W'en I got sick, de w'ite folks looked atter me. I took my bed an' quilts, an' clothes an' all an' went to de w'ite folks house. Dey gibed me calomel an' quinine, an' rubbed me wid turpentine. I don't know 'bout de odders. Yo' see, I was a 'portant slave, I was de chillun's nuss. De Boss, Marse Bannister Edens he nebber 'low he chillun ter cuff an' knock de niggers eroun' an' atter he git us ter Texas, he nebber had no ober seer nor driver. Dar was no cherch fer de slaves. Us went to de w'ite folks cherch sometimes. I went inside kase I was de nuss, de odder slaves dey sot outside under a brush arbor an' sot clost up to de windows so dey could hear. Dey preached to de slaves in de atternoon. Mos' ob de time, ebery boddy bring dey dinner an' come ter de meetin' an' stay till late in de atternoon, jes' 'bout milkin' an' feedin' time. De w'ite folks, dey chat wid each odder an' hab a visit atter dinner, an' de preacher he talk to de slaves. Meny ob de w'ite an' de cullud 'ud git happy an' shout w'ile he preach. Marse Ben Parker was one ob de preachers dat I 'members. De w'ites didn't 'low us slaves ter read de Bible, nor ter git togedder at night times an' hab prayer meetin'. I'ze seed Marse Parker baptize my Aunt Charlotte , Aunt Melia and Aunt Chloe . Den de nex' time dey come back ter cherch, Marse Ben Parker , he tell 'em dey mus' jine de Meferdis' cherch, dat was fer de niggers an' de Baptist cherch, hit was fer de w'ite folks. Marse Parker, he said dat God nebber did intend fer niggers ter be free, an' Marse Ben said dat God drilled de soljers an' he gwine do de same. So here he go, Forward march! halt! fire! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Kose, I 'members my w'ite folks' names. Dey was Banister Edens , he was de ole Boss; Mis' Catherine Edens , she de ole Mis' and Marse Banister's wife. Dey tooked us to Santone w'en dey bringed us f'om Louisana. Down in Santone, Mis' Catherine , she died. Dar was two sons by Mis Catherine . Dey was Hugh , he de olest, an' Napoleon Edens . Dar was fo' gals. Dey was Mis' Jane , Mis' Mary , Mis' Lucindy , Mis' Marguriette . Atter a-while, Marse Banister marry a widdy woman name Betsy Grigsby an' dey had three chillun. Dese was John , Elmira an' Stella . Mis' Stella she de baby, an' she marry a Mr. Hall an' today dey lib in Santone. Two years ago, Mis Stella come back ter Elkhart on a visit an' some bizness, an' she hunt me up an' she want ter take me to Santone wid her.

Ole Marse Banister libed in a fo' room log house, hewed by hand an' ceiled wid slabs. Dar was a big hall. Dey had jes' lak all de quality folks ob dem times had ez to fernichure, kerridges an' sech. Dey was mong de top folks in dem days. I don' jes' know how meny acres he did own but he had two an' mebby three big plantations an' plenty ob slaves to do ebery thing on 'em. In dem times us raised mos' all dat us eat an' made all us close an' shoes an' mos' ob de fernichure an' tools dat dey wukked wid. Marse had plenty ob cattle to fernish all de milk, cheese an' butter dat us all need an' he raised feed fer all de stock an' fer us, 'sides fruit, 'taters, peanuts an' de like. Ole Miss could spin cloth so fine lak de silk an' den, dey buyed all dere bes' clothes jes' lak de odder big folkses. Atter dey git better suited fer hit, Marse raised a lot ob cotton. I picked cotton only one year befo' de freedom come. One day, I hears Marse Eden a tellin' he wife dat he guess he 'ud hab to read dem "free papers" to de niggers in de mo'nin'. I slipped out jes' lak a mouse, an' hunt my Mammy an' whisper an' tell what I done heard. But I knowed better dan ter tell eny one 'cept her. W'en Marse come down to our cabin, he was er cryin'. Atter he read dat paper my Mammy clapped her hands an' shouted fer a long time. Me an' de odder young nigger jes' went wild. I jumped de fences lak a wild buck, me an' George Herod . Den w'en us ca'am down, de next' day er so, ole Mars' tole Mammy dat he wanted us to help him gather de crops an' he would gib her a load ob corn, two meat hogs, one wagon ob potatoes an' a keg ob 'lasses. So, us stayed an' wukked fer Marse seberal years. Ole Mis' gibed us all us needed fer de house an' plenty ob clothes an' beddin'. Marse gibe all de oldes' slaves things to start to makin' dere libin' wid. All de ole folks, de slave ones dat he had, said dat he was sho' a good Marster. Atter de Freedom War, I wukked in de field, burnt brush, plowed hoed an' ebery thing else. W'en us lef' de ole Mars, us 'ud go see dem ebery chanst us got an' he allers ask, 'Chillun do you all git a plenty to eat?' An' den us could say 'Yes sir.' But not fer de las' three or four years, effen he was alibe to ask.  My first husband was Rube Davis . W'en he died, I married Turner Wilson , by him I had two chillun. Dey was a boy an' a girl. I had three gran' chillun. I haben't seen my son for two years an' I don' know what he is doin'. I don't go eny whar very far. I'ze only bin to town once in ober a year. 'Cordin' to my w'ite folks' record, I was born in 1850. All ob us has aller done hard labor ter make a livin'. I'ze larned to read de Bible an' my chillun larned to read an' write, but our w'ite folks didn't believe in niggers larnin' enything; dey thought hit would make de niggers harder to keep slaves an' ter make dem wukk. All de slaves dat I knowed couldn't read nor write. Dar wuzn't none ob de Eden slaves dat runned away, but de neighbor slaves did.

