people to tame 'em and they have big pens where they puts 'em after
they takes 'em outta they gun ships. They sho' was wild and they have
hair all over jus' like a dog and big hammer rings in they noses. They
didn't wore no clothes and sometime they git 'way and run to them swamps
in Floridy and git all wild and hairy 'gain. They brung preachers to
help tame 'em, but didn't 'low no preacher in them pens by hisself,
'cause they say them preacher won't come back, 'cause some them wild
Africy people done kill 'em and eat 'em. They done worship them snake
bit as a rake handle, 'cause they ain't knowed no better. When they gits
'em all tame they sells 'em for field hands, but they allus wild and
iffen anybody come they duck and hide down.
"My old missy she name Florence Walker and she reg'lar tough. I helps
nuss her chile, Mary, and Mary make her mommer be good to me. Us wore
li'l brass toe shoes and I call mine gold toe shoes. Them shoes hard
'nough to knock a mule out. After young missy and me git growed us run
off to dances and old missy beat us behind good. She say us jes' chillen
yet and keep us in short, short dress and we pull out the stitchin' in
them hems so us dresses drags and she sho' wore us out for that.
"Did us love to dance? Jesus help me! Them country niggers swing me so
hard us land in the corner with a wham.
"My brudder Robert he a pow'ful big boy and he wasn't 'lowed to have no
pants till he 21 year old, but that didn't 'scourage him from courtin'
the gals. I try tease him 'bout go see the gals with dat split shirt.
That not all, that boy nuss he mommer breast till he 21 year old. He
have to have that nussin' real reg'lar. But one time he pesterin' mommer
and she tryin' milk the cow and the cow git nervous and kick over the
bucket and mommer fall off the stool and she so mad she wean him right
there and then.
"Old massa he never clean hisself up or dress up. He look like a vagrant
thing and he and missy mean, too. My pore daddy he back allus done cut
up from the whip and bit by the dogs. Sometime when a woman big they
make a hollow out place for her stomach and make her lay down 'cross
that hole and whip her behind. They sho' tear that thing up.
"Us chillen git to play and us sing
"'Old possum in the holler log
Sing high de loo,
Fatter than a old green frog,
Sing high de loo,
Whar possum?
"That church they have a 'markable thing. They a deep tranch what cut
all 'round the bottom and clay steps what lead all the way to the top
the mountain and when the niggers git to shoutin' that church jes'
a-rollin' and rockin'. One the songs I 'member was
"'Shoo the devil out the corner,
Shoo, members, shoo,
Shoo the devil out the corner,
Shoo, members, shoo.'
"Us li'l gals allus wore cottanade dresses ev'ry day. Them what us call
nine-stitch dresses. Mammy make fasten-back dresses and fasten-back
drawers and knit sweaters and socks for the mens. She git sheep wool
what near ruint by cockle burrs and make us chillen set by the hour and
pick out them burrs.
"Us houses like chicken coops but us sho' happy in that li'l cabin
house. Nothin' to worry 'bout. Mammy cook them grits, that yaller
hominy. She make 'ash cat', cornbread wrop in cabbage leaf and put ashes
'round it.
"The old plantation 'bout on the line 'tween Virginny and Mis'sippi and
us live near the Madstone. That a big stone, all smooth and when a dog
bite you you go run 'round the Madstone and wash yourself in the hot
springs and the bites don't hurt you.
"I seed lots of sojers and my daddy fit with the Yankees and they have a
big fight close there and have a while lots of dead bodies layin' 'round
like so many logs and they jus' stack 'em up and sot fire to 'em. You
seed 'em burnin' night and day. They lay down and shoot and then jump up
and stick 'em and sometimes they drunk the blood outten where they stick
'em, 'cause they can't git no water.
"After freedom us go in ox team to New Orleans and daddy he raise cotton
and sell it and mommer sell eggs. My daddy a workin' man and he help
build the big custom house in New Orleans and help pull the rope to pull
the boats up the canal from the river. That Canal Street now. He put he
name on top that custom house and it there to this day. You can go there
and see it. He help build the hosp'tal, too.
