Part 4

"I ain't had no husband for a time. I can't cast de years, he been dead so long. Us have fifteen chillen, and seven livin' now.

"Sperrits? I used to see dem. I scart of dem. Sometime dey looks nat'ral and sometime like de shadow. Iffen dey look like de shadow, jus' keep on lookin' at dem till dey looks nat'ral. Iffen you walks 'long, dey come right up side you. Iffen you looks over you left shoulder, you see dem. Dey makes de air feel warm and you hair rise up, and sometime dey gives you de cold chills. You can feel it when dey with you. I set here and seed dem standin' in dat gate. Dey goes round like dey done when dey a-livin'. Some say dey can't cross water.

"I heared talk of de bad mouth. A old woman put bad mouth on you and shake her hand at you, and befo' de day done you gwine be in de acciden'.

"I seed de Klu Klux. Po' Cajuns and redbones, I calls dem. Dey ought to be sleepin'. One time I seed a man hangin' in de wood when I'n pickin' blackberries. His tongue hangin' out and de buzzards fly down on he shoulder. De breeze sot him to swingin' and de buzzards fly off. I tells de people and dey takes him down to bury. He a fine, young cullud man. I don't know why dey done it. Dat after peace and de Yankees done gone back home.

"I been here in Texas a good while, and it such a rough road it got my 'membrance all stir up. I never been to school, 'cause I bound out to work. I lives with my daughter and dis child here my grandchild. I can't 'member no more, 'cause my head ain't good as it used to be."

John Sneed

*John Sneed, born near Austin, Texas, does not know his age, but was almost grown when he was freed. He belonged to Dr. Sneed and stayed with him several years after Emancipation.*

"I's borned on de old Sneed place, eight miles south of Austin, and my mammy was Sarah Sneed and pappy was Ike. Dey come from Tennessee and dere five boys and two gals. De boys am Dixie and Joe and Jim and Bob and me, and de gals name Katy and Lou. Us live in quarters what was log huts. Dere's one long, log house where dey spinned and weaved de cloth. Dere sixteen spinnin' wheels and eight looms in dat house and my job was turnin' one dem wheels when they'd thresh me out and git me to do it. Mos' all de clothes what de slaves and de white folks have was made in dat house.

"Mos' and usual de chillen sleept on de floor, unless with de old folks. De bedsteads make of pieces of split logs fasten with wooden pegs and rope criss-cross. De mattress make of shucks tear into strips with maybe a li'l cotton or prairie hay. You could go out on de prairie mos' any time and get 'nough grass to make de bed, and dry it 'fore it put in de tick. De white folks have bought beds haul by ox teams from Austin and feather beds.

"Dr. Sneed raise cotton and corn and wheat. Sometime five or six oxen hitch to de wagon and 25 or 30 wagons make what am call de wagon train. Dey haul cotton and corn and wheat to Port Lavaca what am de nearest shipping point. On de return trip, dey brung sugar and coffee and cloth and other things what am needed on de plantation. First time massa 'low me go with dat ox-train, I thunk I's growed.

"Dere a big gang of white and cullud chillen on de plantation but Dr. Sneed didn't have no chillen of he own. De neighbor white chillen come over dere and played. Us rip and play and fight and kick up us heels, and go on. Massa never 'low no whippin' of de chillen. He make dem pick rocks up and make fences out dem, but he didn't 'low no chillen work in de field till dey 'bout fourteen. De real old folks didn't work in de fields neither. Dey sot 'round and knit socks and mend de shoes and harness and stuff.

"Massa John mighty good to us chillen. He allus give us a li'l piece money every Sunday. When he'd git in he buggy to go to Austin to sell butter, de chillen pile in dat buggy and all over him so you couldn't see him and he'd hardly see to drive.

"Us had possum and rabbit and fish and trap birds for eatin'. Dere all kind wild green dem days. Us jus' go in de woods and git wild lettuce and mustard and leather-britches and polk salad and watercress, all us want to eat. Us kilt hawgs and put up de lard by de barrel. Us thresh wheat and take it to de li'l watermill at Barton Creek to grind. Dey'd only grind two bushel to de family, no matter how big dat family, 'cause dere so many folks and it such a small mill.

"Each family have de li'l garden and raise turnips and cabbage and sweet 'taters and put dem in de kiln make from corn stalks and cure dem for winter eatin'. Us have homemake clothes and brogan shoes, come from Austin or some place. Us chillen wear shirt-tail till us 'bout thirteen.

