Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States from Interviews with Former Slaves, Volume XVI, Texas Narratives, Part 3

Uncle Cinto Lewis, ex-slave, claims to be 111 years old. He lived in a brick cabin with his wife, Aunt Lucy, on the Huntington Plantation, in Brazoria Co., Texas. Miss Kate Huntington says the cabin occupied by the old couple is part of the old slave quarters built by J. Greenville McNeel, who owned the plantation before Marion Huntington. Miss Kate's father bought it. Although Uncle Cinto claims to be 111, he says he was named San Jacinto because he was born during the "San Jacinto War", which would make his age 101.

"Yes, suh, I's Cinto. That's Lucy over there, she my wife and I calls her Red Heifer, 'cause her papa's name was Juan and he was a Mexican. She and me marry right after 'mancipation. We come long way and we goin' to die together.

"They named me San Jacinto 'cause I's born durin' de San Jacinto war, but they calls me Cinto. I's born in Fort Bend County, up near Richmond, and my old marster was Marse Dave Randon, and his wife, Miss Nancy, was my missus. She was sister to Marse John McNeel, what with his brothers owned all de land hereabouts.

"I 'members once I slips away come dark from de plantation, with some others. We is slippin' 'long quiet like and a paddle roller jump out from behin' a bush and say, 'Let's see your pass.' We didn't have none but I has a piece of paper and I gives it to him and he walks to where it am more light, and then we run, right through old burdock bushes with briars stickin' us and everything. Iffen he cotched us we sho' gits a hidin'.

"I fust went to de field when I 'bout 15 year old, but they larned us to work when we was chaps, we would he'p our mammas in de rows. My mamma's name Maria Simmons and my papa, Lewis. They rared me up right.

"Marse Dave wasn't mean like some. Sometimes de slaves run away to de woods and iffen they don't cotch 'em fust they finally gits hongry and comes home, and then they gits a hidin'. Some niggers jus' come from Africa and old Marse has to watch 'em close, 'cause they is de ones what mostly runs away to de woods.

"We had better houses then, good plank houses, and de big house was sho' big and nice. 'Course they didn't larn us read and write, and didn't 'low no church, but us steal off and have it sometimes, and iffen old Marse cotch us he give us a whalin'. We didn't have no funerals like now, they jus' dig a hole and make you a box, and throw you in and cover you up. But de white folks fed us good and give us good clothes. We wore red russet shoes and good homespun clothes, and we done better'n now.

"Come Christmas time old marse sometimes give us two-bits and lots of extra eats. Iffen it come Monday, we has de week off. But we has to watch the eats, 'cause niggers what they marsters don't give 'em no Christmas sneak over and eat it all up. Sometimes we have dances, and I'd play de fiddle for white folks and cullud folks both. I'd play, 'Young Girl, Old Girl', 'High Heel Shoes,' and 'Calico Stockings.'

"When we was freed we was all glad, but I stayed 'round and worked for Marse Dave and he pays me a little. Finally Lucy and me gits married out of de Book and comes down here to Marse McNeel's. They puts us in debt and makes us work so many years to pay for it. They gives us our own ground and sometimes we makes two bales of cotton on it. 'Course, we works for them, too, and they pays us a little and when Christmas comes we can buy our own things. I used to haul sugar and 'lasses for Papa John up to Brazoria and sometimes to Columbia.

"Yes, suh, I been here a long time, long time. All my own stuff is dead now, I guess. I got grandchillen in Galveston, I think, but all my own stuff is dead."

[Hagar Lewis]

Hagar Lewis, tall and erect at 82 years of age, lives at 4313 Rosa St., El Paso, Texas. She was born a slave of the Martin family and was given with her mother and family to Mary Martin, when she married John M. McFarland. They lived near Tyler, Smith Co., Texas. When freed she remained with the McFarlands until she married A. Lewis and moved to San Antonio, Texas. Widowed early, she raised two sons. One, chief electrical engineer with the U.S. government, lives in New York City. He provides for his aged mother.

[HW: Illegible]

"I was born Jan. 12th, 1855. My first owners was the Martins, and when their daughter, Mary, married, I was give to her. My mama lived to 112 years old. She had sixteen children. I was the baby.

"Missus Mary McFarland, my mother's missus and mine, taught us children with her own; learned us how to read and write. She treated us just like we were her children. We had very strict leaders, my mother and Missus Mary. She'd say, 'Mammy Lize (my mother), 'you'll have to come and whop Oscar and Hagar, they's fightin!' Mammy Lize would say, 'No, I won't whop 'em, I'll just punish 'em.' And we'd have to stand with our backs to each other. My missus never did much whoppin'.

"We lived in cabins made of logs and chinked with mud mortar. We had beds that had only one leg; they fit in each corner of the walls. They was strong, stout. We could jump on 'em and have lots of fun. We didn' stay in quarters much. The cabins was near a creek where willows grew and we'd make stick horses out of 'em. We called it our horse lot. On the farm was a spring that threw water high, and we'd go fishing in a big lake on one corner of the farm. Marster owned half a league, maybe more.

"I was 12 years old when freed. I can remember the way my marster come home from the war. The oldest son, Oscar, and I was out in the yard, and I saw marster first, comin' down the road, and I hollered and screamed, 'O, Oscar, Marse John's a-comin! Marse John's a-comin' home!' We stayed on with them 'till they all died off but Oscar.

"We never changed our name 'till after the Civil War. Then Marse John said, 'Mammy Lize, you gotta choose a name.' He carried us into Tyler to a bureau or something. Mammy Lize say, 'I'm going to keep the name McFarland. I ain't got no other name.'

"My father was a slave from another farm. My mother was the cook. She cooked it all in the same place for white folks and us. We ate the same, when the white folks was finished. They's a big light bread oven in the yard of the big house and in front of the quarters, under a big tree. That one baked the pies. The cabins had a big fireplace wider than that piano there. They'd hang meat and sausage and dry them in the fireplace. Cut holes in ham and hang them there. Had big hogsheads filled up with flour, corn and wheat.

"Some pore niggers were half starved. They belonged to other people. Missus Mary would call them in to feed 'em, see 'em outside the fence pickin' up scraps. They'd call out at night, 'Marse John, Marse John.' They's afraid to come in daytime. Marse John'd say, 'What's the matter now?' They'd say, 'I'se hongry.' He'd say, 'Come in and git it.' He'd cure lots of meat, for we'd hear 'em hollerin' at night when they'd beat the pore niggers for beggin' or stealin', or some crime.

"Marse John would saddle up Old Charlie and go see. He had a big shot gun across his lap. We'd hear that ole bull whip just a poppin'. They'd turn 'em loose when Marse John got after 'em. He prosecuted some marsters for beatin' the slaves. He knew they was half feedin' 'em. One time he let us go see where they'd drug two niggers to death with oxen. For stealin' or somethin'. I can't say we were treated bad, 'cause I'd tell a story. I've always been treated good by whites, but many of the niggers was killed. They'd say bad words to the bosses and they'd shoot 'em. We'd ask Miss Mary why did they kill old Uncle so and so, and Miss Mary would say, 'I don't know. It's not right to say when you don't know.' I'm glad to see slavery over.

"When I was turned loose Miss Mary was training me and sister to do handwork, knittin' and such. Mama wouldn't let us dance, didn't want any rough children. Miss Mary'd say, when I'd get sleepy, 'Owl eyes, ain't you sleepy?' I'd say, 'No, ma'am, anything you want us to do?' I cried to sleep in the big house with Miss Mary and the children, 'cause my sister Belle did. Said she's goin' to turn white 'cause she stayed with the white folks, and I wanted to turn white, too.

"Miss Mary'd make our Sunday dresses. My mother put colored thread in woven material and they was pretty. We had plenty of clothes. Miss Mary saw to that. They paid my mother for every child she had that was big enough to work, and Marse John saw that others did the same.

"Some whites had a dark hole in the ground, a 'dungeon,' they called it, to put their slaves in. They'd carry 'em bread and water once a day. I'se afraid of the hole, they'd tell me the devil was in that hole.

Hagar Lewis

"We set traps for 'possum, coons and squirrels. We used to have big sport ridin' goats. One near busted me wide open. Miss Mary's brother put me on it, and they punished him good for it. He didn't get to play for a long time. And we had an old buck sheep. He'd keep Oscar and I up on the oak patch fence all the time.

"We'd watch the doodle bugs build their houses. We'd sing, 'Doodle, Doodle, your house burned down.' Those things would come up out of their holes just a-shakin'.

