he crop 'fore de flood gits it. We has some hawgs to kill ev'ry winter
and we has our cornmeal and milk and eggs and chickens, so de 'pression
ain't starved us yit. We all got might' nigh naked durin' de 'pression.
I feeds de hawgs and chickens night and mornin'. I can't see dem, but I
likes to listen to dem eatin' and cackle. People don't know how dey's
blessed with good eyes, till dey loses dem. Everybody ought to be more
thankful dan they is.
"I ain't never voted in my life. I leans to de 'publicans. I don't know
much 'bout politics, though.
"Today I is broke, 'cause I spent all my money for med'cine and doctors,
but I gits a small pension and I spends it mos' careful.
420270
ELI COLEMAN, 91, was born a slave of George Brady, in Kentucky.
Eli's memory is poor and his story is somewhat sketchy. He now
lives in Madisonville, Texas.
"I has a old bill of sale, and it shows I's born in 1846 and my massa am
George Brady. I know my pappy's name was same as mine, and mammy was
Ella, and I had one brother named Sam, and my sisters was Sadie and Rosa
and Viola. They's all dead now.
"Pappy was owned by Massa Coleman, what was brother to Massa Brady.
Pappy could only see mammy once a week when he's courtin' for her. I
heard pappy tell 'bout his pappy, over in Africy, and he had near a
hundred wives and over three hundred chillen.
"Pappy never did work. All he ever did was trade. He'd make one thing
and 'nother and trade it for something to eat. He could get lots of
fruit and game out of the woods them days, and there was lots of fish.
"Our log house was built of logs, trimmed, and had six rooms. It was
long, like a cowbarn or chicken house, and my room was third. We had one
door to each room, covered over with hides. We dug out one corner for
the bed and fenced it up and gathered straw and moss and tore-up corn
shucks, and put in the corner to sleep on. What I mean, it was a warm
bed.
"We did all kinds of work, choppin' cotton and split rails and cut rock,
and work in the tobacco field. We'd cut that tobacco and hang it in the
shed to dry. It had to be hanged by the stubble end.
"We had plenty to eat, sech as corn pones. The corn was grated by hand
and cooked in ashes, and no salt or soda or fancy things like they put
in bread now.
"There was possum and rabbit and we cooked them different to now. A
great big, old pot hung over the old rock fireplace. Food cooked that
way still eats good. Massa Brady allus give us lots out of the garden.
He fed us reg'lar on good, 'stantial food, jus' like you'd tend to you
hoss, if you had a real good one.
"Massa Brady, he was one these jolly fellows and a real good man, allus
good to his black folks. Missy, she was plumb angel. They lived in a old
stone house with four big rooms. It was the best house in the whole
county and lots of shade trees by it.
"We had 'bout a hundred acres in our plantation and started to the field
'fore daylight and worked long as we could see, and fed ane stock and
got to bed 'bout nine o'clock. Massa whopped a slave if he got stubborn
or lazy. He whopped one so hard that slave said he'd kill him. So Massa
done put a chain round his legs, so he jus' hardly walk, and he has to
work in the field that way. At night he put 'nother chain round his neck
and fastened it to a tree. After three weeks massa turnt him loose and
that the proudes' nigger in the world, and the hardes' workin' nigger
massa had after that.
"On Saturday night we could git a pass or have a party on our own place.
Through the week we'd fall into our quarters and them patterrollers come
walk all over us, and we'd be plumb still, but after they done gone some
niggers gits up and out.
"On Christmas Day massa make a great big eggnog and let us have all we
wants with a big dinner. He kilt a yearlin' and made plenty barbecue for
us.
"Massa was a colonel in the war and took me along to care for his hoss
and gun. Them guns, you couldn't hear nothin' for them poppin'. Us
niggers had to go all over and pick up them what got kilt. Them what was
hurt we carried back. Them what was too bad hurt we had to carry to the
burying place and the white man'd finish killin' them, so we could roll
them in the hole.
