Part 5

"De marster am scart for to lose all de hosses and everything, 'cause dey takes it for de army man, so he gits to thinkin' 'bout movin' to Texas. De war warn't over when he goes to Texas and takes all us niggers with him. De roads dem days am not so good. No bridges over de rivers, 'cept de bigges' ones. Lots of times we'uns has to push for help de hosses pull de wagons outta de mudhole, and we'uns is over a month gettin' to Williams County. De marster rents de land dere and we stays for one crop, and den we all goes to Travis County, whar marster settle for to raise de wheat.

"When freedom comes, de marster says we'uns has to work for wages and buy all de food and de clothes and everything dat we'uns gits. Dat's not so easy. At first he pays me $5.00 a month and den pays me $10.00 de month. After three years I quits and rents a farm and works for myself, I gits married in 1877 and my wife dies in 1915. We'uns has one chile. In 1898 I comes to Fort Worth and gits me a job in de woodyard and sich.

"White man, I sho' likes for to see dat ol' plantation down in Louisiana and it would do dis ol' darky good. I sits here and thinks of de marster and de good times. And de fishin down dere! Is dere good fishin'? De folks here don' know what am fishin'.

"You has dis nigger thinkin' heaps 'bout de ol' plantation and de good times. If I don' stop talkin' 'bout dat, I gits to cryin'."

William Stone

*William Stone was born in a covered wagon, on the way from Alabama to Texas, about 1863. Though he was too small to remember slave days, he does recall many things told him by his parents and other ex-slaves. William lives in Mart, Texas.*

"My parents done told me where I's borned. It am in a covered wagon on de way from Alabama to Texas, two years 'fore freedom. Old Marse, Lem Stone, he left Alabama for Texas, where de war not so bad, and brung some he slaves with him. He done lost so much in Alabama, Yankees burnin' he house and cotton and killin' he stock, he want to git 'way from dere.

"First he come to Rusk County, den goes back to Shreveport and stays till freedom. Pappy and mammy was Louis and Car'line Stone. I lived in Louisiana till I's growed.

"Mammy and pappy done told me all 'bout de old plantation. It am hundreds of acres of land, part worked and part jus' timber and pasture. It was near Montgomery, and dey raised more cotton den anything else, but had some corn and peas and cane. Dey made sorghum and ribbon cane 'lasses and had boilin' vats for sugar, too.

"De soldiers come through. Dey named, Yankees. Dey make mammy cook somethin' to eat and den kilt all de hawgs and took de meat with dem, and burn de barn and house. Old Marse had pens to put cotton in, hid way out in de bresh. Dey picked it in gunny sacks and hides it, and slips it out to de gin by night and tries to sell it 'fore dem Yankees finds it and burns it.

"Mammy say dey all went to church and had to drive four horses when de roads muddy in winter and sand deep in summer. Dey allus carry dinner and stay all day. Den in de evenin', after de niggers had dey preachin', dey all go home. Sometimes a preacher come out to de plantation and hold church for de white folks in de mornin' and in de evenin' for de niggers, out under a big oak tree.

"De Lawd say iffen us trusts him and help to be good he gwine make our path straight. Dis was true in de days of den, 'cause our white folks tooken care of us, befo' dey was freedom and sech. Now, us gittin' old, and gits de old age pension when us too old to work.

"I works all up and down de old river when I's growed. De plantations has long staple cotton. Dey raise sugar cane and dere be twenty wagons haulin' cane to de boilin' mills. We was happy to do dat work, 'cause we knowed it mean us have plenty 'lasses in winter. Lawdy, I wish I knowed I could have all de 'lasses and bread I wanted dis winter! Dem was good times, Lawd! Us sing dis song:

"'We'll stick to de hoe till de sun go down, We'll rise when de rooster crow, And go to de field where de sunshine hot, To de field where de sugar cane grow. Yes, chilluns, we'll all go.'

"I can jes' see dem long rows of cotton and niggers drivin' de oxen and mules. I know 'nother song:

"Nigger mighty happy when he layin' by de corn, Nigger mighty happy when he hear dat dinner horn; But he more happy when de night come on, Dat' sun's a'slantin', as sho's you born! Dat old cow's a shakin' dat great big bell, And de frogs tunin' up, 'cause de dew's done fell.'