"One game I remember was, 'Skip frog, Skip frog, Answer your Mother, she's callin' you, you, you.' We'd stand in a circle and one would be skip frog. We'd slap our hands and skip frog would be hoppin' just like frogs do. Oh, I wish I could call them times back again. I'd go back tomorrow. But I'm tryin' to live so I can meet 'em once again."

[Henry Lewis]

Henry Lewis was born in 1835, at Pine Island, in Jefferson Co., Texas. He was owned by Bob Cade. Henry's voice is low and somewhat indistinct and it was evidently a strain on his vocal chords and also on his memory, to tell the story of his life. He lives with one of his daughters, in Beaumont, who supports him, with the aid of his pension.

"Old Bob Cade, he my massa, and Annie Cade, she my missus. Dey had a big plantation over in Louisiana and 'nother in Jefferson County, out at Pine Island. I's born a hunnerd and one year ago, on Christmas Day, out at Pine Island. If I lives to see next Christmas day 'gain, I'll be a hunerd two year old.

"My mammy she come from Mis'sippi and she name' Judy Lewis. Washington Lewis, one de slaves on Massa Bob's Louisiana plantation, he my daddy. I can't 'member nobody else 'cept my greatgramma, Patsy. She's 130 when she die. She look awful, but den she my folks. My own dear mammy was 112 year old when she die. She have ten chillen and de bigges' portion dem born in slavery time. Dey two sister older'n me, Mandy and Louise. I name' after my daddy brudder, Henry Lewis.

"My white folks have a plantation in Louisiana, at Caginly, and stay over dere mos' de time. I 'member when old Massa Bob used to come to Pine Island to stay a month or two, all us li'l chillen gather round him and he used to throw out two bitses and big one cent pieces 'mongst us, jis' to see us scrammel for dem. When Christmas time come round dey give us Christmas gift and a whole week for holiday.

"I never been no nearer east dan Lake Charles and dat been lately, so I ain't never see de old plantation. At Pine Island us have de big woods place with a hunerd workin' hands, without de underlin's (children). All he niggers say Cade de good man. He hire he overseers and say, 'You can correct dem for dey own good and make dem work right, but you ain't better cut dey hide or draw no blood.' He git a-holt some mean overseers but dey don't tarry long. He find out dey beatin' he niggers and den he beat dem and say, 'How dat suit you?'

"Old massa he a big, stocky Irishman with sandy hair and he ain't had no beard or mustache. When he grow old he have de gout and he put de long mattress out on de gallery and lay down on it. He say, 'Come here, my li'l niggers,' and den he make us rub he foots so he kin git to sleep.

"Dey used to have old slavery-day jedge and jury of white folks and dey hear de case and 'cide how many lashes to give de darky. Dey put de lash on dem, but dey never put no jail on dem. I seed some slaves in chains and I heared of one massa what had de place in de fence with de hole cut out for de nigger's neck. Dey hist up de board and de nigger put he head through de hole and den dey beat him with a lash with holes bored in it and every hole raise de blister. Den he bus' dem blisters with de handsaw and dey put salt and pepper in de bucket water and 'noint dem blisters with de mop dip in de water. Dey do dat when dey in 'ticular bad humor, iffen de nigger ain't chop 'nough cotton or corn. Sometime a overseer kilt a nigger, and dey don't do nothin' to him 'cept make him pay for de nigger. But our massa good.

"Old massa 'low us praise Gawd but lots of massas didn't 'low dem to git on de knees. Us have church-house and de white folks go in de mornin' and us go after dinner. Us used to sing:

"'My knee bones achin',

My body's rackin' with pain,

I calls myself de chile of Gawd,

Heaven am my aim.

If you don't 'lieve I's a chile of Gawd,

Jis' meet me on dat other shore,

Heaven is my home.

I calls myself a chile of Gawd,

I's a long time on my way,

But Heaven am my home.'

"Old massa have de house make out hand-sawed planks in slavery time. It put together with home-made nails, dem spike, square nails dey make deyselfs. It have de long gallery on it. De slaves have li'l log cabin house with mud-cat chimney on de side and de furn'ture mostly Georgia hosses for beds and mattress make out tow sacks. Dey no floor in dem house, 'cept what Gawd put in dem.

"When I six or seven year old dey 'cides I's big 'nough to start ridin' hosses. Dey have de big cattle ranch and I ride all over dis territory. I's too li'l to git on de hoss and dey lift me up, and dey have de real saddle for me, too. I couldn't git up, but I sho' could stay up when I git dere, I's jis' like a hoss-fly.

"Beaumont was jis' a briarpatch in dem time. Jis' one li'l store and one blacksmith shop, and Massa John Herring he own dat. Dat de way I first see my wife, ridin' de range. De Cade brand was a lazy RC [TR: letters R and C turned 90 degrees] dat done register 'fore I's born. Us brand from de first of March to de 15th of December.

"Old massa have de big field 'vided in trac's and each slave could have a part and raise what he want, and old massa buy de crop from de slave. He's purty good to he slaves, and us have good clothes, too, wool for winter and cotton for summer. Us have six suit de year, unnerwear and all. Dey a trunk like in de cabin for Sunday clothes and de res' hang on a peg.

"Us have plenty good food to eat, too. Beef and hawgs and bacon and syrup and sugar and flour was plenty. All de possums and rabbits and fish and sich was jis' dat much more. He give us de barrel whiskey every year, too.

"Dey 'low de li'l chillen lots of playtime and no hard task. Us play stick hoss and seven-up marble game with marbles us make and de 'well game.' De gal or boy sot in de chair and lean way back and 'tend like dey in de well. Dey say dey so many feet down and say, 'Who you want pull you out?' And de one you want pull you out, dey sposed to kiss you.

"Dey used to be nigger traders what come through de country with de herd of niggers, jis' like cattlemen with de herd of cattle. Dey fix camp and de pen on de ridge of town and people what want to buy more slaves go dere. Dey have a block and make de slaves git up on dat. Maybe one man say, 'I give you, $200.00,' and when dey's through de slave sold to de highes' bidder. Old massa warn us look out and not let de trader cotch us, 'cause a trader jis' soon steal a nigger and sell him.

"De patterrollers come round befo' de war to see iffen de massas treat dere slaves good. My wife's gramma say dey come round to her massa's place, but befo' dey git dere he take a meat skin and make dem rub it round dey mouth and git dey face all greasy so it look like dey have plenty to eat and he tell dem dey better tell de patterrollers dey gittin' plenty to eat. But dere one big nigger and he say, 'Hell, no, he ain't give us 'nough to eat.' Den dat nigger say, 'Please take me with you, 'cause if you don't massa gwineter kill me when you git gone.'

"Old massa he die befo' de war and den he son, John Cade, take over de place, and he brudders help. Dey name' Overton and Taylor and Bob, Junior. Us all want to git free and talk 'bout it in de quarters 'mongst ourselfs, but we ain't say nothin' where de white folks heared us.

"When war come on I seed sojers every day. Dey have de camp in Liberty and I watches dem. I heared de guns, too, maybe at Sabine Pass, but I didn't see no actual fightin'. Dat a long year to wait, de las' year de war. Dey sont de papers down on March 5th, I done heared, but dey didn't turn us loose den. Dis de last state to turn de slaves free. When dey didn't let dem go in March, de Yankee sojers come in June and make dem let us go. Next mornin' after de sojers come, de overseer reads de papers out and say we's free as he is and we can go. Some stay on de old place a long time and some go off. You know dey jis' slaves and wasn't civilize'. Some ain't never git civilize' jet. Old massa never give us nothin', but he told us we would stay on iffen we want, but I left.

"I goes down close to Anahuac and builds a li'l log cabin at Monroe City, and dat's where dey puttin' in oil wells now. Washington Lewis, dat my daddy, he have 129 acres dere. De white folks say to sign de paper to let dem put de well on it and dey give us $50.00 and us sign dat paper and dey have de land.

"I marries in slavery time, when I's 'bout 22 year old. My first wife name' Rachel an she live on Double Bayou. She belong to de Mayes place. I see her when I ridin' de range for Massa Bob. I tells massa I wants to git marry and he make ma ask Massa Mayes and us have de big weddin'. She dress all in white. I have de nice hat and suit of black clothes and daddy a shoemaker and make me de good pair of shoes to git marry in. Us stand front Massa Mayes and he read out de Bible. Us had a real big supper and some de white folks give us money.

"De first money I makes am workin' for de gov'ment in Galveston. After de war de gov'ment hire folks to clean up de trash what de fightin' make and I am hired. Dey lots of wood and stones and brick and trees and sich dem big guns knock down.

