winter my mother knitted at

nights after her days work was done so I wore red flannels for

underwear and thick linsey for an over-dress, and had knitted

stockings and bought shoes. As my Master was a doctor he made his

slaves wear suitable clothes in accordance to the weather. We also

wore gloves my mother knitted in winter.

My Mistress was good to all of the slaves. On Sunday morning she would

make all the Negro children come to the Big House and she would stand

on the front steps and read the Catechism to us who sat or stood in

front on the ground.

My Master was also good. On Wednesdays and Friday nights he would make

the slaves come up to the Big House and he would read the Bible to

them and he would pray. He was a doctor and very fractious and exact.

He didn't allow the slaves to claim they forgot to do thus and so nor

did he allow them to make the expression, "I thought so and so." He

would say to them if they did: "Who told you, you could think!"

They had 10 children, 7 boys and 3 girls. Their house was a large

2-story log house painted white. My father was overseer on the

plantation.

The plantation consisted of 400 acres and about 40 slaves including

children. The slaves were so seldom punished until they never'd worry

about being punished. They treated their slaves as though they loved

them. The poor white neighbors were also good and treated the slaves

good, for my Master would warn them to not bother his Negroes. My

Mistress always told the slaves she wanted all of them to visit her

and come to her funeral and burial when she died and named the men

slaves she wanted to be her pallbearers, all of which was carried out

as she planned even though it was after freedom.

The slaves even who lived adjoining our plantation would have church

at our Big House. They would hold church on Sundays and Sunday nights.

As my mother worked a deal for her Mistress she had an inkling or

overheard that they was going to be set free long before the day they

were. She called all the slaves on the plantation together and broke

to them this news after they had promised her they would not spread

the news so that it would get back to our Master. So, everybody kept

the news until Saturday night June 19th, when Master called all the

slaves to the big gate and told them they were all free, but could

stay right on in their homes if they had no places to go and which all

of them did. They went right out and gathered the crop just like

they'd always done, and some of them remained there several years.

My first husband was name, S. W. Warnley. We had 4 children, 1 girl

and three boys and 3 grandchildren. I now have two grandchildren.

Now that slavery is over I sometime wish 'twas still existing for some

of our lazy folks, so that so many of them wouldn't or couldn't loaf

around so much lowering our race, walking the streets day by day and

running from house to house living corruptible lives which is keeping

the race down as though there be no good ones among us.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

[Date stamp: AUG 16 1937]

ANNIE HAWKINS

Age 90

Colbert, Okla

I calls myself 90, but I don't know jest how old I really am but I was

a good sized gal when we moved from Georgia to Texas. We come on a big

boat and one night the stars fell. Talk about being scared! We all run

and hid and hollered and prayed. We thought the end of the world had

come.

I never had no whitefolks that was good to me. We all worked jest like

dogs and had about half enough to eat and got whupped for everything.

Our days was a constant misery to us. I know lots of niggers that was

slaves had a good time but we never did. Seems hard that I can't say

anything good for any of 'em but I sho' can't. When I was small my job

was to tote cool water to the field to the hands. It kept me busy

going back and forth and I had to be sho' my old Mistress had a cool

drink when she wanted it, too. Mother and my sister and me worked in

the field all day and come in time to clear away the things and cook

supper. When we was through in the kitchen we would spin fer a long

time. Mother would spin and we would card.

My old Master was Dave Giles, the meanest man that ever lived. He

didn't have many slaves, my mammy, and me, and my sister, Uncle Bill,

and Truman. He had owned my grandma but he give her a bad whupping and

she never did git over it and died. We all done as much work as a

dozen niggers--we knowed we had to.

I seen old Master git mad at Truman and he buckled him down across a

barrel and whupped him till he cut the blood out of him and then he

rubbed salt and pepper in the raw places. It looked like Truman would

die it hurt so bad. I know that don't sound reasonable that a white

man in a Christian community would do such a thing but you can't

realize how heartless he was. People didn't know about it and we

dassent tell for we knowed he'd kill us if we did. You must remember

he owned us body and soul and they wasn't anything we could do about

it. Old Mistress and her three girls was mean to us too.

