Holt was my massa's name, dat why dey calls me Larnce Holt. My massa, he
come from Alabama but my mammy and daddy born in Texas. Mammy named
Hannah and daddy Elbert. Mammy cooked for de white folks but daddy, he
de shoemaker. Dat consider' a fine job on de plantation, 'cause he make
all de shoes de white folks uses for everyday and all de cullud people
shoes. Every time dey kill de beef dey save de hide for leather and dey
put it in de trough call de tan vat, with de oak bark and other things,
and leave 'em dere long time. Dat change de raw hide to leather. When de
shoe done us black dem with soot, 'cause us have to do dat or wear 'em
red. I's de little tike what help my daddy put on de soot.
"Massa have de big plantation and I 'member de big log house. It have de
gallery on both sides and dey's de long hall down de center. De dogs and
sometimes a possum used to run through de hall at night. De hall was big
'nough to dance in and I plays de fiddle.
"My mammy have four boys, call Eb and Ander and Tobe. My big brother Eb
he tote so many buckets of water to de hands in de field he wore all de
hair offen de top he head.
"I be so glad when Christmas come, when I's li'l. Down in de quarter us
hang up stocking and us have plenty homemake ginger cake and candy make
out of sugar and maybe a apple. One Christmas I real small and my mammy
buy me a suit of clothes in de store. I so proud of it I 'fraid to sit
down in it. 'Terials in dem day was strong and last a long time. One
time I git de first pair shoes from a store. I thought dey's gold. My
daddy bought dem for me and dey have a brace in de toe and was nat'ral
black.
"When freedom come us family breaks up. Old missy can't bear see my
mammy go, so us stay. Dey give my daddy a place on credick and he start
farm and dey even 'low him hosses and mule and other things he need. My
massa good to de niggers. I stays with my mammy till she die when I ten
year old and den my brother Eb he take me and raise me till I sixteen.
Den I go off for myself.
"Dem young year us have good time. I fiddle to de dance, play 'Git up in
de Cool,' and 'Hopus Creek and de Water.' Us sho' dress up for de dance.
I have black calico pants with red ribbon up de sides and a hickory
shirt. De gals all wears ribbons 'round de waist and one like it 'round
de head.
"Us have more hard time after freedom come dan in all de other time
together. Us livin' in trouble time. 'Bout 15 year ago I lost a leg, a
big log fall 'cross it when I makin' ties. I had plenty den but it go
for de hospital.
420120
[Illustration: Bill Homer]
BILL HOMER, 87, was born a slave on June 17, 1850, to Mr. Jack
Homer, who owned a large plantation near Shreveport, La. In 1860
Bill was given to Mr. Homer's daughter, who moved to Caldwell,
Texas. Bill now lives at 3215 McKinley Ave., Fort Worth, Texas.
"I is 87 years old, 'cause I is born on June 17th, in 1850, and that's
'cording to de statement my missy give me. I was born on Massa Jack
Homer's plantation, close to Shreveport. Him owned my mammy and my pappy
and 'bout 100 other slaves. Him's plantation was a big un. I don't know
how many acres him have, but it was miles long. Dere was so many
buildings and sheds on dat place it was a small town. De massa's house
was a big two-story building and dere was de spinnin' house, de
smokehouse, de blacksmith shop and a nursery for de cullud chillens and
a lot of sheds and sich. In de nigger quarters dere was 50 one-room
cabins and dey was ten in a row and dere was five rows.
"De cabins was built of logs and had dirt floors and a hole whar a
window should be and a stone fireplace for de cookin' and de heat. Dere
was a cookhouse for de big house and all de cookin' for de white folks
was 'tended to by four cooks. We has lots of food, too--cornmeal and
vegetables and milk and 'lassas and meat. For mos' de meat dey kotched
hawgs in de Miss'sippi River bottoms. Once a week, we have white flour
biscuit.