"I goes back to ridin' de prairie and rides till I's 94 year old. I stops de same year Mr. Joe Hebert dies. When I quits I's out workin', tendin' Mr. Langham's chickens and I forgits it Christmas and my birthday till Mr. Langham comes ridin' out with my money. Dat's de last work I done and dat in 1931 and I's 94 year old, like I say. I bet dese nineteen hunerd niggers ain't gwine live dat long.

"I didn't had no chillen by my first wife and she been dead 'bout 70 year now. My last wife name' Charlotte and she been dead 22 year and us have 16 chillen. Dey six gals and ten boys and ten am livin' now. Mos' of dem am too old to work now. I stays with Ada, here, and she got a gif'. She know what kind of herb am good for medicine for diff'rent ailments. She born with a veil over de face and am wise to dem things. Dey's de fever weed and de debil's shoestring, and fleaweed cures neuralgy and toothache. Spanish mulberry root, dat good for kidneys. When anybody git swolled feets give dem wild grapevine. Prickly ash bark good for dat, too. Red oak bark good for women's troubles and pumpkin head for de heart. Camphor and asafoetida in de bag round de neck good for de heart. When de chile git convulsion make dem drink li'l bluin'. Dat good for growed-up folks, too. It good for burns, too."

[Lucy Lewis]

Lucy Lewis, wife of Cinto Lewis, does not know her age, but is very aged in appearance, about four feet tall and weighs around 65 or 70 pounds. She was born on the McNeel plantation at Pleasant Grove, land now occupied by No. 2 Camp of the Clemens Prison Farm. Her master was Johnny McNeel, brother of J. Greenville McNeel. His sister married Dave Randon, Cinto's master. Cinto and Lucy's cabin is furnished with an enormous four-poster bed and some chairs. Pots, pans, kettles and jugs hang on the walls. The fireplace has a skillet and beanpot in the ashes. The old people are almost blind.

"You all white folks jus' set a bit while I eats me a little breakfast. I got me a little flap jack and some clabber here. Dem old flies gobble it up for me, don't I git to it fust. Me and Cinto 'bout starve, old hard time 'bout git us. I sure wishes I could find some of Marse John Dickinson's folks, I sho' go to them.

"Me and Cinto got nine head grandchillen down in Galveston, but dey don't write or nothin'. All our own children are dead. Dey was Lottie and Louisa and Alice. Dey was John, too, but he was so little and scrawny he die when he a month old. We call him after Marse John, which we all love so much.

"My mama's name was Lottie Hamilton and she was born at de Cranby Camp for Johnny McNeel. My papa was a Mexican and went by name of Juan.

"I don't hardly recollec' when we git married. I hardly turn fifteen and dey was fat on dese here old bones den, and I had me a purty white calico dress to git married in. It was low in de neck with ruffles and de sleeves come to my elbow purty like. We sho' had de finest kind of a time when Cinto and me gits married, we-all fishes down on de bayou all day long. Marse John marry us right out of de Bible.

"I were bred and born in No. 2 Camp over thar, but it called McNeel Plantation at Pleasant Grove in them days. It was Greenville McNeel's brother and his sister, Nancy, marry Dave Randon. When my marster and wife separate, de wife took part de slaves and de marster took some others and us and we come down here.

"I had five brothers and one sister and I jus' 'member, Cinto' s step-pappy try cross de ribber on a log in high water and a old alligator swaller him right up.

"My marster and his missy were mighty good to us, mighty good. We used to wear good clothes--real purty clothes--most as good as dat Houston cloth you-all wearin'. And, sho' 'nough, I had some purty red russet shoes. When we-all real good, Marse John used to give us small money to buy with. I spent mos' of mine to buy clothes. We used to go barefoot and only when I go to church and dances I wore my shoes.

"We sho' had some good dances in my young days, when I was spry. We used to cut all kind of steps, de cotillion and de waltz and de shotty (schottische) and all de rest de dances of dat time. My preacher used to whup me did he hear I go to dances, but I was a right smart dancin' gal. I was little and sprite and all dem young bucks want to dance with me.

"Cinto didn't know how to do no step, but he could fiddle. Dere was a old song which come back to me, 'High heels and Calico Stockin's.'

"'Fare you well, Miss Nancy Hawkins,

High heel shoes and calico stockin's.'

"I can't sing now from de time I lost my teeth with de Black John fever. When I git dat fever, my missy told me not to drink a mite of water 'cepting she told me to. I git so hot I jus' can't stand it and done drink a two-pint bucket of water, and my teeth drop right out.

"Missy sho' good to me. Dey 'bout 20 slaves but I stay in de house all de time. Our house have two big rooms and a kitchen and de boys and men have rooms apart like little bitty houses on de outside. When we don't have to green up, I gits up 'bout sun-up to make coffee, but when we has to green up de house for company I gits up earlier.

"Missy Nancy used to whup me if I done told a lie, but I didn't git whupped often. She used to whup me with a cattle whup made out of cowhide.

"Some of de slaves wore charms round dey necks, little bags of asfeddity. Me, I got me three vaccinations--dat all I need.

"We used to git lots to eat, greens and suet, fish from de ribber, cornmeal and plenty of sugar, even in de war time. Soldiers was around here as thick as weeds. We had to give 'em a tithe of corn and we makes clothes for 'em, and bandages and light jackets. We made de heavy leaded jackets, with lead in de skirts of de coat to hold it down. De lead looked like a marble and we cut it in long strips and hammer it down.

"One of dem Yank gunboats come up de river and shell around here. Right here. Dem shells come whistlin' through de trees and lop de limbs right off. Dem were sho' scare times.

"I didn't want to be free, I was too happy with missy. But I had to be free, jus' like de others."

[Amos Lincoln]

Amos Lincoln, 85, was born a slave of Elshay Guidry, whose plantation was in the lower delta country of Louisiana, about fifty miles south of New Orleans. His memories of slave days are somewhat vague. He has lived in Beaumont fifty-two years.

"My tongue's right smart I think. I's ten year old when they blew up that fort. I mean Fort Jackson. Grandpa was cookin'. They wouldn't let him fight. The fort was in New Orleans. They kilt lots of people. They bore holes in the ground and blow it up. A square hole, you know, a machine went in there. A man could crawl in the hole, yes, yes, sho'. The fort was long side the river. They bore holes from the river bank. They had a white paper, a order for 'em not to come to New Orleans. They drag cannon in the hole and shoot up the fort.

"Soon's freedom come my pa and ma was squatters on gov'ment land. It was good land and high land. My pa had 'bout 100 acres. One night somebody come shoot him. Shoot him in the back. Ma took the chillen to Shady Bayou to grandpa.

"My grandpa come from Africy. I never see my other people 'cause dey 'longs to other masters. My grandpa die when he 115 year old.

"Elisha Guidry he my master in slavery. He had lots of slaves. He whip my pa lots of times. He was unwillin' to work. He whip my ma, too. One time he cut her with the whip and cut one her big toes right off. Ma come up on the gallery and wrap it up in a piece of rag.

"Us have a dirt house. The chimney made with mud. It's a good house. It hot in summer. The beds made with moss and shucks and the big old ticks made at the big house. Us didn't have no chairs. Jes' benches. In the room's a big trough. Us sit 'round the trough and eat clabber and bread with big, wood spoon. I eat many a meal that way myself.

"Dem's moral times. A gal's 21 'fore she marry. They didn't go wanderin' 'round all hours. They mammies knowed where they was. Folks nowadays is wild and weak. The gals dress up come Sunday. All week they wear they hair all roll up with cotton they unfold from the cotton boll. Sunday come they comb the hair out fine. No grease on it. They want it natural curly.

"Us have good food most time. Steel and log traps fo' big game. Pit traps in the woods 'bout so long and so deep, and kivered with bresh and leaves. That cotch possum and coon and other things what come 'long in the night. Us lace willow twigs and strings and put a cross piece on top and bottom, and little piece of wood on top edge. The trap 'bout two feet off the ground to cotch the birds. Doves, blackbirds, any kind birds you can eat. Us clean them li'l birds good and rub 'em down in lard. After they set awhile us broil 'em with plenty black pepper and salt. Us shoot plenty ducks with musket, too.

"Greens was good, too. Us eat parsley greens and shuglar weed. That big, two foot plant what have red flower on it. Us git lots of 'em in Wade's Bayou. Us put li'l bit flour in ashes and make ashcake. Us cook pumpkin in ashes, too.

