winter in Texas. He lived in de big log house with de hallway clean
through and a gallery clean 'cross de front. De chimney was big 'nough
to burn logs in and it sho' throwed out de heat. It was a good, big
place and young massa come out early and holler for us to git up and be
in de field.
"Missy Hogan was de good woman and try her dead level best to teach me
to read and write, but my head jes' too thick, I jes' couldn't larn. My
Uncle Ben he could read de Bible and he allus tell us some day us be
free and Massa Harry laugh, haw, haw, haw, and he say, 'Hell, no, yous
never be free, yous ain't got sense 'nough to make de livin' if yous was
free.' Den he takes de Bible 'way from Uncle Ben and say it put de bad
ideas in he head, but Uncle gits 'nother Bible and hides it and massa
never finds it out.
"We'uns goes to de big baptisin' one time and it's at de big sawmill
tank and 50 is baptise' and I's in dat bunch myself. But dey didn't have
no funerals for de slaves, but jes' bury dem like a cow or a hoss, jes'
dig de hole and roll 'em in it and cover 'em up.
"War come and durin' dem times jes' like today nearly everybody knows
what gwine on, news travels purty fast, and iffen de slaves couldn't git
it with de pass dey slips out after dark and go in another plantation by
de back way. Course, iffen dem patterrollers cotch dem it jus' too bad
and dey gits whip.
"When de news comes in dat us free, Massa Harry never call us up like
everybody else did the slaves, us has to go up and ask him 'bout it. He
come out on de front gallery and says we is free and turns 'round and
goes in de house without 'nother word. We all sho' feels sorry for him
the way he acts and hates to leave him, but we wants to go. We knowed he
wasn't able to give us nothin' so begins to scatter and 'bout ten or
fifteen days Massa Harry dies. I think he jes' grieve himself to death,
all he trouble comin' on him to once.
"Us worked on diff'rent farms till I marries and my fust wife am Emma
Williams and a cullud preacher marries us at her house. Us picked cotton
after dat and den I rents a place on de halvers for five year and after
sev'ral years I buys eighty acres of land. Fin'ly us done paid dat out
and done some repairs and den us sep'rate after livin' twenty-three year
together. So I gives dat place to her and de six chillen and I walks out
ready to start all over 'gain.
"Then I meets Sarah Jones and us marries, but she gives me de
divorcement. All dis time I works on a farm for de day wages, den I
rents 'nother farm on de halvers on de black land and stays dere sev'ral
year. Fin'ly I gits de job workin' at de cotton oil mill in Corsicana
and stays at dat job till dey says I's too old. I done buy dis li'l home
here and now has a place to live. Sarah done come back to me and us has
seven chillen. One of de boys works at de cotton oil mill and two works
at de compress right here in Corsicana and one works at de beer place in
Dallas.
"Us raises a li'l on dese two lots and de chillen brings some from de
farm, I mean my fust wife's chillen, and with de pension check us manage
to live a li'l longer. Us boys pays de taxes and de insurance for us.
420306
HARRISON BECKETT, born a slave of I.D. Thomas of San Augustine,
Texas, now lives in Beaumont. A great-grandson climbed into
Harrison's lap during the interview, and his genial face lit up
with a smile. He chuckled as he told of his own boyhood days, and
appeared to enjoy reminiscing. At times he uses big words, some of
his own coining.
"I's 'mong de culls now, like a hoss what am too old. I's purty small
yit when 'mancipation comes and didn't have no hard work. Old Massa have
me and de other li'l niggers keep de stock out de fields. Us li'l
boogers have to run and keep de cows out de corn and de cotton patch.
Dat ought to been 'nough to keep us out of debbilment.
"It come to pass my mammy work in de field. Her name Cynthia Thomas and
daddy's name Isaac Thomas. But after freedom he goes back to Florida and
find out he people and git he real name, and dat am Beckett. Dat 'bout
ten years after 'mancipation he go back to he old home in Florida.
