of cotton and corn and rice and ribbon cane we raised in the bottoms, we
had veg'tables and sheep and beef. We dried the beef on scaffolds we
built and I used to tend it. But bes' of anythin' to eat, I liked a big,
fat coon, and I allus liked honey. Some the niggers had li'l garden
patches they tended for themselves.
"Everythin' I tell you am the truth, but they's plenty I can't tell you.
I heard plenty things from my mammy and grandpappy. He was a fine diver
and used to dive in the Alabama river for things what was wrecked out of
boats, and the white folks would git him to go down for things they
wanted. They'd let him down by a rope to find things on the bottom of
the riverbed. He used to git a piece of money for doin' it.
"My grandmammy was a juksie, 'cause her mammy was a nigger and her daddy
a Choctaw Indian. That's what makes me so mixed up with Indian and
African and white blood. Sometimes it mattered to me, sometimes it
didn't. It don't no more, 'cause I'm not too far from the end of my
days.
"I had one brother and one sister I helped raise. They was mostly
nigger. The Carters told me never to worry 'bout them, though, 'cause my
mammy was of their blood and all of us in our fam'ly would never be
sold, and sometime they'd make free man and women of us. My brother and
sister lived with the niggers, though.
"I was trained for a houseboy and to tend the cows. The bears was so bad
then, a 'sponsible pusson who could carry a gun had to look after them.
"My massa used to give me a li'l money 'long, to buy what I wanted. I
allus bought fine clothes. In the summer when I was a li'l one, I wore
lowerin's, like the rest of the niggers. That was things made from
cotton sackin'. Most the boys wore shirttails till they was big
yearlin's. When they bought me red russets from the town, I cried and
cried. I didn't want to wear no rawhide shoes. So they took 'em back.
They had a weakness for my cryin'. I did have plenty fine clothes, good
woolen suits they spinned on the place, and doeskins and fine linens. I
druv in the car'age with the white folks and was 'bout the mos' dudish
nigger in them parts.
"I used to tend the nurslin' thread. The reason they called it that was
when the mammies was confined with babies havin' to suck, they had to
spin. I'd take them the thread and bring it back to the house when it
was spinned. If they didn't spin seven or eight cuts a day, they'd git a
whuppin'. It was consid'ble hard on a woman when she had a frettin'
baby. But every mornin' them babies had to be took to the big house, so
the white folks could see if they's dressed right. They was money tied
up in li'l nigger young'uns.
"They whupped the women and they whupped the mens. I used to work some
in the tan'ry and we made the whips. They'd tie them down to a stob, and
give 'em the whuppin'. Some niggers, it taken four men to whup 'em, but
they got it. The nigger driver was meaner than the white folks. They'd
better not leave a blade of grass in the rows. I seed 'em beat a nigger
half a day to make him 'fess up to stealin' a sheep or a shoat. Or
they'd whup 'em for runnin' away, but not so hard if they come back of
their own 'cordance when they got hungry and sick in the swamps. But
when they had to run 'em down with the nigger dogs, they'd git in bad
trouble.
"The Carters never did have any real 'corrigible niggers, but I heard of
'em plenty on other places. When they was real 'corrigible, the white
folks said they was like mad dogs and didn't mind to kill them so much
as killin' a sheep. They'd take 'em to the graveyard and shoot 'em down
and bury 'em face downward, with their shoes on. I never seed it done,
but they made some the niggers go for a lesson to them that they could
git the same.
"But I didn't even have to carry a pass to leave my own place, like the
other niggers. I had a cap with a sign on it: 'Don't bother this
nigger, or there will be Hell to pay.' I went after the mail, in the
town. It come in coaches and they put on fresh hosses at Pineapple. The
coachman run the hosses into Pineapple with a big to-do and blowin' the
bugle to git the fresh hosses ready. I got the mail. I was a trusty all
my days and never been 'rested by the law to this day.
"I never had no complaints for my treatment, but some the niggers hated
syrup makin' time, 'cause when they had to work till midnight makin'
syrup, its four o'clock up, jus' the same. Sun-up to sundown was for
fiel' niggers.
"Corn shuckin' was fun. Them days no corn was put in the cribs with
shucks on it. They shucked it in the fiel' and shocked the fodder. They
did it by sides and all hands out. A beef was kilt and they'd have a
reg'lar picnic feastin'. They was plenty whiskey for the niggers, jus'
like Christmas.
"Christmas was the big day at the Carter's. Presents for every body, and
the bakin' and preparin' went on for days. The li'l ones and the big
ones were glad, 'specially the nigger mens, 'count of plenty good
whiskey. Mr. Oll Carter got the bes' whiskey for his niggers.