"After slavery I hoe cotton. No money at first, jes' work on halves. The trouble that there no equal halves. The white folks pay jes' like they wants. A man couldn't work that way no time. I had to come over to Texas 'cause a man what want my land say I stoled a barrel from he house. He try arres' my old woman 'cause she say she find the barrel. Now, I never have the case in lawsuit and I 'spect to die that way. But I has to stay 'way from Mauriceville for three year 'cause that man say I thiefed he barrel.

"Things was bad after us come to Texas for a time. That Lizal Scizche, he sho' rough man. Us cropped on the share and he take the crop and the money and lef' fast. Us didn't have a mess of nothin' left.

"I manages to live by croppin'. I been here 52 year now. My first wife name Massanne Florshann, that the French. My wife what I got now name Annie. Massanne she give me six chillen and Annie four."

[Annie Little]

Annie Little, 81, was born a slave of Bill Gooden, in Springfield, Missouri. Her master owned a plantation in Mississippi, and sent Annie's family there while she was a baby. Annie now lives in Mart, Texas.

"I's first a baby in Springfield. Dat in Missouri and dere am where I's birthed in January, 1856. My daddy and mammy was Howard and Annie and dey 'longed to Massa Bill Gooden. He have de plantation in Missipp' and send us dere while I's still de li'l baby. Dat am what dey call de Delta now, and de cotton so high I clumb up in de trees to reach de top of de stalks, and de corn so high a man on he mule only have de top he hat showin'.

"If us mind massa and missus, dey good to us, but if de hands lazy and not work den de overseer whop dem. When dey run 'way he sot de bloodhounds on dem and dey clumb de tree. I's heared dem hounds bayin' de nigger up a tree jes' lots of times. Massa never sold none my family and we stays with him till he wife die and he die, too.

"In de cold days de women spin and weave de cloth on looms. I stands by and pick up de shuttle when dey fall. Us niggers all wore de clothes make on de spinnin' wheel, but de white folks wore dresses from de store. Dey have to pay fifty and seventy-five cents de yard for calico den.

Annie Little

"Den de war come. I 'member how massa come home on de furlough and when word come he on de way, us all git ready for de big cel'bration. Dey kill the yearlin' or hawg and all us niggers cook for de big feast. Sometimes iffen he stay a week, we jes' do nothin' but eat and cook.

"Dem de good old days, but dey didn't last, for de war am over to sot de slaves free and old massa ask if we'll stay or go. My folks jes' stays till I's a growed gal and gits married and has a home of my own. Den my old man tell me how de Yankees stoled him from de fields. Dey some cavalry sojers and dey make him take care of de hosses. He's 'bout twict as old as me, and he say he was in de Bull Run Battle. He's capture in one battle and run 'way and 'scape by de holp of a Southern regiment and fin'ly come back to Mississip'. He like de war songs like 'Marchin' Through Georgia,' but bes' of all he like dis song:

"'I ain't gwine study war no more,

i gwine lay down my burden,

down by de river side,

down by de river side.

"'Gwine lay down my sword and shield

Down by de riverside,

Down by de riverside.

"'I ain't gwine study war no more,

Gwine try on my starry crown,

Down by de river side,

Down by de river side.'

"Well, he done lay he burden down and quit dis world in 1916.

"Do I 'member any hant stories? Well, we'd sit round de fire in de wintertime and tell ghos' stories till us chillen 'fraid to go to bed at night. Iffen I can 'lect, I'll tell you one. Dis story am 'bout a old, haunted house, a big, old house with two front rooms down and two front rooms up and a hall runnin' from back to front. In back am de li'l house where Alex, massa's boy kep' he hoss, stay.

"Dis big house face de river. Old Massa go to war and never come back no more. Old missy jes' wait and wait, till fin'ly dey all say she am weak in de head. Every day she tell de niggers to kill de pig, dat massa be home today. Every day she fix up in de Sunday best and wait for him. It go on like dat for years and years, till old miss am gone to be with old massa, and de niggers all left and dere am jes' de old house left.

"One day long time after freedom Alex come back, and he hair turned white. He go up de river to de old plantation to tell Old Miss dat Old Massa gone to he Heavenly Home, and won't be back to de old place. He come up to de old house and de front gate am offen de hinges and de grass high as he head, and de blinds all hangin' sideways and rattle with de wind. Dey ain't no lightnin' bug and no crickets on de fireplace, jes' de old house and de wind a-blowin' through de window blinds and moanin' through de trees.

"Old Alex so broke up he jes' sot down on de steps and 'fore he knowed it he's asleep. He saw Old Massa and hisself gwine to war and Old Massa am on he white hoss and he new gray uniform what de women make for him, and de band am playin' Dixie. Old Alex seed hisself ridin' he li'l roan pony by Old Massa's side. Den he dream o' after de battle when he look for Old Massa and finds him and he hoss lyin' side by side, done gone to where dere ain't no more war. He buries him, and--den de thunder and lightnin' make Alex wake up and he look in Old Miss' room and dere she am, jes' sittin' in her chair, waitin' for Old Massa. Old Alex go to talk with her and she fade 'way. Alex stay in he li'l old cabin waitin' to tell Old Miss, and every time it come rain and lightnin' she allus sot in her chair and go 'way 'fore he git in her room. So Old Alex fin'ly goes to sleep forever, but he never left he place of watchin' for Old Miss.

"De white folks and niggers what live in dem days wouldn't live in dat big, old house, so it am call de 'hanted house by de river.' It stands all 'lone for years and years, till de new folks from up North come and tore it down." (See pictures of house at end of story.)

"I well 'lect my old man sayin' how de steamboat come whistlin' up de river and all de darkies go to singin', 'Steamboat Comin' Round da Bend.' Dis am in de cotton patch jes' 'yond da hanted house and de steamboat whistle mean time to go to dinner. Dat am de Little Red River up in Arkansas, where my old man, Dolphus Little, am birthed, right near de hanted house.

"Dolphus and me marries in Missipp' but come to Texas and lives at Hillsboro on Massa John Willoughby's farm. We has ten chillen and I'm livin' with my baby boy right now. I'll tell you de song I gits all dem chillen to sleep with:

"Mammy went 'way--she tell me to stay,

And take good care of de baby.

She tell me to stay and sing disaway,

O, go to sleepy, li'l baby,

"O, shut you eye and don't you cry,

Go to sleepy, li'l baby.

'Cause mammy's boun' to come bime-by,

O, go to sleepy, li'l baby.

"We'll stop up de cracks and sew up de seams,

De booger man never shall cotch you.

O, go to sleep and dream sweet dreams,

De booger man never shall cotch you.

"De river run wide, de river run deep,

O, bye-o, sweet li'l baby.

Dat boat rock slow, she'll rock you to sleep,

O, bye-o, sweet li'l baby.

Chorus

"O, go to sleepy, sleepy, li'l baby,

'Cause when you wake, you'll git some cake,

And ride a li'l white hossy.

O, de li'l butterfly, he stole some pie,

Go to sleepy, li'l baby.

And flew so high till he put out his eye,

O, go to sleepy, li'l baby."

[Abe Livingston]

Abe Livingston, 83 years old, was born a slave to Mr. Luke Hadnot, Jasper Co., Texas, the owner of about 70 slaves. He now lives in Beaumont, Texas.

"I done well in slavery, 'cause I belonged to Massa Luke Hadnot and he had some boys and they and me grew up together. When my daddy beat me I'd go up to the big house and stay there with the boys and we'd git something to eat from the kitchen. When de white folks has et, we gits what lef'. Massa Luke done well by his niggers, he done better'n mos' of 'em.

"Us boys, white boys and me, had lots of fun when us growin' up. I 'member the games us play and we'd sing this:

"'Marly Bright, Marly Bright,

Three score and ten;

Kin you git up by candlelight?

Yes, iffen your legs

Are long and limber and light.'

"Sometimes us boys, not the white ones 'cause they couldn', would go in the woods and stay all night. We builds campfires and watches for witches and hants. I seen some but what they was I don' know. By the waterhole, one tall white hant used to come nearly every night. I couldn' say much how it looked, 'cause I was too scart to git close.

Abe Livingston

"I was jus' about big enough to handle the mule when the war bust out. My daddy was a servant in the army and he helped dig the breastwork round Mansfield for the battle.

"News of the freedom come 'bout 9 or 10 o'clock on a Tuesday morning. Mos' us goes home and stays there till nex' Monday. Then Yankees come and told us we's free. About 80 of 'em come and they sho' laughed a lot, like they's glad war is through. Seem like they's more for eatin' than anything else and dey steal the good hosses. They take everything to eat, and 40 big gobblers and they eat the hawgs and beeves, too. How them Yankees could eat! I never seen nothin' like it.