"Massa live in de big two-story rock house and have he office and drug-store in one end de house. Missy Ann have no chillen so she 'dopt one from Tennessee, name Sally.

"Dere 'bout four or five hunerd acres and 'bout sixty slaves. Dey git up 'bout daylight and come from de field in time to feed and do de chores 'fore dark. After work de old folks sot 'round, fiddle and play de 'cordian and tell stories. Dat mostly after de crops laid by or on rainy days. On workin' time, dey usually tired and go to bed early. Dey not work on Saturday afternoon or Sunday, 'cept dey gatherin' de crop 'gin a rain. Old man Jim Piper am fiddler and play for black and white dances. On Sunday massa make us go to church. Us sing and pray in a li'l log house on de plantation and sometimes de preacher stop and hold meetin'.

"Massa John Sneed doctored from Austin to Lockhart and Gonzales and my own mammy he train to be midwife. She good pneumonia doctor and massa 'low her care for dem.

"On Christmas all us go to de big house and crowd 'round massa. He a li'l man and some black boys'd carry him 'round on dere shoulders. All knowed dey gwine git de present. Dere a big tree with present for everyone, white and black. Lots of eggnog and turkey and baked hawgs and all kind good things. Dere allus lots of white folks company at massa's house and big banquets and holidays and birthdays. Us like dem times, 'cause work slack and food heavy. Every las' chile have he birthday celebrate with de big cake and present and maybe de quarter in silver from old massa, bless he soul. Us play kissin' games and ring plays and one song am like dis:

"'I'm in de well, How many feet? Five. Who'd git you out?'

"Iffen it a man, he choose de gal and she have to kiss him to git him out de well. Iffen a gal in de well, she choose a man.

"I well 'member de day freedom 'clared. Us have de tearin'-down dinner dat day. De niggers beller and cry and didn't want leave massa. He talk to us and say long as he live us be cared for, and us was. Dere lots of springs on he place and de married niggers pick out a spring and Massa Doctor give dem stuff to put up de cabin by dat spring, and dey take what dey have in de quarters. Dey want to move from dem slave quarters, but not too far from massa. Dey come to de big house for flour and meal and meat and sich till massa die. He willed every last one he slaves somethin'. Mos' of 'em git a cow and a horse and a pig and some chickens. My mammy git two cows and a pair horses and a wagon and 70 acres land. She marries 'gain when my daddy die and dat shif'less nigger she marry git her to sign some kind paper and she lose de land.

"My wife was Nanny Madeira and us have six chillen and five is livin'. I followed cattle till I's 'bout 26. I's went up de Chisholm Trail eight or nine times and druv for Massa Blocker and Jedge Brackenridge and others. On one stampede I rode 24 hours straight and after we rounds up all de cattle, I goes to sleep under a tree. Dat day I has on a buckskin coat I in gen'ral wore and I feels somethin' grab dat coat and bite my side. I rouses up and sees de big panther draggin' me off to de thicket. I has de six-gun but I couldn't git to it. Every once in a while dat panther lay me down and sniff at my nose. I jes' hold de breath, 'cause if dat panther cotch me breathin' dat been de end of me. He drug me to some bushes and den goes off a li'l way and give de yell. Dat yell make me turn cold, 'cause it sound jes' like a man screamin'. Den dat cat dug a shallow hole. I eases out my old gun, takes careful aim and den says, 'Thank you, old man,' and he turns to look at me and I shoots him right 'tween he eyes. After 'while, dat cat's mate and cub come runnin', 'cause he yell for dem, and I kilt dem, too.

"'Nother time, I seed de panther a-draggin' a white man off and I slips up jes' as de cat seizes him and shoots dat cat. Us have to run dat man down and cotch him, 'cause he scared stiff when dat dead cat fall on him.

"Some time after dat I works for a man what freights supplies 'round Austin and I's one de drivers. Us start in September with sev'ral six-wheel wagons, 'nough to las' a town de year, and not git back to Austin till January. Sometimes de mud so bad it take six oxen to pull de wagon out.

"One time us movin' and stampedin' de bunch cattle and me and my brother gits los' from de rest and was los' three days and nights. All us eat am parched corn. De grass nearly waist high to a man and us scoop out de hole in de ground and cut off tops de grass and weeds and make de fire. Den us drap de corn on de fire and parch it. De woods full wild animals and panthers and wolves. De wolves de worst. Dey slip up on us to git de chicken us has with us. At last us come to a house and finds us folks."