"We used to have frolics, too. Some niggers had fiddles and played the
reels, and niggers love to dance and sing and eat.
"Course niggers had their ser'ous side, too. They loved to go to church
and had a li'l log chapel for worship. But I went to the white folks
church. In the chapel some nigger mens preached from the Bible, but
couldn't read a line no more than a sheep could. The Carters didn't mind
their niggers prayin' and singin' hymns, but some places wouldn't 'low
them to worship a-tall, and they had to put their heads in pots to sing
or pray.
"Mos' the niggers I know, who had their mar'age put in the book, did it
after the breakin' up, plenty after they had growned chillen. When they
got married on the places, mostly they jus' jumped over a broom and
that made 'em married. Sometimes one the white folks read a li'l out of
the Scriptures to 'em and they felt more married.
"Take me, I was never one for sickness. But the slaves used to git sick.
There was jaundice in them bottoms. First off they'd give some castor
oil, and if that didn't cure they'd give blue mass. Then if he was still
sick they'd git a doctor.
"They used to cry the niggers off jus' like so much cattle, and we
didn't think no diff'rent of it. I seed them put them on the block and
brag on them somethin' big. Everybody liked to hear them cry off
niggers. The cryer was a clown and made funny talk and kep' everybody
laughin'.
"When massa and the other mens on the place went off to war, he called
me and said, 'Cato, you's allus been a 'sponsible man, and I leave you
to look after the women and the place. If I don't come back, I want you
to allus stay by Missie Adeline! I said, 'Fore Gawd, I will, Massa Oll.'
He said, 'Then I can go away peaceable.'
"We thought for a long time the sojers had the Fed'rals whupped to
pieces, but there was plenty bad times to go through. I carried a gun
and guarded the place at nighttime. The paddyrollers was bad. I cotched
one and took him to the house more'n once. They wore black caps and put
black rags over their faces and was allus skullduggerying 'round at
night. We didn't use torches any more when we went 'round at night,
'cause we was afeared. We put out all the fires 'round the house at
nighttime.
"The young mens in grey uniforms used to pass so gay and singin', in the
big road. Their clothes was good and we used to feed them the best we
had on the place. Missie Adeline would say, 'Cato, they is our boys and
give them the best this place 'fords.' We taken out the hams and the
wine and kilt chickens for them. That was at first.
"Then the boys and mens in blue got to comin' that way, and they was
fine lookin' men, too. Missie Adeline would cry and say, 'Cato, they is
just mens and boys and we got to feed them, too.' We had a pavilion
built in the yard, like they had at picnics, and we fed the Fed'rals in
that. Missie Adeline set in to cryin' and says to the Yankees, 'Don't
take Cato. He is the only nigger man I got by me now. If you take Cato,
I just don't know what I'll do.' I tells them sojers I got to stay by
Missie Adeline so long as I live. The Yankee mens say to her, 'Don't
'sturb youself, we ain't gwine to take Cato or harm nothin' of yours.'
The reason they's all right by us, was 'cause we prepared for them, but
with some folks they was rough somethin' ter'ble. They taken off their
hosses and corn.
"I seed the trees bend low and shake all over and heard the roar and
poppin' of cannon balls. There was springs not too far from our place
and the sojers used to camp there and build a fire and cook a mule,
'cause they'd got down to starvation. When some of the guerillas seed
the fire they'd aim to it, and many a time they spoiled that dinner for
them sojers. The Yankees did it and our boys did it, too. There was
killin' goin' on so ter'ble, like people was dogs.
"Massa Oll come back and he was all wore out and ragged. He soon called
all the niggers to the front yard and says, 'Mens and womens, you are
today as free as I am. You are free to do as you like, 'cause the damned
Yankees done 'creed you are. They ain't a nigger on my place what was
born here or ever lived here who can't stay here and work and eat to the
end of his days, as long as this old place will raise peas and goobers.
Go if you wants, and stay if you wants.' Some of the niggers stayed and
some went, and some what had run away to the North come back. They allus
called, real humble like, at the back gate to Missie Adeline, and she
allus fixed it up with Massa Oll they could have a place.
"Near the close of the war I seed some folks leavin' for Texas. They
said if the Fed'rals won the war they'd have to live in Texas to keep
slaves. So plenty started driftin' their slaves to the west. They'd pass
with the womens ridin' in the wagons and the mens on foot. Some took
slaves to Texas after the Fed'rals done 'creed the breakin' up.
"Long as I lived I minded what my white folks told me, 'cept one time.