"I come to Jefferson County after freedom and got me a job. It was spikin' on the railroad. Freedom didn' mean much to me, 'cause I didn' know the difference. I done well anyhow."

[John Love]

John Love, 76, was born near Crockett, Texas, a slave of John Smelley. John tells of the days of Reconstruction, and life in the river bottoms. He now lives in Marlin, Texas.

"I's born on de Neches River and spends all my earlies' life right down in de river bottoms, 'cause I done live in de Brazos bottom, too. Mammy and pappy 'longed to John Smelley and was Rose and John.

"It was wild down in de Neches bottom den, plenty bears and panthers and deers and wolves and catamounts, and all kind birds and wild turkeys. Jes' a li'l huntin' most allus fill de pot dem days. De Indians traps de wild animals and trade de hides for supplies. We was right near to de Cherokee and Creek res'vation. I knowed lots of Indians, and some what was Alabama Indians and done come over here. Dey said de white people was wrong when dey thinks Alabama mean 'here we rest.' It don't mean dat a-tall. It mean "people what gathers mulberries.' You see, dem Alabama Indians right crazy 'bout mulberries and has a day for a feast when de mulberries gits ripe. Dat where de tribe git its name and de town named after de tribe.

"Massa Smelley fit in de Mexico War and in de Freedom War, but I don't know nothin' 'bout de battles. De bigges' thing I 'members am when de soldiers come back, 'cause dey finds all dey cattle stoled or dead. De soldiers, both kinds, de 'Federates and Yankees, done took what dey want. De plantations all growed up in weeds and all de young slaves gone, and de ones what stayed was de oldes' and faithfulles'.

"Times was hard and no money, and if dere wasn't plenty wild animals everybody done starve. But after 'while, new folks come in, and has some money and things picks up a li'l more'n more.

"We has de sugar cane and makes sorghum, and has our own mill. Us all, mammy and pappy and us chillun, done stay with Massa Smelley long time after freedom, 'cause we ain't got nowhere to go or nothin'. I'd holp in de 'lasses mill, and when we grinds dat cane to cook into syrup, dis am de song:

"'Ain't no more cane on de Neches,

Ain't no more cane on de land;

Oh---- ooooo---- ooooo---- oO!

Done grind it all in 'lasses,

Oh---- ooooo---- ooooo---- oO!

"After I's 'bout growed, I moves to de Brazos bottom and works for a stockman, den I works for de man what driv de first post on de Houston & Texas Central right-of-way. I holped build dat railroad from Houston to Waco, and build de fences and lay de cross-tires. Den I broke wild hosses for Mr. Curry. He give me my groceries and twenty-five cents a day. I was sho' proud of de job.

"After dis, I carries de mail from Marlin to Eddy, on hossback. De roads went through de Brazos bottom. Dey was jes' cowtrails, 'stead of roads. Dere was a road through dat bottom so bad de white man wouldn't carry dat mail, so dey gives it to me and I ain't got no better sense dan to try it. Dat six miles through de bottom was all mudholes and when de river git out de banks dat was bad. But I helt out for eight years, till de mail sent by train.

"I knows why dat boll-weevil done come. Dey say he come from Mexico, but I think he allus been here. Away back yonder a spider live in de country, 'specially in de bottoms. He live on de cotton leaves and stalks, but he don't hurt it. Dese spiders kep' de insects eat up. Dey don't plow deep den, and plants cotton in February, so it made 'fore de insects git bad.

"Den dey gits to plowin' deep, and it am colder 'cause de trees all cut, and dey plows up all de spiders and de cold kill dem. Dey plants later, and dere ain't no spiders left to eat up de boll-weevil.

"I knows an old boll-weevil song, what us sing in de fields:

"De bollweevil is a li'l bug, from Mexico, dey say,

He come try dis Texas soil, and think he better stay,

A-lookin' for a home--jes' lookin' for a home.

"De farmer took de bollweevil and put him in de sand.

Boll weevil said to farmer, 'I'll stand it like a man,

For it's jes' my home--it's jes' my home.'

"First time I seed de weevil, he on de eastern train,

Nex' time I seed dat weevil, he on de Memphis train,

A-lookin' for a home--jes' lookin' for a home.

"If anybody axes you who writ dis li'l song,

It's jes' a dark-skin nigger, with old blue duckin's on."

[Louis Love]

Louis Love, 91, was born in Franklin, Louisiana, a slave of Donaltron Cafrey, whom Louis describes as a "leadin' lawyer and once United States Senator." At the start of the Civil War, Louis was sent to Texas with about 300 other slaves to escape the "Yankee invaders." Louis now lives in Orange, Texas, and says he spends most of his time sitting on the gallery. One hand shakes constantly and his reedy voice is tremulous.

"Well, I guess I's 'bout 91 year old. I 'member when freedom come. I goes up to reg'stration de year I gits free. I walks up to old Doc Young and say, 'I come reg'ster for de vote.' He say, 'You too young to vote. You ask your missus.' Missus git de big book 'bout six inch thick where she got all de births and deaths on dat place since she been missus and she give me a letter sayin' I nineteen year old. I kep' dat letter till not so long ago and burns it by mistake, 'cause I can't read.

"Dave Love he was my daddy and Tildy Love was my mama. My grandmama raise me, though. My massa's name Donaltron Cafrey and he statue stand in de court house square now. He was a leadin' lawyer and a United States senator. When Senator Gibson die massa he serve out he term. Young massa name Donaltron Cafrey, junior, and he keep de big bank in New Orleans now.

"I never was sold to nobody. I heared folks say my folks come from Kentucky, but my mama born on Massa Cafrey's place. He have de big house, fine old house with galleries all 'round and big lawns. It's far back from de road, pushin' clost to a mile, I guess. He have seven sugar plantation and after freedom come dey rents it out at $3.00 a acre to raise 'taters in.

"Us live in shacks 'bout like dese 'round here. Dese times am better'n slavery times, 'cause den you couldn't go nowheres 'thout de pass or de patterrollers git you. Dat mean 25 lashes and more when you gits home.

"My missus took us chillen to de Baptis' church and de white preacher he preach. De cullud folks could have church demselves iffen dey have de manager of 'ligion to kinder preach. Course he couldn't read, he jus' talk what he done heared de white preachers say.

"I git ship one time. Dat time de overseer give me de breakin'. Dey have stocks dey put a man in. Dey put de man leg through de holes and shut it down. De man jus' lay dere and bawl.

"De clothes us wore was shirts and us didn't git no britches till us big. I's wearin' britches a good many year 'fore freedom, though. Dey give us two suit de year and us have beefhide shoes what us call moc'sins.

"Dey wasn't no better people dan my white folks. Dey didn't 'low us to be brutalize', but dey didn't 'low us to be sassy, neither. I holp my grandma milk de cows.

"When de Yankees come to New Orleans dey go on to Port Hudson and have de big fight dere. Massa order everybody be ready to travel nex' mornin'. Dey 'bout 300 peoples in dat travel wagon and dey camps dat night at Camp Fusilier, where de 'federates have de camp. Dey make only five mile dat day. Dey stops one night at Pin Hook, in Vermilionville. My brudder die dere. Dey kep' on dat way till dey come to Trinity River. I stay dere five year.

"De overseer on de new plantation name Smoot. I wait on de table and grandma she cook for Smoot. Dey raise sugar cane and corn and peas and sich like. Dey have lots of pork meat. Dey have stock and one time a calf git eat by a panther. Massa hunt dat panther and shoot him in a tree.

"One day Smoot tell me to bring all de hands to de house when dey blows de horn at noon. When dey gits dere old massa say dey's free as he was. If dey stays he say he give 'em half de crop, but didn't one stay. Six or seven what wants go back to de old home massa done give teams to and it take dem 'bout six week comin' home. I's glad to git dere. I couldn't see free meant no better. Missus plantation seem mighty pleasant.

"I been marry twict. Fust time a gal name Celeste, but she 'fuse to come to Texas with me and dat 'solve de marriage. I marry dis wife, Sarah, 'bout a few year ago. Us been marry 'bout 22 year."

[John McCoy]

John McCoy, ex-slave, who lives in a small shack in the rear of 2310 State St., Houston, Texas, claims to have been born Jan. 1, 1838. Although his memory is hazy, John is certain that "folks had a heap more sense in slave times den dey has now."