"When massa say we're free, we all 'gun to take on. We didn't have no
place to go and asked massa could we stay, but he say no. But he did let
some stay and furnished teams and something to eat and work on the
halves. I stayed and was sharecropper, and that was when slavery start,
for when we got our cop made it done take every bit of it to pay our
debts and we had nothing left to buy winter clothes or pay doctor bills.
"'Bout a year after the war I marries Nora Brady, jus' a home weddin'. I
asks her to come live with me as my wife and she 'greed and she jus'
moved her clothes to my room and we lived together a long time. One
mornin' Nora jus' died, and there warn't no chillen, so I sets out for
Texas. I done hear the railroad is buildin' in Texas and they hires lots
of niggers. I gits a hoss from massa and rolls up a few clothes and gits
my gun.
"I never got very far 'fore the Indians takes my hoss away from me. It
was 'bout fifty mile to a train and I didn't have no money, but I found
a white man what wants wood cut and I works near a month for him and
gits $2.00. I gits on a train and comes a hundred mile from where that
railroad was goin' 'cross the country, and I has to walk near all that
hundred miles. Once and now a white man comin' or goin' lets me ride.
But I got there and the job pays me sixty cents a day. That was lots of
money them days. Near as I 'member, it was 1867 or 1868 when I comes to
Texas.
"Then I marries Agnes Frazer, and we has a big weddin' and a preacher
and a big supper for two or three weeks. Her pappy kilt game and we et
barbecue all the time. We had eleven chillen, one a year for a long
time, five boys and six gals. One made a school teacher and I ain't seen
her nearly forty-five years, 'cause she done took a notion to go north
and they won't let her back in Texas 'cause she married a white man in
New York. I don't like that. She don't have no sense or she wouldn't
done that, no, sir.
"Since the nigger been free it been Hell on the poor old nigger. He has
advance some ways, but he's still a servant and will be, long as Gawd's
curse still stay on the Negro race. We was turnt loose without nothin'
and done been under the white man rule so long we couldn't hold no job
but labor. I worked most two years on that railroad and the rest my life
I farms. Now I gits a little pension from the gov'ment and them white
folks am sho' good to give it to me, 'cause I ain't good for work no
more.
420003
[Illustration: Preely Coleman]
PREELY COLEMAN was born in 1852 on the Souba farm, near New Berry,
South Carolina, but he and his mother were sold and brought to
Texas when Preely was a month old. They settled near Alto, Texas.
Preely now lives in Tyler.
"I'm Preely Coleman and I never gits tired of talking. Yes, ma'am, it am
Juneteenth, but I'm home, 'cause I'm too old now to go on them
celerabrations. Where was I born? I knows that 'zactly, 'cause my mammy
tells me that a thousand times. I was born down on the old Souba place,
in South Carolina, 'bout ten mile from New Berry. My mammy belonged to
the Souba family, but its a fact one of the Souba boys was my pappy and
so the Soubas sells my mammy to Bob and Dan Lewis and they brung us to
Texas 'long with a big bunch of other slaves. Mammy tells me it was a
full month 'fore they gits to Alto, their new home.
"When I was a chile I has a purty good time, 'cause there was plenty
chillen on the plantation. We had the big races. Durin' the war the
sojers stops by on the way to Mansfield, in Louisiana, to git somethin'
to eat and stay all night, and then's when we had the races. There was a
mulberry tree we'd run to and we'd line up and the sojers would say,
'Now the first one to slap that tree gits a quarter,' and I nearly allus
gits there first. I made plenty quarters slappin' that old mulberry
tree!
"So the chillen gits into their heads to fix me, 'cause I wins all the
quarters. They throws a rope over my head and started draggin down the
road, and down the hill, and I was nigh 'bout choked to death. My only
friend was Billy and he was a-fightin', tryin' to git me loose. They was
goin' to throw me in the big spring at the foot of that hill, but we
meets Capt. Berryman, a white man, and he took his knife and cut the
rope from my neck and took me by the heels and soused me up and down in
the spring till I come to. They never tries to kill me any more.