Mariah Snyder

*Mariah Snyder, 89, was born in Mississippi, a slave of Sam Miller, who brought her to Texas when she was five. Since Mariah's second husband died, twenty-two years ago, she has earned her living by washing and cooking. Now too old to do much, she is cared for by her only living daughter, with the aid of a $10.00 monthly pension.*

"I's borned in Mississippi. Yes, sar. I 'longed to Massa Miller and he name am Sam, and my name am Mariah. My pappy was Weldon and my mammy, Ann. Massa Sam fotches all us to Texas when I's jes' five year old and we come in wagons and hossback. He done buy my mammy and pappy in the slave market, so I don't know nothin' 'bout none my other 'lations.

"Massa Sam live in a great big, ceiled house, and had plenty land and niggers. The quarters was logs and any kind beds we could git. We wore lowell clothes and I never seed no other kind of dress till after surrender. We et meat and collards and cornbread and rough grub, and they biled all the victuals in a big, black pot what hung on a rack in the kitchen fireplace. We had red russet, flat shoes and no stockin's, but in winter we made wool panties to wear on our legs.

"Missy was name Patsy and she was purty good, and Massa Sam was purty good, too. He'd whip us if we needed it. He'd pull off our clothes and whip in the field. But he wouldn't 'low the driver to whip us if we didn't need it. No, sar. And he wouldn't have no patterrollers on the place.

"The driver come round and woke everybody up and had 'em in the field by daybreak. I's seed a whole field of niggers abreast, hoein'. The rows of cotton was so long you couldn't make but one 'fore dinnertime. I driv the gin, what was run by two mules. The cotton was wropped in baggin' and tied with ropes. It was a long time after 'fore I seed cotton tied with steel like they bales it now.

"I seed plenty niggers whipped while I driv that gin. They tied the feets and hands and rawhided 'em good. They tied a bell on one woman what run away all the time. They locks it round her head.

"I seed lots of niggers put on the block and bid off and carry away in chains. One woman name Venus raises her hands and hollers, 'Weigh dem cattle,' whilst she's bein' bid off.

"The big folks dances all night Sat'day. That's all the fun we had. We used to sing

"I'm in a lady's garden, I'm in a lady's garden, So let me out. I'm sufferin' for water and wine.

"The slaves most allus sings whilst theys workin' in the field, and one song was

"When I's here you calls me honey, When I's gone you honies everybody.

or

"The raccoon am de funny thing, Ramblin' round in de dark.

"Massa Sam have a cullud man what give us our ABC's. I still got mine, but didn't never git no further.

"Massa Sam git kilt 'fore the war. A mule throwed him. He had plenty good hosses but allus rid a mule. He come in from a neighbor's one day and the mule throwed him on a stob 'fore he got to the house. We heared a hollerin' down the road, but didn't pay no 'tention, 'cause they's allus all kind racket gwine on. Fin'ly somebody say, 'That sound like a man,' and we goes down there and it was massa. 'Fore he die he calls all the cullud chillen to him and shakes hands and tells 'em to be good.

"We 'longs to he son, Ruben, then, and stays with him three years after surrender. Lordy me! How I hates to think of 'em talkin' 'bout that war! Young missy cry a whole week, 'cause she fear her men folks gwine git kilt. They did, too. Her two boys, George and Frank, gits kilt, and heap of the neighbors boys gits kilt, too.

"Fin'ly us leaves Massa Ruben and goes to Shreveport and I marries Snyder. The 'Progo' Marshal marries us. We raises two gals and I lives with Mary. Snyder died twenty-two years ago and all them years I made a livin' washin' and ironin' and cookin', up to six years ago. I gits a pension from the gov'ment now and it am $10.00 a month. It's mighty good of the white folks to take care of this old nigger, but I'd rather work, only I ain't able no more."

Patsy Southwell

*Patsy Southwell, 83, was born in Jasper Co., Texas. She has lived on or near the old plantation all her life. Her master was Bill Trailor.*

"My name Patsy Southwell and I lives at Rock Hill. I been livin' on dat plantation all my life, but not allus in the very same place. I think the house was move and 'nother builded.

"My pappy was John Redd and he 'longed to Bill Trailor and he brung here from Virginny. Mammy's name Rose Redd and she a yaller nigger, come from South Carolina and maybe she white and Indian, too. My brothers call Dennis, George, William, and Charles and dey all dead.

"We all live in the quarters and massa a tol'able good one 'sidering others what cut and slashes bad. Pappy and mammy work in the field and dey send pappy and he sons off six months at the time, over to Alexandria, to make salt.