Mammy's people was de Polkses, in Georgia. Mammy come in from de field
at nine or ten o'clock at night and she be all wore out and too tired to
cook lots of times. But she have to git some food for us. We all had a
tin pan and git round de table and dat like a feast. But lots of times
she's so tired she go to bed without eatin' nothin' herself.
"My sisters was Ellen and Sani and Georgy-Ann and Cindy and Sidi-Ann.
Dey's all big 'nough to work in de field. My brudders name Matthew and
Ed and Henry and Harry, what am me, and de oldes' one am General Thomas.
"Dey more'n a hundred head of black folks on Massa Thomas' two farms,
and 'bout a hundred fifty acres in each farm. One de farms in iron ore,
what am red land, and de other in gray land, half sand and half black
dirt.
"Us slaves live in pole houses and some in split log houses, with two
rooms, one for to sleep in and one for to cook in. Day ain't
no glass windows, jus' holes in de walls. Dere was jack beds to sleep
on, made out of poles. Dey has four legs and ain't nail to de walls.
"Old Massa he care for he hands purty well, considerin' everything. In
ginnin' time he 'low de women to pick up cotton from de ground and make
mattresses and quilts. He make some cloth and buy some. A woman weave
all de time and when de shickle jump out on de floor I picks it up. I
used to could knit socks and I was jes' a li'l boy then, but I keep
everything in 'membrance.
"Dey have some school and de chillen larnt readin' and writin', and
manners and behaviour, too. Sometime dey git de broke-down white man to
be teacher. But us didn't know much and it taken ten years or more after
freedom to git de black men de qualification way he could handle things.
"One time us boys git some watermillions out in de bresh and hit 'em or
drap 'em to break 'em open. Dere come massa and cotch us not workin',
but eatin' he watermillions. He tell my daddy to whip me. But lots of
times when us sposed to mind de calves, us am out eatin' watermillions
in de bresh. Den de calves git out and massa see dem run and cotch us.
"Old massa was kind and good, though. He have partiality 'bout him, and
wouldn't whip nobody without de cause. He whip with de long, keen switch
and it didn't bruise de back, but sho' did sting. When he git real mad,
he pull up you shirt and whip on de bare hide. One time he whippin' me
and I busts de button off my shirt what he holdin' on to, and runs
away. I tries to outrun him, and dat tickle him. I sho' give de ground
fits with my feets. But dem whippin's done me good. Dey break me up from
thievin' and make de man of me.
"De way dey dress us li'l nigger boys den, dey give us a shirt what come
way down 'tween de knees and ankles. When de weather am too cold, dey
sometimes give us pants.
"De white preachers come round and preach. Dey have de tabernacle like a
arbor and cullud folks come from all round to hear de Gospel 'spounded.
Most every farm have de cullud man larnin' to preach. I used to 'long to
de Methodists but now I 'longs to de Church of Christ.
"Massa Thomas, he de wholesale merchant and git kilt in New Orleans. A
big box of freight goods fall on him, a box 'bout a yard square on de
end and six yards long. He's carryin' back some good for to make
exchangement and dey pullin' up de box with pulley and rope and it fall
on him. De New Orleans folks say it am de accidentment, but de rest say
de rope am cut. One of massa's old friends was Lawyer Brooks. He used to
firmanize de word.
"Massa have two boys, Mr. Jimmie and Li'l Ide and dey both goes to de
war. Li'l Ide, he go up in Arkansas and dey say when dat first cannon
busts at Li'l Rock, he starts runnin' and never stops till he gits back
home. I don't see how he could do dat, 'cause Li'l Rock am way far off,
but dat what dey say. Den de men comes to git 'serters and dey gits Li'l
Ide and takes him back. Mr. Jimmie, he didn't break de ranks. He stood
he ground.
"Mammy and dem tell me when war am over de boss and he wife, dey calls
de slaves up in de bunch and tells 'em, 'You's free as I is. Keep on or
quit, if you wants. You don't have to stay no further, you's free
today.' Dat near June 19th, and all of 'em stays. Massa say, 'Go 'head
and finish de crop and I feed you and pay you.' Dey all knowed when he
kilt de hawgs us git plenty of meat. Dat young massa say all dat, 'cause
old massa done git kilt.