"Dat jes' after freedom. Dey have plantations and overseers like slavery, but most de overseers niggers, and dey didn't whip you den. On Saturday night de overseer pay us, mostly in rations. He give us five, maybe ten pounds rations of meat, and a peck or two or meal, and some coffee and 'lasses.

"'Dat ration day come once a week, Old massa rich as Gundy. But he give 'lasses all de week, And buttermilk for Sunday.

"'Old massa give a pound of meat, I et it all on Monday; Den I et 'lasses all de week, And buttermilk for Sunday.'

"All dis was down on de Mississippi bottom. Old Man River was sho' purty in de fall, when dem wild geeses come in droves and de blossoms red and yaller. De fogs come hang over and chills and fever gits started. De woman sot by de fire piecin' quilts and spinnin' thread, and de old men weave cotton baskets and chair bottoms, and de young men work on da levees, so dey hold Old Man River back when he start prowlin' round 'gain.

"Floods come down, no matter what time of year. One day Old Man River be runnin' 'long, jes' as peaceful and quiet, and everybody happy. Everybody meet de boats at de landin'. Den way in de night you wake up and hear a roarin' like thunder and dat river be on a tear. Folks know he am in de ugly mood, and starts movin' to higher ground. Everybody what have a wagon and mule gits out. Some jes' gits to de levee. It look like my folks told me when dey run from de Yankees, only dis time it's de river. Old Man River sho' treach'ous. After he go on one he rarin' and tearin' spells, den he gwine be so peaceful and quiet like. Look like he try to make up for he meanness.

"I gits married and moves clost to de Trinity River, and stays till my family done raised. Dey has free schools in Texas den. I works in de sawmill and dere so much wild game us can eat easy. Dem days on de Mississippi bottom is like a dream, but when I hears talk 'bout Old Man River, I can dem big waters roarin' down."

Yach Stringfellow

*Yach Stringfellow, 90, was born a slave of Frank Hubert, in Brenham, Texas. His memory is poor and, though he recalled a good many incidents of slavery days, he had little to say about his life from 1865 to the present. He now lives in Watt, Texas.*

"I'll be ninety-one years old next May, and I was borned in Brenham. My massa and missus was Frank Hubert and Sarah Ann Hubert. My daddy come from de old Africa and was tall and straight as a arrow. He was sold to a man what tooked him to California in de gold rush in 1849 and me and mammy stays with Massa Hubert. Dat how come my name ain't de same as massa have.

"I got so much misery in de head I can't 'member like I should. But I know us live in little log houses all kind of group together, and us eat in a long lean-to builded on to the big house. Us chillen had a long, scooped-out dish on a split log table. What we had to eat was dumped in dat trough and us ate it like slop. But it sho' taste good when you been huntin' for eggs or calves or gittin' in chips or breakin' bresh.

"When I's big 'nough I carries water, sometimes from de spring and sometimes from de deep well. Dere danger a little child fall in and drown and massa, he say niggers too valu'ble to risk dem dat way. It was hard work to tote water for niggers workin', 'cause allus somebody hollerin' for de water. I had to trot down de slippery bank through de thorns to de spring or pull de heavy sweep to git it out de well, and carry two buckets most de time.

"Us cut two saplin's de right size to fasten together at de end and stick dem in holes in de wall, to make de bed. Us use lace cowhide strings or any kind rope across de poles to hold de bed up. Den put hay or corn shucks and a little cotton in de ticks.

"Us eat bacon and cornbread and greens, but de white folks had more'n better. Dey didn't have to eat string victuals like us; us have to eat something to stick to de ribs. Right 'bout de time dis state come to be de United States, and de Mexicans raisin' de old billy, us cook most usual on de fireplace and have ovens by de side to make bread, and cranes for de pots.

"Us slaves used pine torches and sometimes a little bit of candle. De women make all de candles demselves for de white folks. Us didn't need much light at night, 'cause us tired after de long day, workin' from can see to can't see, and us git in de bed early.

"I wore shirt tail till I's fourteen, den de homespun britches and shirt. My weddin' suit was de dark jeans and I was fix up fine as any nigger on de plantation. She wore white and massa fix supper and git de fiddler and all sich.

"Massa have John to oversee, and he sho' de stepper. He be every place you didn't think he gwine come. He have de big, boom voice and allus slingin', and wail, 'Look along, black man, look along, dere trouble comin' sho'.' Iffen de black boy or woman lyin' in de corn row, dey git up quick and be mighty bust right soon, 'cause dat black snake whip reach for dem. Dey scramble deyself together and be de busiest in de bunch by time John git dere.