"Some work was hard and some easy, but massa don' 'lieve in overworkin'
his slaves. Sat'day afternoon and Sunday, dere was no work. Some
whippin' done, but mos' reasonable. If de nigger stubborn, deys whips
'nough for to change his mind. If de nigger runs on, dat calls de good
whippin's. If any of de cullud folks has de misery, dey lets him res' in
bed and if de misery bad de massa call de doctor.
"I larnt to be coachman and drive for massa's family. But in de year of
1860, Missy Mary gits married to Bill Johnson and at dat weddin' massa
Homer gives me and 49 other niggers to her for de weddin' present. Massa
Johnson's father gives him 50 niggers too. Dey has a gran' weddin'. I
helps take care of de hosses and dey jus' kep' a-comin'. I 'spect dere
was more'n 100 peoples dere and dey have lots of music and dancin' and
eats and, I 'spects, drinks, 'cause we'uns made peach brandy. You see,
de massa had his own still.
"After de weddin' was over, dey gives de couple de infare. Dere's whar
dis nigger comes in. I and de other niggers was lined up, all with de
clean clothes on and den de massa say, 'For to give my lovin' daughter
de start, I gives you dese 50 niggers. Massa Bill's father done de same
for his son, and dere we'uns was, 100 niggers with a new massa.
"Dey loads 15 or 20 wagons and starts for Texas. We travels from
daylight to dark, with mos' de niggers walkin'. Of course, it was hard,
but we enjoys de trip. Dere was one nigger called Monk and him knows a
song and larned it to us, like this:
"'Walk, walk, you nigger, walk!
De road am dusty, de road am tough,
Dust in de eye, dust in de tuft;
Dust in de mouth, yous can't talk--
Walk, you niggers, don't you balk.
"'Walk, walk, you nigger walk!
De road am dusty, de road am rough.
Walk 'til we reach dere, walk or bust--
De road am long, we be dere by and by.'
Now, we'uns was a-follerin' behin' de wagons and we'uns sings it to de
slow steps of de ox. We'uns don't sing it many times 'til de missy come
and sit in de back of de wagon, facin' we'uns and she begin to beat de
slow time and sing wid we'uns. Dat please Missy Mary to sing with us and
she laugh and laugh.
"After 'bout two weeks we comes to de place near Caldwell, in Texas, and
dere was buildin's and land cleared, so we's soon settled. Massa plants
mostly cotton and corn and clears more land. I larned to be a coachman,
but on dat place I de ox driver or uses de hoe.
"Yous never drive de ox, did yous? De mule ain't stubborn side of de ox,
de ox am stubborn and den some more. One time I's haulin' fence rails
and de oxen starts to turn gee when I wants dem to go ahead. I calls for
haw, but dey pays dis nigger no mind and keeps agwine gee. Den dey
starts to run and de overseer hollers and asks me, 'Whar you gwine?' I
hollers back, 'I's not gwine, I's bein' took.' Dem oxen takes me to de
well for de water, 'cause if dey gits dry and is near water, dey goes in
spite of de devil.
"De treatment from new massa am good, 'cause of Missy Mary. She say to
Massa Bill, 'if you mus' 'buse de nigger, 'buse yous own.' We has music
and parties. We plays de quill, make from willow stick when de sap am
up. Yous takes de stick and pounds de bark loose and slips it off, den
slit de wood in one end and down one side, puts holes in de bark and put
it back on de stick. De quill plays like de flute.
"I never goes out without de pass, so I never has trouble with de patter
rollers. Nigger Monk, him have de 'sperience with 'em. Dey kotched him
twice and dey sho' makes him hump and holler. After dat he gits pass or
stays to home.
"De War make no diff'runce with us, 'cept de soldiers comes and takes de
rations. But we'uns never goes hungry, 'cause de massa puts some niggers
hustlin' for wil' hawgs. After surrender, missy reads de paper and tells
dat we'uns is free, but dat we'uns kin stay 'til we is 'justed to de
change.
"De second year after de War, de massa sells de plantation and goes back
to Louisiana and den we'uns all lef'. I goes to Laredo for seven year
and works on a stock ranch, den I goes to farmin'. I gits married in
1879 to Mary Robinson and we'uns has 14 chilluns. Four of dem lives
here.