"It's at Panola County where I first hears of de Klux. Dey call dem
White Caps den. Dey move over in Panola County and ranges at de place
call Big Creek Merval by McFaddin Creek. Dey's purty rough. De
landowners tell dey niggers not to kill de White Caps but to scare dem
'way. At night dey come knock and if you don't open it dey pry it open
and run you out in de field. Dey run de niggers from Merryville round
Longview. Dey some good men in de Klux and some bad men. But us work
hard and go home and dey ain't bother us none.
"Dey used to be a nigger round dere, call Bandy Joe. He git kilt at
Nacogdoches fin'ly. He could turn into anything. De jedge of he parish
was Massa Lee and he say dey ought let Bandy Joe live, so dey could larn
he art. Dey done try cotch him de long time, and maybe be holdin' him
and first thing they know he gone and dey left holdin' he coat. Dey
shoot at him and not hurt him. He tell he wife dey ain't no kind bullet
can hurt him but de silver bullet.
"Dat Bandy Joe, he say he a spirit and a human both. Iffen he didn't
want you to see him you jus' couldn't see him. Lots of folks liked him.
De jedge say he wish he could'a been brung to town, so he could 'zamine
him 'bout he gifts. De jedge knowed Bandy Joe could dis'pear jus' like
nothin', and he like to hear he quotation how he git out he skin. I'd
like to know dat myself.
"I 'magines I seed ghosties two, three times. I used to range round at
nighttime. I rides through a old slavery field and de folks tell me,
'Harry, you better be careful gwine 'cross dat old field. They's things
dere what makes mules run 'way. One night it am late and my mule run
'way. I make my mind I go back and see what he run from and somethin' am
by de fence like de bear stand up straight. It stand dere 'bout fifteen
minutes while I draws my best 'pinion of it. I didn't get any nearer dan
to see it. A man down de road tell me de place am hanted and he dunno
how many wagons and mules git pull by dat thing at dat place.
"One time I's livin' 'nother place and it am 'twixt sundown and dusk. I
had a li'l boy 'hind me and I seed a big sow with no head comin' over de
fence. My ma, she allus say what I see might be 'magination and to turn
my head and look 'gain and I does dat. But it still dere. Den I seed a
hoss goin' down de road and he drag a chain, and cross de bridge and
turn down de side road. But when I git to de side road I ain't seed no
hoss or nothin'. I didn't say nothin' to de li'l boy 'hind me on de mule
till I gits most home, den asks him did he see anythin'. He say no. I
wouldn't tell him 'fore dat, 'cause I 'fraid he light out and outrun me
and I didn't want to be by myself with dem things. When I gits home and
tell everybody, dey say dat a man name McCoy, what was kilt dere and I
seed he spirit.
"I's 'bout twenty-one when I marries Mandy Green. Us has twelve chillen,
and a world of grandchillen. I travels all over Louisiana and Texas in
my time, and come here three year ago. My son he work in de box fact'ry
here, and he git a bodily injurement while he workin' and die, and I
come here to de burial and I been here ever since.
420269
FRANK BELL, 86, was a slave of Johnson Bell, who ran a saloon in
New Orleans. Frank lives in Madisonville, Texas.
"I was owned by Johnson Bell and born in New Orleans, in Louisiana.
'Cordin' to the bill of sale, I'm eighty-six years old, and my master
was a Frenchman and was real mean to me. He run saloon and kept bad
women. I don't know nothing 'bout my folks, if I even had any, 'cept
mama. They done tell me she was a bad woman and a French Creole.
"I worked 'round master's saloon, kep' everything cleaned up after
they'd have all night drinkin' parties, men and women. I earned nickels
to tip off where to go, so's they could sow wild oats. I buried the
nickels under rocks. If master done cotch me with money, he'd take it
and beat me nearly to death. All I had to eat was old stuff those people
left, all scraps what was left.
