table made with two planks and de peg legs. Miss Ellen puts on de white
tablecloth and some red berries, 'cause it am November and dey is ripe.
Den she puts on some red candles, and we has barbecue pig and roast
sweet 'taters and dumplin's and pies and cake. Dey all eats dis grand
supper till dey full and mammy give me de luck charm for de bride. It am
a rabbit toe, and she say:
"'Here, take dis li'l gift,
And place it near you heart;
It keep away dat li'l riff
What causes folks to part.
"'It only jes' a rabbit toe,
But plenty luck it brings,
Its worth a million dimes or more,
More'n all de weddin' rings.'
"Den we goes to Marse Watson's saddleshop to dance and dances all night,
and de bride and groom, dat's us, leads de grand march.
"De Yankees never burned de house or nothin', so Young Marse and Missie
jes' kep' right on livin' in de old home after freedom, like old Marse
done 'fore freedom. He pay de families by de day for work and let dem
work land on de halves and furnish dem teams and grub and dey does de
work.
"But bye'n-bye times slow commence to change, and first one and 'nother
de old folks goes on to de Great Beyon', one by one dey goes, till all I
has left am my great grandchild what I lives with now. My sister was
livin' at Greenville six years ago. She was a hundred and four years old
den. I don't know if she's livin' now or not. How does we live dat long?
Way back yonder 'fore I's born was a blessin' handed down from my great,
great, grandfather. It de blessin' of long life, and come with a
blessin' of good health from livin' de clean, hones' life. When
nighttime come, we goes to bed and to sleep, and dat's our blessin'.
420057
[Illustration: Lewis Jones]
LEWIS JONES, 86, was born a slave to Fred Tate, who owned a large
plantation on the Colorado River in Fayette Co., Texas. Lewis'
father was born a slave to H. Jones and was sold to Fred Tate, who
used him as a breeder to build up his slave stock. Lewis took his
father's name after Emancipation, and worked for twenty-three years
in a cotton gin at La Grange. He came to Fort Worth in 1896 and
worked for Armour & Co. until 1931. Lewis lives at 3304 Loving
Ave., Fort Worth, Texas.
"My birth am in de year 1851 on de plantation of Massa Fred Tate, what
am on de Colorado River. Yes, suh, dat am in de state of Texas. My mammy
am owned by Massa Tate and so am my pappy and all my brudders and
sisters. How many brudders and sisters? Lawd A-mighty! I'll tell you
'cause you asks and dis nigger gives de facts as 'tis. Let's see, I
can't 'lect de number. My pappy have 12 chillen by my mammy and 12 by
anudder nigger name Mary. You keep de count. Den dere am Liza, him have
10 by her, and dere am Mandy, him have 8 by her, and dere am Betty, him
have six by her. Now, let me 'lect some more. I can't bring de names to
mind, but dere am two or three other what have jus' one or two chillen
by my pappy. Dat am right. Close to 50 chillen, 'cause my mammy done
told me. It's disaway, my pappy am de breedin' nigger.
"You sees, when I meets a nigger on dat plantation, I's most sho' it am
a brudder or sister, so I don't try keep track of 'em.
"Massa Tate didn't give rations to each family like lots of massas, but
him have de cookhouse and de cooks, and all de rations cooked by dem and
all us niggers sat down to de long tables. Dere am plenty, plenty. I
sho' wishes I could have some good rations like dat now. Man, some of
dat ham would go fine. Dat was 'Ham, what am.'
"We'uns raise all de food right dere on de place. Hawgs? We'uns have
three, four hundred and massa raise de corn and feed dem and cure de
meat. We'uns have de cornmeal and de wheat flour and all de milk and
butter we wants, 'cause massa have 'bout 30 cows. And dere am de good
old 'lasses, too.
"Massa feed powerful good and he am not onreas'ble. He don't whup much
and am sho' reas'ble 'bout de pass, and he 'low de parties and have de
church on de place. Old Tom am de preacherman and de musician and him
play de fiddle and banjo. Sometime dey have jig contest, dat when dey
puts de glass of water on de head and see who can jig de hardes' without
spillin' de water. Den dere am joyment in de singin'. Preacher Tom set
all us niggers in de circle and sing old songs. I jus' can't sing for
you, 'cause I's lost my teeth and my voice am raspin', but I'll word
some, sich as
"'In de new Jerusalem,
In de year of Jubilee.'
