Yas, sir, I's de old slave, and 'bout my age, I am young woman when de war started. Mus' be 90 for sure and maybe more. My marster's name was Charles Corneallus and hims owned a small farm near Palestine and him had jus' four slaves, my mammy, my sister and my cousin and me. I don' know 'bout my pappy, for reason he's sold 'fore I's born and I ain' never seed him. I tell you 'bout de place. Dere was a cabin with bunks for to sleep on and fireplace for to cook in. No window was in dat cabin, jus' a hole with a swingin' door and dat lets flies in durin' de summer and col' in durin' de winter. But if you shut's dat window dat shut out de light. De marster ain' de boss of dis nigger, 'cause I 'longs to Missy Corneallus and she don' 'low any other person boss me. My work was in de big house, sich as sewing, knitting and 'tending Missy. I keeps de flies off her with de fan and I does de fetching for her, sich as water and de snack for to eat, and de likes. When she goes to fix for sleep I combs her hair and rubs her feet. I can't 'member dat she speak any cross words to dis nigger. Our marster, he good to us and take we'uns to church. And whuppin', not on him place. De worst am scoldin'. Not many have sich a good home, 'cause lots gits 'bused powerful bad. Marster's neighbor, he's mean to his niggers and whups 'em awful, De devil sho' have dat man now! My mammy git de p'sentment lots of times. Often in de mornin' she say to me, 'Chile, dere am gwine be someone die, I seed do angels last night and dat am sho' sign.' Sho' 'nough, 'fore long we heered someone has died. Some says de haunts brings p'sentment to mammy. Bore de War I hears de white folks talking 'bout it. I 'members hearin' 'bout someone fires on de fort and den de mens starts jinin' de army. De marster didn' go and his boy too young. We didn' hear lots 'bout de war and de only way we knows it goin' on, sometimes we'uns couldn' git 'nough to eat. After freedom we'uns see de Klux and dey is round our place but day not come after us. Dey comes across de way 'bout a nigger call Johnson , and him crawls under him house, but dey makes him come out and gives him some licks and what de bellow come from dat nigger! Him had git foolishment in him head and day come to him for dat. After de war mammy and me goes to Chamber's Creek and takes de sewin' for make de livin'. We gits 'long all right after awhile, and den I marries Ben Nillin . He dies 'bout fifteen year ago and now I lives with my son, Tom , and don' work 'cause I's too old. What I likes best, to be slave or free? Well, it's dis way. In slavery I owns nothin' and never owns nothin'. In freedom I's own de home and raise de family. All dat cause me worryment and in slavery I has no worryment, but I takes de freedom.

Margrett Nillin , 90, was born a slave to Mr. Charles Corneallus , who owned her mother, sister, and cousin along with a small farm near Palestine, Tex. Margrett has never seen or heard of her father who was sold before her birth. She had a kind master who gave her a good home and her only duty was attending to Mrs. Corneallus . After freedom, she and her mother moved to Chamber's Creek, Tex. She married Ben Nillin in 1882 and went to his home in Temple, Tex., where he worked as a teamster on a dray line. He died in 1922. They had five children, three of them are still living and she makes her home with one of them now at 1013 W. Peach St, Ft. Worth, Tex. A $15.00 pension recieved from the State of Texas monthly is her sole support. Her story:

