niggers,' not dat we was free, but 'cause we was well treated. Jesse
Todd, his place joined ours, had 500 slaves, and he treated 'em mighty
bad. He whipped some of 'em to death. A man sold him two big niggers
which was brothers and they was so near white you couldn' hardly tell
'em from a white man. Some people thought the man what sold 'em was
their daddy. The two niggers worked good and dey hadn' never been
whipped and dey wouldn' stand for bein' whipped. One mornin' Todd come
up to 'em and told de oldest to take his shirt off. He say, 'Marster,
what you wan' me to take my shirt off for?' Todd say, 'I told you to
take your shirt off.' De nigger say, 'Marster, I ain' never took my
shirt off for no man.' Todd run in de house and got his gun and come
back and shot de nigger dead. His brother fell down by him where he lay
on de groun'. Todd run back to load his gun again, it bein' a single
shot. Todd's wife and son grabbed him and dey had all dey coul' do to
keep him from comin' out and killin' de other nigger.
"Marse Johns had 12 chillen. De house dey lived in was Colonyal style
and had 12 rooms. I was bo'n in dat house.
"De slaves had log cabins. We wore some cotton clothes in de summer but
in de winter we wore wool clothes. We allus had shoes. A shoemaker would
come 'round once a year and stay maybe 30 days, makin' shoes for
everybody on de place; den in about 6 months he would come back and
half-sole and make other repairs to de shoes. We made all our clothes on
de place. We wove light wool cloth for summer and heavy for winter.
"I could take raw cotton and card and spin it on a spinnin' wheel into
thread, fine enough to be sewed with a needle. We woun' de thread on a
broche, make like and 'bout de size of a ice pick. De thread was den
woun' on a reel 'bout de size of a forewheel of a wagon, and de reel
would turn 48 times and den 'cluck'. Dat was for dem to be able to tell
we was workin'.
"Dere was plenty wild game, possums, rabbits, turkey and so on. Dere was
fish, too, in de creek. I was de leader of de bunch. We would ketch
little fish in de creek. We'd cook a lot of fish and den we'd put a rag
rug in de yard under a big mulberry tree and pour de fish out on dat and
den eat 'em.
"Old marster never beat his slaves and he didn' sell 'em. But some of de
owners did. If a owner had a big woman slave and she had a little man
for her husban' and de owner had a big man slave, dey would make de
little husban' leave, and make de woman let de big man be her husban',
so's dere be big chillen, which dey could sell well. If de man and woman
refused, dey'd get whipped.
"Course whippin' made a slave hard to sell, maybe couldn' be sold,
'cause when a man went to buy a slave he would make him strip naked and
look him over for whip marks and other blemish, jus' like dey would a
horse. But even if it done damage to de sale to whip him, dey done it,
'cause dey figgered, kill a nigger, breed another--kill a mule, buy
another.
"I'll never forget de rice patch. It shore got me some whippin's, 'cause
my daddy tell me to watch de birds 'way from dat rice, and sometimes
dey'd get to it. It jus' seem like de blackbirds jus' set 'round and
watched for dat rice to grow up where dey could get it. We would cut a
block off a pine tree and build a fire on it and burn it out. Den we
would cut down into it and scrape out all de char, and den put de rice
in dere and beat and poun' it with a pestle till we had all de grain
beat out de heads. Den we'd pour de rice out on a cloth and de chaff and
trash would blow away.
"Our marster he drilled men for de army. De drill groun' was 'bout a
mile from our place. He was a dead shot with a rifle and had a rifle
with an extry long barrel.
"De Yankees told us niggers when dey freed us after de war dat dey would
give each one of us 40 acres of land and a mule. De nearest I'se ever
come to dat is de pension of 'leven dollars I gets now. But I'se jus' as
thankful for dat as I can be. In fac', I don't see how I could be any
more thankful it 'twas a hun'erd and 'leven dollars.