"In de long winter days de men sat round de fire and whittle wood and make butter paddles and troughs for de pigs and sich, and ax handles and hoe handles and box traps and figure-four traps. Dey make combs to git de wool clean for de spinnin'. Us take de long strip of leather and put wire in it and bend dem so dey stay, den cut dem comb-like teef and dere you are.

"Come Christmas us slaves have de big dinner and eat all day and dance till nex' mornin'. Some de niggers from near plantations git dey passes and come jine us. Course dey a drap egg nog round and candy for de chillen. De white folks have dey big carriage full of visitors and big goin's on dey come to from miles round. Us didn't have no money, but didn't have no place to go to spend it, neither.

"At night, us sat round de fire sometimes and de women sew and knit and de men whittle and told things. Dey talk 'bout charms and sich. You gwine have lots of luck iffen you cotch de rabbit in de graveyard on de dark of de moon and cut off he hind leg and wear it. Iffen you chews de piece of shoe-string root, jus' you ask anybody a favor and you sho' gwine git it."

Bert Strong

*Bert Strong was born in 1864, a slave of Dave Cavin. He and his mother remained in the service of the Cavin family for ten years after they were freed. Bert has farmed in Harrison County all his life and now lives alone on Long's Camp Road, twelve miles northeast of Marshall. He is supported by a $15.00 per month pension.*

"I been livin' here all my life. I was birthed a year and more 'fore the war stopped and 'longed to old Dave Cavin. All my folks 'longed to him over in Montgomery, in Alabama. Massa Dave buyed my mammy's papa off a 'baccy farm in Richmond, in Virginny. I heared Massa Dave say he done come to Texas 'cause he heared in Alabama this was a rich country--hawgs walkin' round with a knife in they back and you could shake money off the trees. His folks and 'bout thirty slaves cone to Texas in wagons. They was on the road three months.

"I heared my grand-people tell 'bout holpin' run the Indians out of Texas. Big Lake, on Caddo Lake, was jus' a small kind of stream them days. My grandpa was name Gloster and he died at a hunerd five years.

"Massa Cavin had 'bout four hunerd acres and builded us all good quarters with chimnies and fireplaces, and good beds and plenty food. I's too little to know all this 'fore the war, but my folks stayed with massa ten years after freedom and things was jus' the same as in slave times, only they got a little money, so I can 'member.

"My grandma was cook and there was plenty wild game, turkey and deer and pigeon and rabbits and squirrels. I 'member once they's grumblin' 'bout what they have to eat and old massa comes to the quarters and say, 'What you fussin' 'bout? They's a gallon good potlicker in the pot." I's raise on greens and pork and potlicker and 'taters and ash-cake. Dat am good food, too. I ain't never hope to see no better food dan dat.

"Massa give he slaves two sets clothes a year and one pair 'bachelor' brogan shoes with brass toes. The white folks larnt us Negroes to read and write, at night and on Sunday, and we could go to church. We had our own preacher, and massa let us have fun'rals when a slave died. They wasn't no undertakers then. They jus' made the coffin and planed the boards and lined it with black cloth. The white folks and the cullud folks, too, was put 'way nice on our place.

"They was a overseer a while, but massa fires him for cuttin' and slashin' he niggers. He made my uncle Freeman overlooker. We is heared slaves on farms close by hollerin' when they git beat. Some the neighbors works they hands till ten at night and weighed the last weighin' by candles. If the day's pickin' wasn't good 'nough, they beat them till it a pity.

"Christmas was the big time. Massa kilt the hawg or beef and sometimes a mutton, and give the slaves the big dinner. Us all hang the stockin' up on massa's gallery and it was a run to see what we'd git. He give the chillen toys and apples and the big folks somethin' to wear. He'd 'low the chillen to have candy pullin' Saturday nights and the growed folks parties. My cousin, Tom, was songster and call the plays at all the dances, and they turned 'cordin' to what he'd sing.