Yas Sar! I's de ol' slave. Well, 'bout my age, I's am young woman w'en de Civil Wah stahted. I's am 90 fo' sho, an' m'ybe mo'. 'Bout de month ob my birth, I's don' know fo' sho, but I's bo'n in 1847. I's know dat. Weuns had no record, an' my 'ecollection on sich am not so good. My Marster's name, 'twas Charles Corneallus . Hims owned a small fahm neah Palestine, Texas. Him jus' had fouah slaves, my mammy, sistah, cousin an' me. I's tell yous 'bout de place. Dere was a cabin dat had de bunks fo' to sleep on, an' de fiah place to cook in. Dere was no windah in de cabin, jus' a hole wid a swingin' dooah. Ob co'se, dat lets de flies in durin' de summah, an' de col' in durin' de wintah. Dey could shut de dooah ob de windah but dat shut out de light an' makes it too hot in de summah. If yous let it open in de wintah, den it am too col'. De cullud fo'ks all lives in de cabin 'cept me. I's live in de house fo' to be handy to de Missy. De Marster am not de boss ob dis nigger. I's b'long to Missy Corneallus , an' she don' 'lows any udder person to boss me. My wo'k 'twas in de house, sich as sewin', knittin', an' 'tendin' to Missy. I's keeps de flies off her wid de fan. Dat keeps her cool, too, w'en it's wahm. I's do de fetchin' fo' her, sich as wautah, de snack fo' to eat, an' de laks. W'en she goes to fix fo' to go to sleep, I's comb her hair. W'en she lay down, I's rub her feet an' de toes. Sich wo'k, 'twarnt hahd an' I's lak de wo'k. I's lak de Missy an' she laks dis nigger. I's can't 'membah much ob de cross wo'ds she speaks to me. Our Marster takes weuns to chu'ch. Dere weuns larns 'bout de Bible an' w'at de Lawd says, w'at to does fo' to be saved, an' w'at 'twas to be good. All us cullud fo'ks j'ined de chu'ch, 'twas de Methodist. Whuppin', 'twarnt any on de Marster's place. Hims won't have de nigger dat he have to whups. De wo'st am de scoldin'. All us niggers behave an' does w'at de Marster tells, so 'twarnt any troublement. I's am de lucky nigger. 'Twarnt many dat have sich a good home. 'Twas lots dat gits 'bused powe'ful bad. Marster's neighbah was mean to his niggers. He whups an' 'buses dem awful. De devil sho have dat man now. Befo' de wah, I's heahs de w'ite fo'ks ta'kin' 'bout dis an' dat will cause de fight. Sometimes udder fo'ks comes to de Marster's house. I's heah de a'guments w'en deys don' 'gree an' git awful loud. Jus' a sho't time befo' de wah begin, I's heah de Marster an' some neighbah a ta'kin'. I's 'membahs dem tellin' 'bout some one fiahs on some fort. De Marster says, "Dere sho am gwine to be wah now." Sho 'nough, 'twarnt long 'til de mens am j'inin' de ahmy. De Marster did not go to de wah an' his boy was too young. De nex' weuns heahs, am deys am afightin', an' dat de Yankee gits licked, or weuns gits de wo'st ob de battle an' sich. Sich am de ta'k 'til aftah a w'ile, dey says dat de Yankeeman sho will win de wah. Den 'twarnt long 'til freedom come. I's never see any soldiers. Deys never come to de place, nor pass by. If deys did, I's never see dem. De wah makes no diffe'nce, on de Marster's place as I's 'membahs, 'cept 'twas times w'en weuns couldn't git jus' w'at weuns wants, but weuns had plenty fo' to eat an' weah, an' always kin' treatment.