"My mammy done married John Selman on the way to Texas, no cere'mony,
you knows, but with her massa's consent. Now our masters, the Lewises,
they loses their place and then the Selman's buy me and mammy. They pays
$1,500 for my mammy and I was throwed in.
"Massa Selman has five cabins in he backyard and they's built like half
circle. I grows big 'nough to hoe and den to plow. We has to be ready
for the field by daylight and the conk was blowed, and massa call out,
'All hands ready for the field.' At 11:30 he blows the conk, what am the
mussel shell, you knows, 'gain and we eats dinner, and at 12:30 we has
to be back at work. But massa wouldn't 'low no kind of work on Sunday.
"Massa Tom made us wear the shoes, 'cause they's so many snags and
stumps our feets gits sore, and they was red russet shoes. I'll never
forgit 'em, they was so stiff at first we could hardly stand 'em. But
Massa Tom was a good man, though he did love he dram. He kep' the bottle
in the center of the dining table all the time and every meal he'd have
the toddy. Us slaves et out under the trees in summer and in the kitchen
in winter and most gen'rally we has bread in pot liquor or milk, but
sometimes honey.
"I well 'members when freedom come. We was in the field and massa comes
up and say, 'You all is free as I is.' There was shoutin' and singin'
and 'fore night us was all 'way to freedom.
420292
HARRIET COLLINS was born in Houston, Texas, in 1870. Her family had
been slaves of Richard Coke, and remained with him many years after
they were freed. Harriet recalls some incidents of Reconstruction
days, and believes in the superstitions handed down to her from
slave days.
"My birthday done come in January, on de tenth. I's birthed in Houston,
in 1870, and Gov. Richard Coke allus had owned my daddy and mammy, and
dey stayed with him after freedom. Mammy, what was Julia Collins, didn't
die till 1910, and she was most a hundred year old.
"She done told me many a time 'bout how folkses git all worked up over
Marse Coke's 'lection. Mammy took lunch to de Capitol House to Marse
Richard, and dere he am on de top floor with all he congressmen and dat
Davis man and he men on de bottom floor, tryin' to say Marse Richard
ain't got no right to be governor dis here State. Old Miss and de
folkses didn't sleep a wink dat night, 'cause dey thunk it sho' be a
fight. Dat in 1873, Mammy allus say.
"De old place at Houston was like most all old places. Dere was little,
small dormer windows, dey call 'em, in upstairs, and big porches
everywhere. Dere was 'hogany furniture and rosewood bedsteads, and big,
black walnut dressers with big mirrors and little ones down de side. Old
Miss allus have us keep de drapes white as drifted snow, and polish de
furniture till it shine. Dere was sofies with dem claw foots, and lots
of purty chiny and silver.
"On de farm out from town dere was de log house, with quarters and de
smokehouse and washhouse and big barns and carriage house. De quarters
was little, whitewashed, log houses, one for de family, and a fence of
de split palin's round most of dem.
"De white and cullud chillen played together, all over de place. Dey
went fishin' and rode de plough hosses and run de calves and colts and
sech devilment. De little white gals all had to wear sunbonnets, and Old
Miss, she sew dem bonnets on every day, so dey not git sunburnt. Us
niggers weared de long, duckin' shirts till us git 'bout growed, and den
us weared long, dark blue dresses. Dey had spinnin' and weavin' rooms,
where de cullud women makes de clothes.
"Old Miss, she sho' a powerful manager. She knowed jes' how much meal
and meat and sorghum it gwine take to run de plantation a year. She know
jes' how much thread it take for spinnin', and she bossed de settin'
hens and turkeys and fixin' of 'serves and soap. She was sho' good to
you iffen you work and do like she tell you. Many a night she go round
to see dat all was right. She a powerful good nuss, too, and so was
mammy.