"I works hard all my life 'til 1935 and den I's too old. My wife and I
lives on de pensions we gits.
420234
[Illustration: Scott Hooper]
SCOTT HOOPER, 81, was born a slave of the Rev. Robert Turner, a
Baptist minister who owned seven slave families. They lived on a
small farm near Tenaha, then called Bucksnort, in Shelby County,
Texas. Scott's father was owned by Jack Hooper, a neighboring
farmer. Scott married Steve Hooper when she was thirteen and they
had eight children, whose whereabouts are now unknown to her. She
receives an $8.00 monthly pension.
"Well, I'll do de best I can to tell yous 'bout my life. I used to have
de good 'collection, but worryment 'bout ups and downs has 'fected my
'membance. I knows how old I is, 'cause mammy have it in de Bible, and
I's born in de year 1856, right in Shelby County, and near by Bucksnort,
what am call Tenaha now.
"Massa Turner am de bestest man he could be and taken good care of us,
for sho'. He treat us like humans. There am no whuppin's like some other
places has. Gosh. What some dem old slaves tell 'bout de whup and de
short rations and lots of hard work am awful, so us am lucky.
"Massa don't have de big place, but jus' seven families what was five to
ten in de family. My mammy had nine chillen, but my pappy didn't live on
us place, but on Jack Hooper's farm, what am four mile off. He comes
Wednesday and Saturday night to see us. His massa am good, too, and lets
him work a acre of land and all what he raises he can sell. Pappy plants
cotton and mostest de time he raises better'n half de bale to
he acre. Dat-a-way, he have money and he own pony
and saddle, and he brung us chillen candy and toys and coffee and tea
for mammy. He done save 'bout $500 when surrender come, but it am all
'Federate money and it ain't worth nothin'. He give it to us chillen to
play with.
"Massa Turner am de Baptist preacherman and he have de church at
Bucksnort. He run de store, too, and folks laughs 'cause 'sides being a
preacherman he sells whiskey in dat store. He makes it medicine for us,
with de cherry bark and de rust from iron nails in it. He call it,
'Bitters,' and it a good name. It sho' taste bitter as gall. When us
feels de misery it am bitters us gits. Castor oil am candy 'side dem
bitters!
"My grandmammy am de cook and all us eats in de shed. It am plenty food
and meat and 'lasses and brown sugar and milk and butter, and even some
white flour. Course, peas and beans am allus on dat table.
"When surrender come massa calls all us in de yard and makes de talk. He
tells us we's free and am awful sorry and show great worryment. He say
he hate to part with us and us been good to him, but it am de law. He
say us can stay and work de land on shares, but mostest left. Course,
mammy go to Massa Hooper's place to pappy and he rents land from Massa
Hooper, and us live there seven years and might yet, but dem Klu Klux
causes so much troublement. All us niggers 'fraid to sleep in de house
and goes to de woods at night. Pappy gits 'fraid something happen to us
and come to Fort Worth. Dat in 1872 and he farms over in de bottom.
"I's married to Steve Hooper den, 'cause us marry when I's thirteen
years old. He goes in teamin' in Fort Worth and hauls sand and gravel
twenty-nine years. He doin' sich when he dies in 1900. Den I does
laundry work till I's too old. I tries to buy dis house and does fair
till age catches me and now I can't pay for it. All I has is $8.00 de
month and I's glad to git dat, but it won't even buy food. On sich
'mount, there am no way to stinch myself and pinch off de payments on de
house. Dat am de worryment.
420021
[Illustration: Alice Houston (A)]
[Illustration: Alice Houston (B)]
ALICE HOUSTON, pioneer nurse and midwife on whom many San Angeloans
have relied for years, was born October 22, 1859. She was a slave
of Judge Jim Watkins on his small plantation in Hays County, near
San Marcos, Texas and served as house girl to her mistress, Mrs.
Lillie Watkins for many years after the Civil War. At Mrs. Watkins'
death she came with her husband, Jim Houston, to San Angelo, Texas
where she has continued her services as nurse to white families to
the present time.
