Texas Slave Narratives

Texas Slave Narrative

  James Hayes

James Hayes , 101, was born a slave to a plantation owner whose name he does not now recall, in Shelty Co., two miles from Marshall, Texas. Mr. John Henderson bought the place, six slaves and James and his mother. James , known as Uncle Jim , seems happy, still stands erect, and is very active for his age. He lives on a green slope overlooking the Trinity river, in Moser Valley, a Negro settlement ten miles northeast of Fort Worth.

Dis nigger have lived a long time, yas, suh! I's 101 years ole, 'cause I's bo'n Dec. 28, 1835. Dat makes me 102 come nex' December. I can' 'memer my rust marster's name. 'cause when I's 'bout two years ole, me and my sis, 'bout five, and our mammy was sol' to Marster John Henderson . I don' 'member anything 'bout my pappy, but I 'member Marster Henderson jus' like 'twas las' weak. I's settin' hear a thinkin' or dam ole days when I's a lil' nigger a cuttin' up on ol' marster's plantation. How I did play roun' with de chilluns till I's big enough for to wo'k. After I's 'bout 13, I jus' peddles roun' de house for 'bout a year, den 'twarn't long till I hoes co'n and potatoes. Dere's six slaves on dat place and I coul' beat dem all a-hoein". De marster takes good care of us and sometimes give us money, 'bout 25 cents, and lots us go to town. Dat's when we was happy and celebrates. We'uns spent all de money on candy and sweet drinks. Marster never crowded us 'bout de wo'k, and never give any of us whuppin's. I's sev'ral times needed a whuppin', but de marster never gives dis nigger mere'n a good scoldin'. De nearest I comes to gittin whupped, 'twas once when I stole a plate of biscuits offen de table. I warn't in need of 'em, but de devil in me caused me to do it. Marster and all de folks comes in and sets down, and he asks for de biscuits, and I's under de house and could hear 'em talk. De cook says. 'I's put de biscuits on de table.' Marster says, 'If you did, de houn' got 'em.' cook says, 'If a houn' got 'em, 'twas a two-legged one, 'cause de plate am gone, too.' I's made de mistake of takin' de plate. Marster give me de wors' scoldin' I ever has and dat larned me a lesson. Not long after dat, Marster sol' my mammy to his brudder who lived in Fort Worth. When dey took her away. I's powerful grieved. 'Bout dat time de war started. De marster and his boy, Marster Ben, jined de army. De marster was a sergeant. De women folks was proud of dere men folks, but dey was powerful grieved. All de time de men's away, I could tell Missy Elline and her mamma was worried. Dey allus sen's me for de mail, and when I fotches it, dey run to meet me, anxious like, to open de letter, and was skeert to do it. One day I fotches a letter and I could feel it in my bones, dere was trouble in dat letter. Sure 'nough, dere was trouble, heaps of it. It tells dat Marster Ben am kilt and dat dey was a shippin' him home. All de ole folks, cullud and white, was cryin'. Missy Elline , she fainted. When de body comes home, dere's a powerful big funeral and after dat, dere's powerful weepin's and sadness on dat place. De women folks don' talk much and no laughin' like 'fore. I 'members once de missy asks me to make a 'lasses cake. I says, 'I's got no 'lasses.' Missy says, 'Don' say 'lasses, say molasses.' I says, 'Why say molasses when I's got no 'lasses.' Dat was de fus' time Missy laugh after de funeral. Durin' de war, things was 'bout de same, like always, 'cept some vittles was scarce. But we'uns had plenty to eat and us slaves didn' know what de War was 'bout. I guess we was too ign'rant. De white folks didn' talk 'bout it 'fore us. When it's over, de Marster comes home and dey holds a big celebration. I's workin' in de kitchen and dey tol' me to cook heaps of ham, chicken, pies, cakes, sweet 'taters and lots of vegetables. Lots of white folks comes and dey eats and drinks wine, dey sings and dances. We'uns cullud folks jined in and was singin' out in de back, 'Massa's in de Col', Har' Groun'. Marster asks us to come in and sing dat for de white folks, so we'uns goes in de house and sings dat for de white folks and dey jines in de chorus. Three days after de celebration, de marster calls all de slaves in de house and says, 'Yous is all free, free as I am.' He tol' us we' uns could go if we'uns wanted to. None of us knows what to do, dere warn't no place to go and why would we'uns wan' to go and leave good folks like de marster? His place was our home. So we'uns asked him if we could stay and he says. 'Yous kin stay as long as yous want to and I can keep yous.' We'uns all stayed till he died, 'bout a year after dat. 