"My brothers hunt all the time and brung in deer and wild turkey, so we has lots to eat. We has butter and milk and honey and pappy allus have he li'l garden patch.

"We wears slip homespun dress make outten cloth from us loom. I never have shoes and us has no Sunday clothes. Massa was tol'ably good to the old folks and not so mean to the chillen. He wasn't no barbarian like some what whip the slaves every Monday mornin' befo' dey starts to work.

"Massa plantation have fifteen hunnerd acre in it and he didn't have 'nough slaves so they works awful hard. I seed 'em hit my mammy five hunnerd licks and my pappy six hunnerd. Pappy have run 'way and been gone long time and they cotch him in de water in the Neches River. He have meat and stuff and they say mammy feedin' him, but I think it the other way. I think he gittin' and sendin' her stuff.

"The white folks has the big church with the bar 'cross it and the cullud folks sit behin' the bar. If any wants to jine us tell massa and he tell the preacher, and he old man Southwell. They baptise at the mill pond.

"I marries Jerry Southwell and us git marry at home. Jerry wears the black suit and I wears the dotted white Swiss dress with the overskirt.

"When freedom breaks and massa say we free, we goes to the Haynes' place and my pappy farms for hisself. We gits on better den in slavery days and after 'while pappy buys him some land and den we all right. Me and my husban', we stays on with pappy awhile, but we gits our own farm and farm all us life."

Leithean Spinks

*Leithean Spinks, 82, was born a slave to Fay Thompson, in Rankin County, Mississippi. Soon after Leithean's birth, Mr. Thompson moved to E. Feliciana Parish, Louisiana. Leithean was happy in slave days, and stayed with her master two years after she was freed. She lives at 2600 Merrick St., Fort Worth, Texas.*

"Does I look old 'nough to be birthed in slavery? I's eighty-two years old and mammy had it right there in de Bible, marked when I's birthed, in 1855. I's birthed in Mississippi but a little while after, massa goes to Louisiana, over in East Feliciana Parish, and when I's old 'nough to 'member, we'uns am there, 'twixt New Roads and Jackson, right near the Mississippi River.

"Massa Thompson had a awful big plantation and more'n 300 cullud folks, and three rows of cabins 'bout two blocks long, and 'bout one family to a cabin. No floors in dem cabins, you stands on dirt, and de furniture am something you knows ain't there. Why, man, there am jus' benches to sit on and a homemake table and bunks. Dere am de fireplace but all de main cookin' am done in de big cookin' shed, and old Mammy Dice done it, with four to holp her.

"De bell am rung when meal time comes and all de slaves lines up, with their pans and cups and passes de service table, and de food am put on dere pans and milk in de cup. Dat de one time massa could allus 'pend on de niggers. When de bell say, 'Come and git it,' all us am there. Us takes de food to de cabins and eats it.

"Dis old nigger come near gwine to Glory once when mammy am gone to de cook shed. How 'twas am dis-a-way. She latches de door on de outside to keep us three chillen in de cabin, my sis and brudder and me. Well, in dem days, us uses tallow candles for light and pine knots when candles am short. Mammy lights de pine knot befo' she leaves and after she am gone, it falls off de hook and hits de ground and rolls a couple feet under de bunk. There am straw in de tick and right off de whole shebang am on fire. There am three of us with de door latch and all de grown-ups in de cook shed. Us hollers and yells but it am no use, and de hollerin' don't last long, 'cause de smoke gittin' thick. De fire am spreadin' fast and de bunks starts burnin'. Us am huddle togedder, skeert plumb out our wits and chokin' and coughin'.

"Den my brudder gits de idea and he grabs de big spoon and de iron poker and starts diggin' de dirt from under de log next de door. De smoke ain't so bad next de ground, and did yous ever see de dog diggin' in de rabbit hole? Dat how us digs, and seems it never gwine come a hole. Finally, a hole busted through and lets in fresh air, and den us dig some more, and it am big 'nough for my little sis to crawl through. Den us dig some more and I crawls out and my brudder starts but he gits he head outside and his shoulders wedges and there he am, stucked. Us pull and pull, but nary a inch could us budge him. He try to back up but he shirt caught on a knot and he can't do dat. So us runs for de cook shed and yells, 'Mammy, de cabin on fire.' Everybody starts to holler, 'Fire,' and mammy busts in de door and yanks brudder out dat hole, and he am sweatin' like a latherin' mare. After dey puts de fire out with de water buckets, mammy say, 'When sis gits out, why didn't she unlatch de door?' 'Cause de 'citement, us never think of dat!