"I done forgit de words. Den did you ever hear dis one:
"'Oh, do, what Sam done, do dat again,
He went to de hambone, bit off de end.'
"When Old Tom am preacherman, him talks from he heartfelt. Den sometime
a white preacherman come and he am de Baptist and baptize we'uns.
"Massa have de fine coach and de seat for de driver am up high in front
and I's de coachman and he dresses me nice and de hosses am fine, white
team. Dere I's sat up high, all dress good, holdin' a tight line 'cause
de team am full of spirit and fast. We'uns goes lickity split and it am
a purty sight. Man, 'twarnt anyone bigger dan dis nigger.
"I has de bad luck jus' one time with dat team and it am disaway: massa
have jus' change de power for de gin from hoss to steam and dey am
ginnin' cotton and I's with dat team 'side de house and de hosses am
a-prancin' and waitin' for missy to come out. Massa am in de coach. Den,
de fool niggers blows de whistle of dat steam engine and de hosses never
heered sich befo' and dey starts to run. Dey have de bit in de teeths
and I's lucky dat road am purty straight. I thinks of massa bein' inside
de coach and wants to save him. I says to myself, 'Dem hosses skeert and
I don't want to skeer 'em no more.' I jus' hold de lines steady and keep
sayin', 'Steady, boys, whoa boys.' Fin'ly dey begins to slow down and
den stops and massa gits out and de hosses am puffin' hard and all foam.
He turns to me and say, 'Boy, you's made a wonnerful drive, like a
vet'ran.' Now, does dat make me feel fine! It sho' do.
"When surrender come I's been drivin' 'bout a year and it's 'bout 11
o'clock in de mornin', 'cause massa have me ring de bell and all de
niggers runs quick to de house and massa say dey am free niggers. It am
time for layin' de crops by and he say if dey do dat he pay 'em. Some
stays and some goes off, but mammy and pappy and me stays. Dey never
left dat plantation, and I stays 'bout 8 years. I guess it dat coachman
job what helt me.
"When I quits I goes to work for Ed Mattson in La Grange and I works in
dat cotton gin 18 years. Fin'ly I comes here to Fort Worth. Dat am 1896.
I works for Armours 20 years but dey let me off six years ago, 'cause
I's too old. Since den I works at any little old job, for to make my
livin'.
"Sho', I's been married and it to Jane Owen in La Grange, and we'uns
have three chillen and dey all dead. She died in 1931.
"It am hard for dis nigger to git by and sometime I don't know for sho'
dat I's gwine git anudder meal, but it allus come some way. Yes, suh,
dey allus come some way. Some of de time dey is far apart, but dey
comes. De Lawd see to dat, I guess.
420148
LIZA JONES, 81, was born a slave of Charley Bryant, near Liberty,
Texas. She lives in Beaumont, and her little homestead is reached
by a devious path through a cemetery and across a ravine on a plank
foot-bridge. Liza sat in a backless chair, smoking a pipe, and her
elderly son lay on a blanket nearby. Both were resting after a hot
day's work in the field. Within the open door could be seen Henry
Jones, Liza's husband for sixty years, a tall, gaunt Negro who is
helpless. Blind, deaf and almost speechless, he could tell nothing
of slavery days, although he was grown when the war ended.
"When de Yankees come to see iffen dey had done turn us a-loose, I am a
nine year old nigger gal. That make me about 81 now. Dey promenade up to
de gate and de drum say a-dr-um-m-m-m-m, and de man in de blue uniform
he git down to open de gate. Old massa he see dem comin' and he runned
in de house and grab up de gun. When he come hustlin' down off de
gallery, my daddy come runnin'. He seed old massa too mad to know what
he a-doin', so quicker dan a chicken could fly he grab dat gun and
wrastle it outten old massa's hands. Den he push old massa in de
smokehouse and lock de door. He ain't do dat to be mean, but he want to
keep old massa outten trouble. Old massa know dat, but he beat on de
door and yell, but it ain't git open till dem Yankees done gone.