They was a nigger workin' in the fiel' and he kept jerkin' the mules and
Massa Oll got mad, and he give me a gun and said, 'Go out there and kill
that man.' I said, 'Massa Oll, please don't tell me that. I ain't never
kilt nobody and I don't want to.' He said, 'Cato, you do what I tell
you.' He meant it. I went out to the nigger and said, 'You has got to
leave this minute, and I is, too, 'cause I is 'spose to kill you, only I
ain't and Massa Oll will kill me.' He drops the hanes and we run and
crawled through the fence and ran away.
"I hated to go, 'cause things was so bad, and flour sold for $25.00 a
barrel, and pickled pork for $15.00 a barrel. You couldn't buy nothin'
lessen with gold. I had plenty of 'federate money, only it wouldn't buy
nothin'.
"But today I is a old man and my hands ain't stained with no blood. I is
allus been glad I didn't kill that man.
"Mules run to a ter'ble price then. A right puny pair of mules sold for
$500.00. But the Yankees give me a mule and I farmed a year for a white
man and watched a herd of mules, too. I stayed with them mules till four
o'clock even Sundays. So many scoundrels was goin' 'bout, stealin'
mules.
"That year I was boun' out by 'greement with the white man, and I made
$360.00. The bureau come by that year lookin' at nigger's contracts, to
see they didn't git skunt out their rightful wages. Missie Adeline and
Massa Oll didn't stay mad at me and every Sunday they come by to see me,
and brung me li'l del'cate things to eat.
"The Carters said a hunerd times they regretted they never larned me to
read or write, and they said my daddy done put up $500.00 for me to go
to the New Allison school for cullud folks. Miss Benson, a Yankee, was
the teacher. I was twenty-nine years old and jus' startin' in the
blueback speller. I went to school a while, but one mornin' at ten
o'clock my poor old mammy come by and called me out. She told me she got
put out, 'cause she too old to work in the fiel'. I told her not to
worry, that I'm the family man now, and she didn't never need to git any
more three-quarter hand wages no more.
"So I left school and turnt my hand to anything I could find for years.
I never had no trouble findin' work, 'cause all the white folks knowed
Cato was a good nigger. I lef' my mammy with some fine white folks and
she raised a whole family of chillen for them. Their name was Bryan and
they lived on a li'l bayou. Them young'uns was crazy 'bout mammy and
they'd send me word not to worry about her, 'cause she'd have the bes'
of care and when she died they'd tend to her buryin'.
"Finally I come to Texas, 'cause I thought there was money for the
takin' out here. I got a job splittin' rails for two years and from then
on I farmed, mostly. I married a woman and lived with her forty-seven
years, rain or shine. We had thirteen chillen and eight of them is
livin' today.
"Endurin' the big war I got worried 'bout my li'l black mammy and I
wanted to go back home and see her and the old places. I went, and she
was shriveled up to not much of anything. That's the last time I saw
her. But for forty-four years I didn't forget to send her things I
thought she'd want. I saw Massa Oll and he done married after I left and
raised a family of chillen. I saw Missie Adeline and she was a old
woman. We went out and looked at the tombstones and the rock
markers in the graveyard on the old place, and some of them done near
melted away. I looked good at lots of things, 'cause I knowed I wouldn't
be that way 'gain. So many had gone on since I'd been there befo'.
"After my first wife died I married 'gain and my wife is a good woman
but she's old and done lost her voice, and has to be in Terrell most the
time. But I git 'long all right, 'cept my hands cramps some.
"You goin' take my picture? I lived through plenty and I lived a long
time, but this is the first time I ever had my picture took. If I'd
knowed you wanted to do that, I'd have tidied up and put on my best.
420276
JACK CAUTHERN, 85, was born near Austin, Texas. Dick Townes owned
Jack and his parents. After they were freed, the family stayed on
the plantation, but Jack went to San Angelo, because "times was too
dull in Travis County."
"My master was Dick Townes and my folks come with him from Alabama. He
owned a big plantation fifteen miles from Austin and worked
lots of slaves. We had the best master in the whole county, and
everybody called us "Townes' free niggers," he was so good to us, and we
worked hard for him, raisin' cotton and corn and wheat and oats.
"Most the slaves lived in two-room log cabins with dirt floors, over in
the quarters, but I lived in master's yard. That's where I was born.
There was a tall fence 'tween the yard and the quarters and the other
nigger boys was so jealous of me they wouldn't let me cross that fence
into the quarters. They told me I thinked I was white, jes' for livin'
in master's yard.