"A man told me a nigger woman told his wife she would ruther be slave
than free. Well, I think, but I might be wrong, anybody which says that
is tellin a lie. Dere is sumpin' 'bout bein' free and dat makes up for
all de hardships. I'se been both slave and free and I knows. Course,
while I was slave I didn' have no 'sponsibility, didn' have to worry
'bout where sumpin' to eat and wear and a place to sleep was comin'
from, but dat don't make up for bein' free.
420191
AUNTIE THOMAS JOHNS, 508 Knopp St., Cleburne, Texas, was born in
Burleson Co., Texas, in 1864. She was only two when her mother was
freed, so knows nothing of slavery except stories her mother told
her, or that she heard her husband, Thomas Johns, tell.
"I was two years old when my mama was set free. Her owner was Major
Odom. He was good to his niggers, my mama said. She tol' me 'bout
slavery times. She said other white folks roun' there called Major
Odom's niggers, 'Odom's damn free niggers,' 'cause he was so easy on
'em.
"He was never married, but he had a nigger woman, Aunt Phyllis she was
called, that he had some children by. She was half white. I remember her
and him and five of their sons. The ones I knowed was nearly all white,
but Aunt Phyllis had one boy that was nigger black. His daddy was a
nigger man. When she was drunk or mad she'd say she thought more of her
black chile than all the others. Major Odom treated their children jus'
like he treated the other niggers. He never whipped none of his niggers.
When his and Aunt Phyllis'es sons was grown they went to live in the
quarters, which was what the place the niggers lived was called.
"One of Major Odom's niggers was whipped by a man named Steve Owens. He
got to goin' to see a nigger woman Owens owned, and one night they beat
him up bad. Major Odom put on his gun for Owens, and they carried guns
for each other till they died, but they never did have a shootin'.
"Colonel Sims had a farm joinin' Major Odom's farm, and his niggers was
treated mean. He had a overseer, J.B. Mullinax, I 'member him, and he
was big and tough. He whipped a nigger man to death. He would come out
of a mornin' and give a long, keen yell, and say, 'I'm J.B. Mullinax,
just back from a week in Hell, where I got two new eyes, one named Snap
and Jack, and t'other Take Hold. I'm goin' to whip two or three niggers
to death today.' He lived a long time, but long 'fore he died his eyes
turned backward in his head. I seen 'em thataway. He wouldn' give his
niggers much to eat and he'd make 'em work all day, and just give 'em
boiled peas with just water and no salt and cornbread. They'd eat their
lunch right out in the hot sun and then go right back to work. Mama said
she could hear them niggers bein' whipped at night and yellin', 'Pray,
marster, pray,' beggin' him not to beat 'em.
"Other niggers would run away and come to Major Odom's place and ask his
niggers for sumpin' to eat. My mama would get word to bring 'em food and
she'd start out to where they was hidin' and she'd hear the hounds, and
the runaway niggers would have to go on without gettin' nothin' to eat.
"My husban's tol' me about slavery times in Alabama. He said they would
make the niggers work hard all day pickin' cotton and then take it to
the gin and gin away into the night, maybe all night. They'd give a
nigger on Sunday a peck of meal and three pounds of meat and no salt nor
nothin' else, and if you et that up 'fore the week was out, you jus'
done without anything to eat till the end of the week.
"My husban' said a family named Gullendin was mighty hard on their
niggers. He said ole Missus Gullendin, she'd take a needle and stick it
through one of the nigger women's lower lips and pin it to the bosom of
her dress, and the woman would go 'round all day with her head drew down
thataway and slobberin'. There was knots on the nigger's lip where the
needle had been stuck in it.
420911
[Illustration: Gus Johnson]
GUS JOHNSON, 90 years or more, was born a slave of Mrs. Betty
Glover, in Marengo Co., Alabama. Most of his memories are of his
later boyhood in Sunnyside, Texas. He lives in an unkempt, little
lean-to house, in the north end of Beaumont, Texas. There is no
furniture but a broken-down bed and an equally dilapidated trunk
and stove. Gus spends most of his time in the yard, working in his
vegetable garden.
