Dis cullud person am 84 years old and I's born on de plantation of Massa Robert Beaver , in old Georgia. He owned my mammy and 'bout 50 slaves. Now, 'bout my pappy, I lets you judge. Look at my hair. De color am red, ain't it? My beard am red and my eyes is brown and my skin am light yellow. How, who does you think my pappy was? You don't know, of course, but I knows, 'cause on dat plantation am a man dat am over six feet tall and his hair as red as a brick.  My mammy am married to a man named Fowler and he am owned by Massa Jack Fowler , on de place next to ours. Our place am middlin' big and fixed first class. He has first-class quarter for us cullud folks. De cabins am two and some three rooms and dey am built of logs and chinked with a piece of wood and daubed with dirt to fill de cracks. De way we'uns fix dat dirt am take de clay or gumbo which am sticky when it am wet. Dat dirt am soaked with water till it stick together and dem hay or straw am mixed with it. When sich mud am daubed in de cracks it stay and dem cabins am sho' windproof and warm.  De treatment am good and Massa Beaver have de choice name 'mong he neighbors for bein' good to he niggers. No work on Sunday, no work on Saturday evenin's. Dem times was for de cullud folks to do for demselves. Massa Beaver have it fixed disaway, he 'low each family a piece of groun' and dey can raise what dey likes.  De rations am measure out and de massa allus 'low plenty of meat and we has wheat flour. Mos' de niggers don't have wheat flour, but massa raises de wheat and we gits it. We kin have 'lasses and brown sugar but one thing we'uns has to watch am de waste, 'cause massa won't stand for dat.  De meat am cured with de hick'ry wood smoke and if you could git jus' one taste dat ham and bacon you'd never eat none of this nowadays meat. It sho' have a dif'rent taste.  We makes de cloth and de wool and I could card and spin and weave 'fore I's big 'nough to work in de field. My mammy larned me to help her. We makes dye from de bark of walnut and de cherry and red oak trees, and some from berries but what dey is I forgit. Iffen we'uns wants clay red, we buries de cloth in red clay for a week and it takes on de color. Den we soaks de cloth in cold salt water and it stays colored.  Massa builded a log church house for we'uns cullud folks for to go to God. Dat nigger named Allen Beaver am de preacherman and de leader in all de parties, 'cause him can play de fiddle. No, Allen am not educated, but can he preach a pow'ful sermon. O. Lawd! He am inspire from de Lawd and he preached from his heartfelt.  Dere am only one time dat a nigger gits whupped on dat plantation and dat am not given by massa but by dem patterrollers. Massa don't gin'rally 'low dam patterrollers whup on his place, and all de niggers from round dere allus run from de patterrollers onto massa's land and den dey safe. But in dis 'ticlar case, massa make de 'ception.  Twas nigger Jack what dey chases home and he gits under de cabin and 'fused to come out. Massa say, 'In dis case I gwine make 'caption, 'cause dat Jack he am too unreas'able. He allus chasin' after some nigger wench and not satisfied with de pass I give. Give him 25 lashes but don't draw de blood or leave de marks.'  Well, sir, it am de great sight to see Jack git dat whippin'. Him am skeert, but dey ain't hurtin' him bad. Massa make him come out and dey tie him to a post and he starts to bawl and holler befo' a lick am struck. Say'. Him beg like a good fellow. It am, 'Oh, massa, massa, Oh, massa, have mercy, don't let 'on whup me. Massa, I won't go off any more.' De patterrollers gives him a lick and Jack lets out a yell dat sounds like a mule bray and twice as loud.  Dere used to be a patterroller song what sent like dis:  Up de hill and down de holler White man cotch nigger by de collar Dat nigger run and dat nigger flew, Dat nigger tore he shirt in two.'  Well, while dey's whuppin' dat nigger, Jack , he couldn't run and he couldn't tear he shirt in two, but he holler till he tear he mouth in two. Jack say he never go off without de pass 'gain and he kept he word, too.  De big doin's am on Christmas Day and de massa have present for each cullud person. Dey am little things and I laughs when I thinks of them, but de cullud folks sho' 'joy dem and it show massa's heart am right. For de chillen it am candy and for de women, a pin or sich, and for de men, a knife or sich. On dat day, preacherman Allen sho' have de full heart, and he preach and preach