"One time some bad men come to master's and gits in a shootin' scrape
and they was two men kilt. I sho' did run. But master cotch me and make
me take them men to the river and tie a weight on them, so they'd sink
and the law wouldn't git him.
"The clothes I wore was some master's old ones. They allus had holes in
them. Master he stay drunk nearly all time and was mean to his slave.
I'm the only one he had, and didn't cost him nothing. He have bill of
sale made, 'cause the law say he done stole me when I'm small child.
Master kept me in chains sometimes. He shot several men.
"I didn't have no quarters but stays 'round the place and throw old sack
down and lay there and sleep. I'm 'fraid to run, 'cause master say he'd
hunt me and kill nigger.
"When I's 'bout seventeen I marries a gal while master on drunk spell.
Master he run her off, and I slips off at night to see her, but he finds
it out. He takes a big, long knife and cuts her head plumb off, and ties
a great, heavy weight to her and makes me throw her in the river. Then
he puts me in chains and every night he come give me a whippin', for
long time.
"When war come, master swear he not gwine fight, but the Yankees they
captures New Orleans and throws master in a pen and guards him. He gets
a chance and 'scapes.
"When war am over he won't free me, says I'm valuable to him in his
trade. He say, 'Nigger, you's suppose to be free but I'll pay you a
dollar a week and iffen you runs off I'll kill you.' So he makes me do
like befo' the war, but give me 'bout a dollar a month, 'stead week.
"He say I cost more'n I'm worth, but he won't let me go. Times I don't
know why I didn't die befo' I'm growed, sleepin' on the ground, winter
and summer, rain and snow. But not much snow there.
"Master helt me long years after the war. If anybody git after him, he
told them I stay 'cause I wants to stay, but told me if I left he'd kill
him 'nother nigger. I stayed till he gits in a drunk brawl one night
with men and women and they gits to shootin' and some kilt. Master got
kilt. Then I'm left to live or die, so I wanders from place to place. I
nearly starved to death befo' I'd leave New Orleans, 'cause I couldn't
think master am dead and I'm 'fraid. Finally I gits up nerve to leave
town, and stays the first night in white man's barn. I never slep'.
Every time I hears something, I jumps up and master be standin' there,
lookin' at me, but soon's I git up he'd leave. Next night I slep' out in
a hay field, and master he git right top of a tree and start hollerin at
me. I never stays in that place. I gits gone from that place. I gits
back to town fast as my legs carry me.
"Then I gits locked up in jail. I don't know what for, never did know.
One the men says to me to come with him and takes me to the woods and
gives me an ax. I cuts rails till I nearly falls, all with chain locked
'round feet, so I couldn't run off. He turns me loose and I wanders
'gain. Never had a home. Works for men long 'nough to git fifty, sixty
cents, then starts roamin' 'gain, like a stray dog like.
"After long time I marries Feline Graham. Then I has a home and we has a
white preacher marry us. We has one boy and he farms and I lives with
him. I worked at sawmill and farms all my life, but never could make
much money.
"You know, the nigger was wild till the white man made what he has out
of the nigger. He done ed'cate them real smart.
420193
Aunt VIRGINIA BELL, 1205 Ruthven St., Houston, was born a slave
near Opelousas, Louisiana, on the plantation of Thomas Lewis.
Although she remembers being told she was born on Christmas Day,
she does not know the year, but says she guesses she is about 88
years old.
"Well, suh, the fus' question you ask me, 'bout how old I is, I don'
know 'zactly. You see it ain't like things is today. The young folks can
tell you their 'zact age and everything, but in those days we didn' pay
much 'tention to such things. But I knows I was bo'n in slavery times
and my pappy tol' me I was bo'n on a Christmas Day, but didn' 'member
jus' what year.
"We was owned by Massa Lewis. Thomas Lewis was his name, and he was a
United States lawyer. I ain't gwineter talk 'gainst my white folks like
some cullud folks do, 'cause Massa Lewis was a mighty fine man and so
was Miss Mary, and they treated us mighty good.