One time me and my sister was spinning and old Mistress went to the

well-house and she found a chicken snake and killed it. She brought it

back and she throwed it around my sister's neck. She jest laughed and

laughed about it. She thought it was a big joke.

Old Master stayed drunk all the time. I reckon that is the reason he

was so fetched mean. My, how we hated him! He finally killed hisself

drinking and I remember Old Mistress called us in to look at him in

his coffin. We all marched by him slow like and I jest happened to

look up and caught my sister's eye and we both jest natchelly

laughed--Why shouldn't we? We was glad he was dead. It's a good thing

we had our laugh fer old Mistress took us out and whupped us with a

broomstick. She didn't make us sorry though.

Old Master and Mistress lived in a nice big house on top of a hill and

us darkies lived in log cabins with log floors. Our dresses was made

out of coarse cloth like cotton sacking and and [TR: sic] it sho'

lasted a long time. It ort to been called mule-hide for it was about

that tough.

We went to church sometimes. They had to let us do that or folks would

have found out how mean they was to us. Old Master'd give us a pass to

show the patroller. We was glad to git the chance to git away and we

always went to church.

During the War we seen lots of soldiers. Some of them was Yankees and

some were Sesesh soldiers. My job every day was to take a big tray of

food and set it on a stump about a quarter of a mile from our house. I

done this twice a day and ever time I went back the dishes would be

empty. I never did see nobody and didn't nobody tell me why I was to

take the food up there but of course it was either for soliders [TR:

sic] that was scouting 'round or it may been for some lowdown dirty

bushwhacker, and again it might a been for some of old Master's folks

scouting 'round to keep out of the army.

We was the happiest folks in the world when we knowed we was free. We

couldn't realize it at first but how we did shout and cry for joy when

we did realize it. We was afraid to leave the place at first for fear

old Mistress would bring us back or the pateroller would git us. Old

Mistress died soon after the War and we didn't care either. She didn't

never do nothing to make us love her. We was jest as glad as when old

Master died. I don't know what become of the three gals. They was

about grown.

We moved away jest as far away as we could and I married soon after.

My husband died and I married again. I been married four times and all

my husbands died. The last time I married it was to a man that

belonged to a Indian man, Sam Love. He was a good owner and was one of

the best men that ever lived. My husband never did move far away from

him and he loved him like a father. He always looked after him till he

died. My husband has been dead five years.

I have had fifteen children. Four pairs of twins, and only four of

them are living. The good Lawd wouldn't let me keep them. I'se lived

through three wars so you see I'se no baby.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

[Date stamp: NOV 5 1937]

IDA HENRY

Age 83

Oklahoma City, Okla.

I was born in Marshall, Texas, in 1854. Me mother was named Millie

Henderson and me father Silas Hall. Me mother was sold in South

Carolina to Mister Hall, who brought her to Texas. Me father was born

and raised by Master John Hall. Me mother's and father's family

consisted of five girls and one boy. My sisters' names were:

Margrette, Chalette, Lottie, Gracy and Loyo, and me brother's name was

Dock Howard. I lived with me mother and father in a log house on

Master Hall's plantation. We would be sorry when dark, as de

patrollers would walk through de quarters and homes of de slaves all

times of night wid pine torch lights to whip de niggers found away

from deir home.

At nights when me mother would slip away for a visit to some of de

neighbors homes, she would raise up the old plank floor to de log

cabin and make pallets on de ground and put us to bed and put the

floor back down so dat we couldn't be seen or found by the patrollers

on their stroll around at nights.

My grandmother Lottie would always tell us to not let Master catch you

in a lie, and to always tell him de truth.

I was a house girl to me Mistress and nursed, cooked, and carried de

children to and from school. In summer we girls wore cotton slips and

yarn dresses for winter. When I got married I was dress in blue serge

and was de third person to marry in it. Wedding dresses was not worn

after de wedding in dem days by niggers as we was taught by our

Mistress dat it was bad luck to wear de wedding dress after marriage.