But de war starts and it not so happy on massa's place and 'fore long he two sons goes to dat war. De massa show worryment 'cause dey fightin' here and dere and den come de day when dey fight right nex' to de massa's place. It an in de field next to we'uns and de two boys, young Charley and he brother, Bob , am in de fight. It am for sev'ral days de army am a-marchin' to de field and gittin' ready for de battle. Durin' dat time, de two boys comes home for a spell every day. Early one mornin' de shootin' starts and it am not much at first but it ain't long till it am a steady thunder and it keep up all day.  De missy am walkin' in de yard and den go in de house and out 'gain. She am a-twistin' her hands and cryin'. She keeps sayin', 'Dey sho' gits kilt, my poor babies.' De massa talk to her to quiet her. Dat help me, too, 'cause I sho' skeert. Nobody do much work dat dey, but stand round with quiverments and when dey talk, dey voice quiver. Why, even de buildin's quivered. Every once in de while, dere am an extry roar. Dat de cannon and every time I heered it, I jumps. I's sent to git de eggs and have 'bout five dozen in de basket, holdin' it in front of me with my two hands. All a sudden, one of dem extry shoots comes and down dis nigger kid go and my head hits into de basket. Dere I is, eggs cozin' all round me and I so skeert and fussed up I jus' lays and kicks. I wants to scream but I can't for de eggs in my mouth. To dis day I thinks of dat battle every time I eats eggs.  De nex' day after de battle am over, mos' us cullud folks goes to de field, Some of 'em buries de dead, and I hears 'em tell how in de low places de blood stand like water and de bodies all shoot to pieces. "Massa's sons not kilt and am de missy glad! She have allus colored folks come to de house and make us kneel down and she thank de Lawd for savin' her sons. Dey even go to other places and fights, but dey comes home after de war am over. 

Surrender come and massa tells us we can stay or go and if we stay he pay us wages or we works on shares. Some go and some stay. Mammy and me goes to de Fowler place with my stepfather and we share crops for three year.  I stays with dem till I's 18 and den I gits married. Dat in 1871 and my wife died in 1928 and we'uns have four chillen. All dat time I's farmed till 'bout 30 year ago when I works in de packin' plant here in Fort Worth. I works dere 20 years and den dey say I's too old and since den I works at de odd jobs till 'bout five years ago.  Since I's quit work at de packin' plant it am hard for dis cullud person. I soon uses up my savin's and den I's gone hongry plenty times. My chillen am old and dey havin' de hard time, too. My friends helps me a little and I gits de pension, but it am only $8.00 a month and, course, dat ain't 'nough.  After all dese years I's worked and 'haved, I never thinks I comes to where I couldn't git 'nough to eat. I's am wishful for de Lawd to call me to jedgment.

Louis Fowler , 84, was born a slave to Mr. Robert Beaver , who owned a plantation in Macon Co., Ga. Fowler did not take his father's name as was the custom but took his stepfather's, who was owned by Mr. J. Fowler , Mr. Beaver's neighbor. Fowler farmed after freedom until 30 years ago when he came to Ft. Worth, where he secured work in the packing plants. His age forced him to quit about 10 years ago and his sole support now is the donations of friends and an $8.00 pension received monthly from the State of Tex. He was married in 1870. His wife died in 1928. Four children were born to them, two of them residing in Ft. Worth now. All of his children are now past 65 and unable to assist their father who resides at 2706 Holland St., Ft. Worth, Texas. His story