"Dey brung thirty-six of us here in a box car from Alabama. Yes, suh,
dat's where I come from--Marengo County, not so far from 'Mopolis. Us
belong to old missy Betty Glover and my daddy name August Glover and my
mammy Lucinda. Old missy, she sho' treat us good and I never git whip
for anything 'cept lyin'. Old missy, she do de whippin'.
"Old missy she sho' a good woman and all her white folks, dey used to go
to church at White Chapel at 'leven in de mornin'. Us cullud folks goes
in de evenin'. Us never do no work on Sunday, and on Saturday after
twelve o'clock us can go fishin' or huntin'.
"Dey give de rations on Saturday and dat's 'bout five pound salt bacon
and a peck of meal and some sorghum syrup. Dey make dat syrup on de
plantation. Dey's ten or twelve big clay kettles in a row, sot in de
furnace.
"We have lots to eat, and if de rations run short we goes huntin' or
fishin'. Some de old men kills rattlesnake and cook 'em like fish and
say dey fish. I eat dat many a time and never knowed it. 'Twas good,
too.
"Dey used to have a big house where dey kep' de chillen, 'cause de
wolves and panthers was bad. Some de mammies what suckle de chillen
takes care of all de chillen durin' de daytime and at night dey own
mammies come in from de field and take dem. Sometime old missy she help
nuss and all de li'l niggers well care for. When dey gits sick dey makes
de med'cine of herbs and well 'em dat way.
"When us left Alabama us come through Meridian to Houston and den to
Hockley and den to Sunnyside, 'bout 18 mile west of Houston. Dat a
country with lots of woods and us sot in to clean up de ground and clean
up 150 acres to farm on. Dere 'bout forty-seven hands and more
'cumulates. Dey go back to Meridian for more and brung 'em in a ox cart.
"My brother, Bonzane Johnson, was one dey brung on dat trip. I had
'nother brother, Keen, what die when he 102 year old. Us was all
long-life people, 'cause I have a gran' uncle what die when he 136 year
old. He and my grandma and grandpa come from South Carolina and dey was
all Africa people. I heered dem tell how dey brung from Africa in de
ship. My daddy he die at 99 and 'nother brother at 104.
"Us see lots of sojers when us come through from Meridian and dey de
cavalry. Dey come ridin' up with high hats like beavers on dey head and
us 'fraid of 'em, 'cause dey told us dey gwine take us to Cuba and sell
us dere.
"When us first git to Texas it was cold--not sort a cold, but I mean
cold. I shovel de snow many a day. Dey have de big, common house and de
white folks live upstairs and de niggers sleep on de first floor. Dat to
'tect de white folks at night, but us have our own houses for to live in
in de daytime, builded out of logs and daubed with mud and nail rive
out boards over dat mud. Dey make de chimney out of sticks and mud, too
but us have no windows, and in summer us kind of live out in de bresh
arbor, what was cool.
"Us have all kind of crops and more'n 100 acres in fruit, 'cause dey
brung all kind trees and seeds from Alabama. Dey was undergroun' springs
and de water was sho' good to drink, 'cause in Mobile de water wasn't
fitten to drink. It taste like it have de lump of salt melted in it. Us
keep de butter and milk in de spring house in dem days, 'cause us ain't
have no ice in dem time.
"Old massa, he name Adam and he brother name John, and dey was way up
yonder tall people. Old massa die soon and us have missy to say what we
do. All her overseers have to be good. She punish de slaves iffen day
bad, but not whip 'em. She have de jail builded undergroun' like de
stormcave and it have a drop door with de weight on it, so dey couldn't
git up from de bottom. It sho' was dark in dat place.
"In slavery time us better be in by eight o'clock, better be in dat
house, better stick to dat rule. I 'member after freedom, missy have de
big celebration on Juneteenth every year. [Handwritten Note: '?']
"When war come to Texas every plantation was conscrip' for de war and my
daddy was 'pinted to selec' de able body men offen us place for to be
sojers. My brother Keen was one of dem. He come back all right, though.