Alice relates her slave day experiences as follows:
"I was jes' a little chile when dat Civil War broke out and I's had de
bes' white folks in de world. My ole mistress she train me for her
house girl and nurse maid. Dat's whar I's gits so many good ideas fer
nursin'.
"My mother's name was Mariah Watkins an' my father was named Henry
Watkins. He would go out in de woods on Sat'day nights and ketch
'possums and bring dem home and bake 'em wid taters. Dat was de best
eatin' we had. Course we had good food all de time but we jes' like dat
'possum best.
"My marster, he only have four families and he had a big garden fer all
of us. We had our huts at de back of de farm. Dey was made out of logs
and de cracks daubbed up wid mud. Dey was clean and comfortable though,
and we had good beds.
"When we was jes' little kids ole marster he ketch us a stealin'
watermelons and he say, 'Git! Git! Git! And when we runs and stoops over
to crawl through de crack of de fence he sho' give us a big spank. Den
we runs off cryin' and lookin' back like.
"Ole marster, he had lots of hogs and cows and chickens and I can jes'
taste dat clabber milk now. Ole miss, she have a big dishpan full of
clabber and she tells de girl to set dat down out in de yard and she
say, 'Give all dem chillun a spoon now and let dem eat dat.' When we all
git 'round dat pan we sho' would lick dat clabber up.
"We had straight slips made out of white lowell what was wove on dat ole
spinnin' wheel. Den dey make jeans for de men's breeches and dye it wid
copperas and some of de cloth dey dye wid sumac berries and hit was
sho' purty too.
"Ole miss, she make soda out of a certain kind of weed and dey makes
coffee out of dried sweet taters.
"My marster he didn' have no over-seer. He say his slaves had to be
treated right. He never 'lowed none of his slaves to be sold 'way from
their folks. I's nev'r, nev'r seen any slaves in chains but I's hear
talk of dem chains.
"My white folks, dey tries to teach us to read and spell and write some
and after ole marster move into town he lets us go to a real school.
That's how come I can read so many docto' books you see.
"We goes to church wid our white folks at dem camp meetin's and oh
Lawdy! Yes, mam, we all sho' did shout. Sometimes we jined de church
too.
"We washed our clothes on Sat'day and danced dat night.
"On Christmas and New Year we would have all de good things old marster
and ole missus had and when any of de white folks marry or die dey sho'
carry on big. Weddin's and funerals, dem was de biggest times.
"When we gits sick, ole marster he have de docto' right now. He sho' was
good 'bout dat. Ole miss she make us wear a piece of lead 'round our
necks fer de malaria and to keeps our nose from bleedin' and all of us
wore some asafoetida 'round our necks to keep off contagion.
"When de war close ole marster calls up all de slaves and he say, 'You's
all free people now, jes' same as I is, and you can go or stay,' and we
all wants to stay 'cause wasn't nothin' we knowed how to do only what
ole marster tells us. He say he let us work de land and give us half of
what we make, and we all stayed on several years until he died. We
stayed with Miss Watkins, and here I is an ole nigga, still adoin' good
in dis world, a-tellin' de white folks how to take care of de
chilluns."
420271
JOSEPHINE HOWARD was born in slavery on the Walton plantation near
Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She does not know her age, but when Mr. Walton
moved to Texas, before the Civil War, she was old enough to work in
the fields. Josephine is blind and very feeble. She lives with a
daughter at 1520 Arthur St., Houston, Texas.
"Lawd have mercy, I been here a thousand year, seems like. 'Course I
ain't been here so long, but it seems like it when I gits to thinkin'
back. It was long time since I was born, long 'fore de war. Mammy's name
was Leonora and she was cook for Marse Tim Walton what had de plantation
at Tuscaloosa. Dat am in Alabamy. Papa's name was Joe Tatum and he lived
on de place 'jinin' ourn. Course, papa and mamy wasn't married like
folks now, 'cause dem times de white folks jes' put slave men and women
together like hosses or cattle.