Therefore, 'twas handed down from one generation to the other one.

Me Mistress was sometimes good and sometimes mean. One day de cook was

waiting de table and when passing around de potatoes, old Mistress

felt of one and as hit wasn't soft done, she exclaimed to de cook,

"What you bring these raw potatoes out here for?" and grab a fork and

stuck it in her eye and put hit out. She, de cook, lived about 10

years and died.

Me Mistress was de mother of five children, Crock, Jim, Boss and two

girls name, Lea and Annie.

Dere home was a large two-story white house wid de large white posts.

As me Master went to de War de old overseer tried himself in meanness

over de slaves as seemingly he tried to be important. One day de

slaves caught him and one held him whilst another knocked him in de

head and killed him.

Master's plantation was about 300 acres and he had 'bout 160 slaves.

Before de slaves killed our overseer, he would work 'em night and day.

De slaves was punished when dey didn't do as much work as de overseer

wanted 'em to do.

He would lock 'em in jail some nights without food and kept 'em dere

all night, and after whipping 'em de next morning would only give 'em

bread and water to work on till noon.

When a slave was hard to catch for punishment dey would make 'em wear

ball and chains. De ball was 'bout de size of de head and made of

lead.

On Sunday mornings before breakfast our Mistress would call us

together, read de Bible and show us pictures of de Devil in de Bible

and tell us dat if we was not good and if we would steal and tell lies

dat old Satan would git us.

Close to our Master's plantation lived several families of old "poor

white trash" who would steal me Master's hogs and chickens and come

and tell me Mistress dat dey seen some of de slaves knock one of dere

hogs in de head. Dis continued up till Master returned from de War and

caught de old white trash stealing his hogs. De niggers did at times

steal Master's hogs and chickens, and I would put biscuits and pieces

of chicken in a sack under me dress dat hung from me waist, as I

waited de table for me Mistress, and later would slip off and eat it

as dey never gave de slaves none of dis sort of food.

We had church Sundays and our preacher Rev. Pat Williams would preach

and our Master and family and other nearby white neighbors would

ofttime attend our services. De patrollers wouldn't allow de slaves to

hold night services, and one night dey caught me mother out praying.

Dey stripped her naked and tied her hands together and wid a rope tied

to de hand cuffs and threw one end of de rope over a limb and tied de

other end to de pommel of a saddle on a horse. As me mother weighed

'bout 200, dey pulled her up so dat her toes could barely touch de

ground and whipped her. Dat same night she ran away and stayed over a

day and returned.

During de fall months dey would have corn shucking and cotton pickings

and would give a prize to de one who would pick de highest amount of

cotton or shuck de largest pile of corn. De prize would usually be a

suit of clothes or something to wear and which would be given at some

later date.

We could only have dances during holidays, but dances was held on

other plantations. One night a traveler visiting me Master and wanted

his boots shined. So Master gave de boots to one of de slaves to shine

and de slave put de boots on and went to a dance and danced so much

dat his feet swelled so dat when he returned he could not pull 'em

off.

De next morning as de slave did not show up with de boots dey went to

look for him and found him lying down trying to pull de boots off. He

told his Master dat he had put de boots on to shine 'em and could not

pull 'em off. So Master had to go to town and buy de traveler another

pair of boots. Before he could run away de slave was beaten wid 500

lashes.

De War dat brought our freedom lasted about two years. Me Master went

and carried one of de slaves for a servant. He was kind and good and

from dat day on he never whipped another slave nor did he allow any of

his slaves whipped. Dis time lasted from January to June de 19th when

we was set free in de State of Texas.

Lincoln and Davis both died short of promise. I means dat dey both

died before dey carried out dere plans and promises for freeing de

slaves.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

MORRIS HILLYER

Age 84 yrs.

Alderson, Okla.

My father was Gabe Hillyer and my mother was Clarisay Hillyer, and our

home was in Rome, Georgia. Our owner was Judge Hillyer. He was de last

United States senator to Washington, D. C., before de War.