"One time us live close to the bay and that gran' and us take a stove
and cotch catfish and perch and cook 'em on the bank and us go meet
oyster boats and daddy git 'em by the tub.
"I git marry in Baton Rouge when I sixteen and my husban' he name Arras
Shaw and he lots older'n me and I couldn't keep him. He in Port Arthur
now. My husban' and I sawmill 20 year in Grayburg, here in Texas, and
then us sep'rate. I been in Beaumont 16 year and I's rice farm cook in
the camp on the Fannett Road. They tells me I got uncles in Africy. I
goes to Sanctified church and that all I can do now.
420050
[Illustration: Mary Ellen Johnson]
MARY ELLEN JOHNSON, owner of a little restaurant at 1301 Marilla
St., Dallas, Texas, is 77 years old. She was born in slavery to the
Murth family, about ten miles from San Marcos, Texas. She neither
reads nor writes but talks with little dialect.
"I don't know so fur back as befo' I was born, 'cept what my mammy told
me, and she allus said little black chillen wasn't sposed to ask so many
questions. Her name was Missouri Ellison, 'cause she belonged to Miss
Micelder Ellison and then when she married with Mr. Murth, her daddy
said my mammy was her 'heritance.
"My first mem'ries are us playin' in the backyard with Miss Fannie and
Miss Martha and Mr. Sammie. They was the little Murth chillen. We used
to make playhouses out there and sweep the ground clean down to the
level with brush brooms and dec'rate it all up with little broken
glasses and crockery.
"In them days we lived in a little, old log cabin in the backyard and
there was just one room, but it was snug and we had a plenty of livin'.
My mammy had a nice cotton bed and she weren't no field nigger, but my
pappy were.
"Miss Micelder had a fine farm and raised most everything we ate and the
food nowadays ain't like what it was then. Miss Micelder had a wood
frame house with a big kitchen and they were cookin' goin' on all the
time. They cooked on a wood stove with iron pots and skillets, and the
roastin' ears and chicken fried right out of your own yard is tastier
than what you git now. Grated 'tater puddin' was my dish.
"When I am seven years old I hear talk 'bout a war and the separation
but I don't pay much 'tention. It seem far away and I don't bother my
kinky head 'bout it. But then they tells eme [typo: me] the war is over
and I'm goin' to be raised free and that I don't 'long to anybody but
Gawd and my pappy and mammy, but it don't make me feel nothin', 'cause I
ain't never know I ain't free.
"After the war we removed to a house on a hill where they is five
houses, little log houses all in a row. We had good times, but we had to
work in the cotton and corn and wheat in the daylight time, but when the
dusk come we used to sing and dance and play into the moonlight.
"But one man called Milton, he's past his yearling boy days and he
didn't like to see us spend our time in sin, so he'd preach to us from
the Gospel, but I had the hardest time to get 'ligion of anybody I
knowed. Fin'ly I got sick when I were fifteen and was in my bed and
somethin' happened. Lawd, it was the most 'lievable thing ever happened
to me. I was layin' there when sin formed a heavy, white veil just like
a blanket over my bed and it just eased down over me till it was mashing
the breath out of me. I crys out to the Lawd to save me and, sho'
'nough, He hear the cry of a pore mis'able sinner. I ran to my mammy and
pappy a-shoutin'.
"The next year I marries and went on 'nother farm right near by and
starts havin' chillen. I has ten and think I done rightly my part,
'cause I lived right by the word and taught my chillen the same. I'm
lookin' to the promise to live in Glory after my days here is done.
420115
[Illustration: Pauline Johnson and Felice Boudreaux]
PAULINE JOHNSON and FELICE BOUDREAUX, sisters, were once slaves on
the plantation of Dermat Martine, near Opelousas, Louisiana. As
their owners were French, they are more inclined to use a Creole
patois than English.