"Massa had a big plantation near Opelousas and I was bo'n there. I
'member the neighbor folks used to bring their cotton to the gin on his
farm for ginnin' and balin'. My mother's name was Della. That was all,
jus' Della. My pappy's name was Jim Blair. Both of them was from
Virginny, but from diff'rent places, and was brought to Louisiana by
nigger traders and sold to Massa Lewis. I know my pappy was lots older
than my mother and he had a wife and five chillen back in Virginny and
had been sold away from them out here. Then he and my mother started a
family out here. I don' know what become of his family back in Virginny,
'cause when we was freed he stayed with us.
"When I got old enough I was housegirl and used to carry notes for Miss
Mary to the neighbors and bring back answers. Miss Mary would say, 'Now,
Virginny, you take this note to sech and sech place and be sure and be
back in sech and sech time,' and I allus was.
"Massa Lewis had four or five families of us slaves, but we used to have
some fun after work and us young folks would skip rope and play ring
games. Durin' week days the field hands would work till the sun was jus'
goin' down and then the overseer would holler 'all right' and that was
the signal to quit. All hands knocked off Sat'day noon.
"We didn' have no schoolin' or preachin'. Only the white folks had them,
but sometimes on Sundays we'd go up to the house and listen to the white
folks singin'.
"Iffen any of the slave hands wanted to git married, Massa Lewis would
git them up to the house after supper time, have the man and woman jine
hands and then read to them outen a book. I guess it was the Scriptures.
Then he'd tell 'em they was married but to be ready for work in the
mornin'. Massa Lewis married us 'cordin' to Gospel.
"Massa used to feed us good, too, and we had plenty clothes. Iffen we
got took sick, we had doctor treatment, too. Iffen a hand took sick in
the field with a misery, they was carried to their quarters and Massa or
Miss Mary would give them a dose of epecac and make them vomit and would
sen' for the doctor. They wouldn' fool none iffen one of us took sick,
but would clean us out and take care of us till we was well.
"There was mighty little whippin' goin' on at our place, 'cause Massa
Lewis and Miss Mary treated us good. They wasn't no overseer goin' to
whip, 'cause Massa wouldn' 'low him to. Le's see, I don' rec'lec' more
than two whippin's I see anyone git from Massa, and that has been so
long ago I don' rec'lec' what they was for.
"When the War done come 'long it sho' changed things, and we heerd this
and that, but we didn' know much what it was about. Then one day Massa
Lewis had all the wagons loaded with food and chairs and beds and other
things from the house and our quarters, and I heerd him say we was
movin' to Polk County, way over in Texas. I know it took us a long time
to git there, and when we did I never see so much woods. It sho' was
diff'rent from the plantation.
"I had to work in the fields, same as the res', and we stayed there
three years and made three crops of cotton, but not so much as on our
old place, 'cause there wasn't so much clearin'. Then one day Massa
Lewis tol' us we was free, jus' as free as he was--jus' like you take
the bridle offen a hoss and turn him loose. We jus' looked 'roun as
iffen we hadn' good sense. We didn' have nothin' nor nowhere to go, and
Massa Lewis say iffen we finish makin' de crop, he would take us back to
Opelousas and give us a place to stay and feed us. So after pickin' we
goes back and when we git there we sees where those rascal Yankees
'stroyed everything--houses burned, sugar kettles broke up. It looked
mighty bad.
"Massa Lewis hadn' no money, but he fixed us up a place to stay and give
us what he could to eat, but things was mighty hard for a while. I know
pappy used to catch rabbits and take them to town and sell them or trade
them for somethin' to eat, and you know that wasn't much, 'cause you
can't git much for a little ol' rabbit.
"Then the Provo' Marshal, that was his name, give us a order for things
to put in a crop with and to live till we made the crop. 'Course, I
guess we wasn' as bad off as some, 'cause white folks knew we was Massa
Lewis' folks and didn' bother us none.