"Us have plenty hawg meat and veg'tables and butter and 'lasses and honey. De food ain't short no time 'round massa, 'cause he say niggers works better when dey feeds good. De mammies leaves de babies in de nursery durin' de day and dem chillen am take good care of and has lots of milk and am all fat like hawgs.

"In de mornin' when de bell ring, everybody goes to work, but I is little and does de chores and am gap tender. De cattle am 'lowed to run where dey wants, here, there and all over. Fences am 'round de fields and yards and there am gates to go through, but us calls dem gaps. It am my job to open and close dem, 'cause somebody allus wantin' to drive or walk through dem gaps.

"MY sis am de fly chaser. She has de big fan make from de tail feathers of de peacock. 'Twas awful purty thing. She stands 'round de white folks and shoo off de flies.

"Massa Fay ain't hard on he cullud folks. He works dem steady but don't drive dem. Lots de slaves goes fishin' in de river on Saturday afternoon and Sunday, and dey cotches plenty fish.

"Us has parties and singin' and dancin' and fiddle music. Oh, Lawdy! How lonesome I gits when I thinks 'bout dem days, and de music and singin'. Sometimes 'bout a hunerd sings to once and dat sound purty and jus' go all through me.

"For runnin' off am de only hard whuppin's massa give. De run-off am tie to de log and massa lay de whuppin' on he back. De plantation am near de river and dere am lots of caves and cliffs to hide in. Massa cotch de run-offs with de nigger hounds and if he don't, dey git hongry and sneaks back. Only one gits clear away.

"One Sunday mornin' 'bout ten o'clock, massa have de bell ring and calls all us to de front gallery and makes de talk. He say, 'I's happy to tell yous is free and, 'cording to de law, yous am all citizens. Dem what wants to stay with me I'll pay de wages or dey can work on shares.' He gives us all de paper, with de name and age and where us am birthed. Me and mammy stays two years after freedom. I marries Sol Pleasant in 1872 and us has two chillen. Us sep'rate in 1876. De trouble am, he wants to be de boss of de job and let me do de work. I 'cides I don't need no boss, so I transports him, and says, 'Nigger, git out of here and don't never come back. If you comes back, I'll smack you down.'

"In 1876 I marries Frank Spinks and us has eight chlllen and he dies in 1930. All dem eight chillen lives here and I's livin' with one of dem, Mrs. Covy Kelly. 'Tain't many years befo' old Gabriel blow he horn, and I's waitin' for him."

Guy Stewart

*Guy Stewart, 87, 209 Austin Ave., Ft. Worth, was born Nov. 26, 1850, a slave of Jack Taylor, who also owned Guy's parents, 3 brothers and 3 sisters. They lived in Mansfield Parish, La. Stewart started work in the fields at seven years, and remained with his owner three years after he was freed. He then moved onto his own farm where he lived until 1898, when he moved to Fort Worth.*

"Yas, suh, I'se an ol' slave and I'se 'bout 11 years ol' when de War starts. My marster am Jack Taylor and my family belongs to him.

"I 'members de war well, 'cause we'uns hears shootin' and see soldiers. Dey comes to marster's place and takes hosses and vittals. One time dey wants some of de niggers for to help fix for de battle. Dere am heap of 'citement and de marster's 'fraid de battle come too close. He say, 'It's too close for saftment.' And he say, 'Put dis and dat away so de soldier cain't find it.'

"I starts work long 'fore dat, when I'se seven, in de cotton and co'n field. I just peddles 'round first. Marster sho' am good to us and so good dat de other white folks calls us de 'free niggers.'

"We'uns have cabins for to live in and sleep in bunks with straw ticks on 'em. We'uns has lots to eat, all we wants. And we'uns have all de clothes we needs.

"Sho, we went to church with de marster. Dey tol' us 'bout Heaven and de devil and sich. But dey never 'lows us to have books in de hands. Dey says it wasn' good for us to larn readin' or writin.' "We'uns has lots of music on dat place 'cause de marster, he am de good fiddler and he learns some of us niggers to play de fiddle and de banjo. We gits together and has de music, sing and dance. If I thinks 'bout dem days now, I can see we'uns dancin' and hear de singin' of dem ol' songs, sich like Ol' Black Joe and Swanee River. Iffen I thinks too much 'bout dem days, tears comes in dis ol' nigger's eyes. Dem were de happy days of my life. In dem days, we'uns not know what am money, never have any. What for we'uns need it? I'se more happy den, dan I been since, with money.