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MARY ARMSTRONG, 91, lives at 3326 Pierce Ave., Houston, Texas. She was born on a farm near St. Louis,
Missouri, a slave of William Cleveland. Her father, Sam Adams, belonged to a "nigger trader," who had a farm
adjoining the Cleveland place.
"I's Aunt Mary, all right, but you all has to 'scuse me if I don't talk so good, 'cause I's been feelin' poorly for a spell
and I ain't so young no more. Law me, when I think back what I used to do, and now it's all I can do to hobble
'round a little. Why, Miss Olivia, my mistress, used to put a glass plumb full of water on my head and then have me
waltz 'round the room, and I'd dance so smoothlike. I don't spill nary drop.
"That was in St. Louis, where I's born. You see, my mamma belong to old William Cleveland and old Polly
Cleveland, and they was the meanest two white folks what ever lived, 'cause they was allus beatin' on their slaves. I
know, 'cause mamma told me, and I hears about it other places, and besides, old Polly, she was a Polly devil if there
ever was one, and she whipped my little sister what was only nine months old and jes' a baby to death. She come
and took the diaper offen my little sister and whipped till the blood jes' ran --- jes' 'cause she cry like all babies do,
and it kilt my sister. I never forgot that, but I got some even with that old Polly devil and it's this-a-way.
"You see, I's 'bout 10 year old and I belongs to Miss Olivia, that was that old Polly's daughter, and one day old Polly
devil comes to where Miss Olivia lives after she marries, and trys to give me a lick out in the yard, and I picks up a
rock 'bout as big as half your hat and hits her right in the eye and busted the eyeball, and tells her that's for whippin'
my baby sister to death. You could hear her holler for five miles, but Miss Olivia, when I tells her, says, 'Well, I
guess mamma has larnt her lesson at last.' But that old Polly was mean like her husban', old Cleveland, till she die,
and I hopes they are a burnin' in torment now.
"I don't 'member 'bout the start of things so much, 'cept what Miss Olivia and my mamma, her name was Siby, tells
me. Course, it's powerful cold in winter times and the farms was lots different from down here. They calls 'em
plantations down here but up at St. Louis they was jes' called farms, and that's what they was, 'cause we raises wheat
and barley and rye and oats and corn and fruit.
"The houses was builded with brick and heavy wood, too, 'cause it's cold up there, and we has to wear the warm
clothes and they's wove on the place, and we works at it in the evenin's.
"Old Cleveland takes a lot of his slaves what was in 'custom' and brings 'em to Texas to sell. You know, he wasn't
sposed to do that. because when you's in 'custom', that's 'cause he borrowed money on you, and you's not sposed to
leave the place till he paid up. Course, old Cleveland jes' tells the one he owed the money to, you had run off, or
squirmed out some way, he was that mean.
"Mamma say she was in one bunch and me in 'nother. Mamma had been put 'fore this with my papa. Sam Adams,
but that makes no diff'rence to Old Cleveland. He's so mean he never would sell the man and woman and chillen to
the same one. He'd sell the man here and the women there and if they's chillen, he'd sell then some place else. Oh,
old Satan in torment couldn't be no meaner than what he and Old Polly was to they slaves. He'd chain a nigger up to
whip 'em and rub salt and pepper on him, like he said, 'to season him up.' And when he'd sell a slave, he'd grease
their mouth all up to make it look like they'd been fed good and was strong and healthy.
"Well, mamma say they hadn't no more'n got to Shreveport 'fore some law man catch old Cleveland and takes 'em
all back to St. Louis. Then my little sister's born, the one old Polly devil kilt, and I's 'bout four year old then.
"Miss Olivia takes a likin' to me and, though her papa and mama so mean, she's kind to everyone, and they jes' love
her. She marries to Mr. Will Adams what was a fine man, and has 'bout five farms and 500 slaves, and he buys me
for her from old Cleveland and pays him $2,500.00, and gives him George Henry, a nigger, to boot. Lawsy, I's sho'
happy to be with Miss Olivia and away from old Cleveland and Old Polly, 'cause they kilt my little sister.
"We lives in St. Louis, on Chinquepin Hill, and I's housegirl, and when the babies starts to come I nusses 'em and
spins thread for clothes on the loom. I spins six cuts of thread a week, but I has plenty of time for myself and that's
where I larns to dance so good. Law, I sho' jes' crazy 'bout dancin'. If I's settin' eatin' my victuals and hears a fiddle
play. I gets up and dances.
"Mr. Will and Miss Olivia sho' is good to me, and I never-calls Mr. Will 'massa' neither, but when they's company I
calls him Mr. Will and 'round the house by ourselves I calls them 'pappy' and 'neary'. 'cause they raises me up from
the little girl. I hears old Cleveland done took my names to Texas 'gain but I couldn't do nothin'. 'cense Miss Olivia
wouldn't have much truck with her folks. Once in a while old Polly cases over, but Miss Olivia tells her not to touch
me or the others. Old Polly trys to buy me beck from Miss Olivia, and if they had they'd kilt me sho'. But Miss
Olivia say. 'I'd wade in blood as deep as Hell 'fore I'd let you have Mary.' That's jes' the very words she told 'em.
"Then I hears my papa is sold sons place I don't know where. 'Course, I didn't know him so well, jes' what mamma
done told me, so that didn't worry me like Mamma being took so far away.
"One day Mr. Will say. 'Mary, you want to go to the river and see the boat race?' Law me. I never won't forget that.