"Dey allus done tell us it am wrong to lie and steal, but why did de
white folks steal my mammy and her mammy? Dey lives clost to some water,
somewheres over in Africy, and de man come in a little boat to de sho'
and tell dem he got presents on de big boat. Most de men am out huntin'
and my mammy and her mammy gits took out to dat big boat and dey locks
dem in a black hole what mammy say so black you can't see nothin'. Dat
de sinfulles' stealin' dey is.
"De captain keep dem locked in dat black hole till dat boat gits to
Mobile and dey is put on de block and sold. Mammy is 'bout twelve year
old and dey am sold to Marse Tim, but grandma dies in a month and dey
puts her in de slave graveyard.
"Mammy am nuss gal till she git older and den cook, and den old Marse
Tim puts her and papa together and she has eight chillen. I reckon Marse
Tim warn't no wor'ser dan other white folks. De nigger driver sho' whip
us, with de reason and without de reason. You never knowed. If dey done
took de notion dey jes' lays it on you and you can't do nothin'.
"One mornin' we is all herded up and mammy am cryin' and say dey gwine
to Texas, but can't take papa. He don't 'long to dem. Dat de lastes'
time we ever seed papa. Us and de women am put in wagons but de men
slaves am chained together and has to walk.
"Marse Tim done git a big farm up by Marshall but only live a year dere
and his boys run de place. Dey jes' like dey papa, work us and work us.
Lawd have mercy, I hear dat call in de mornin' like it jes' jesterday,
'All right, everybody out, and you better git out iffen you don't want
to feel dat bullwhip 'cross you back.'
"My gal I lives with don't like me to talk 'bout dem times. She say it
ain't no more and it ain't good to think 'bout it. But when you has live
in slave times you ain't gwine forgit dem, no, suh! I's old and blind
and no 'count, but I's alive, but in slave times I'd be dead long time
ago, 'cause white folks didn't have no use for old niggers and git shet
of dem one way or t'other.
"It ain't till de sojers comes we is free. Dey wants us to git in de
pickin', so my folks and some more stays. Dey didn't know no place to go
to. Mammy done took sick and die and I hires out to cook for Missy
Howard, and marries her coachman, what am Woodson Howard. We farms and
comes to Houston nigh sixty year ago. Dey has mule cars den. Woodson
gits a job drayin' and 'fore he dies we raises three boys and seven
gals, but all 'cept two gals am dead now. Dey takes care of me, and dat
all I know 'bout myself.
420275
LIZZIE HUGHES, blind Negress of Harrison County, Texas, was born on
Christmas Day, 1848, a slave of Dr. Newton Fall, near Nacogdoches.
Lizzie married when she was eighteen and has lived near Marshall
since that time. She is cared for by a married daughter, who lives
on Lizzie's farm.
"My name am Lizzie Fall Hughes. I was borned on Christmas at Chireno,
'tween old Nacogdoches town and San Augustine. Dat eighty-nine year ago
in slavery time. My young master give me my age on a piece of paper when
I married but the rats cut it up.
"I 'longed to Dr. Fall and old Miss Nancy, his wife. They come from
Georgia. Papa was named Ed Wilson Fall and mammy was June. Dr. Newton
Fall had a big place at Chireno and a hundred slaves. They lived in li'l
houses round the edge of the field. We had everything we needed. Dr.
Newton run a store and was a big printer. He had a printin' house at
Chireno and 'nother in California.
"The land was red and they worked them big Missouri mules and sho'
raised somethin'. Master had fifty head of cows, too, and they was
plenty wild game. When master was gone he had a overseer, but tell him
not to whip. He didn't 'lieve in rushin' his niggers. All the white
folks at Chireno was good to they niggers. On Saturday night master give
all the men a jug of syrup and a sack of flour and a ham or middlin' and
the smokehouse was allus full of beef and pork. We had a good time on
that place and the niggers was happy. I 'member the men go out in the
mornin', singin':
"'I went to the barn with a shinin', bright moon,
I went to the wood a-huntin' a coon.