"When young massa went to war they calls all the slaves to tell him good-bye. They blowed the horn. He come home two times on a furlough and says, 'I's smellin' and seein' the Devil.' Then the nex' time he come home he say, 'Las' time I tells you 'bout smellin' the Devil. I's smellin' and seein' Hell now.' When the war am over, he come home and say to old massa, 'Ain't you read the 'lamation to you niggers yet?' Massa say he hasn't, and young massa blowed the horn and calls us all up and tells us we's free as he is and could work for who we please, but he like us to stay till the crop am out. He say he'd hire us and make a contrac'. Me and my mammy stays ten years, 'cause they so good it ain't no use to leave. One of the young massas am livin' here now, Mr. Tom, and I goes to see him.

"I stays with mammy till I marries and then farms for myself. That all I ever done and I'd be doin' it now if I was able. I raises two boys but they am both dead now.

"I votes once in the county 'lection and once in the president 'lection. I think any man should vote, but it ain't 'tended for women to vote.

"Mos' the young niggers am gwine to Hell. They don't 'preciate things. They has lots more'n we ever did. They can go to school and all, but they don't 'preciate it."

Emma Taylor

*Emma Taylor, 89, was born a slave of the Greer family, in Mississippi. She and her mother were sold to a Texas man, whose name Emma has forgotten. Emma lives with one of her children, in Tyler, Texas.*

"My maw and paw lived in Mississippi, and belonged to Marse Greer. Dat dere name, too. All the slaves tooken dere master's name, 'cause dey hadn't no use for a name, nohow.

"De first thing I 'members is followin' my maw in the cotton patch. She allus went ahead, pickin' cotton, and made a clean place with her sack draggin' on the ground. But de first work I ever done was feed de chickens and geese and shell corn to feed dem.

"Us nigger chillen couldn't play with de white chillen. De worstest whippin' I ever got was fer playin' with a doll what belonged to one marse's chillen. I 'members it yet and I ain't never seed a doll purty as dat doll was to me. It was make out a corncob with arms and legs what moved and a real head, with eyes and hair and mouth painted on. It had a dress out of silk cloth, jist like one my missus weared when she went to meetin'. Dat li'l gal done leave de doll under de tree, but missus found me playin' with it and whipped me hard.

"We lived in a cabin in de back field 'hind de big house, one room and a shed room, where maw done all de cookin' for de whole family. I had three brothers and three sisters, all dead, I supposes. Dey all older'n what I was. We cooked on a fireplace, and a big pot hanged on poles over de fire and de bread cook on dat fire in a skillet what was made of two pieces of iron, turn up all round. We puts de dough in one and turns de other one over it, den buries it in de coals a few minutes till it brown on de top and bottom. It was good, jist as good as nowadays, baked in a oven. Our beds was made out of straw and old rags, but we kept warm sleepin' a whole lot in one bed in winter, but we slept outside in summer.

"I was sold one time. Marse, he gittin' old and 'cide he didn't need so many slaves, so he have de sale and a man come and put us all up on a big platform. We pulls off nearly all our clothes, so as to show how big we was, and he 'gins hollerin' 'bout who gwineter buy, who gwineter buy. I was scart and thunk I has to leave maw, so I 'gins hollerin' jist as loud as he does. He turn 'round and say, 'Shut up, you li'l coon, you. I can't hear nothin'.' I hides my face in maw's apron and didn't know no more till we's all loaded in a wagon and starts to de new home. We gits dere and is give new clothes and shoes, de first ones I ever had on and it taken me a long time to larn to wear dem things on my feet.

"Us niggers has to git up at four in de mornin', and work, work till us can't see no more. Den dey work at night. De men chops wood and hauls poles to build fences and make wood, and de women folks has to spin four cuts of thread every night and make all de clothes. Some has to card cotton to make quilts and some weave and knits stockin's. Marse give each one a chore to do at night and iffen it warn't did when we went to bed, we's whipped. One time I falls plumb asleep befo' I finishes shellin' some corn, but I didn't git a bad whippin' dat time.

"Sometimes de niggers danced and played de fiddle and us chillen played in de yard. We could stay up all night dem times, but had to work next day, and hardly ever stayed up all night. Dat durin' harvest or at Christmas time.

"All de victuals was issued out by de overseer and he give 'nough for one week, den iffen us eat it all up too soon, it am jist go without. Lots of times, I went down to de 'tato patch a long time after everybody am in bed, and stole 'tatoes, so we wouldn't be hungry next day. I allus covered de hole up good and never did git cotched. De dogs got after me one time, but I put pepper in dey eyes and dey stopped. I allus carried pepper with me.