"When freedom come missy give all de men niggers $500 each, but dat
'federate money and have pictures of hosses on it. Dat de onlies' money
missy have den. Old missy Betty, she die in Sunnyside, Texas, when she
115 year old.
"When I's 18 year old I marry a gal by name Lucy Johnson. She dead now
long ago. I got five livin' chillen somewhere, but I done lost track of
'em. One of dem boys serve in de last war.
"I used to hear somethin' 'bout rabbit foot. De old folks used to say
dat iffen de rabbit have time to stop and lick he foot de dog can't
track him no more and I allus wears de rabbit foot for good luck. I
don't know if it brung me dat luck, though.
"I been here 36 year and I work mos' de time as house mover, what I work
at 26 year. I'll be honnes' with you, I don't know how old I is, but it
mus' be plenty, 'cause I 'members lots 'bout de war. I didn't see no
fightin' but I knowed what was goin' on den.
"I belong to de U. B. F. Lodge, what I pays into in case I gits sick.
But I never can git sick and I ain't have no ailment 'cept my feets jus'
swoll up, and I can't git nothin' for that.
420139
HARRY JOHNSON, 86, whose real name was Jim, was born in Missouri,
where he was stolen by Harry Fugot, when about twelve years old,
and taken to Arkansas. He was given the name of Harry and remained
with Fugot until near the close of the Civil War. Fugot then sold
him to Graham for 1,200 acres and he was brought to Coryell Co.,
Texas, and later to Caldwell Co. He worked in Texas two years
before finding out the slaves were free. He later went to McMullen
Co. to work cattle, but eventually spent most of his time rearing
ten white children. He now lives in Pearsall, where he married at
the age of 59.
"I come from Missouri to Arkansas and then to Texas, and I was owned by
Massa Louis Barker and my name was Jim Johnson. But a white man name
Harry Fugot stoled me and run me out to Arkansas and changed my name to
Harry. He stoled me from Mississippi County in de southern part of
Missouri, down close to de Arkansas line, and I was 'bout 12 year old
then.
"My mama's name was Judie and her husban' name Miller. When I wasn't big
'nough to pack a chip, old Massa Louis Barker wouldn't take $400 for me,
'cause he say he wants to make a overseer out of me. My daddy went off
durin' de war. He carried off by sojers and he never did come back.
"Dey 'bout 30, 40 acres in Massa Barker's plantation in Missouri. He
used to hire me out from place to place and de men what hires me puts me
to doin' what he wanted. I was stole from my mammy when I's 'bout 10 or
12 and she never did know what become of me.
"O, my stars! I seed hun'erds and hun'erds of sojers 'fore I stole from
Missouri. Dey what us call Yankees. I seed 'em strung out a half-mile
long, goin' battle two and three deep. Dey never did destroy any homes.
Dey took up a little stuff. I had five sacks of meal one day and was
goin' to de mill and de sojers come along and taken me, meal and all. De
maddes' woman I ever saw was dat day. De sojers come and druv off her
cows. She told 'em not to, dat her husban' fightin' and she have to make
de livin' off dem cows, but dey druv de cows to camp and kilt 'bout
three of 'em. Dey done dat, I knows, 'cause I's with 'em.
"But down in Arkansas I seed de southern sojers and I's plowin' for a
old lady call Williams, and some sojers come and goes in de house. I
heered say dey was Green's men, and dey taken everything dat old woman
have what dey wants, and dey robs lots of houses.
"It don't look reas'able to say it, but it's a fac'--durin' slavery
iffen you lived one place and your mammy lived 'cross de street you
couldn't go to see her without a pass. De paddlerollers would whip you
if you did. Dere was one woman owns some slaves and one of 'em asks her
for a pass and she give him de piece of paper sposed to be de pass, but
she writes on it:
"'His shirt am rough and his back am tough,
Do, pray, Mr. Paddleroller, give 'im 'nough.'