State: Texas    Interviewee: Wilson, Sarah
Righ atter de Freedom War us was share croppers. Now I'ze gwine ter try to tell you how us did in share croppin'. 'Long 'tween November and Feb'ruary, de negro man go ter de planter dat he want ter wukk fer an he mos' en jeneral find de w'ite man at de plantation sto'e. W'ite man gwine ask de nigger whar he been livin' 'fo'e, an' how meny chillun he got, an' effen he hab eny mules er eny plows, hoes an' things ter wukk de place wid. Mos' en jene'l, de nigger he jes' hab er few close, some beddin', some fernichure, a dog ter cotch de rabbit wid, an' yassum, he gwine 'long ter some lodge, kase he gotta hab er berrial fund. Though dem sassieties wuzn't frequent right atter freedom, but dey er kinda new fangled idee, but sho' am pop'lr. De w'te man he gotta gib de nigger a cabin ter lib in, an' see dat he hab groceries, an' some close an' a doctor an' medecine f'om de time he starts wukk fer de w'ite man till de cotton git picked, 'long in August an' dey starts sellin' cotton. De nigger he don't pay no rent on de cabin lak dese town niggers has ter, an' de w'ite man gotta see dat dar is a well ob water on de place an' a place fer de nigger ter water he stock, an' a place whar de nigger can cut him some wood ter cook wid an' ter keep warm by. Dey don't charge de nigger fer de wood an' water. Dar is a patch fer de garden furnished too, an' de seed ter plant de crop wid, an' mos' en jen'rl, de mules an' tools ter wukk de land an' de land.

De w'ite man say he gwine see dat de sharecropper git somefin' ter eat an' some close ter wear up to a 'specified 'mount. An' de cropper he promise ter wukk de land lak de w'ite man want hit done, an' w'en de crop an gadered, de share-cropper he gotta pay half ob de corn and de cotton dat he make on de land as rent; an' he gotta pay fer all de groceries, close an' medecine an' doctor bills dat he had w'ile he makin' de crop. No ma'am, de w'ite man he don't gib de nigger no sho' nuff money, he jes' gib him a doodlum book an' in dis here book dar's little pieces all printed an' fixed up, an' de share-cropper de trades dese here little scraps ob paper down at de plantation sto' fer what he gwine git. But he can't go no whar else ter trade, only jes' on de plantation whar he makin' de crop. Dat er way de nigger man he can't go git drunk an' sech but de ole woman an' de kids dey git somefin' dey needs. I lak dat. Cose dat was some ob de stores on some ob de big plantations, whar dey did had de whiskey. Yassum, effen de cropper dug some ditches in de land whar de w'ite man tell him, er patch de fence, er clear land, den de w'ite man he gwine pay de cropper extra fer dat. How many hours did dey wukk? Oh, jes' from can to can't. Dat was w'en de crop was growin' an' had ter be chopped an' plowed an' den w'en dey was er gatherin' de crops. But den de cropper had him a house ter lib in an' he knowed dat he could git somefin' ter eat fer he fambly down at de plantation sto', an' he knowed dat fer de whole year an' dat was er lot better dan dese town niggers got now.