"De white folks had good times. Dey'd go hossback ridin' and on picnics,
and fishin' and have big dinners and balls. Come Christmas, dey have us
slaves cut a big lot of wood and keep fires all night for a week or two.
De house be lit with candles from top to toe, and lots of company come.
For dinner us have turkey and beef roast and a big 'ginny ham and big
bowls of eggnog and a pitcher of apple cider and apple toddy. All us git
somethin' on Christmas and plenty eggnog, but no gittin' drunk.
"I can jes' see Marse Dick, tall and kinder stooped like, with de big
flop hat and longtail coat and allus carryin' a big, old walkin' stick.
He was sho' a brave man and de big men say dey likes dat flop hat,
'cause dey done follow it on de battlefield. He had a big voice and dey
do tell how, in de war, he'd holler, 'Come on, boys,' and de bullets be
like hail and men fallin' all round, but dat don't stop Marse Dick. He'd
take off dat flop hat and plunge right on and dey'd foller he bald head
where de fight was hottes'. He was sho' a man!
"When I gits married it was eight folkses dere, I jus' walks off and
goes to housekeepin'. I had a calico dress and a Baptist preacher
marries us.
"Dere been some queer things white folks can't understand. Dere am
folkses can see de spirits, but I can't. My mammy larned me a lots of
doctorin', what she larnt from old folkses from Africy, and some de
Indians larnt her. If you has rheumatism, jes' take white sassafras root
and bile it and drink de tea. You makes lin'ment by bilin' mullein
flowers and poke roots and alum and salt. Put red pepper in you shoes
and keep de chills off, or string briars round de neck. Make red or
black snakeroot tea to cure fever and malaria, but git de roots in de
spring when de sap am high.
"When chillen teethin' put rattlesnake rattles round de neck, and
alligator teeth am good, too. Show de new moon money and you'll have
money all month. Throw her five kisses and show her money and make five
wishes and you'll git dem. Eat black-eyed peas on New Year and have luck
all dat year:
"'Dose black-eyed peas is lucky,
When et on New Year's Day;
You'll allus have sweet 'taters
And possum come you way.'
"When anybody git cut I allus burns woolen rags and smokes de wound or
burns a piece fat pine and drops tar from it on scorched wool and bind
it on de wound. For headache put a horseradish poultice on de head, or
wear a nutmeg on a string round you neck.
If you kills de first snake you sees in spring, you enemies ain't gwine
git de best of you dat year. For a sprain, git a dirt dauber's nest and
put de clay with vinegar and bind round de sprain. De dime on de string
round my ankle keeps cramps out my leg, and tea from red coon-root good,
too. All dese doctorin' things come clear from Africy, and dey allus
worked for mammy and for me, too.
420187
ANDREW (Smoky) COLUMBUS was born in 1859 on the John J. Ellington
plantation, one mile south of Linden, Texas. He continued in the
service of the Ellingtons until about 1878, when he moved to
Jefferson, Texas. He carried meals to Abe Rothchild, who was in
jail, charged with the murder of Diamond Bessie Moore. Andrew was
37 years a servant of Hon. Tom Armistead, and was a porter in the
Capital at Austin when Armistead was a senator. Andrew now lives in
Marshall, Texas.
"I was bo'n a slave of Master John Ellington, who lived in Davis County
(now Cass Co.), Texas. Master John had a big house and close by was a
long, double row of slave quarters. It looked like a town. There was
four boys and two girls in Master's fam'ly and one daughter, Miss Lula,
married Lon Morris, that run the Lon Morris School.
"Master John was one white man that sho' took care of his niggers. He
give us plenty warm clothes and good shoes, and come see us and had Dr.
Hume doctor us when we was sick. The niggers et ham and middlin' and
good eats as anybody. Master John's place joined the Haggard place,
where they was lots of wild turkey and the slaves could go huntin' and
fishin' when they wanted.
"We had a church and a school for the slaves and the white folks helped
us git book learnin'. Mos' of the niggers allus went to preachin' on
Sunday.