"Us was both slaves on de old plantation close to Opelousas," Pauline
began. As the elder of the two sisters she carried most of the
conversation, although often referring to Felice before making positive
statements.
"I was 12 year old when freedom come and Felice was 'bout six. Us
belonged to Massa Dermat Martine and the missy's name Mimi. They raise
us both in the house and they love us so they spoil us. I never will
forget that. The little white chillen was younger than me, 'bout
Felice's age. They sho' had pretty li'l curly black hair.
"Us didn't have hard time. Never even knowed hard time. That old massa,
he what you call a good man.
"Us daddy was Renee and he work in the field. The old massa give him a
mud and log house and a plot of ground for he own. The rain sho' never
get in that log house, it so tight. The furniture was homemake, but my
daddy make it good and stout.
"Us daddy he work de ground he own on Sunday and sold the things to buy
us shoes to put on us feet and clothes. The white folks didn't give us
clothes but they let him have all the money he made in his own plot to
get them.
"Us mama name Marguerite and she a field hand, too, so us chillen growed
up in the white folks house mostly. 'Fore Felice get big enough to leave
I stay in the big house and take care of her.
"One day us papa fall sick in the bed, just 'fore freedom, and he kep'
callin' for the priest. Old massa call the priest and just 'fore us papa
die the priest marry him and my mama. 'fore dat they just married by the
massa's word.
"Felice and me, us have two brothers what was born and die in slavery,
and one sister still livin' in Bolivar now. Us three uncles, Bruno and
Pophrey and Zaphrey, they goes to the war. Them three dies too young.
The Yankees stole them and make them boys fight for them.
"I never done much work but wash the dishes. They wasn't poor people and
they uses good dishes. The missy real particular 'bout us shinin' them
dishes nice, and the silver spoons and knives, too.
"Them white people was good Christian people and they christen us both
in the old brick Catholic church in Opelousas. They done torn it down
now. Missy give me pretty dress to get christen in. My godmother, she
Mileen Nesaseau, but I call her 'Miran'. My godfather called 'Paran.'
"On Sunday mornin' us fix our dress and hair and go up to the missy's
looking-glass to see if us pretty enough go to church. Us goes to Mass
every Sunday mornin' and church holiday, and when the cullud folks sick
massa send for the priest same's for the white folks.
"We wears them things on the strings round the neck for the good of the
heart. They's nutmeg.
"The plantation was a big, grand place and they have lots of orange
trees. The slaves pick them oranges and pack then down on the barrel
with la mosse (Spanish moss) to keep them. They was plenty pecans and
figs, too.
"In slavery time most everybody round Opelousas talk Creole. That make
the words hard to come sometime. Us both talk that better way than
English.
"Durin' the war, it were a sight. Every mornin' Capt. Jenerette Bank and
he men go a hoss-back drillin' in the pasture and then have drill on
foot. A white lady take all us chillen to the drill ground every
mornin'. Us take the lunch food in the basket and stay till they done
drill out.
"I can sing for you the song they used to sing:
"O, de Yankee come to put de nigger free,
Says I, says I, pas bonne;
In eighteen-sixty-three,
De Yankee get out they gun and say,
Hurrah! Let's put on the ball.
"When war over none the slaves wants leave the plantation. My mama and
us chillen stays on till old massa and missy dies, and then goes live on
the old Repridim place for a time.
"Both us get marry in that Catholic church in Opelousas. As for me, it
most too long ago to talk about. His name Alfred Johnson and he dead 12
years. Our youngest boy, John, go to the World War. Two my nephews die
in that war and one nephew can't walk now from that war.
"Felice marry Joseph Boudreaux and when he die she come here to stay
with me. There's more hard time now than in the old day for us, but I
hope things get better.
420103
[Illustration: Spence Johnson]
SPENCE JOHNSON was born free, a member of the Choctaw Nation, in
the Indian Territory, in the 1850's. He does not know his exact
age. He and his mother were stolen and sold at auction in
Shreveport to Riley Surratt, who lived near Shreveport, on the
Texas-Louisiana line. He has lived in Waco since 1874.