The coon spied me from a sugar maple tree,
Down went my gun and up the tree went me.
Nigger and coon come tumblin' down,
Give the hide to master to take off to town,
That coon was full of good old fat,
And master brung me a new beaver hat.'
"Part of 'nother song go like this:
"'Master say, you breath smell of brandy,
Nigger say, no, I's lick 'lasses candy.'
"When old master come to the lot and hear the men singin' like that, he
say, 'Them boys is lively this mornin', I's gwine git a big day's
plowin' done. They did, too, 'cause them big Missouri mules sho' tore up
that red land. Sometime they sing:
"'This ain't Christmas mornin', just a long summer day,
Hurry up, yellow boy and don't run 'way,
Grass in the cotton and weeds in the corn,
Get in the field, 'cause it soon be morn.'
"At night when the hands come in they didn't do nothin' but eat and cut
up round the quarters. They'd have a big ball in a big barn there on the
place and sixty and seventy on the floor at once, singin':
"'Juba this and Juba that,
Juba killed a yaller cat.
Juba this and Juba that,
Hold you partner where you at.'
"The whites preached to the niggers and the niggers preached to
theyselves. Gen'man sho' could preach good them times; everybody cried,
they preached so good. I's a mourner when I git free.
"I's big 'nough to work round the house when war starts, but not big
'nough to be studyin' 'bout marryin'. I's sho' sorry when we's sot
free. Old master didn't tell his niggers they free. He didn't want them
to go. On a day he's gone, two white men come and showed us a piece of
paper and say we's free now. One them men was a big mill man and told
mama he'll give her $12.00 a month and feed her seven li'l niggers if
she go cook for his millhands. Papa done die in slavery, so mama goes
with the man. I run off and hid under the house. I wouldn't leave till I
seed master. When he come home he say, 'Lizzie, why didn't you go?' I
say, 'I don't want to leave my preserves and light bread.' He let me
stay.
"Then I gits me a li'l man. He works for master in the store and I works
round the house. Master give me two dresses and a pair of shoes when I
married. We lived with him a year or two and then come to Marshall. My
husband worked on public work and I kept house for white folks and we
saved our money and buyed this li'l farm. My man's dead fourteen years
now and my gal and her husband keeps the farm goin'.
"Me and my man didn't have nothin' when we left Nacogdoches, but we
works hard and saves our money and buyed this farm. It 'pear like these
young niggers don't try to 'cumulate nothin'.
420226
[Illustration: Moses Hursey]
MOSE HURSEY believes he is about eighty-two years old. He was born
in slavery on a plantation in Louisiana, and was brought to Texas
by his parents after they were freed. Mose has been a preacher most
of his life, and now believes he is appointed by God to be "Head
Prophet of the World." He lives with his daughter at 1120 Tenth
St., Dallas, Texas.
"I was born somewhere in Louisiana, but can't rec'lect the place exact,
'cause I was such a little chap when we left there. But I heared my
mother and father say they belonged to Marse Morris, a fine gentleman,
with everything fine. He sold them to Marse Jim Boling, of Red River
County, in Texas. So they changes their name from Morris to Boling, Liza
Boling and Charlie Boling, they was. Marse Boling didn't buy my brother
and sister, so that made me the olderest child and the onliest one.
"The Bolings had a 'normous big house and a 'normous big piece of land.
The house was the finest I ever seen, white and two-story. He had about
sixty slaves, and he thought a powerful lot of my folks, 'cause they was
good workers. My mother, special, was a powerful 'ligious woman.
"We lived right well, considerin'. We had a little log house like the
rest of the niggers and I played round the place. Eatin' time come, my
mother brung a pot of peas or beans and cornbread or side meat. I had
'nother brother and sister comin' 'long then, and we had tin plates and
cups and knives and spoons, and allus sot to our food.
"We had 'nough of clothes, sich as they was. I wore shirttails out of
duckings till I was a big boy. All the little niggers wore shirttails.
My mother had fair to middlin' cotton dresses.