"Well, suh, my white folks done larn me to start de cotton row right and point for de stake at de far end of de field, and dat way a nigger don't git off de line and go dis-a-way and dat-a-way. He start right and end right, yes, suh! Dat de way to live--you start right and go de straight way to de end and you comes out all right.

"I's been here a mighty long time, I sho has, and done forgit a heap, 'cause my head ain't so good no more, but when I first knowed myself I 'longs to old Marse John McCoy. Old Miss Mary was he wife and dey de only white folks what I ever 'longs to. Dat how come I's a McCoy, 'cause all de niggers what old marse have goes by his name.

"My pappy's name was Hector and mammy's name Ann, and dey dies when I's jes' a young buck and dat been a long time 'fore freedom. Ain't got no brudders and sisters what I knows 'bout. All a slave have to go by am what de white folks tells him 'bout his kinfolks.

"Old Marse John have a big place round Houston and raises cotton and corn and hawgs and cows. Dere was lots of wilderness den, full of varmints and wildcats and bears. Old Marse done larn me 'bedience and not to lie or steal, and he larn me with de whip. Dat all de larnin' we gits. Does he cotch you with de book or paper, he whip you hand down. He don't whip de old folks none, jes' de young bucks, 'cause dey wild and mean and dat de onlies' way dey larns right from wrong.

"I tells you jes' like I tells everyone--folks had heap more sense in slave times dan dey has now. Long as a nigger do right, old marse pertect him. Old Marse feed he niggers good, too, and we has plenty clothes. Course, dey home-made on de spinnin' wheel, but dey good. De shoes jes' like pen'tentiary shoes, only not fix up so good. Old Marse kill a cow for meat and take de hide to de tanner and Uncle Jim make dat hide into shoes. Dey hard and heavy and hurt de feets, but dey wear like you has iron shoes.

"Old Marse don't work de niggers Sunday like some white folks do. Dat de day we has church meetin' under trees. De spirit jes' come down out de sky and you forgits all you troubles.

"Slave times was de best, 'cause cullud folks am ig'rant and ain't got no sense and in slave times white folks show dem de right way. Now dey is free, dey gits uppity and sassy. Some dese young bucks ought to git dere heads whipped down. Dat larn dem manners.

"Freedom wasn't no diff'rence I knows of. I works for Marse John jes' de same for a long time. He say one mornin, 'John, you can go out in de field iffen you wants to, or you can git out iffen you wants to, 'cause de gov'ment say you is free. If you wants to work I'll feed you and give you clothes but can't pay you no money. I ain't got none.' Humph, I didn't know nothin' what money was, nohow, but I knows I'll git plenty victuals to eat so I stays till old marse die and old miss git shet of de place. Den I gits me a job farmin' and when I gits too old for dat I does dis and dat for white folks, like fixin' yards.

"I's black and jes' a poor, old nigger, but I rev'rence my white folks 'cause dey rared me up in de right way. If cullud folk pay 'tention and listen to what de white folks tell dem, de world be a heap better off. Us old niggers knows dat's de truth, too, 'cause we larns respec' and manners from our white folks and on de great day of jedgment my white folks is gwineter meet me and shake hands with me and be glad to see me. Yes, suh, dat's de truth!"

[Hap McQueen]

Hap McQueen, 80, was born in Tennessee, a slave of the McQueen family, who later brought Hap to Texas. He now lives in Beaumont.

"I's born in Tennessee but dey brings me 'way from dere when I's a little chile, what my mammy say is eight year gwine on nine. My daddy name' Bill McQueen and my mammy name Neelie.

"We come from Tennessee in de fall in de wagons and it takes us a long time, 'cause we camps on de way. But we gits dere and starts to work on de new place.

"Massa have three cook women and two was my grandma and my mammy. De dinin' room was right by de kitchen and we has plenty to eat. He was a good massa and I wouldn't knowed it been slavery iffen dey hadn't told me so, I was treat so good.

"Dey have a big house to take care de chillen when dey mammies workin' in de fields, and old missus sho good to dose chillen. She comes in herse'f every day to see dem and sometime play with dem.

"Massa son John was de overseer but de old massa wouldn't 'low him to whip de slaves. Iffen it got to be done, old massa do it, but he never draw blood like on de plantations 'round us. Some of dem on dose plantations say dey ain't want Massa McQueen's niggers 'round de place, 'cause dey's free, dey fed too good and all, and dey afraid it make dere slaves unsatisfy.

"Dey allus stop workin' Saturday afternoons and Sunday and gits pass to go fishin' or huntin'. Sometime dey has preachin' under de arbor. Den at dinner time dey blow de horn and de cullud folks eats at de same time as de white folks, right where massa kin watch 'em, and if dey not enough to eat, he say, 'How come? What de matter with de cooks?'

"He live in a two-story house builded out of lumber and all 'round in de yard was de quarters. Dey make out of logs and most has a little patch de massa 'lows 'em, and what dey raise dey own. My daddy raise cotton each year and he raise sweet 'taters and bank 'em.

"Dey has Georgia hosses in de quarters. Dey was dem bed places what de niggers slep' on. Dey bores holes in de wall of de house and makes de frame of de bed and puts cotton mattress and quilt on dem. De white folks have house make bedsteads, too. De first bought bed I see was a plumb 'stonishment to me. It have big posties to hang 'skeeter bar over. De chairs was homemake too, with de white oak splits for de bottoms.

"Massa he didn't go to de war, but he sent he oldest boy, call John. He takes my daddy 'long to feed de stock and like dat. I goes to de camp once to see my daddy and stays a good while. Dey fixin' to fight de Yankee and dey rest and eat and talk. Dey shoot at de rifle ring and dey make dem practise all dey got to know to be good soldier.

"When freedom come 'long, massa line us all up by de gallery and say, 'You is you own women and men. You is free. Iffen you wants to stay, I gives you land and a team and groceries.' My daddy stays.

Hap McQueen

"I marry long time after freedom and raise' two batch of chillen. My first wife have eight and my second wife have nine.

"I 'members de story 'bout de man what owned de monkey. Dat monkey, he watch and try do everything a man do. One time a nigger make up he mind scare 'nother nigger and when night time come, he put a white sheet over him and sot out for de place dat nigger pass. De monkey he seed dat nigger with de sheet and he grab de nice, white tablecloth and throw it over him and he follow de nigger. Dat nigger, he hear something behin' him and look 'round and see somethin' white followin' him and he think it a real ghostie. Den he took out and run fitten to kill hissel'f. De monkey he took out after dat nigger and when he fall 'zausted in he doorway he find out dat a monkey chasin' him, and he want to kill dat monkey, but he can't do dat, 'cause de monkey de massa's pet.

"So one day dat nigger shavin' and de monkey watchin' him. He know right den de monkey try de same thing, so when he gits through shavin' he turn de razor quick in he hand, so de monkey ain't seein' him and draw de back of de razor quick 'cross he throat. Sho' 'nough, when he gone, de monkey git de bresh and rub de lather all over he face and de nigger he watchin' through de crack. When dat monkey through shavin' he drew de razor quick 'cross he throat, but he ain't know for to turn it, and he cut he own throat and kill hissel'f. Dat what de nigger want him to do and he feel satisfy dat de monkey done dead and he have he revengence."

[Bill McRay]

Bill McRay was born in Milam, fifteen miles north of San Augustine, Texas, in 1851. He is a brother of C.B. McRay. Col. McRay was his owner (the name may have been spelled McCray, Bill says). Bill now lives in Jasper, Texas. He is said to be an expert cook, having cooked for hotels, boats and military camps 40 years.

"I was born in Milam in 1851 and dat makes me 86 year ole. My mother and father was slaves and dey brung me to Jasper in 1854. Colonel McRay, he was our marster and dis' our boss. He have 40 head of niggers, but he never hit one of 'em a lick in his life. He own a big farm and have a foreman named Bill Cummins. I stay with de Colonel till after I's free.

"Us have good marster, but some of de neighbors treat dere slaves rough. Ole Dr. Neyland of Jasper, he have 75 or 80 slaves and he was rich and hard on de slaves. One day two run away, Tom and Ike, and Dr. Neyland takes de bloodhoun's and ketch dose two niggers and brung 'em in. One of de niggers takes a club and knock one of de houn's in de head and kilt him. Dey cook dat dog and make dem niggers eat part of him. Den dey give both of 'em a beatin'.

"De ole log jail in Jasper, it useter stan' whar de Fish Store is now. Dey have a place t'other side de jail whar dey whip niggers. De whippin' pos' was a big log. Dey make de niggers lie down on it and strap 'em to it. I was a lil' boy den and me and two white boys, Coley McRay and Henry Munn, we useter slip 'round and watch 'em. Coley and Henry both grow up and go to war but neither one come back.