"De nigger stealers done stole me and my mammy out'n de Choctaw Nation,
up in de Indian Territory, when I was 'bout three years old. Brudder
Knox, Sis Hannah, and my mammy and her two step-chillun was down on de
river washin'. De nigger stealers driv up in a big carriage and mammy
jus' thought nothin', 'cause the road was near dere and people goin' on
de road stopped to water de horses and res' awhile in de shade. By'n by,
a man coaxes de two bigges' chillun to de carriage and give dem some
kind-a candy. Other chillun sees dis and goes, too. Two other men was
walkin' 'round smokin' and gettin' closer to mammy all de time. When he
kin, de man in de carriage got de two big step-chillun in with him and
me and sis' clumb in too, to see how come. Den de man holler, 'Git de
ole one and let's git from here.' With dat de two big men grab mammy and
she fought and screeched and bit and cry, but dey hit her on de head
with something and drug her in, and throwed her on de floor. De big
chilluns begin to fight for mammy, but one of de men hit 'em hard and
off dey driv, with de horses under whip.
"Dis was near a place called Boggy Depot. Dey went down de Red Ribber,
'cross de ribber and on down in Louisian to Shreveport. Down in Louisan
us was put on what dey call de 'block' and sol' to de highes' bidder. My
mammy and her three chillun brung $3,000 flat. De step chillun was sol'
to somebody else, but us was bought by Marse Riley Surratt. He was de
daddy of Jedge Marshall Surratt, him who got to be jedge here in Waco.
"Marse Riley Surratt had a big plantation; don't know how many acres,
but dere was a factory and gins and big houses and lots of nigger
quarters. De house was right on de Tex-Louisan line. Mammy cooked for
'em. When Marse Riley bought her, she couldn' speak nothin' but de
Choctaw words. I was a baby when us lef' de Choctaw country. My sister
looked like a full blood Choctaw Indian and she could pass for a real
full blood Indian. Mammy's folks was all Choctaw Indians. Her sisters
was Polly Hogan, and Sookey Hogan and she had a brudder, Nolan Tubby.
Dey was all known in de Territory in de ole days.
"Near as Marse Riley's books can come to it, I mus' of been bo'n 'round
1859, up in de Territory.
"Us run de hay press to bale cotton on de plantation and took cotton by
ox wagons to Shreveport. Seven or eight wagons in a train, with three or
four yoke of steers to each wagon. Us made 'lasses and cloth and shoes
and lots of things. Old Marse Riley had a nigger who could make shoes
and if he had to go to court in Carthage, he'd leave nigger make shoes
for him.
"De quarters was a quarter mile long, all strung out on de creek bank.
Our cabin was nex' de big house. De white folks give big balls and had
supper goin' all night. Us had lots to eat and dey let us have dances
and suppers, too. We never go anywhere. Mammy always cry and 'fraid of
bein' stole again.
"Dere was a white man live close to us, but over in Louisan. He had
raised him a great big black man what brung fancy price on de block. De
black man sho' love dat white man. Dis white man would sell ole
John--dat's de black man's name--on de block to some man from Georgia or
other place fur off. Den, after 'while de white man would steal ole John
back and bring him home and feed him good, den sell him again. After he
had sol' ole John some lot of times, he coaxed ole John off in de swamp
one day and ole John foun' dead sev'ral days later. De white folks said
dat de owner kilt him, 'cause 'a dead nigger won't tell no tales.'
"Durin' de Freedom War, I seed soldiers all over de road. Dey was
breakin' hosses what dey stole. Us skeered and didn' let soldiers see us
if we could he'p it. Mammy and I stayed on with Marse Riley after
Freedom and till I was 'bout sixteen. Den Marse Riley died and I come to
Waco in a wagon with Jedge Surratt's brother, Marse Taylor Surratt. I
come to Waco de same year dat Dr. Lovelace did, and he says that was
1874. I married and us had six chillun.
"I can't read or write, 'cause I only went to school one day. De white
folks tried to larn me, but I's too thickheaded.