"I wisht old massa been a-livin' now, I'd git a piece of bread and meat
when I want it. Old man Charley Bryant, he de massa, and Felide Bryant
de missus. Dey both have a good age when freedom come.
"My daddy he George Price and he boss nigger on de place. Dey all come
from Louisiana, somewhere round New Orleans and all dem li'l extra
places.
"Liz'beth she my mama and dey's jus' two us chillen, me and my brudder,
John. He lives in Beaumont.
"'Bout all de work I did was 'tend to de rooms and sweep. Nobody ever
'low us to see nobody 'bused. I never seed or heared of nobody gittin'
cut to pieces with a whip like some. Course, chillen wasn't 'lowed to go
everywhere and see everything like dey does now. Dey jump in every
corner now.
"Miss Flora and Miss Molly am de only ones of my white folks what am
alive now and dey done say dey take me to San Antonio with dem. Course,
I couldn't go now and leave Henry, noway. De old Bryant place am in de
lawsuit. Dey say de brudder, Mister Benny, he done sharped it 'way from
de others befo' he die, but I 'lieve the gals will win dat lawsuit.
"My daddy am de gold pilot on de old place. Dat mean anything he done
was right and proper. Way after freedom, when my daddy die in Beaumont,
Cade Bryant and Mister Benny both want to see him befo' he buried. Dey
ride in and say, 'Better not you bury him befo' us see him. Dat's us
young George.' Dey allus call daddy dat, but he old den.
"My mama was de spring back cook and turkey baker. Dey call her dat, she
so neat, and cook so nice. I's de expert cook, too. She larnt me.
"Us chillen used to sing
"'Don't steal,
Don't steal my sugar.
Don't steal,
Don't steal my candy.
I's comin' round de mountain.'
"Dey sho' have better church in dem days dan now. Us git happy and
shout. Dey too many blind taggers now. Now dey say dey got de key and
dey ain't got nothin'. Us used to sing like dis:
"'Adam's fallen race,
Good Lawd, hang down my head and cry.
Help me to trust him,
Help me to trust him,
Help me to trust him,
Gift of Gawd.
"'Help me to trust him,
Help me to trust him,
Help me to trust him,
Eternal Life.
"'Had not been for Adam's race,
I wouldn't been sinnin' today,
Help me to trust him,
Gift of Gawd.'
"Dey 'nother hymn like dis:
"'Heavenly land,
Heavenly land,
I's gwineter beg Gawd,
For dat Heavenly land.
"'Some come cripplin',
Some come lame,
Some come walkin',
In Jesus' name.'
"You know I saw you-all last night in my sleep? I ain't never seed you
befo' today, but I seed you last night. Dey's two of you, a man and a
woman, and you come crost dat bridge and up here, askin' me iffen I
trust in de Lawd. And here you is today.
"Dey had nice parties in slavery time and right afterwards. Dey have
candy pullin' and corn shuckin's and de like. Old Massa Day and Massa
Bryant, dey used to put dey niggers together and have de prize dances.
Massa Day allus lose, 'cause us allus beat he niggers at dancin'. Lawd,
when I clean myself up, I sho' could teach dem how to buy a cake-walk in
dem days. I could cut de pigeon wing, jes' pull my heels up and clack
dem together. Den us do de back step and de banquet, too.
"Us allus have de white tarleton Swiss dress for dances and Sunday. Dem
purty good clothes, too and dey make at home. Us knowed how to sew and
one de old man's gals, she try teach me readin' and writin'. I didn't
have no sense, though, and I cry to go out and play.
"When freedom come old massa he done broke down and cry, so my daddy
stay with him. He stay a good many year, till both us chillen was
growed. Us have de li'l log house on de place all dat time. Dey 'nother
old cullud man what stay, name George Whitehouse. He have de li'l house,
too. He stay till he die.
"Dey was tryin' to make a go of it after de war, 'cause times was hard.