"De paddlerollers beat him nearly to death, 'cause that's what's wrote
on de paper he give 'em.
"I 'member a whippin' one slave got. It were 100 lashes. Dey's a big
overseer right here on de San Marcos river, Clem Polk, him and he massa
kilt 16 niggers in one day. Dat massa couldn't keep a overseer, 'cause
de niggers wouldn't let 'em whip 'em, and dis Clem, he say, 'I'll stay
dere,' and he finds he couldn't whip dem niggers either, so he jus'
kilt 'em. One nigger nearly got him and would have kilt him. Dat nigger
raise de ax to come down on Polk's head and de massa stopped him jus' in
time, and den Polk shoots dat nigger in de breast with a shotgun.
"Dey had court days and when court met, dey passed a bill what say,
'Keep de niggers at home.' Some of 'em could go to church and some of
'em couldn't. Dey'd let de cullud people be baptized, but dey didn't
many want it, dey didn't understan' it 'nough.
"After de war ends, Massa Fugot sells me to Massa Graham for 1,200 acres
of land, and I lives in Caldwell County. He was purty good to he slaves
and we live in a li'l old frame house, facin' west. I sleeps in de same
house as massa and missus, to guard 'em. One night some men came and
wake me up and tells me to put my clothes on. Missus was in de bed and
she 'gin cryin' and tell 'em not to take me, but dey taken me anyway. We
called 'em Guerrillas and dey thieves. Dey white men and one of 'em I
had knowed a long time. I's with dem thives and hears 'em talk 'bout
killin' Yankees. Dey kep' me in de south part of Missouri a long time. I
didn't do anything but sit 'round de house with dem.
"When I's sold to Massa Graham I didn't have to come to Texas, 'cause
I's free, but I didn't know dat, and I's out here two years 'fore I
knowed I's free. Down in Caldwell County is where de bondage was lifted
offen me and I found out I's free. I jus' stays on and works and my
massa give me he promise I's git a hoss and saddle and $100 in money
when I's 21 year old, but he didn't do it. He give me a li'l pony and a
saddle what I sold for $3.00 and 'bout eight or nine dollars in money.
He had me blindfolded and I thought I gwine git a good hoss and saddle
and more money.
"I looks back sometimes and thinks times was better for eatin' in
slavery dan what dey is now. My mammy was a reg'lar cook and she made me
peach cobblers and apple dumplin's. In dem days, we'd take cornmeal and
mix it with water and call 'em corn dodgers and dey awful nice with
plenty butter. We had lots of hawg meat and when dey kilt a beef a man
told all de neighbors to come git some of de meat.
"Right after de war, times is pretty hard and I's taken beans and
parched 'em and got 'em right brown, and meal bran to make coffee out
of. Times was purty hard, but I allus could find somethin' to work at in
dem days.
"I lived all my life 'mong white folks and jus' worked in first one
place and then 'nother. I raised ten white chillen, nine of de Lowe
chillen, and dey'd mind me quicker dan dey own pappy and mammy. Dat in
McMullin County.
"De day I's married I's 59 year old and my wife is 'bout 60 year old
now. De last 20 years I's jus' piddled 'round and done no reg'lar work.
I married right here in de church house. I nussed my wife when she a
baby and used to court her mammy when she's a girl. We's been real happy
together.
420928
[Illustration: James D. Johnson]
JAMES D. JOHNSON, born Oct. 1st, 1860, at Lexington, Mississippi,
was a slave of Judge Drennon. He now lives with his daughter at
4527 Baltimore St., Dallas, Texas. His memory is poor and his
conversation is vague and wandering. His daughter says, "He ain't
at himself these days." James attended Tuckaloo University, near
Jackson, Mississippi, and uses very little dialect.