Bill McRay

"Sam Swan, he was sheriff, and he ketch two run-away niggers one day. Dey was brudders and dey was name Rufe and John Grant. Well, he takes 'em and puts dem in jail and some of de men gits 'em out and takes 'em down to de whippin' pos' and den strap 'em down and give 'em one terrible lashin' and den throw salt in dere wounds and you could hear dem niggers holler for a mile. Den dey took 'em back to de farm to wo'k.

"Dey hanged good many niggers 'round Jasper. In slavery times dey hangs a nigger name Jim Henderson, at Mayhew Pond. Us boys wen' dere and mark de tree. Two cullud men, Tom Jefferson and Sam Powell, dey kill anudder nigger and dey hang dem to de ole white oak tree what is south of Jasper Court House.

"After I's free I cooks for Cap'n Kelly in his mil'tary camps for 21 year. Den I cook for boats what run up and down de Neches and Angelina rivers. I wants to say, too, dat I wo'ks for every sheriff in Jasper County 'ceptin' de las' one. Guess I's too young to wo'k for him!"

[C.B. McRay]

C.B. McRay was born in Jasper, Texas, in 1861, a slave to John H. McRay, a slave trader. C.B. is rather unapproachable, and has a secretive manner, as though he believes the human race will bear a little watching. He told of only one wife, but his present wife explained, confidentially, that he has had six. He lives in Jasper.

"My name is C.B. McRay, better knowed as 'Co'nstalk', 'cause I's long and thin. Also knowed as 'Racer', 'cause I useter be fleet on the feet. When I's ten year ole I often caught a rabbit what jump 'fore me, jus' by runnin' him down. Don' see why my boys can't do the same.

"I's bo'n in Jasper, on Main street, right where Lanier's Store stan's, on the 12th of April, in 1861. My father's name was Calvin Bell McRay, de same as mine, and mother's name was Harriet McRay. Father was bo'n in Virginny and mother in Sabine County, in Texas. My brudders' names was Bill McRay and Robert and Duckin Dacus. Father and mother was slaves right here in Jasper, and so was my gran'parents, who was bo'n in Africy.

"John McRay was us marster. He was call a 'nigger trader', and was sich a easy marster dat other people call he slaves, 'McRay's free niggers'. He make trips to New Orleans to buy slaves and brung 'em back and sol' 'em to de farmers. Missus was de bestes' white woman to cullud folks dat ever live.

"I's too lil' to wo'k much but I 'member lotsa things. Us have a big dinin'-room with a big, long table for de cullud folks and us git jus' the same kin' of food dat the white folks have on dere table. Iffen a nigger sass marster and he couldn' control him, he was de fus' one to be sol' and git rid of. He sol' my uncle dat way. But marster was good to us when we done right.

"The nigger women spinned and weaved cloth. I 'spec' dat's the onlies' place in Jasper whar you could go any time of day and see a parlor full of nigger women, sittin' up dere fat as dey could be and with lil' to do. Marster have no plantation for de men to wo'k but he rented lan' for them to cult'vate.

"Marster's niggers all got Sunday clothes and shoes. Every one of dem have to dress and come to the parlor so he could look dem over 'fore dey goes to church.

"Us have a foreman, name Charlie. It was his duty to keep de place stock' with wood. He take slaves and wo'k de wood patches when it needed, but onct marster come home from New Orleans and foun' dem all sufferin' for want of fire. He call ole Charlie and ask him why he not git up plenty wood. 'Well,' old Charlie say, 'wood was short and 'fore I could git more dis col' spell come and it too awful col' to git wood.' Marster say, 'You keep plenty wood or I gwinter sell you to a mean marster.' Charlie git better for a while, then he let wood git low again. So he was sol' to Ballard Adams, who had the name of bein' hard on his slaves. Charlie couldn' do enough wo'k to suit Marster Adams, so he put him in what's knowed as the 'Louisiana shirt.' Dat was a barrel with a hole cut in the bottom jus' big enough for Charlie to slip he head through. Dey pull dis on to him every mornin' and then he couldn' sit down or use he arms, coul' jus' walk 'roun' all day, de brunt of other slaves' jokes. At night dey took it off and chain him to he bed. After he have wo'n dis Louisiana shirt a month de marster task he again. He fail and run off to the woods. So Marster Adams, he come to Marster McRay and want to sell Charlie back again, but he couldn', 'cause freedom jus' come and they couldn' sell slaves no more, but Marster McRay say Charlie coul' come back and stay on he place if he wanted to.

C.B. McRay

"Dey didn' try to teach us readin' and writin', but Miss Mary read de Bible to us every Sunday. Iffen us git sick dey git ol Dr. Haynes or Dr. Perkins.

"When us chillun, we plays 'Town Ball' and marbles. Mother's fav'rite lullaby was Bye-o Baby Buntin'.

"I never seed any sojers till after de War close, den I seed dem camp on Court House Square right here in Jasper. When freedom was 'clared, Miss Mary call us niggers into the parlor and den Marster McRay come and tol' us we's free. He 'vise 'em to wo'k 'round Jasper, whar they knows people, and says iffen any wan's to stay with him to please rise up. Every person riz up. So dey all stay with him for a time. After 'while he 'gin to rent and cult'vate differen' plantation, and dere treatment not so good, so dey 'gin to be dissatisy and pull loose."

[Julia Malone]

Julia Malone, 79, was born a slave of Judge Ellison, who owned a thousand acre plantation near Lockhart, Texas. Julia's mother was killed by another slave. Julia stayed with the Ellison family several years after she was freed. She lives at 305 Percy St., Fort Worth, Texas.

"Jedge Ellison owned 'bout a tousand acres land near Lockhart, a few miles up de Clear Fork river. Right dere I is borned, and it were a big place and so many goin' and comin' it look like de beehive. De buildin's and sheds look like de li'l town.

"I 'member bein' left in de nursery whilst my mammy work in de fields. One night she go to de river for to wash clothes. She has to wash after dark and so she am washin' and a nigger slave sneak up on her and hit her on de neck, and it am de death of her. So de woman what mammy allus live with takes care of me den and when freedom came she moves to town, but massa won't let her took me. I stays on with him and runs errands, while I is not fannin' de new baby. Dey has six while I'm dere. I fans dem till I drops asleep, and dat call for de whippin'.

"My foster mammy comes out and asks massa to let her have me, but he won't do dat. But she puts one over on him fin'ly and gits me anyway. He am gone and missus am gone and I has to stay home alone with de last baby, and a man and woman what was slaves on de place 'fore surrender, comes by in a wagon and tells me to jump in. Dey takes me to my foster mammy and she moves and won't 'low me outside, so massa can't ever find me.

"She 'splains lots of things to me. I done see de women stick dere heads in de washpot and talk out loud, while us in slavery. She tells me day prayin' for de Lawd to take dem out from bondage. Dey think it right to pray out loud so de Lawd can hear but dey mustn't let de massa hear dem.

"I asks her 'bout my father and she says him on de place but die 'fore I's borned. He was make de husband to lots of women on de place, 'cause he de big man.

"She am good to me and care for me till I meets de boy I likes. Us lives together for fifteen years and den him dies. My chillen is all dead. He name am William Emerson and I waits nine years 'fore I marries 'gain. Den I marries Albert Malone and I's lucky 'gain. He's de good man. One day he am fixin' de sills under de house and de whole house moves over and falls on him. I feels so grievous over dat I never marries 'gain. Dat thirty-four year ago, and I lives alone all de time. It ain't 'cause I doesn't have de chance, 'cause lots of bucks wants me, 'cause I's de hard worker.

"I washes for de livin' and washes old massa's daughter's clothes. Massa am de powerful man durin' slavery and have de money and fine clothes and drives de fine teams and acts like de cock of de walk. All dat changes after freedom. I seed him layin' in de sun like de dog. I offers to wash he clothes and he jus' grunt. He done turned stone deaf, and de white folks say it 'cause he done treat he slaves so bad.

"I done live here in Fort Worth 'bout fifteen years with my daughter, Beulah Watkins. I's mighty happy here, and has de $10.00 pension and thanks de Lawd fer dat."

[Adeline Marshall]

Adeline Marshall, 3514 Bastrop St., Houston, Texas, was born a slave somewhere in South Carolina. She was bought by Capt. Brevard and brought to Texas while still a baby, so she remembers nothing about her family and has no record of her age. Adeline is evidently very old.