420244
[Illustration: Harriet Jones]
[Illustration: Harriet Jones with Daughter and Granddaughter]
HARRIET JONES, 93, was born a slave of Martin Fullbright, who owned
a large plantation in North Carolina. When he died his daughter,
Ellen, became Harriet's owner, and was so kind to Harriet that she
looks back on slave years as the happiest time in her life.
"My daddy and mammy was Henry and Zilphy Guest and Marse Martin
Fullbright brung dem from North Carolina to Red River County, in Texas,
long 'fore freedom, and settled near Clarksville. I was one of dere
eight chillen and borned in 1844 and am 93 years old. My folks stayed
with Marse Martin and he daughter, Miss Ellen, till dey went to de
reward where dey dies no more.
"De plantation raise corn and oats and wheat and cotton and hawgs and
cattle and hosses, and de neares' place to ship to market am at
Jefferson, Texas, ninety miles from Clarksville, den up river to
Shreveport and den to Memphis or New Orleans. Dey send cotton by wagon
train to Jefferson but mostly by boat up de bayou.
"When Marse Martin die he 'vide us slaves to he folks and I falls to he
daughter, Miss Ellen. Iffen ever dere was a angel on dis earth she was
it. I hopes wherever it is, her spirit am in glory.
"When Miss Ellen marry Marse Johnnie Watson, she have me fix her up. She
have de white satin dress and pink sash and tight waist and hoop skirt,
so she have to go through de door sideways. De long curls I made hang
down her shoulders and a bunch of pink roses in de hand. She look like a
angel.
"All de fine folks in Clarksville at dat weddin' and dey dances in de
big room after de weddin' supper. It was de grand time but it make me
cry, 'cause Miss Ellen done growed up. When she was a li'l gal she wore
de sweetes' li'l dresses and panties with de lace ruffles what hung down
below her skirt, and de jacket button in de back and shoes from soft
leather de shoeman tan jus' for her. When she li'l bigger she wear de
tucked petticoats, two, three at a time to take place of hoops, but she
still wear de white panties with lace ruffles what hang below de skirt
'bout a foot. Where dey gone now? I ain't seed any for sich a long time!
"When de white ladies go to church in dem hoop skirts, dey has to pull
dem up in da back to set down. After freedom dey wears de dresses long
with de train and has to hold up de train when dey goes in de church,
lessen dey has de li'l nigger to go 'long and hold it up for dem.
"All us house women larned to knit de socks and head mufflers, and many
is de time I has went to town and traded socks for groceries. I cooked,
too, and helped 'fore old Marse died. For everyday cookin' we has corn
pone and potlicker and bacon meat and mustard and turnip greens, and
good, old sorghum 'lasses. On Sunday we has chicken or turkey or roast
pig and pies and cakes and hot, salt-risin' bread.
"When folks visit dem days dey do it right and stays several days, maybe
a week or two. When de quality folks comes for dinner, Missie show me
how to wait on table. I has to come in when she ring de bell, and hold
de waiter for food jus' right. For de breakfas' we has coffee and hot
waffles what my mammy make.
"Dere was a old song we used to sing 'bout de hoecake, when we cookin'
dem:
"'If you wants to bake a hoecake,
To bake it good and done,
Slap it on a nigger's heel,
And hold it to de sun.
"'My mammy baked a hoecake,
As big as Alabama,
She throwed it 'gainst a nigger's head,
It ring jus' like a hammer.
"'De way you bake a hoecake,
De old Virginny way,
Wrap it round a nigger's stomach,
And hold it dere all day.'
"Dat de life we lives with old and young marse and missie, for dey de
quality folks of old Texas.