"The hands didn't work Saturday afternoons. That's when we'd wash our
clothes and clean up for Sunday. There was parties and dances on
Saturday night for them as wanted them. But there wasn't no whiskey
drinkin' and fightin' at the parties. Mammy didn't go to them. She was
religious and didn't believe in dancin' and sech like. On Christmas
Master John allus give the slaves a big dinner and it didn't seem like
slavery time. The niggers had a sight better time than they do now.
"Master John did all the bossin' hisself. None of his niggers ever run
off 'cause he was too good for them to do that. I only got one whippin'
from him and it was for stealin' eggs from a hen's nest. My pappy was
carriage driver for Master. I didn't do much of the work when I was a
boy, jes' stayed round the house.
"Master John raised lots of cotton and after it was baled he hauled it
to Jefferson on ox wagons. I'd allus go with him, ridin' on top of the
bales. I'll never forgit how scared I was when we'd cross Black Cypress
on Roger's Ferryboat and it'd begin to rock.
"I don't remember much about the War. When it was over Master John calls
all his slaves together and says, 'You'se free now and you can go or
stay.' He told the men who wanted to leave they could have a wagon and
team, but most of them stayed. Pappy took a wagon and team and left but
mammy and us children stayed and lived with Master Ellington 'bout 15
years after the war was over.
"When I left Master John I moved to Jefferson and married Cora Benton
and we had three boys and two girls. While I was in Jefferson Sheriff
Vine goes to Cincinnati after Abe Rothchild, for killin' 'Diamond
Bessie.' Abe shot hisself in the forehead when he heared Sheriff Vine
was after him, but it didn't kill him. There was sho' some stirrin'
about when the sheriff fotch Abe back to Jefferson.
"Mr. Sam Brown was the jailer. Abe wouldn't eat the jail food and hired
me to bring his meals to him from the hotel. His cell was fixed up like
a hotel room, with a fine brussels rug and nice tables and chairs. He
kep' plenty of whiskey and beer to drink. He'd allus give me a drink
when I took his meals.
"I worked 37 years for Mr. Tom Armistead, who helped W.T. Crawford and
his brother defend Rothchild. Mr. Eppenstadt, he was mayor of Jefferson
then and acted as a go-between man in the case.
"Master Tom Armistead never married and I kep' house and cooked for him.
He give me lots of fine clothes. I bet I owned more fine shirts than any
nigger in Texas. He got me a job as porter in the Capitol at Austin
while he was senator. I was workin' there when they moved in the new
Capitol in 1888. They was gonna put on a big party and say all the
porters had to wear cutaway suits. I didn't have one, so the day 'fore
the party I goes over to Mr. Tom's room at the Bristol Hotel and git one
of his. I didn't know then it was a right new one he had made for the
party. When I goes back to the Capitol all dressed up in that cutaway
suit, I meets Mr. Templeton Houston and he recognises the suit and says.
'You sho' look fine in Mr. Tom's new suit,' 'bout that time Mr. Tom
walks up and, you know, he give me that suit and had him another one
made for the party! I wouldn't live where there wasn't no good white
folks.
420218
[Illustration: Steve Conally]
[Illustration: Steve Conally's House]
STEVE CONNALLY, 90, was born a slave of Tom Connally, grandfather
of United States Senator Tom Connally, from Texas. The family then
lived in Georgia, and Steve's master was a member of the Georgia
Legislature.
"I was born in Murray County, Georgia, and was a slave of Massa Tom
Connally, but they called him Massa "Cushi" Connally. He was a member of
de Georgia Legislature. I stayed with Missy Mary Connally till I was
sixty-seven and Massa Cushi died when I was sixty-nine.
"My mother, Mandy, weighed two hundred pounds and she was de Connally
cook. When I was born, she took de fever and couldn't raise me, so Missy
Mary took and kep' me in a li'l cot by her bed. After dat, I'm with her
nearly all de time and follows her. When she go to de garden I catches
her dresstail and when she go to de doctor, 'bout eighty miles away, I
goes with her.