"Me and young master had the good times. He was nigh my age and we'd
steal chickens from Old Miss and go down in the orchard and barbecue
'em. One time she cotched us and sho' wore us out! She'd send us to pick
peas, but few peas we picked!
"Old Miss was good to her cullud folks. When she'd hear a baby cryin' in
the night she'd put on boots and take her lantern and go see about it.
If we needed a doctor she'd send for old Dr. Rector and when I had the
measles he give me some pills big as the end of my finger.
"We went to church all the time. Young Miss come over Sunday mornin' and
fotched all us chillen to the house and read the Bible to us. She was
kind of a old maid and that was her pleasure. We had baptisin's, too.
One old cullud man was a preacher. Lawd, Lawd, we had shoutin' at them
camp meetin's!
"I guess we was glad to be free. Old master done die and Old Miss was
managin' the plantation. She had the whole bunch in the yard and read
the freedom paper. The old slaves knowed what it meant, but us young
ones didn't. She told everybody they could stay and work on shares and
most of 'em did, but some went back to they old homes in Alabama.
"I stayed a while and married, and came to San Angelo. The reason I
come, times was dull in Travis County and I done hear so much talk 'bout
this town I said I was comin' and see for myself. That was in 1900 and
it was jes' a forest here then. I worked eighteen years in McCloskey's
saloon, and he gave me ten dollars every Christmas 'sides my pay and a
suit every year. I wish he was livin' now. My wife and I was together
fifty-two years and then she died. After a long time I married again,
and my wife is out pickin' cotton now.
"It seem mighty hard to me now by side of old times, but I don't know if
it was any better in slavery days. It seems mighty hard though, since
I'm old and can't work.
420154
SALLY BANKS CHAMBERS, wife of Ben Chambers of Liberty, does not
know her age. She was born a slave of Jim Moore, in Oakland,
Louisiana. Sally has been married three times and has had seven
children, about 54 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren. Heavy
gold earrings hang from her ears and she dresses, even in
midsummer, in a long-sleeved calico shirt, heavy socks and shoes,
and a sweeping skirt many yards wide.
"Befo' I marry de first time my name am Sally Banks, and I's borned in
de old states, over in Louisiana, round Oakland. I ain't 'member nothin'
'bout dat place, 'cause I's so small when dey brung me to Texas.
"Old massa name Jim Moore. He a fair old gen'man, with a big bald place
on he head, and he am good to de slaves. Not even as stric' as old
missus, what was de big, stout woman. She am terrible stric', but she
whip de li'l white chillen too, so dey be good.
"My daddy name John Moore and mama name Car'line, and dey borned in
Louisiana. My grandpa was Lewis Moore and grandma name Polly, but dey
wasn't reg'lar Africy people. My grandma, she have right smart good
blood in her.
"When old massa come to Texas he brung us over first by wagon, a mule
wagon with a cover over de top, and he rent de house clost to Liberty.
But de nex' year he find a place on de river bottom near Grand Cane and
it jes' suit him for de slaves he have, so he brung all de rest over
from Louisiana.
"My mama have four chillen when us come to Texas, but she have eleven
more after freedom. When war broke out she have six, but she multiply
after dat. She de milker and washwoman and spinner, and make de good,
strong clothes.
"Dey have li'l separate houses make outten logs for us slaves. De white
folks house was one dese big, old double-pen house, with de hall down de
middle. Dey have right nice things in it.
"De white folks 'lowance out de food every Saturday night and dat spose
last de week. All de cullud folks cook for deyself 'cept'n de single
mens, and dey eats up in de big kitchen. Us have syrup and cornbread and
lots of sweet 'taters and homecure' meat what dey salt down and hang in
de smokehouse.
"De old missus, she ain't 'low no dancin' or huzzawin' round dat place,
'cause she Christian. Dey 'low us Saturday and Sunday off, and de women
do dey own washin den'. De menfolks tend to de gardens round dey own
house. Dey raise some cotton and sell it to massa and git li'l money dat
way. Us don't never have no presents, but dey give eatments mostly.
"De young massas both go to war. Dey John Calhoun Moore and William. De
oldes' goes crazy, kind of shellshock like. As far as I knowed, he ain't
never git no more better. Young William and de old man comes back
without no scratch, but dey ain't serve long. All dey three 'lists by
deyselfs, 'cause dey didn't have no truck with dem conscrip'ers. One my
uncles, Levy Moore, he go to war to wait on de massas, and he struck
with de fever at Sabine Pass and die right dere.