My mother died when I was only a few days old and the only mother I

ever knew was Judge Hillyer's wife, Miss Jane. Her nine children were

all older than I was and when mother died Miss Jane said mother had

raised her children and she would raise hers. So she took us into her

house and we never lived at de quarters any more. I had two sisters,

Sally and Sylvia, and we had a room in de Big House and sister Sally

didn't do nothing else but look after me. I used to stand with my

thumb in my mouth and hold to Miss Jane's apron while she knitted.

When Judge Hillyer was elected he sold out his farm and gave his

slaves to his children. He owned about twelve or fourteen slaves at

this time. He gave me and my sister Sylvia to his son, Dr. Hillyer,

and my father to another one of his sons who was studying law. Father

stayed with him and took care of him until he graduated. Father

learned to be a good carpenter while he lived with George Hillyer.

George never married until after de War.

Dr. Hillyer lived on a big plantation but he practiced medicine all de

time. He didn't have much time to look after de farm but he had good

overseers and they sure didn't beat his slaves or mistreat 'em in any

way. Dr. Hillyer married a rich girl, Miss Mary Cooley, and her father

gave her fifteen slaves when she married and Judge Hillyer gave him

five so he had a purty good start from de first and he knowed how to

make money so he was a wealthy man when de Rebellion started.

My sister and I didn't know how to act when we was sent out there

among strangers. We had to live in de quarters just like de other

niggers, and we didn't especially like it. I guess I was a sort of bad

boy.

There was several more boys about my age and we didn't have any work

to do but just busy ourselves by getting into mischief. We'd ride de

calves, chase de pigs, kill de chickens, break up hens nests, and in

fact do most everything we hadn't ought to do. Finally they put us to

toting water to de field hands, minding de gaps, taking de cows to

pasture and as dat kept us purty busy we wasn't so bad after dat.

My happiest days was when I was with de old Judge and Miss Jane. I can

sit here and think of them old times and it seems like it was just

yesterday dat it all happened. He was a great hand to go to town every

day and lounge around wid his cronies. I used to go with him, and my

how they would argue. Sometimes they would get mad and shake their

canes in each other's faces. I guess they was talking politics.

Our old Master liked cats better than any man I ever saw, and he

always had five or six that followed him about de place like dogs.

When he went to eat they was always close to him and just as soon as

he finished he would always feed them. When he was gone us boys used

to throw at his cats or set de dogs on 'em. We was always careful dat

no one saw us for if he had known about it he would a-whipped us and

no mistake. I wouldn't a-blamed him either, for I like cats now. I

think they are lots of company.

He was a typical Southern gentleman, medium sized, and wore a Van Dyke

beard. He never whipped his slaves, and he didn't have a one dat

wouldn't a-died for him.

Judge Hillyer had one son, William, dat wouldn't go to college. He

made fun of his brothers for going to school so long, and said that he

would be ashamed to go and stay five or six years. After de War he

settled down and studied law in Judge Akin's office and opened a

office in Athens, Georgia, and he made de best lawyer of them all.

Us boys used to go hunting with Master William. He hunted rabbits,

quails, squirrels, and sometimes he would kill a deer. He hunted

mostly with dogs. He never used a gun but very little. Lead was so

scarce and cost so much dat he couldn't afford to waste a bullet on

rabbits or snakes. He made his own bullets. The dogs would chase a

rabbit into a hollow tree and we'd take a stick and twist him out.

Sometimes we'd have nearly all de hide twisted off him when we'd git

him out.

Old Judge Hillyer smoked a pipe with a long stem. He used to give me

ten cents a day to fill it for him. He told me I had to have $36 at

the end of the year, but I never made it. There was a store right

close to us and I'd go down there and spend my money for lemon stick

candy, ginger cakes, peanuts, and firecrackers. Old Master knowed I

wouldn't save it, and he didn't care if I did spent it for it was mine

to do with just as I pleased.