"'Bout time for de field hands to go to work, it gittin' mighty hot down
here, so dey go by daylight when it cooler. Old Marse have a horn and
'long 'bout four o'clock it 'gin to blow, and you turn over and try take
'nother nap, den it goes arguin', b l o w, how loud dat old horn do
blow, but de sweet smell de air and de early breeze blowin' through de
trees, and de sun peepin' over de meadow, make you glad to git up in de
early mornin'.
"'It's a cool and frosty mornin'
And de niggers goes to work,
With hoes upon dey shoulders,
Without a bit of shirt.'
"'When dey hears de horn blow for dinner it am de race, and dey sings:
"'I goes up on de meatskins,
I comes down on de pone--
I hits de corn pone fifty licks,
And makes dat butter moan.'
"De timber am near de river and de bayou and when dey not workin' de
hosses or no other work, we rides down and goes huntin' with de boys,
for wild turkeys and prairie chickens, but dey like bes' to hunt for
coons and possums.
"'Possum up de gum stump,
Raccoon in de hollow--
Git him down and twist him out,
And I'll give you a dollar.'
"Come Christmas, Miss Ellen say, 'Harriet, have de Christmas Tree carry
in and de holly and evergreens.' Den she puts de candles on de tree and
hangs de stockin's up for de white chillen and de black chillen. Nex'
mornin', everybody up 'fore day and somethin' for us all, and for de men
a keg of cider or wine on de back porch, so dey all have a li'l
Christmas spirit.
"De nex' thing am de dinner, serve in de big dinin' room, and dat
dinner! De onlies' time what I ever has sich a good dinner am when I
gits married and when Miss Ellen marries Mr. Johnnie. After de white
folks eats, dey watches de servants have dey dinner.
"Den dey has guitars and banjoes and fiddles and plays old Christmas
tunes, den dat night marse and missie brung de chillen to de quarters,
to see de niggers have dey dance. 'Fore de dance dey has Christmas
supper, on de long table out in de yard in front de cabins, and have
wild turkey or chicken and plenty good things to eat. When dey all
through eatin', dey has a li'l fire front de main cabins where de
dancin' gwine be. Dey moves everything out de cabin 'cept a few chairs.
Next come de fiddler and banjo-er and when dey starts, de caller call,
'Heads lead off,' and de first couple gits in middle de floor, and all
de couples follow till de cabin full. Next he calls, 'Sashay to de
right, and do-si-do.' Round to de right dey go, den he calls, 'Swing
you partners, and dey swing dem round twice, and so it go till daylight
come, den he sing dis song:
"'Its gittin' mighty late when de Guinea hen squall,
And you better dance now if you gwine dance a-tall--
If you don't watch out, you'll sing 'nother tune,
For de sun rise and cotch you, if you don't go soon,
For de stars gittin' paler and de old gray coon
Is sittin' in de grapevine a-watchin' de moon.'
"Den de dance break up with de Virginny Reel, and it de end a happy
Christmas day. De old marse lets dem frolic all night and have nex' day
to git over it, 'cause its Christmas.
"'Fore freedom de soldiers pass by our house and stop ask mammy to cook
dem something to eat, and when de Yankees stop us chillen hides. Once
two men stays two, three weeks lookin' round, pretends dey gwine buy
land. But when de white folks gits 'spicious, dey leaves right sudden,
and it turn out dey's Yankee spies.
"I marries Bill Jones de year after freedom. It a bright, moonlight
night and all de white folks and niggers come and de preacher stand
under de big elm tree, and I come in with two li'l pickininnies for
flower gals and holdin' my train. I has on one Miss Ellen's dresses and
red stockin's and a pair brand new shoes and a wide brim hat. De
preacher say, 'Bill, does you take dis woman to be you lawful wife?' and
Bill say he will. Den he say, 'Harriet, will you take dis nigger to be
you lawful boss and do jes' what he say?' Den we signs de book and de
preacher say, 'I quotes from de scripture:
"'Dark and stormy may come de weather,
I jines dis man and woman together.
Let none but Him what make de thunder,
Put dis man and woman asunder.'