Dis cullud person am 84 yeahs ol' an' I's bo'n on de plantation ob Marster Robert Beaver in Macon County, in ol' Georgia. Marster Beaver owned my mammy an' 'bout 50 udder slaves. Now 'bout my father, I's let yous judge. Look at my haiah. De color am red, aint it? My beard am red, an' my eyes brown, my skin am light yellow. Now, who does yous think my father was? Yous don't know, ob co'se, but I's know 'cause on dat plantation am a man dat am over six feet tall an' his haiah am red as a brick.  My mammy am mai'ied to a man named Fowler . He am owned by Marster Jack Fowler , who owned de plantation nex' to Marster Beaver's . How come I's took de name ob Fowler am 'cause Marster Beaver 'nsist I's do dat.  Marster Beaver's place am middlin' big an' fixed fust class. He had fust class quatahs fo' de cullud fo'ks. De cabins am two, an' some three rooms. Dey am built ob logs an' chinked wid a piece ob wood an' daubed wid dirt to fill de cracks. De way weuns fix de dirt am dis away: weuns took sich dirt as de clay or de gumbo which am sticky when it am wet. Dat dirt am soaked wid wautah 'til it sticks togedder. Weuns also mix hay or straw wid it. W'en sich mud am daubed in de cracks 'twix de logs, it stays. Dem cabins sho am windproof an' wahm.  In one room am de fiah place whar de cookin' am done an' it am also used fo' heatin' in cold weddah. In de udder rooms am de bunks fo' sleepin'. De bunks am built f'om boa'ds fastened to de wall. Deys have wooden slats an' straw ticks. De table fo' eatin' an' de benches am in de room 'less it am a three room cabin. Den de table an' benches am in de third room. De flooah am dirt. Dat am de custom dem days.  De treatment am good. Marster Beaver had de choice name 'mong de neighbors fo' bein' good to his niggers.  Thar am no wo'k on Sunday, nor on a Satid'y evenin'. Dem times was fo' de cullud fo'ks to do fo' demse'ves. Marster Beaver have it fix dis away: he 'lows each fam'ly a piece ob groun' dat de cullud fo'ks can plant fo' dere own use. On dat groun' dey can raise w'at deys lak, so if de nigger don't git 'nough veg'tables, 'tis 'cause him am too shif' less but de Marster watch dat an' fo'ce sich nigger to 'tend to his gahden.  De rations am measured out an' de Marster always 'lows plenty ob meat, co'n meal an' wheat flouah. Yas Sar, weuns have all de wheat flouah weuns wants. De Marster raise de co'n an' wheat an' it am took to de wautah mill an' groun'. Weuns have plenty ob 'lasses, fruit, brown sugah, anything weuns needed. One thing weuns have to watch an' dat am fo' de waste. If de Marster catch weuns wastin' de rations, he punish weuns fo' sich by makin' weuns go widout something weuns lak.  Ever'thing weuns use on de place am raised right dere. De main crop am cotton but fo' de plantation's use, de Marster raised cane, wheat, co'n, veg'tables an' he also have a big fruit o'chard. He had chickens, tu'keys, an' a big herd ob hawgs an' cows. De meat am cured wid hick'ry wood smoke an' if yous could git a taste ob dem hams an' bacons, yous would says,  twarnt any udder meat. Yas Sar! Dere never was any sich meat dat I's gits since.  De clothes am made f'om de cloth dat am made f'om de cotton an' wool dat am grown on Marster's plantation. De cotton an' wool am cahded, spun an' weaved, also dyed right dere How deys dye de cloth am dis away: de dyes am made f'om de bahk ob walnut, cherry an' red oak trees while some am made f'om berries dat am found in de woods. Now, de bahk am put in wautah an' boiled 'til it am an ooze, de diffe'nt bahk makes de diffe'nt colors. Also, if weuns want clay red, weuns bury de cloth in red clay fo' a week an' de cloth would took on de red clay color. To make de dye fast color, weuns soak de cloth in cold salt wautah aftah it am dyed.  Marster Beaver 'lows de pahties an' dey am held mos'ly, on Satid'y night an' on Sunday aftah chu'ch. Yas Sar! Weuns have a chu'ch on dat dere plantation. De Marster built a log chu'ch house fo' weuns cullud fo'ks fo' to go to God. De nigger named Allen Beaver am de preachahman an' de leadah in de pahties 'cause him can play de fiddle. No, Allen am not edumacated. He can't even read or write his name but he can preach a powe'ful sermon. He am inspire f'om de Lawd. It am placed in his heart an' he preached f'om his heartfelt.  