Every time a circus come to town I'd run off and they wouldn't see me

again all day. Seemed like I just couldn't help it. I wouldn't take

time to git permission to go. One time to punish me for running off he

tied me up by my thumbs, and I had to stay home while de rest went. I

didn't dare try to git loose and run off for I knowed I'd git my

jacket tanned if I did. Old Master never laid his hand on me, but I

knowed he would if I didn't do as he told me. He never told us twice

to do anything either.

Coins had curious names in them days. A dime was called a thrip.

Fourpen was about the same value as three cents or maybe a little

more. It took three of 'em to make a thrip. There was all sorts of

paper money.

Every first Tuesday slaves were brought in from Virginia and sold on

de block. De auctioneer was Cap'n Dorsey. E. M. Cobb was de slave

bringer. They would stand de slaves up on de block and talk about what

a fine looking specimen of black manhood or womanhood dey was, tell

how healthy dey was, look in their mouth and examine their teeth just

like they was a horse, and talk about de kind of work they would be

fit for and could do. Young healthy boys and girls brought the best

prices. I guess they figured dat they would grow to be valuable. I

used to stand around and watch de sales take place but it never

entered my mind to be afraid for I knowed old Judge wasn't going to

sell me. I thought I was an important member of his family.

Old Judge bought every roguish nigger in the country. He'd take him

home and give him the key to everything on de place and say to help

hisself. Soon as he got all he wanted to eat he'd quit being a rogue.

Old Judge said that was what made niggers steal--they was hungry.

They used to scare us kids by telling us dat a runaway nigger would

git us. De timber was awful heavy in de river bottoms, and dey was one

nigger dat run off from his master and lived for years in these

bottoms. He was there all during de War and come out after de

surrender. Every man in dat country owned him at some time or other.

His owner sold him to a man who was sure he could catch him--he never

did, so he sold him to another slave owner and so on till nearly

everybody had him. He changed hands about six or seven times. They

would come in droves with blood hounds and hunt for him but dey

couldn't catch him for he knowed them woods too well. He'd feed de

dogs and make friends with 'em and they wouldn't bother him. He lived

on nuts, fruit, and wild game, and niggers would slip food to him.

He'd slip into town and get whiskey and trade it to de niggers for

food.

Judge Hillyer never 'lowanced his niggers and dey could always have

anything on de place to eat. We had so much freedom dat other slave

owners in our neighborhood didn't like for us to come among their

slaves for they said we was free niggers and would make their slaves

discontented.

After I went to live with Judge Hillyer's son, Dr. Hillyer, one of my

jobs was to tote the girls books to school every morning. All the

plantation owners had a colored boy dat did that. After we had toted

de books to de school house we'd go back down de road a piece and line

up and have the "gone-bying-est" fight you ever see. We'd have regular

battles. If I got licked in de morning I'd go home and rest up and I'd

give somebody a good licking dat evening. I reckon I caught up with my

fighting for in all my working life I have always worked with gangs of

men of from one to two-hundred and I never struck a man and no man

ever struck me.

Jim Williams was a patroller, and how he did like to catch a nigger

off de farm without a permit so he could whip him. Jim thought he was

de best man in de country and could whip de best of 'em. One night

John Hardin, a big husky feller, was out late. He met Jim and knowed

he was in for it. Jim said, "John I'm gonna give you a white man's

chance. I'm gonna let you fight me and if you are de best man, well

and good."

John say, "Master Jim, I can't fight wid you. Come on and give me my

licking, and let me go on home."

But Jim wouldn't do it, and he slapped John and called him some names

and told him he is a coward to fight him. All dis made John awful mad

and he flew into him and give him the terriblest licking a man ever

toted. He went on home but knew he would git into trouble over it.

Jim talked around over the country about what he was going to do to

John but everybody told him dat he brought it all on hisself. He

never did try to git another nigger to fight with him.

Yes, I guess charms keep off bad luck. I have wore 'em but money

always was my best lucky piece. I've made lots of money but I never

made good use of it.