"I marries when I's fifteen, not so long befo' I'm free. Nigger men didn't git no license to marry dey gals den. Dey jist picked her out and asked marse, and iffen he 'grees, dey's married. But iffen he don't want it, dat man has to find heself 'nother gal. De men what lived on 'nother plantation couldn't see dere wives but onct every two weeks. Marse buyed my husban', Rube Taylor, and he come to live with me.

"One day marse say we's all free and we has a big celebration, eatin' and dancin'. But we near all stayed on his place for a long time after day. He paid us thirty-five cents de day and let us live in de same old houses.

"After we done left him, we jist drifts 'round, workin' for white folks, till we manages to git a farm. Rube done died a long time back, and I lives with my baby child."

Mollie Taylor

*Mollie Taylor, 84, was born a slave to John Wilson, at Campbell, Texas. After she was freed, Mollie moved with her family to an adjoining farm which they worked on shares. Mollie now lives at 522 Seaton St., Fort Worth, Texas.*

"Now den, I's no record of when I's born and just what de white folks tells me is all I knows. I'll be 84 this coming October, but just what day I don't know. I's born on Massa John Wilson's farm at Campbell, Texas and him owned my father and mother and 'bout 20 more slaves. Dere was 'bout four or five chillen in we'uns family. My father died and I don't 'member much 'bout him, but his name was Anson Wilson and my mother name was Hattie Wilson. We'uns gits de name from de massa.

"Us slaves lived in log houses back of massa's house, and they was two and three-room houses with dirt floors and de rock fireplace and just holes for windows. De flies come in de door and go out de window, but most of 'em stayed in de house. Dere was no furniture like am today. No, suh, it was homemake stuff. De bunks was built 'gainst de wall and full of straw or hay and de tables was made of split logs. Dere was de cook room and de eatin' room where all de slaves meals cooked and they ate, 'tween de slaves quarters and de massa's house.

"Massa Wilson, him feed us purty good, with de cornmeal and 'lasses and plenty coffee and milk. We has white flour once a week and massa git de sugar by de barrel. De slaves could have dere own gardens and dey raised most dere vegetables. All de chillen ate out of de wooden trough with wooden spoons. It was a sight to watch them, day just like de bunch of pigs.

"De overseer, him ring de bell 'bout half past four in de mornin' and everybody what work go to de fields. De massa purty reason'ble with de work and didn't whip much. On Sundays de old slaves goes to de church and de chillen plays.

"When war come dere lots of soldiers allus ridin' by de place, all deck out in de uniform with big, shiny buttons on de coat. When us chillen seed dem we took to de woods.

"After freedom we'uns moves to de next farm and works and I stays dere with my family till I's 'bout 25 year old, and den I marries Tom Gould and move to McLennan County. But he so mean I didn't stay with him very long, and 'bout six months of his foolishness and I ups and leaves him. After two years I marries George Taylor and I lives with dat man for 12 years and took 'nough of his foolishness, so I leaves him. I's had four chillen but Tom Gould nor George Taylor wasn't de father of any of 'em. No, suh, I just found dem chillen."

Jake Terriell

*Jake Terriell, born a slave of Felix Terriell in Raleigh, South Carolina, does not know his age. He was grown and married at the close of the Civil War, so is probably in the 90's. He lives in Madisonville, Texas.*

"Pappy and mammy was called Tom and Jane and they's cotched in Africy and brung to America and sold. My brother was called James and my sisters Lucindy and Sally. Massa Felix Terriell owned me and pappy and mammy but when I's still a chile he done give me to he son, Massa Dalton Terriell.

"My papy was de wild man and he so wild Massa Felix have to keep him locked up at night and in de chains by day to keep him from runnin' off. He had to wear de chains in de field and den he couldn't run fast.

"Massa Dalton growed de tobaccy. He was a good massa and give me de nickel and de dime sometime and I'd buy candy. He have lots of slaves and de cook fix our grub in big old skillets. We allus have de cornbread and de syrup and some meat. I likes possum cooked with sweet 'taters.

"Missy Mary try larn me read and write but I never did care for de book larnin'. Massa wake us 'bout four o'clock with de great iron and hammer and us work long as us could see.

"Massa didn't have to whip us but I seed pappy whip, with de rawhide with nine tails. He got thirty-nine licks and every lick, it brung de blood.