When he was a-dyin', marster calls me to his bed and says, 'My dyin' reques' is dat yous be taken to your mama.' He calls his son, Zake , in and tells him dat I should be fotched to my mamma. And 'bout in a year, Marster Zake fotches me to my mamma, in Johnson Station, south of Arlington. She's wo'kin' for Jack Ditto and I's pleased to see her. I's pleased to see my mammy, but after a few days I wants to go bad to Marshall with Marster Zake . Dat was my home, so I kep' pesterin' marster to fetch me back, but he slips off and leaves me. I has to stay and I's been here ever since. I gits my fust job with Certer Cannon, on a farm, and stays seven years. Den I goes to Fort Worth and takes a job cookin' in de Gran' Hotel for three years. Den I goes to Dallas and cooks for private families, and we'ks for Marster Janes Ellison for 30 years. I stops four years ago and comes out here to wait till de good Lawd calls me home. Bout gittin' married, after I quits de Gran' Hotel I marries and we'uns has two chillen. My wife died three years later. You knows, I believes I's mo' contented as a slave. I's treated kind all de time and had no frettin' 'bout how I gwine git on. Since I's been free, I sometimes have heaps of frettin'. Course, I don' want to go back into slavery, but I's paid for my freedom. I's never been sick abed, but I's had mo' misery dis las' year dan all my life. It's my heart. If I live till December. I'll be 102 years old, and dis ole heart have been pumpin' and pumpin' all den years and have missed nary a beat till dis las' year. I knows 'twon't be long till de good Lawd calls dis ole nigger to cross de Ribber Jordan and I's ready for de Lawd when he calls.


James Hayes , 101, was born a slave to an unknown plantation owner in Shelby Co., two miles from Marshall, Texas. Mr. John Henderson bought the place, six slaves, James and his mother. James , now known as Uncle Jim, seems to be very contented, stands erect, walks with a ready step and shoulders back. He is now living on a green slope overlooking Trinity River with its alternating woods and pastures in a home located in Moser Valley, a negro settlement ten miles N. E. of Ft. Worth on Tex. Hwy. #15.