I was always afraid of ghosts but I never saw one. There was a

graveyard beside de road from our house to town and I always was

afraid to go by it. I'd shut my eyes and run for dear life till I was

past de grave yard. I had heard dat there was a headless man dat

stayed there on cold rainy days or foggy nights he'd hide by de fence

and throw his head at you. Once a man got hit and he fell right down

dead. I believed dat tale and you can imagine how I felt whenever I

had to go past there by myself and on foot.

I saw lots of Ku Kluxers but I wasn't afraid of them. I knowed I

hadn't done nothing and they wasn't after me. One time I met a bunch

of 'em and one of 'em said, "Who is dis feller?" Another one said,

"Oh, dat's Gabe's foolish boy, come on, don't bother him." I always

did think dat voice sounded natural but I never did say anything about

it. It sounded powerful like one of old Judge's boys. Dey rode on and

didn't bother me and I never was a bit afraid of 'em any more.

I went to school one month after de War. I never learned much but I

learned to read some where along de road dat I come over. My father

come from Athens, Georgia, and took us away with him. I learned the

carpenter's trade from him. He was so mean to me dat I run away when I

was nineteen. I went back to Rome, Georgia, and got a job with a

bridge gang and spent two years with 'em. I went then to Henderson,

Kentucky, and worked for ten years. There was hundreds of colored

people coming to de mines at Krebs and Alderson and I decided to come

along, too. I never worked in de mines but I did all sorts of

carpentering for them.

I married in Atoka, Oklahoma, thirty-three years ago. I never had no

children.

I've made lots of money but somehow it always got away from me. But me

and my wife have our little home here and we are both still able to

work a little, so I guess we are making it all right.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

HAL HUTSON

Age 90 yrs.

Oklahoma City, Okla.

I was born at Galveston, Tennessee, October 12, 1847. There were 11

children: 7 brothers; Andrew, George, Clent, Gilbert, Frank, Mack and

Horace; and 3 girls: Rosie, Marie and Nancy. We were all Hutsons.

Together with my mother and father we worked for the same man whose

name was Mr. Barton Brown, but who we all call Master Brown, and

sometimes Mr. Brown.

Master Brown had a good weather-board house, two story, with five or

six rooms. They lived pretty well. He had eight children. We lived in

one-room log huts. There were a long string of them huts. We slept on

the floor like hogs. Girls and boys slept together--jest everybody

slept every whar. We never knew what biscuits were! We ate "seconds

and shorts" (wheat ground once) for bread. Ate rabbits, possums baked

with taters, beans, and bean soup. No chicken, fish and the like. My

favorite dish now is beans.

Master Brown owned about 36 or 40 slaves, I can't recall jest now, and

about 200 acres of ground. There was very little cotton raised in

Galveston--I mean jest some corn. Sometimes we would shuck corn all

night. He would not let us raise gardens of our own, but didn't mind

us raising corn and a few other truck vegetables to sell for a little

spending change.

I learned to read, write and figger at an early age. Master Brown's

boy and I were the same age you see (14 years old) and he would send

me to school to protect his kids, and I would have to sit up there

until school was out. So while sitting there I listened to what the

white teacher was telling the kids, and caught on how to read, write

and figger--but I never let on, 'cause if I was caught trying to read

or figger dey would whip me something terrible. After I caught on how

to figger the white kids would ask me to teach them. Master Brown

would often say: "My God O'mighty, never do for that nigger to learn

to figger."

We weren't allowed to count change. If we borrowed a fifty-cent piece,

we would have to pay back a fifty-cent piece--not five dimes or fifty

pennies or ten nickels.

We went barefooted the year round and wore long shirts split on each

side. All of us niggers called all the whites "poor white trash." The

overseer was nothing but poor white trash and the meanest man that

ever walked on earth. He never did whip me much 'cause I was kind of a

pet. I worked up to the Big House, but he sho' did whip them others.

Why, one day he was beating my mother, and I was too small to say

anything, so my big brother heard her crying and came running, picked

up a chunk and that overseer stopped a'beating her. The white boy was

holding her on the ground and he was whipping her with a long leather

whip. They said they couldn't teach her no sense and she said "I don't

wanna learn no sense." The overseer's name was Charlie Clark. One day

he whipped a man until he was bloody as a pig 'cause he went to the

mill and stayed too long.