De white boys, dey go out in de field and work den, and work hard,
'cause dey don't have de slaves no more. I used to see de purty, young
white ladies, all dress up, comin' to de front door. I slips out and
tell de white boys, and dey workin' in de field, half-naked and dirty,
and dey sneak in de back door and clean up to spark dem gals.
"I been marry to dat Henry in dere sixty year, and he was a slave in
Little Rock, in Arkansas, for Anderson Jones. Henry knowed de bad,
tejous part of de war and he must be 'bout 96 year old. Now he am in
pain all de time. Can't see, can't hear and can't talk. Us never has had
de squabble. At de weddin' de white folks brung cakes and every li'l
thing. I had a white tarleton dress with de white tarleton wig. Dat de
hat part what go over de head and drape on de shoulder. Dat de sign you
ain't never done no wrong sin and gwinter keep bein' good.
"After us marry I move off de old place, but nothin' must do but I got
to keep de house for Mister Benny. I's cleanin' up one time and finds a
milk churn of money. I say, 'Mr. Benny, what for you ain't put dat money
in de bank?' He say he will. De next time I cleanin' up I finds a pillow
sack full of money. I says, 'Mr. Benny, I's gwineter quit. I ain't
gwineter be 'sponsible for dis money.' He's sick den and I put de money
under he pillow and git ready to go. He say, 'You better stay, or I send
Andrew, de sheriff, after you.' I goes and cooks dinner and when I gits
back dey has four doctors with Mr. Benny. He wife say to me, 'Liza, you
got de sight. Am Benny gwineter git well?' I goes and looks and I knowed
he gwine way from dere. I knowed he was gone den. Dey leant on me a heap
after dat.
"It some years after dat I leaves dem and Henry and me gits married and
us make de livin' farmin'. Us allus stays right round hereabouts and
gits dis li'l house. Now my son and me, us work de field and gits 'nough
to git through on.
420089
[Illustration: Lizzie Jones]
LIZZIE JONES, an 86 year old ex-slave of the R.H. Hargrove family,
was born in 1861, in Harrison County, Texas. She stayed with her
owner until four years after the close of the Civil War. She now
lives with Talmadge Buchanan, a grandson, two miles east of
Karnack, on the Lee road.
"I was bo'n on the ole Henry Hargrove place. My ole missus was named
Elizabeth and mammy called me Lizzie for her. But the Hargroves called
me 'Wink' since I was a chile, 'cause I was so black and shiny. Massa
Hargrove had four girls and four boys and I helped tend them till I was
big enough to cook and keep house. I wagged ole Marse Dr. Hargrove, dat
lives in Marshall, round when he was a baby.
"I allus lived in de house with the white folks and ate at their table
when they was through, and slep' on the floor. We never had no school or
church in slavery time. The niggers couldn' even add. None of us knowed
how ole we was, but Massa set our ages down in a big book.
"I 'member playin' peep-squirrel and marbles and keepin' house when I
was a chile. Massa 'lowed the boys and girls to cou't but they couldn'
marry 'fore they was 20 years ole, and they couldn' marry off the
plantation. Slaves warn't married by no Good Book or the law, neither.
They'd jes' take up with each other and go up to the Big House and ask
massa to let them marry. If they was ole enough, he'd say to the boy,
'Take her and go on home.'
"Mammy lived 'cross the field at the quarters and there was so many
nigger shacks it look like a town. The slaves slep' on bunks of homemade
boards nailed to de wall with poles for legs and they cooked on the
fireplace. I didn' know what a stove was till after de War. Sometime
they'd bake co'nbread in the ashes and every bit of the grub they ate
come from the white folks and the clothes, too. I run them looms many a
night, weavin' cloth. In summer we had lots of turnips and greens and
garden stuff to eat. Massa allus put up sev'ral barrels of kraut and a
smokehouse full of po'k for winter. We didn' have flour or lard, but
huntin' was good 'fore de war and on Sat'day de men could go huntin' and
fishin' and catch possum and rabbits and squirrels and coons.