Lawse, yassum, I 'members dem Chrismusses durin' slavery an' since. Dey was big time whar I was raised. Cose us aller made de Christmas gifts. Dey was holders fer de hot pans an' dishes, all fancied up wid stitches; dish towels, an' aprons, pincushions, all 'broidered an' fixed up. De boys allers liked to make de walking sticks fer de ole men an' wimmin, both black an' w'ite. Effen dey could find a little tree, ob a hard kind ob wood, wid de root ob de main stem makin' a curve dat 'ud make a handle, den dey 'ud cut dis down, an' peel hit, an' let hit get real dry, an' den dey 'ud polish hit wid dere hands till hit was all shiny, an' dar was a walkin' stick dat was fine. Dey fixed ole Marse Bannister Edens one an' he was sho' proud ob hit. He uset till he died an' he wife, done kept till she died. De wimmin folks an' de gals, de w'ite an' de cullud, dey 'ud knit socks, scarfs, wristers, an' stockin's. An' den dey 'ud knit er kroshay pillow covers an' trimmin' fer de Un'ner close an' gib dem on Christmas. Us nebber had no purty shiny ribbons ter tie de things up wid, but us'd take de croshay needle an make what dey call de chain stitch, er great long string ob em outta all kinds er colors an' us uset dem ter tie de Christmas things wid. Den us'd braid er knit some strings ter tie wid. An' den de cookies us'd slip eroun' an' bake. Dey was star lak, an' lak er doll, an' us'd fros' 'em wid red er w'ite icin'; an' den dar was de spice cakes, kivvered wid de w'ite frosen' an' some red candy an' some green leaves ter make dem purty. Dar 'ud be er lot ob whisperin' an' titterin' an' de cook 'ud git all fussed up, but lawsey, Mis' Catherine , she jes' tell her ter leabe 'em erlone. Den cook, hersef' 'ud slip eroun' an' bake ginger bread men an' wimmin, an' put de kerrents er raisin' in fer de eyes, an' dem was fer de babies, bof' w'ite an' black. Us 'ud git our tree fer Christmas outta de woods an' drag hit ter de house. Dar was allers a big tree at de ole Marster's house an' den he 'lowed eny ob de slaves dat wanted one ter fix hit up. Us allers raise plenty ob popcorn an' de slaves had er patch fer dere own. At Christmas, us'd pop dis corn an' make long strings ob hit ter put on de tree. De chillun allers clean hit up atter de tree was ober. Den dar was de popcorn balls dat us 'ud make wid de sirrup dat was made from de sugar cane dat was raised on de place. In de big house us allers hung our stockins up. An' sech er scramblin' ez dar was ter slip in some ob de grown folks' stockins. En' at our big house dar was allers a stockin' hung up fer de pets. Mis' Kitty Kat she got some fresh catnip f'om ole Mis' garden an' dem was put in de kitty's stockin'. De littles' chillun dey git er lot ob fun seein' de cat git hern outta dat stockin'. An' dar was Shep, he git er big bone an' a ball outta his. Us chillun allers knowed to git er stockin' dat noboddy want ter fix fer Shep case dar ar dog he gwine tear dat stockin' ter rabberlins sho' ez de world. De ball was cut out ob wood jes' like de balls dat de boys made fer dem selves ter play wid, an' us allers slip hit way down in de toe ob de stockin'. All ober de place dat dog an' de chilluns 'ud romp, wid Shep er trying' ter git what was in de toe. Ole Marse he got a chinny doll fer he girls an' us grown folks ob de cullud ones had er lot ob fun makin' de cloth an' helpin' ter make hits close. Effen de roads was bad, er de weader, ole Marse he didn't git inter Santone ter git de Chrismus fer de place. Den dar was er lot ob de nights spent er washin', ironin' an' makin' ober ob close fer big an' little an' de dolls git in de bunch too. But come Chrismas mornin' an' de tree, de presents fer ebery one, de big dinner an' all was allers ready but save my life I dozen't see now how ole Miss' she git hit all managed. De slaves had dere dinners in de cabins an' de 'possums an' taters had a hard time 'bout den, an' de chickens. But de w'ite folks dey gotta had ham, an' turkey, an' sometimes venizen effen de men folks can kill one. Dem was good ole days. A pusson could git er mess of good meat an' not hab to pay all dey made in a week fer hit. Ob course us raised mos' ob what us it, an' den too, de w'ite folks was de ones to worry 'bout gittin' hit.