Dat cullud preachahman always says w'en he stahts to preach,  De Lawd puts in my heart to says, den he tells w'at his heartfelt am. I's 'membahs well de main thing Allen always preaches. He says: De way ob de Lawd am mysterious, believe in De Lawd an' Him will guide yous. He make de heaven an' de earth, He make de day fo' wo'k an' de night fo' rest, He wants yous to 'bey de Marster an' yous shall be 'warded in heaven.  Den him tell how weuns can be good an' please de Lawd. 'Twarnt hahd to be good on de Marster's place 'cause him am good an' if de cullud person am reasonable atall, 'tis no chance fo' trouble.  Dere am on'y one time dat a nigger gits whupped on de plantation an' dat am not given by de Marster but am given by de Patter Rollers. It am dis away: de Marster don't gen'ally 'lows de Patter Rollers to whup on his place, so if a nigger am off de place widout de pass an' de Patters tooks aftah him, if he can git to de Marster's land, him am safe. In dis pa'ticulah case, de Marster made de 'ception.  Twas nigger Jack dat deys chase home. Jack gits home befo' deys could catch him an' gits undah de cabin an' 'fused to come out. De Marster says,  In dis case, I's gwine to make 'ception to de rule 'cause Jack am too unreasonable. He always goes chasin' aftah some nigger wench an' am not satisfied wid de liberal pass I's gives. Tharfo', yous can give him 25 lashes but don't draw de blood or leave any mahks", so dat's how Jack gits whupped on de Marster's place.  Well Sar, it am a great sight to see Jack git dat whuppin'. Him am mo' skeert dan hu't. Now, if deys don't draw blood or leave a mahk, how can dey hu't him? A chil's could stand it. De Marster makes Jack come out f'om undah de house an' deys tie him to a post. Dat nigger stahts to bawl an' bellow befo' a lick a struck. Say!, him beg lak a good fellow. It am,  Marster, Marster, Oh Marster, have mussy, don't let dem whup me! Marster, I's wont go off anymo'!", but de Marster can't heah him it seems lak. He am suddenly hahd to heah 'cause de Marster says,  Give it to him, boys!  De Patter Rollers give him a lick an' Jack lets out a yell dat soun's lak a mule bray an' twice as loud. Dere used to be a Patter Roller song dat went something lak dis:  Up the hill an' down the holler White man caught dat nigger by de collar Dat nigger run an' dat nigger flew Dat nigger tore his shirt in two. Nigger Jack didn't run or tore his shirt in two but dat nigger holler 'til he tore his mouth in two   De next day de Marster goes to Jack an' says,  Jack , I's hate to 'lows de Patter Rollers give yous de whuppin' but yous wont mind 'bout de pass". Dere am tears runnin' down Jack's face an' him promise de Marster never to go off 'gain an' Jack sho keeps his wo'd.

Dere warnt any reason fo' de cullud fo'ks to chase off widout de pass, 'cause de Marster 'lows plenty ob passes an' pahties, so Jack got w'at am good fo' fool niggers. De pahties am singin' an' dancin' an' dis nigger sho lak dat fun an' good singin'. Dere was some niggers dat am powe'ful good singahs an' had 'ceptional voices. Anyway, dat's w'at de Marster 'lows. Nigger Jack am a bass singah. M'ybe dat's w'y he could holler so loud w'en de Patters whupped him. De Marster always listen to de niggers sing. De songs am sich as dey learnt f'om preachahman Allen. I's now fo'git de names ob mos' ob dem but de names ob some am,  Hallelujah, I's a camin an' de one I's lak de bes' am,  On de udder side ob Jordan.  De big doin's am on Christmas Day. On dat day, de Marster have a present fo' each cullud person. De presents am simple things. I's laugh now w'en I's think ob dem but de cullud fo'ks sho 'joy dere presents an' it showed de Marster's heart am right. Fo' de chilluns, it am candy. Fo de womens, it am a pin or sich an' fo' de men, it am a knife or sich.  On Christmas Day, preachahman Allen sho have a full heart. On dat day, he preach 'bout de Lawd bein' nailed to de cross. He tells how de Lawd am larnin' de people to live good an' de fo'ks wid evil in dere heart, took de Lawd an' put a big wooden cross on His back an' deys fo'ce Him to walk through de street an' up a big hill. W'en He gits to de top, dey drives nails through His hands an' feet an' nail Him to de cross. Deys leave Him dere 'til He dies an' w'ile He am a diein', de Lawd calls fo' wautah an' dey gives Him gall 'stead. "W'en preachahman Allen tell dat story f'om his heartfelt, de cullud fo'ks cry an' moan 'cause dey feel powe'ful sorry fo' de Lawd.  