"The overseer was named Wade and he woke the han's up at four in the
mornin' and kep' them in the field from then till the sun set. Mos' of
de women worked in de fields like de men. They'd wash clothes at night
and dry them by the fire. The overseer kep' a long coach whip with him
and if they didn' work good, he'd thrash them good. Sometime he's pretty
hard on them and strip 'em off and whip 'em till they think he was gonna
kill 'em. No nigger ever run off as I 'member.
"We never have no parties till after 'mancipation, and we couldn' go off
de place. On Sundays we slep' or visited each other. But the white folks
was good to us. Massa Hargrove didn' have no doctor but there wasn' much
sickness and seldom anybody die.
"I don' 'member much 'bout de War. Massa went to it, but he come home
shortly and say he sick with the 'sumption, but he got well real quick
after surrender.
"The white folks didn' let the niggers know they was free till 'bout a
year after the war. Massa Hargrove took sick sev'ral months after and
'fore he did he tell the folks not to let the niggers loose till they
have to. Finally they foun' out and 'gun to leave.
"My pappy died 'fore I was bo'n and mammy married Caesar Peterson and
'bout a year after de war dey moved to a farm close to Lee, but I kep'
on workin' for de Hargroves for four years, helpin' missus cook and keep
house.
420288
TOBY JONES was born in South Carolina, in 1850, a slave of Felix
Jones, who owned a large tobacco plantation. Toby has farmed in
Madisonville, Texas, since 1869, and still supports himself, though
his age makes it hard for him to work.
"My father's name was Eli Jones and mammy's name was Jessie. They was
captured in Africa and brought to this country whilst they was still
young folks, and my father was purty hard to realize he was a slave,
'cause he done what he wanted back in Africa.
"Our owner was Massa Felix Jones and he had lots of tobacco planted. He
was real hard on us slaves and whipped us, but Missie Janie, she was a
real good woman to her black folks. I 'members when their li'l
curlyheaded Janie was borned. She jus' loved this old, black nigger and
I carried her on my back whole days at a time. She was the sweetes' baby
ever borned.
"Massa, he lived in a big, rock house with four rooms and lots of shade
trees, and had 'bout fifty slaves. Our livin' quarters wasn't bad. They
was rock, too, and beds built in the corners, with straw moss to sleep
on.
"We had plenty to eat, 'cause the woods was full of possum and rabbits
and all the mud holes full of fish. I sho' likes a good, old, fat possum
cooked with sweet 'taters round him. We cooked meat in a old-time pot
over the fireplace or on a forked stick. We grated corn by hand for
cornbread and made waterpone in the ashes.
"I was borned 'bout 1850, so I was plenty old to 'member lots 'bout
slave times. I 'members the loyal clothes, a long shirt what come down
below our knees, opened all the way down the front. On Sunday we had
white loyal shirts, but no shoes and when it was real cold we'd wrap our
feet in wool rags so they wouldn't freeze. I married after freedom and
had white loyal breeches. I wouldn't marry 'fore that, 'cause massa
wouldn't let me have the woman I wanted.
"The overseer was a mean white man and one day he starts to whip a
nigger what am hoein' tobacco, and he whipped him so hard that nigger
grabs him and made him holler. Missie come out and made them turn loose
and massa whipped that nigger and put him in chains for a whole year.
Every night he had to be in jail and couldn't see his folks for that
whole year.
"I seed slaves sold, and they'd make them clean up good and grease their
hands and face, so they'd look real fat, and sell them off. Of course,
most the niggers didn't know their parents or what chillen was theirs.
The white folks didn't want them to git 'tached to each other.
"Missie read some Bible to us every Sunday mornin' and taught us to do
right and tell the truth. But some them niggers would go off without a
pass and the patterrollers would beat them up scand'lous.
"The fun was on Saturday night when massa 'lowed us to dance. There was
lots of banjo pickin' and tin pan beatin' and dancin', and everybody
would talk 'bout when they lived in Africa and done what they wanted.