"I mus' tell you why everybody call Massa Connally Cushi. Dere am allus
so many Tom Connallys in de fam'ly, dey have to have de nickname to tell
one from de other.
"Back dere in Georgia, us have lots and lots of fruit. Come time, de
women folks preserves and cans till it ain't no use. My mammy take de
prize any day with her jelly and sech, and her cakes jes' nachelly walk
off and leave de whole county. Missy Mary sho' de master hand hersef at
de fine bakin' and I'd slip round and be handy to lick out de pans.
"Dey didn't have no 'frigerators den, but dey built log houses without a
floor over de good, cold spring, and put flat rocks dere to keep de milk
and cream and butter cold. Or dey dig out de place so de crock be down
in de wet dirt. Dey sho' have to make de latch up high, so de bad
chillen couldn't open dat door!
"De plantation in Georgia was de whopper. I don't know 'zactly how many
acres, but it a big one. Us make everything and tan hides and make
shoes, jes' like all de big places did. De big house and de weavin'
house and de tannin' yard and de sugar mill and slave quarters made a
li'l town. Dere used to be some mighty big doin's dere. De Connally men
and women am allus good lookers and mighty pop'lar, and folkses come
from far and near to visit dem. All de 'portant men come and all de
sassiety belles jes' drift to our place. Dere sho' lots of big balls and
dinners and de house fix mighty fine dem times. De women wore de hoop
skirts and de ribbons and laces. My missy was de bes' lookin' from far
and near, and all de gem'mans want to dance with her. She sho' look like
de queen you see in de picture books and she have mighty high ways with
folks, but she's mighty good to dis here li'l black boy.
"I goes in de buggy with Massa Cushi, up to Tennessee, to git his sons
what been kilt or wounded. Massa Ned, he dead, and Massa Charles, he
shot in de hip, and die after he git brung home. Massa Dick hurt, too,
but he didn't die.
"Right after de Civil War, when I'm 'bout nineteen, I comes to Texas
with de Connallys, all what didn't git kilt in de war. I stays with
Missy Mary till she die in Georgia. Her son, Jones Connally, come to
Brazos County, near Bryan, and after dat removes to Eddy. I works for
him two years and has lived round Eddy ever since. De Connallys give me
a house and lot in Eddy. Some de fool niggers 'spected a lot, but I
wasn't worryin' none. All I wanted was to stay near de Connallys. Mos'
gen'ly all de slaves what I knowed was found places for and holp git a
start at jobs and places to live. All de Connally slaves loved dem. Some
de timber land give to Mrs. Rose Staten and when she go up dere a old
nigger woman name Lucy sees her. She so happy to see one dem Connally
chillen she laugh and cry.
"Massa Jones Connally have de twin gals, name Ola and Ella. Olla born
with de lef' arm off at de elbow and she allus follow me round. When I
go to milk I puts her in de trough. I saved her life lots of times. One
time she's on de conb of de two-story house, when she's 'bout two years
old. I eases up and knocks de window out and coaxes her to come to me.
'Nother time, I's diggin' de well and some clods falls down and I looks
up and dere am dat Missy Ola leanin' over, mos' tumblin' in de well on
her head. I gives de loud yell and her brother-in-law come runnin' and
grabs her legs.
"Senator Tom Connally, what am a son of Jones Connally, often says he'd
like to visit his grandpa's old home in Georgia. I'd like mighty well to
go with him and take him all over de old home place and out to de old
cemetary."
420079
[Illustration: Valmar Cormier]
VALMAR CORMIER was born a slave to Duplissent Dugat, a small
slave-holder of Lafayette, Louisiana. He tells his story in a
mixture of English and French. As far as he knows, he is nearly 90
years old. He now lives with his sister, Mary Moses, in the Pear
Orchard Settlement, in Beaumont, Texas.