Dis nigger have lived a long time, yas sah! Ise 101 yeahs ol'. Ise bo'n Decembah 28th, 1835. Dat makes me 102 come nex' Decembah. Ise bo'n in Shelby County, Texas. Dats two miles f'om Marshall. Ise can't 'membah my fust Marster's name. W'en Ise 'bout two yeahs ol', my sis 'bout five, we uns an' our mammy was sol' to Marster John Henderson . Hes also buys de fahm, an' de res' ob de slaves. Ise don' 'membah anything 'bout my pappy. Ise jus' too young, Ise guess. Ise settin' heah a thinkin' ob dem ol' days w'en Ise a little nigger a cuttin' up on ol' Marster's plantation. Ise 'membahs Marster Henderson jus' lak 'twas las' week. How Ise did play 'roun' wid de chilluns 'til Ise big 'nough fo' to wo'k. Aftah Ise 'bout thirteen, Ise jus' peddles 'roun' de house fo' 'bout a yeah. Den 'twarnt long 'til Ise hoe de co'n an' p'taters. Dere was six slaves on dat place an' Ise could beat dem all a hoein'. De Marster takes good keer ob us. Often de Marster would gives de cullud fo'ks money, 'bout 25cents an' lets us go to town. Dat was w'en we was happy an' celeb'ated. We uns spent all de money on candy an' sweet drinks. He never crowded us 'bout de wo'k, an' never gives any ob us whuppin's. Ise several times needed a whuppin', but de Marster never gives dis nigger more'n a good scoldin'. De nearest Ise comes to gittin' a whuppin', 'twas once w'en Ise stole a plate ob biscuits offen de table. Ise warnt in need of 'em, but de devil in me caused me to do it. Dey was a fixin' to eat an' de cook sets de plate ob biscuits on de table. Ise seen him as Ise comin' in de door. Ise slips up an' takes plate an' all, an' goes undah de house. Marster an' all de fo'ks comes in an' sets down. He asks fo' de biscuits, an' Ise undah de house an' could heah 'em ta'k. De cook says, "Ise put de biscuits on de table". Marster says, "If you did, de houn' got 'em". De cook says, "If a houn' got 'em, 'twas a two legged one, 'cause de plate am gone too." Ise made de mistake ob takin' de plate. De cook says, "Ise looks fo' dat houn'". She looks undah de house, an' sure 'nough, she fin's dis houn' wid de empty plate an' calls de Marster an' says, "Heahs de houn' an' he was powe'ful hongry." Ise knows Ise gwine to git a whuppin', but de Marster gives me de worst scoldin' Ise ever had. Dat larned me a lesson, Ise never done sich any mo'. Twarnt long aftah dat 'til de Marster sol' my mammy to his brudder, who lived in Fort Worth. W'en dey took her away, Ise powe'ful grieved. 'Bout dat time, de wah stahted. De Marster an his boy, Marster Ben , j'ined de ahmy. De Marster was a Se'geant. Dat lef' one boy at home, Marster Zeke . He took cha'ge ob de place. De wimmins fo'ks was proud ob dere men fo'ks, 'cause dey went to de ahmy, but dey was powe'ful grieved. Alls de time de mens was away, Ise could tell Missy Elline an' her mamma was worried. Deys always sen's me fo' de mail, an' w'en Ise fetched it, dey would run to meets me, anxious lak, to open de letter, an' was skeert to do it. One day Ise fetched a letter, Ise could feel it in my bones, dere was trouble in dat letter. Sure 'nough, dere was trouble, heaps ob it. It tells dat Marster Ben am killed an' dat dey was a shippin' him home. All de ol' fo'ks, cullud an' w'ite, was a cryin'. Missy Elline , she fainted. Marse Henderson , she wouldn't ta'k, jus' sat an' looked an' looked far off. W'en Marster Ben's body comes home, dere was a powe'ful fune'al. Alls de cullud fo'ks an' de w'ite fo'ks was dere. Aftah dat, dere was powe'ful weepin's an' sadness on dat place. De wimmins fo'ks didn't ta'k much. Dere warnt any laughin' lak dere was befo'. Ise den he'pin' in de kitchen, dey had larned dis nigger to cook. Ise 'membahs once, de missy asks me to make a 'lasses cake. Ise says, "Ise got no 'lasses". De Missy says, Don' say 'lasses, say molasses." Ise says, "Why say molasses w'en Ise got no lasses." Dat was de fust time Missy laugh aftah de fune'al. Durin' de wah, things was 'bout de same, lak always, 'cept some victuals was sca'ce. But we uns had plenty to eat. Us slaves didn't know w'at de wah was 'bout. Ise guess we uns was too ignor'nt. De w'te fo'ks didn't ta'k 'bout de wah befo' us. W'en it was over, de Marster comes home. Dey holds a big celeb'ation. Ise a wo'kin' in de kitchen an' dey tol' me to cook heaps ob ham, chicken, pies, cakes, sweet p'taters, an' lots ob veg'tables. Lots ob w'ite fo'ks comes an' dey eats an' drinks wine, dey sings an' dances. We uns cullud fo'ks j'ined in dat celeb'ation. We uns was a singin' out in de back yahd, "Masse's in De Col' Hahd Groun'." De Marster comes out to listen, den he says,  Yous niggers come in de house an' sing dat fo' de w'ite fo'ks". We uns goes in de house an' sing dat fo' de w'ite fo'ks. All de w'ite fo'ks j'ined in de chorus. Three days aftah de celeb'ation, de Marster calls all de slaves in de house an' says, "Yous all free, free as Ise am." He tol' us we uns could go if we uns wanted to. None of us knows w'at to does, dere warnt no place to go an' w'y did we uns want to leave good fo'ks lak de Marster? His place was our home. We asked him if we uns could stay, an' he says,  Yous can stay as long as yous want to, an' Ise can keep yous. Marster would have a hahd time to drive us away. We uns all stayed 'til de Marster died 'bout a yeah aftah. W'en de Marster was a dyin', he calls me to his bed an' says, "My dyin' request is dat yous be taken to your mamma." He calls Marster Zeke in an' tells him dat Ise should be fetched to my mamma. 'Bout a yeah aftah de Marster died, Marster Zeke fetched me to my mammy. She was a livin' in Johnson Station, dats south ob A'lington, an' was wo'kin' fo' Jack Ditto . Ise pleased to see my mammy, but aftah a few days, Ise wants to goes back to Marshall wid Marster Zeke . Dat was my home an' Ise feels dat Ise have a right to goes back if Ise wants to. Ise kept pesterin' Marster Zeke to fetch me back, but he slipped off an' lef' me. Ise have to stay an' Ise been here ever since, 'cept fo' a few weeks visit, 'bout five yeahs aftah dat. Ise gits my fust job fo' pay, wo'kin' on a fahm near Village Creek. Ise wo'ks fo' de man, Carter Gannon, seven yeahs. Den Ise went to Fort Worth, takes a job cookin' in de Gran' Hotel, on de corner ob Commerce an' Weatherford Street. Ise wo'ks dere fo' three yeahs, den Ise goes to Dallas an' cooks fo' private fam'lies. Ise cooks fo' Marster James Ellison fo' 30 yeahs. Ise stopped four yeahs ago, an' comes out heah to wait 'til de good Lawd calls me home. Bout gittin' ma'ied, aftah Ise quits de Gran' Hotel, Ise got ma'ied. We uns had two chilluns. My wife died three yeahs aftah we uns was ma'ied. Both chilluns now dead. Later Ise ma'ied 'g'in. 'Bout fifteen yeahs ago, my second wife dies. We uns had no chillun. My second wife already had chilluns. Ise livin' wid my step daughter now. Yous know, Ise b'lieve Ise mo' contented as a slave. Ise treated kind alls de time an' had no frettin' 'bout how Ise gwine to git on. Since Ise been free, Ise sometimes have heaps ob frettin'. Course Ise don' want to goes back into slavery, but Ise paid fo' my freedom. Yas sah, Ise never been sick abed. Ise had little misery ob de stomach an' de laks. Ise had mo' misery dis las' yeah dan alls my life. It's my heart. If Ise live 'til Decembah, Ise will be 102 yeahs ol'. Dis ol' heart have been pumpin' an' a pumpin' alls dem yeahs an' have missed nary a beat 'til dis las' yeah. Ise knows 'twont be long 'til de good Lawd calls dis ol' nigger to cross de River Jordan. Ise ready fo' de Lawd w'en he calls.


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