"I worked for massa 'bout four years after freedom, 'cause he forced me
to, said he couldn't 'ford to let me go. His place was near ruint, the
fences burnt and the house would have been but it was rock. There was a
battle fought near his place and I taken missie to a hideout in the
mountains to where her father was, 'cause there was bullets flyin'
everywhere. When the war was over, massa come home and says, 'You son
of a gun, you's sposed to be free, but you ain't, 'cause I ain't gwine
give you freedom.' So, I goes on workin' for him till I gits the chance
to steal a hoss from him. The woman I wanted to marry, Govie, she 'cides
to come to Texas with me. Me and Govie, we rides that hoss most a
hundred miles, then we turned him a-loose and give him a scare back to
his house, and come on foot the rest the way to Texas.
"All we had to eat was what we could beg and sometimes we went three
days without a bite to eat. Sometimes we'd pick a few berries. When we
got cold we'd crawl in a breshpile and hug up close together to keep
warm. Once in awhile we'd come to a farmhouse and the man let us sleep
on cottonseed in his barn, but they was far and few between, 'cause they
wasn't many houses in the country them days like now.
"When we gits to Texas we gits married, but all they was to our weddin'
am we jus' 'grees to live together as man and wife. I settled on some
land and we cut some trees and split them open and stood them on end
with the tops together for our house. Then we deadened some trees and
the land was ready to farm. There was some wild cattle and hawgs and
that's the way we got our start, caught some of them and tamed them.
"I don't know as I 'spected nothin' from freedom, but they turned us out
like a bunch of stray dogs, no homes, no clothin', no nothin', not
'nough food to last us one meal. After we settles on that place, I never
seed man or woman, 'cept Govie, for six years, 'cause it was a long ways
to anywhere. All we had to farm with was sharp sticks. We'd stick holes
and plant corn and when it come up we'd punch up the dirt round it. We
didn't plant cotton, 'cause we couldn't eat that. I made bows and
arrows to kill wild game with and we never went to a store for nothin'.
We made our clothes out of animal skins.
"We used rabbit foots for good luck, tied round our necks. We'd make
medicine out of wood herbs. There is a rabbit foot weed that we mixed
with sassafras and made good cough syrup. Then there is cami weed for
chills and fever.
"All I ever did was to farm and I made a livin'. I still makes one,
though I'm purty old now and its hard for me to keep the work up. I has
some chickens and hawgs and a yearling or two to sell every year.
420173
AUNT PINKIE KELLY, whose age is a matter of conjecture, but who
says she was "growed up when sot free," was born on a plantation in
Brazoria Co., owned by Greenville McNeel, and still lives on what
was a part of the McNeel plantation, in a little cabin which she
says is much like the old slave quarters.
"De only place I knows 'bout is right here, what was Marse Greenville
McNeel's plantation, 'cause I's born here and Marse Greenville and Missy
Amelia, what was his wife, is de only ones I ever belonged to. After de
war, Marse Huntington come down from up north and took over de place
when Marse Greenville die, but de big house burned up and all de papers,
too, and I couldn't tell to save my life how old I is, but I's growed up
and worked in de fields befo' I's sot free.
"My mammy's name was Harriet Jackson and she was born on de same
plantation. My pappy's name was Dan, but folks called him Good Cheer. He
druv oxen and one day they show me him and say he my pappy, and so I
guess he was, but I can't tell much about him, 'cause chillen then
didn't know their pappys like chillen do now.
"Most I 'members 'bout them times is work, 'cause we's put out in de
fields befo' day and come back after night. Then we has to shell a
bushel of corn befo' we goes to bed and we was so tired we didn't have
time for nothin'.
"Old man Jerry Driver watches us in de fields and iffen we didn't work
hard he whip us and whip us hard. Then he die and 'nother man call
Archer come. He say, 'You niggers now, you don't work good, I beat you,'
and we sho' worked hard then.
"Marse Greenville treated us pretty good but he never give us nothin'.
Sometime we'd run away and hide in de woods for a spell, but when they
cotch us Marse Greenville tie us down and whip us so we don't do it no
more.
"We didn't have no clothes like we do now, jes' cotton lowers and rubber
shoes. They used to feed us peas and cornbread and hominy, and sometime
they threw beef in a pot and bile it, but we never had hawg meat.