Patter Rollers? Well, I's heah 'bout dem but weuns never see dem 'cause weuns never do anything fo' to git fustup wid sich. Deys aftah de fool nigger dat vi'lates de rules. Aftah de wah am over, mammy an' I's move to Chamber's Creek, 'cause de Marster says hims am gwine to quit de fahm an' dose dat wants to make a home, deys bes' looks fo' de chance. My sistah gits de job in Palestine an' cousin stays wid de Marster. Well, 'twarnt long aftah weuns have been at Chamber's Creek 'til mammy an' I's 'cides dat I's should larn to sew. My cousin am still at de Marster's place, so I's 'cides to go dere an' stay long 'nough fo' to larn f'om my cousin, fo' she am a good seamstress. I's back dere three weeks w'en de Marster stahts fixin' fo' to move way off. My mammy fetched me to de Marster's place an' I's don' know how to leave an' go back to my mammy. I's gittin' skeert an' skeerter ever' day 'til de mo'nin' deys ready fo' to staht. Deys fixed me a place to ride wid dem but by den, I's plum crazy wid worryment an' scarement. 'Twarnt 'cause I's don' lak de Marster, but I's don' want to leave my mammy. I's knows fo' sho dat I's can't see my mammy no mo'. Down de road some one am comin' an' w'en weuns look, I's says,  Dat looks lak my mammy.  Sho 'nough, 'twas my mammy an' am dis nigger glad? I's says I's was. How come 'twas my mammy come: 'Tis dis away. She tol' me dat de night befo', she am not able fo' to go to sleep 'cause something keeps tellin' her,  Go git yous chil's. De nex' mo'nin' she stahts early an' come on de mule back. My mammy gits de p'sentment lots ob times. Often in de mo'nin', she says to me, "Chil's, dere am gwine to be some one dies, I's see de angels las' night an' dat am de sho sign." Sho 'nough, 'twarnt long 'til weuns heah dat some one am dead. W'en she says, "Some one am gwine to be sick 'cause I's have de p'sentment,  it am not long 'til weuns heah dat some one am sick in de neighborhood. Some fo'ks says dat 'tis de haunts dat bring de p'sentment to my mammy. I's don' know 'bout dat, but she sho gits dem. Aftah freedom, weuns see de Klux. Deys come neah our place but 'twarnt weuns deys am aftah. Weuns don' do nothin' fo' to git fustup wid 'em neither. Deys am aftah Nigger Johnson dat lives 'cross de road f'om weuns' place. Dat Johnson nigger gits foolishment in his head. Him gits de big mouth an' says dat him have de right to do dis an' dat an' dat him have de right fo' to do lak de w'ite fo'ks. Say! An' dat fool nigger tries dat. Dat am w'at de Klux come to him fo'. Weuns watch dem at de Johnson house de night de Klux come. Deys come on hoss back an' drives up to his house an' says, "Come heah, Johnson ." Yous know, weuns am so neah dat weuns can heah w'ats bein' said. Well, dat nigger don' do dis an' dat lak him says, but him crawls undah de house. De Klux men says,  Come outer dere, nigger, befo' weuns bu'n de house down." Dat nigger mus' have come out right now 'cause 'twarnt long 'til weuns heah de licks an' den de bellow come f'om dat nigger. It sounds lak de bulls. One visit am 'nough to cure Johnson's big mouth. Aftah dat, I's meet him an' says,  Nigger, does yous still does dis an' dat?" Den he says,  Shut yous fool mouth befo' I's smack yous one.  Him don' want to ta'k 'bout de Klux. I's gits mai'ied 'bout 50 yeahs ago to Ben Nillin of Temple, Texas. Weuns had five chilluns, jus' three am livin' now.

My husban' wo'ked fo' Marster Keenan , drivin' de team on de dray line in Temple. Ben died 'bout 15 yeahs ago. My husban' suffered long time befo' him died wid de spells dat him have at times. Dem spells am de heaves dat him have. Some people call it de hasmatic (asthma). W'en he gits de spells, him can't git de air. Him sit in de chair an' pull an' pull fo' air 'til him looks lak him will bu'st. I's always gits skeert but him gits over dem, 'til de las' one. De doctah gives my husban' de snuffle powdah fo' de heaves. He puts a little ob de powdah on de saucah, touch de match to it an' it bu'ns. Dat makes big smoke an' him breathes de smoke but 'twarnt any good de las' time. Aftah Ben dies, I's come an' live wid my son, Tom , heah in Fort Worth. I's don' wo'k now 'cause I's too ol'. De state pays me $15.00 fo' de pension. Wid dat, I's gits food an' sich. De room don' cost me any thing.W'at I's lak bes', freedom or slavery? Well, 'tis dis away. In slavery I's owned nothin', an' never owed nothin', an' w'ite man, I's didn't know much. In freedom, I's own de home, owe de people an' raise de fam'ly. All dat cause me de worryment. In slavery, I's have no worryment, but I's takes de freedom.