W'en de wah stahts, 'twas not so happy on de Marster's place an' 'twarnt long 'til de Marster's two sons goes to de ahmy. 'Twas Charley an' young Marster Bob dat j'ined. De Marster shows worryment 'cause deys am in de fightin' heah an' dere an' den comes a day w'en deys fight next to de Marster's place. It am in a field next to weuns an' de two boys am in dat fight. "It am fo' sev'ral days dat de ahmy am a marchin' to de field an' gittin' ready fo' de battle. Durin' dat time, de two boys come home fo' a spell each day. 'Twas early one mo'nin' w'en de shootin' stahts. It am not much at fust but 'twarnt long 'til it am a steady thundah an' it keeps up all day.  De Missy am a walkin' in de yahd an' den goes in de house an' den out 'gain. She am a twistin' her hands an' cryin'. She keeps saysin', "Deys sho gits killed, my poor babies". De Marster talks to her 'cause he wants to quiet her. Dat he'ps me too 'cause I's sho am skeert.  Nobody do much wo'k dat day. Deys jus' stand 'roun' wid quiverments an' w'en dey talk, dere voice would quiver. W'y, even de buildins quavered. Ever' once in a w'ile, dere am an extra roar. Dat am de cannon an' ever' time I's heah dat big roar, I's jump. I's sent to git de eggs an' I's have 'bout five dozen an' am carryin' dem in a baskit, holdin' it in f'ont ob me wid my two hands. All a sudden, one ob dem extra shoots comes an' down dis nigger kid goes an' my head hits into de baskit. Dere I's am, eggs oozin all 'roun me. I's so skeert an' fustup dat I's jus' lay dere an' kick. I's want to scream but I's can't fo' de eggs in my mouth. My mammy had to come an' pick me out ob de mess. Yous know, to dis day I's think ob dat battle ever' time I's eat eggs.  De next day aftah de battle am over, mos' ob de cullud fo'ks go to de field. Deys he'p to bury de dead an' sich. Aftah dat, I's heah dem tell how in de low places, blood stood lak wautah an' bout how some ob dem bodies am shoot to pieces.  Did I's go to bury de dead? No Sar! Dis cullud boy have no truck fo' sich places. I's so skeert ob dat field dat I's wouldn't look dat way. Dat am one place I's want to come f'om, not go to.  De Marster's sons am not hu't an am de Missy glad? She have allus cullud fo'ks come to de house an' she make us kneel down an' den she thank de Lawd fo' savin' her sons. Co'se, dey goes to some udder place an' fight an' deys don't git hu't, so dey come home aftah de wah am over.  No, 'twarnt any raids fo' de Marster's rations durin' de wah. He gives de extra him have an' dat keeps off de raids. 

W'en surrendah comes, de Marster calls allus cullud fo'ks togedder an' tells weuns dat weuns can stay or go some udder place 'cause weuns am free. He offer dem dat stay, wages or land to wo'k on shares. Some go an' some stay. Mammy an' I's go to de Fowler place whar my stepfather am an' dere, weuns share crop fo' three yeahs an' den deys move to anudder place neah by. "I's stay wid my fo'ks 'til I's 18 yeahs ol', an' den I's gits mai'ied. Dat was in 1871 an' my wife died in 1928. Weuns reared fouah chilluns.  I's fahmed 'til 'bout 30 yeahs ago w'en I's come to Fort Worth an' gits a job in de packin' plant. I's wo'ked dere fo' 20 yeahs an' den dey tol' me dat I's too ol' an' would have to quit me. Since den, I's wo'k at odd jobs 'til 'bout five yeahs ago.  Since I's stop wo'k at de packin' plant, it am hahd fo' dis cullud person. I's soon lived up my savin's an' den I's had to go hongry lots ob times. My two chilluns am ol' an' deys havin' a hahd time too, so dey can't he'p me. I's am at de mussy ob my friends an' if 'twarnt fo' dem, I's don't know w'at would become ob me. Sure, I's gits a pension but it am $8.00 a month an' co'se dat aint 'nough. "Aftah all dese yeahs dat I's wo'ked an' behaved, I's never think dat I's would come to whar I's could not git 'nough to eat. I's am wishin' fo' de Lawd to call me to judgment.