"My first clear recollection is about a day when I was five years old. I
was playing in the sand by the side of the house in Lexington with some
other children and some Yankee soldiers came by. They came on horseback
and they drew rein by the side of the house and I ran under the house
and hid. My mother called to me to come out and told me they were
Federal soldiers and I could tell it by their blue uniforms. One of the
soldiers reached into his haversack and pulled out a uniform and gave it
to me. 'Have your mammy make a suit out of it,' he said. Another soldier
gave me a uniform and my mother was a seamstress in the home of the
Drennons and she made me two suits out of those uniforms.
"Judge Drennon had married the daughter of Colonel Terry and he had
given my parents to his daughter when she married the judge. My father
and mother both came from Virginia. Colonel Terry had bought them at
separate times from a slave trader who brought them from Virginia to
Mississippi. They had a likeness for each other when they learned both
came from Virginia. Both of them had white fathers, were light
complected and had been brought up in the big house.
"When they told the Colonel they wished to marry he only said, 'Julia,
do you take William,' and 'William, do you take Julia?' Then they were
man and wife. He gave them the name of Johnson, which was the family
name of my father's mother and the name of his father.
"When my parents lived with Judge Drennon they had a house in the yard
quarters. The Drennon home was the most beautiful house I ever have
seen. It was a big, brick mansion with tall, white pillars reaching up
to the second story. The yards and grounds were so beautiful the white
folks used to come from long ways off to see them.
"After the surrendering we lived with the Drennons four or five years.
They paid my parents for their work and I had an easy time of it. I was
youngest of eight children and there was ten years or more between me
and the next older child. My mother wanted to make something special out
of me.
"I went to three different schools down in the woods before I was nine.
White people would come and put up schools for the colored children but
the white people in Mississippi said they were not good people and would
criticize them. Sometimes the schools would get busted up. We studied
out of the Blue Back speller and an arithmetic and a dictionary. I could
spell and give the meaning of most nigh every word in that dictionary.
"When I was thirteen they held an examination at Lexington for colored
children to see who'd get a scholarship at Tuckaloo University, eight
miles from Jackson. I was greatly surprised when I won from my county
and I went but didn't finish there. Then I went a little while to a
small university near Lexington, called Allcorn University. I loved to
go to school and was considered bookish. But my people died and I had to
earn a living for myself and I couldn't find any way to use so much what
I learned out of books, as far as making money was concerned. So I came
to Texas, doing any kind of labor work I could find. Finally I married
and went to farming 35 or 40 years and raised five children.
"I'm the only one left now of my brothers and sisters and it won't be
long until I'm gone, too, but I don't mind that. We lived a long time.
Some of it was hard and some of it was good. I tried all the time to
live according to my lights and that is as far as I know how to do. I
don't feel resentful of anything, anymore.
"When there is sun, I just sit in the sun."
420132
MARY JOHNSON does not know her age but is evidently very old.
Paralytic strokes have affected mind and body. Her speech, though
impaired, is a swift flow of words, often profane. A bitter
attitude toward everything is apparent. Mary is homeless and owes
the necessities of life to the kindness of a middle aged Negress
who takes care of several old women in her home in Pear Orchard, in
Beaumont, Texas.
"Now, wait, white folks, I got to scratch my head so's I kin 'member.
I's been paralyze so I can't git my tongue to speak good. It git all
twist up.
"I don't know how old I is. My daddy he have my age in the big Bible but
he done move 'round so much it git lost long ago. He used to 'long to
them Guinea men. Them was real small men and they sho' walk fast. He
wasn't so tall as my mommer and he name John Allen and he a pore man,
all bone. He sold out from the old country, that Mississippi. My mama
name Sarah and she come from Choctaw country, 'round in Georgia. I have
grandma Rebecca, a reg'lar old Indian woman and she have two long black
braid longer'n her waist and she allus wore a big bonnet with splits in
it. You know de Indian people totes they chillens on they back and my
mommer have me wrop up in a blanket and strop on her back.
"I's the firstborn chile and my mommer have two gal chillen, me and
Hannah, and she have seven boy. Where I's born was old wild country and
old Virginny run down thataway. Everything was plenty good to eat and I
seed strawberries what would push you to git 'em in your mouth.