The patroller rode all night and iffen we were caught out later than

10:00 o'clock they would beat us, but we would git each other word by

sending a man round way late at night. Always take news by night. Of

course the Ku Klux Klan didn't come 'til after the war. They was

something like the patrollers. Never heard of no trouble between the

black and whites 'cause them niggers were afraid to resist them.

My biggest job was keeping flies off'n the table up at the Big House.

When time come to go in for the day we would cut up and dance. I can't

remember any of the songs jest now, but we had some that we sung. We

danced a whole lots and jest sung "made up" songs.

Old Master would stay up to hear us come in. Of course Saturday

afternoon was a holiday. We didn't work no holidays. Master gave us

one week off for Christmas, and never worked us on Sunday, unless the

"ox was in the ditch." When the slaves got sick we had white doctors,

and we would wait on each other. Drink dock root tea, mullin tea, and

flaxweed tea, but we never wore charms.

I think it's a good thing that slavery's over. It ought to been over a

good while ago. But its going to be slavery all over again if things

don't git better. But I thank God I've been a Christian for 70 years,

and now is a member of Tabernacle Baptist Church and deacon of the

church, and a Christian 'cause the Bible teaches me to be.

That war was a awful thing. I used to pack them soldiers water on my

head, and then I worked at Fort Sill and Fort Dawson in Tennessee.

Those Yankees came by nights--got behind those rebels, and took their

hams, drove horses in the houses, killed their chickens and ate up the

rebels food, but the Yanks didn't bother us niggers.

When freedom come old Master called us all in from the fields and told

us, "All of you niggers are free as frogs now to go wherever you

choose. You are your own man now." We all continued working for him at

$5.00 a month. After the crops were gathered the niggers scattered

out. Some went North--and we would say when they went North that they

had "crossed the water."

I never married 'till after the War. Married at my mother's house

'cause my wife's mother didn't let us marry at her house, so I sent

Jack Perry after her on a hoss and we had a big dinner--and jest got

married.

I am the father of nine children, but jest three is living. One is a

dentist in Muskogge, Dr. Andrew Hutson. All of the children are pretty

well read. We never had schools for niggers until after slavery.

I think Abraham Lincoln was a great man, but I don't know much about

Jeff Davis. Booker T. Washington was a fine man.

Oklahoma Writers' Project

Ex-Slaves

[Date stamp: AUG 16 1937]

WILLIAM HUTSON

Age 98 yrs.

Tulsa, Okla.

When a feller gets as old as me it's a heap easier to forget things

than it is to remember, but I ain't never forgot that old plantation

where good old Doctor Allison lived back there in Georgia long before

the War that brought us slaves the freedom.

I hear the slaves talking about mean masters when I was a boy. They

wasn't talking about Master Allison though, 'cause he was a good man

and took part for the slaves when any trouble come up with the

overseer.

The Mistress' name was Louisa (the same name as the gal I was married

to later after the War), and she was just about as mean as was the old

Master good. I was the house boy when I gets old enough to understand

what the Master wants done and I does it just like he says, so I

reckon that's why we always get along together.

The Master helped to raise my mammy. When I was born he says to her

(my mammy tells me when I gets older): "Cheney", the old Master say,

"that boy is going be different from these other children. I aims to

see that he is. He's going be in the house all the time, he ain't

going work in the fields; he's going to stay right with me all the

time."

They was about twenty slaves on the plantation but I was the one old

Master called for when he wanted something special for himself. I was

the one he took with him on the trips to town, I was the one who fetch

him the cooling drink after he look about the fields and sometimes I

carry the little black bag when he goes a-doctoring folks with the

misery away off some other farm.

The Master hear about there going be an auction one day and he

figgered maybe he needed some more slaves if they was good ones, so he

took me and started out early in the morning. It wasn't very far and

we got there early before the auction started. Rockon that was the

first time I ever see any slaves sold.