Then I got married to John Bell, and it was a scripture weddin', too. He
died 28 years ago, but I has stayed married to him ever since. We had
thirteen chillen, but they is all dead now 'cept four, but they was
raised up right and they is mighty good to they ol' mammy.
420114
[Illustration: Edgar and Minerva Bendy]
EDGAR BENDY, 90 odd years, was the slave of Henry Bendy, of
Woodville, Texas, has to make an effort to remember and is forced
to seek aid from his wife, Minerva, at certain points in his story.
Edgar has lived in Woodville all his life.
"I's a good size' boy when de war gwine on and I seed de soldiers come
right here in Woodville. A big bunch of dem come through and dey have
cannons with dem. My marster he didn't go to war, 'cause he too old, I
guess.
"I's born right here and done live hereabouts every since. Old man Henry
Bendy, he my marster and he run de store here in Woodville and have de
farm, too. I didn't do nothin' 'cept nuss babies. I jes' jump dem up and
down and de old marster hire me out to nuss other white folks chillen,
big and little.
"My daddy name' Jack Crews and my mammy was Winnie. Both of dem worked
on de farm and I never seed dem much. I didn't have no house of my own,
'cause de marster, he give me de room in he house. He have lots of
slaves and 'bout 100 acres in cult'vation. He gave dem plenty to eat and
good homespun clothes to wear. He was mighty good.
"Marster have de plank house and all de things in it was home-made. De
cook was a old cullud woman and I eat at de kitchen table and have de
same what de white folks eats. Us has lots of meat, deer meat and possum
and coon and sich, and us sets traps for birds.
"Dey ain't nothin' better dat go in de wood dan de big, fat possum. Dey
git fat on black haws and acorns and chinquapin and sich. Chinquapin is
good for people to eat and to roast. I used to be plumb give up to be de
best hunter in Tyler and in de whole country. I kilt more deer dan any
other man in de county and I been guide for all de big men what comes
here to hunt. My wife, Minerva, she used to go huntin' with me.
"I kep' on huntin' and huntin' till de Jack-a-my-lanterns git after me.
Dat a light you sees all 'round you. Dey follow all 'long and dey stop
you still. Den one time it git all over me. Come like de wind, blow,
blow, and come jes' like fire all on my arm and my clothes and things. When
dat git after me I quit huntin' at nighttime and ain't been huntin'
since.
"One time I fishin' on de creek and I ain't got no gun, and I look up
and dere a big, wild cat. He never pay me no mind, no more dan nothin',
but dat ain't made no diff'rence to me. I jes' flew in dat creek!
"I used to belong to de lodge but when I git so old I couldn't pay my
jews, I git unfinancial and I ain't a member no more.
420174
MINERVA BENDY, 83, was born a slave to Lazarus Goolsby, Henry Co.
Alabama, who brought her to Texas when she was five. They settled
near Woodville, where Minerva still lives.
"My earlies' 'membrance was de big, white sandy road what lead 'way from
de house. It was clean and white and us chillen love to walk in de soft,
hot sand. Dat in Henry County, Alabama, where I's born and my old
marster was Lazarus Goolsby and he have de big plantation with lots of
nigger folks. I 'member jus' as good as yesterday wigglin' my toes in
dat sandy road and runnin' 'way to de grits mill where dey grind de
meal. Dat have de big water wheel dat sing and squeak as it go 'round.
"Aunt Mary, she make all us little chillen sleep in de heat of de day
under de big, spreadin' oak tree in de yard. My mama have 17 chillen.
Her name Dollie and my daddy name Herd.
"I's jus' a little chile in dem days and I stay in de house with de
white folks. Dey raise me a pet in de family. Missus Goolsby, she have
two gals and dey give me to de oldest. When she die dey put me in de bed
with her but iffen I knowed she dyin' dey wouldn't been able to cotch
me. She rub my head and tell her papa and mama, 'I's gwine 'way but I
wants you promise you ain't never whip my little nigger.' Dey never did.