"After freedom riz up, old massa come home. Den he call all de growed
folks and tell dem dey's free. A heap left, dey jes' broke ranks and
left. My daddy and mama both stay. Dey de fav'rites. Old missus make
present to my mama of a heap of things she need. But de white folks was
jus' rentin' and when dey have no slaves no more dey give it up and move
to Tarkington Prairie. Us lost track of dem and ain't never seed dem no
more.
"My daddy come back to Liberty den and work in de woodyard. Mama, she
larn me to work and cook and sich and hire me out to nuss a white baby.
I ain't knowed how much dey pay, 'cause mama she collec' de money.
"I's 19 year old when I marry de first time. You know I got two dead
men, dat Dick Owens and Nero Williams, both of Liberty. I has two gals,
Alice and Airy, for Dick, and five chillen for Nero. Dey all dead but
Adlowyer and Mamie, and dey lives right here. I been marry some thirty
odd year to Ben Chambers but us ain't never have no chillen.
"Goodness, I dunno how many grandchillen I has. I jedge 'bout 54 in all
and 13 great ones.
"I loves to work and I ain't gwineter beg, though I's got too old to do
much. I can't take it but a li'l at a time, but I gits by somehow.
420179
JEPTHA CHOICE, 1117 Brashear St., Houston, Texas, was born in
slavery, on the plantation of Jezro Choice, about 6 miles south of
Henderson, Texas. Jeptha was sent to school with the white
children, and after he was freed, he was sent to school for several
years, and became a teacher. He moved to Houston in 1888 and opened
a barber shop. Jeptha claims to have been born on Oct. 17, 1835,
which would make him 101 years old. He has the appearance of
extreme age, but has a retentive memory, and his manner of speaking
varies from fairly good English to typical Negro dialect and idiom.
"I'll be 102 years old, come fall, 'cause my mother told me I was born
on Oct. 17, 1835, and besides, I was about 30 years old at the end of
the Civil War. We belonged to the Choices and I was born on their
plantation. My mother's name was Martha and she had been brought here
from Serbia. My father's name was John and he was from the East Indies.
They was brought to this country in a slave boat owned by Captain Adair
and sold to someone at New Orleans before Master Jezro Choice bought
them. I had five sisters and one brother but they are all dead, 'cepting
one brother who lives near Henderson.
"Master Jezro was right kind. He had 50 or 60 slaves and a grist mill
and tannery besides the plantation. My white folks sort of picked me out
and I went to school with the white children. I went to the fields when
I was about 20, but I didn't do much field works, 'cause they was
keepin' me good and they didn't want to strain me.
"On Sunday we just put an old Prince Albert coat on some good nigger and
made a preacher out of him. We niggers had our band, too, and I was one
of the players.
"The master was mighty careful about raisin' healthy nigger families and
used us strong, healthy young bucks to stand the healthy nigger gals.
When I was young they took care not to strain me and I was as handsome
as a speckled pup and was in demand for breedin'. Later on we niggers
was 'lowed to marry and the master and missus would fix the nigger and
gal up and have the doin's in the big house. The white folks would
gather round in a circle with the nigger and gal in the center and then
master laid a broom on the floor and they held hands and jumped over it.
That married 'em for good.
"When babies was born old nigger grannies handled them cases, but until
they was about three years old they wasn't 'lowed round the quarters,
but was wet nursed by women who didn't work in the field and kept in
separate quarters and in the evenin' their mammies were let to see 'em.
"We was fed good and had lots of beef and hawg meat and wild game.
Possum and sweet yams is mighty good. You parboil the possum about half
done and put him in a skewer pan and put him in a hot oven and just
'fore he is done you puts the yams in the pan and sugar on 'em. That's a
feast.
"Sometimes when they's short of bread the old missus would say, 'How
'bout some ash cakes?' Then they'd mix cornmeal and water and sweep
ashes out of the open hearth and bake the ash cakes.
"The master and his boys was all kilt in the war and after freedom I
stayed all summer. It was pretty tough on us niggers for a while, 'cause
the womenfolks what was left after the war didn't have money. But
Colonel Jones, the master's son-in-law, took me to live in Henderson and
paid twenty-five cents a week for more schoolin' for me and I learned
through fractions. Then I got me a job teachin' school about six months
a year and in off times I'd farm. I did lots of different kinds of work,
on the narrow gauge railroad out of Longview and I learned to be a
barber, too. But I had to give it up a few years back 'cause I can't
stand up so long any more and now I'm tryin' to help my people by divine
healing.
420243
[Illustration: Amos Clark's Sorghun Mill]
[Illustration: Amos Clark]
AMOS CLARK, 96, was born a slave of Robert Clark, in Washington
County, Texas. After Amos was freed, he farmed near Belton, Texas.
Amos now lives in Waco.