"Yes, suh, Adeline Marshall am my name, all right, but folks 'round here jes' calls me 'Grandma.'

"Lawd have mercy, I's been in dis here land too long, too long, and jes' ain't no 'count no more for nothin'. I got mis'ries in my bones and jes' look at what I's got on my feet! Dem's jes' rags, dat's all, rags. Can't wear nothin' else on 'em, dey hurts so. Dat's what de red russet shoes what we wears in slave times done--jes' pizen de feets.

"Lawd, Lawd, dat sho' bad times--black folks jes' raise up like cattle in de stable, only Cap'n Brevard, he what own me, treats he hosses and cattle better'n he do he niggers.

"Don't know nothin' 'bout myself, 'cept on Cap'n Brevard's place down on Oyster Creek. He has de plantation dere, what de only place I knows till I's freedomed. He says I's a South Carolina nigger what he bought back dere and brung to Texas when I jes' a baby. I reckon it de truth, 'cause I ain't never knowed no mama or papa, neither one.

"Cap'n he a bad man, and he drivers hard, too, all de time whippin' and stroppin' de niggers to make dem work harder. Didn't make no difference to Cap'n how little you is, you goes out to de field mos' soon's you can walk. De drivers don't use de bullwhip on de little niggers, but dey plays de switch on us what sting de hide plenty. Sometimes dey puts a nigger in de stocks and leaves dem two or three days, don't give dem nothin' to eat or a drink of water, jes' leaves dem till dey mos' dead. Does dey die, jes' put dem in a box and dig a hole out back of de hoss lot and dump dem in and cover up. Ain't no preachin' service or nothin', but de poor nigger out he mis'ry, dat's all.

"Old Cap'n jes' hard on he niggers and I 'member one time dey strops old Beans what's so old he can't work good no more, and in de mornin' dey finds him hangin' from a tree back of de quarters. He done hang himself to 'scape he mis'ry!

"We works every day 'cept Sunday and has to do our washin' den. Does anybody git sick week days, he has to work Sunday to make it up. When we comes in at night we has to go right to bed. Dey don't 'low no light in de quarters and you better be in bed if you don't want a whippin'.

"We gits a plain cotton slip with a string 'round de neck, de stuff dey makes pickin' sacks of. Summer or winter, dat all we gits to wear.

"Old Cap'n have a big house but I jes' see it from de quarters, 'cause we wasn't 'lowed to go up in de yard. I hear say he don't have no wife, but a black woman what stays at de house. Dat de reason so many 'No Nation' niggers 'round. Some calls dem 'Bright' niggers, but I calls dem 'No Nation' 'cause dat what dey is, ain't all black or all white, but mix. Dat come from slave times.

"I knows I's good size when Old Cap'n calls us in and say we's free, but nobody tell me how old I is and I never found out. I knows some of us stays and works for somethin' to eat, 'cause we didn't know no one and didn't hab nowheres to go.

"Den one day, Cap'n come out in de field with 'nother man and pick me and four more what's workin' and say we's good workers. Dat was Mr. Jack Adams, what have a place clost to Stafford's Run. He say if we wants to work on his place he feed us and give quarters and pay us for workin', and dat how come I leaves old Cap'n, and I ain't never see him or dat place where I's raise sence, but I reckon he so mean de debbil done got him in torment long time ago.

"I works in de field for Mr. Jack and dat where Wes Marshall, what I marries, works, too. After we gits married we gits a piece of ground and stays on de same place till Mr. Jack die and we come to Houston. Dat 'fore de 1900 storm.

"I tells folks when dat storm comin'. I ain't 'lieve in no witch doin's, but some way I knows when dat storm comin'. Dey laughs at dis old nigger, but it come and dey loses hosses and cattle and chickens and houses.

"I tells de truth jes' like it am, and I's had a hard time in de land. Why, in dis sinful town, dey don't do like de Good Book say. No, suh, dey don't. It say, 'Love thy neighbor,' and folks don't love nobody but theyselves!

"Jes' look at me! I's old with mis'ry and 'lone in de world. My husband and chillen done die long ago and leave me here, and I jes' go from house to house, tryin' to find a place to stay. Dat why I prays Gawd to take me to his bosom, 'cause He de onlies' one I got to call on."

[Isaac Martin]

Quite black, with close-cut hair and stubby gray whiskers, Isaac Martin is contentedly spending the evening of his life. But two or three darkened teeth show between his thick lips as he talks. He was enjoying the friendly shade of the old tree in his backyard from his comfortable seat in an old rocker. His feet were bare and his once striped trousers were rolled up above his knees to keep him cool in the hot midsummer weather. Beside the chair was a pair of brogan shoes with gaping splits across the toes to avoid cramping his feet. He told the story of by-gone days with evident enjoyment.

"Dis ol' man jes' layin' 'roun'. Ain't nuttin' to him no mo'. I done wo' out. I jes' waitin' for de Good Marster to call po' ol' Isaac home to Glory.

"When dey read de proclamation to my mammy and daddy dey mek 'em give eb'rybody' age in de fam'ly. I was twelve year' ol' den.

"I was bo'n up here in Montgomery county 'bout t'ree mile from Willis upon de I&GN Railroad. I holp to buil' dat I&GN Railroad.

"Ol' Major Wood he my daddy' marster, and 'course he mine too. He was well fixed. He had 'bout seb'nty or eighty wukkin' slaves and I dunno how many li'l niggers. I didn' know nuttin' 'bout ol' Missus, Mrs. Wood. I jis' 'member she a big fat woman. Dey didn' 'low no li'l nigger chillun up in de yard 'roun' de big house 'cep'n' to clean up de yard, and dem what done dat, dey hatter be jis' like dat yard, clean as peckerwoods.

"Ol' marster he warn't mean. He nebber whip' 'em jis' so iffen anybody say de slave orter be whip. Dey hafter see him and tell him what dey done befo' he give de order to de overseer to whip. Iffen he don' t'ink dey orter be whip, he say don' whip 'em and dey don' git whip.

"I had to mind de cows and de sheep. I had a mule to ride 'roun' on. It was dis way, I hafter mind de cows. Ol' marster he plant dif'rent fiel's in co'n, fifty or sixty or a hundred acres. When dey harvestin' de co'n, when dey git one fiel' done dey tu'n de cows in so dey kin eat on de stalks and nubbins what lef' in dat fiel'. I got to ride 'roun' and see de cows don' bus' over from one fiel' what dey done harves' into de other fiel' where dey wukkin', or what ain't been harves' yet. I jis' like dat, ridin' dat mule 'roun' de fiel' and keepin' de cows in.

"Den dere was five or six of us boys to keep de dogs out de sheep. You know iffen de dogs git in de sheep dey ap' to kill 'em.

"Us go huntin' wid de dogs lots of time, and lots of time us ketch rabbits. Dey was six dogs, and de rabbits we kotch was so much vittles for us. I 'member one night us went out huntin' and ketch fo' or five rabbits. Us tek 'em home and clean and dress 'em, and put 'em in de pot to have big rabbit supper. I was puttin' some red pepper in de pot to season 'em, and den I rub my eyes wid my han' and git dat pepper in my eyes and it sho' burn. You know how red pepper burn when it git in your eyes, I nebber will forgit 'bout dat red pepper. De ol' folks uster show us how to fix de t'ings we ketch huntin', and cook 'em.

"Ol' marster sho' t'ought mo' of his li'l nigger chillen. He uster ride in de quarters 'cause he like to see 'em come runnin'. De cook, she was a ol' woman name' Forney, and she had to see atter feedin' de chillen. She had a way of callin' 'em up. She holler, 'Tee, tee, t-e-e;' and all us li'l niggers jis' come runnin'. Ol' marster he ride up and say, 'Forney, call up dem li'l pickaninnies,' and ol' Forney she lif' up her voice and holler, 'Tee, t-e-e, t-e-e,' and ol' marster jis' set up on de hoss and laugh and laugh a lot to see us come runnin' up. He like to count how many li'l niggers he did have. Dat was fun for us too. I 'member dat jes' like yestiddy.

"Nuttin' went hard wid me. Fur's I know 'bout slav'ry dem was good times.

"Dey had 'bout t'ree or fo' hundred of sheep. My father hafter kill a mutton eb'ry Friday for de house. Dey bring up de sheep and somebody hol' de head 'cross a block and my father cut de head off wid a hatchet. Sheeps is de pitifullest t'ings to kill. Day jis' give up. And dey cries, too. But a goat, he don' give up, naw suh, he talk' back to you to de las'.