They was a long platform made of heavy planks and all the slaves was

lined up on the platform, and they was stripped to the waist, men,

women, and children. One or two of the women folks was bare naked.

They wasn't young women neither, just middle age ones, but they was

built good. Some of them was well greased and that grease covered up

many a scar they'd earned for some foolishment or other.

The Master don't buy none and pretty soon we starts home. The Master

was riding horseback,--he didn't ever use no buggy 'cause he said that

was the way for folks to travel who was too feeble to sit in the

saddle--and I rode back of him on another horse, but that horse I

rides is just horse while the Master's was a real thoroughbred like

maybe you see on race tracks down in the South.

That auction kept bothering me all the way back to the plantation. I

kept seeing them little children standing on the flatform (platform),

their mammy and pappy crying hard 'cause their young'uns is being

sold. They was a lot of heartaches even they was slaves and it gets me

worried.

I asked the Master is he going to have an auction and he jest laugh. I

ain't never sold no slaves yet and I ain't going to, he says. And I

gets easier right then. I kind of hates to think about standing up on

one of them platforms, kinder sorry to leave my old mammy and the

Master, so I was easy in the heart when he talked like that.

The plantation house was a big frame and the yard was shaded with

trees all around. The Master's children--four boys and two

girls--would play in the yard with me just like I was one of the

family. And we'd go hunting and fishing. There was a creek not far

away and they was good fishing in the stream and squirrels in the

trees. Mighty lot of fun to catch them fishes but more fun when they

is all fried brown and ready for to eat with a piece of hot pone.

Ain't no fish ever taste that good since!

One thing I sort of ponders about. The old Master don't let us have no

religion meetings and reading and writing is something I learn after

the War. Some of the slaves talk about meeting 'round the country and

wants to have preaching on the plantation. Master says NO. No preacher

around here to tell about the Bible and religion will be just a

puzzlement, the Master say, and we let it go at that. I reckon that

was the only thing he was set against.

That and the Yankees. The Master went to the War and stayed 'til it

was most over. He was a mighty sick man when he come back to the old

place, but I was there waiting for him just like always. All the time

he was away I take care around the house. That's what he say for me to

do when he rides away to fight the Yankees. Lot's of talk about the

War but the slaves goes right on working just the same, raising cotton

and tobacco.

The slaves talk a heap about Lincoln and some trys to run away to the

North. Don't hear much about Jeff Davis, mostly Lincoln. He give us

slaves the freedom but we was better off as we was.

The day of freedom come around just [HW: like] any other day, except

the Master say for me to bring up the horses, we is going to town.

That's when he hears about the slaves being free. We gets to the town

and the Master goes into the store. It's pretty early but the streets

was filled with folks talking and I wonder what makes the Master in

such a hurry when he comes out of the store.

He gets on his horse and tells me to follow fast. When we gets back to

the plantation he sounds the horn calling the slaves. They come in

from the fields and meet 'round back of the kitchen building that

stood separate from the Master's house. They all keeps quiet while the

Master talks: "You-all is free now, and all the rest of the slaves is

free too. Nobody owns you now and nobody going to own you anymore!"

That was good news, I reckon, but nobody know what to do about it.

The crops was mostly in and the Master wants the folks to stay 'til

the crop is finished. They talk about it the rest of that day. They

wasn't no celebration 'round the place, but they wasn't no work after

the Master tells us we is free. Nobody leave the place though. Not

'til in the fall when the work is through. Then some of us go into the

town and gets work 'cause everybody knows the Allison slaves was the

right kind of folks to have around.

That was the first money I earn and then I have to learn how to spend

it. That was the hardest part 'cause the prices was high and the wages

was low.

Then I moves on and meets the gal that maybe I been looking for,

Louisa Baker, and right away she takes to me and we is married. Ain't

been no other woman but her and she's waiting for me wherever the dead

waits for the living.

I reckon she won't have so long to wait now, even if I is feeling

pretty spry and got good use of the feets and hands. Ninety-eight

years brings a heap of wear and some of these days the old body'll

need a long time rest and then I'll join her for all the time.