Where we live it ain't far to the Miss'sippi River and pretty soon here they comes, the Natches and the Eclipse, with
smoke and fire jes' pourin' out of they smokestacks. That old captain on the 'Clipse starts puttin' in bacon meat in the
boiler and the grease jes' comes out a -blaxin' and it beat the Natches to pieces.
"I stays with Miss Olivia till '63 when Mr. Will set us all free. I was 'bout 17 year old then or more. I way I goin'
find my means. Mr. Will fires me up two papers, one 'bout a yard long and the other some smaller, but both has big,
gold seals what he says is the seal of the State of Missouri. He gives me money and buys my fare ticket to Texas and
tells me they is still slave times down here and to put the papers in my bosom but to do whatever the white folks
tells me, even if they wants to sell me. But he say. 'Fore you gets off the block, jes' pull out the papers, but jes' hold
'em up to let folks see and don't let 'on out of your hands, and when they sees them they has to let you alone.'
"Miss Olivia cry and carry on and say be careful of myself 'cause it sho' rough in Texas. She give me a big basket
what had so much to eat in it I couldn't hardly heft it and 'nother with clothes in it. They puts me in the back end of
the boat where the big, old wheel what run the boat was and I goes to New Orleans, and the captain puts me on
'nother boat and I comes to Galveston, and that captain puts me on 'nother boat and I comes up this here Buffalo
Bayou to Houston.
"I looks 'round Houston, but not long. It sho' was a dumpy little place then and I gets the stagecoach to Austin. It
takes us two days to get there and I thinks my back busted sho' 'nough, it was sich rough ridin'. Then I has trouble
sho'. A man asks me where I goin' and says to come 'long and he takes me to a Mr. Charley Crosby. They takes me
to the block what they sells slaves on. I gets right up like they tells me, 'cause I 'lects what Mr. Will done told me to
do, and they starts biddin' on me. And when they cried off and this Mr. Crosby come up to get me. I jes' pulled out
my papers and helt 'on up high and when he sees 'em, he say. 'Let me see them.' But I says, 'You jes' look at it up
here.' and he squints up and say. 'This gal am free and has papers,' and tells me he a legislature man and takes me
and lets me stay with his slaves. He is a good man.
"He tells me there's a slave refugee camp in Wharton County but I didn't have no money left, but he pays me some
for workin' and when the war's over I starts to hunt mamma 'gain, and finds her in Wharton County near where
Wharton is. Law me, talk 'bout cryin' and singin' and cryin' some more, we sure done it. I stays with mamma till I
gets married in 1871 o John Armstrong,
and then we all comes to Houston.
"I gets me a job nusin' for Dr. Rellaford and was all through the yellow fever epidemic. I 'lects in '75 people die jes'
like sheep with the rots. I's seen folks with the fever jump from their bed with death on 'em and grab other folks.
The doctor saved lots of folks, white and black, 'cause he sweat it out of 'em. He mixed up hot water and vinegar
and mustard and some else in it.
"But, law me, so much is gone out of my mind, 'cause I's 91 year old now and my mind jes' like my legs, jes' kinda
hobble 'round a bit.
Armstrong, Mary -- Additional Interview
Mary Armstrong, 91 years old, who lives at 3326 Pierce Ave., Houston, was born on a farm near St. Louis, Mo. Her
mother, Siby Adams, belonged to Wm. Cleveland and his wife, Polly, while her father, Sam Adams, belonged to a
"nigger trader" that had a farm adjoining the Cleveland place.
"I'se Aunt Mary all right, but you all has to 'scuse me if I don't talk so good 'cause I has been feelin' po'ly for a spell
an' I ain't so young no more. Law me, when I think back what I used to do, an' now it's all I can do to hobble 'round
a little. Why Mis' Olivia, my mistress, used to put a glass plumb full of water on my head, an' then have me waltz
'round the room, an' I would dance so smooth like, I don't spill nary drop.
"That was in St. Louis whar I was born. You see when I was born, my mamma belong to old Wm. Cleveland an' old
Polly Cleveland, an' they was the meanest two white folks what ever lived, 'cause they was always beatin' on their
slaves. I know 'cause mamma told me, an' I hear about it other places, an' besides, old Polly-she was a Polly devil if
there ever was one-whipped my little sister what was only 9 months old an' jes' a little baby, to death. She came an'
took the diaper off my little sister an' whipped 'til the blood jes' ran jes' cause she cry like all babies do an' it killed
my sister. I never forgot that, but I got some even with that old Polly devil, 'cause when I was about 10
years old I belonged to Mis' Olivia, what was their daughter, an' one day old Polly devil come to where Mis' Olivia
lived after she got married, an' tried to give me a lick out in the yard, an' I picked up a rock 'bout as big as half your
fist an' hit her right in the eye an' busted the eyeball an' told her that was for whippin' my baby sister to death. You
could hear her holler for five miles, but Mis' Olivia when I told her, say, 'Well, I guess mamma has learnt her lesson
at last'. But she was mean like old Cleveland 'til she die, an' I hopes they is burnin' in torment now.
"I don't remember 'bout the start of things so much, 'cept what Mis' Olivia and my mamma, her name was Siby, tell
me. Close up there it was powerful cold in the winter times an' the farms was lots diffrunt from down here. They
call 'em plantations down here, but up at St. Louis they was jes' called farms. An' that's jes' what they was, cause we
raise wheat, barley, rye, oats, corn an' fruit. They wasn't no cotton growin' up there.
"An' the houses was built with brick an' heavy wood, too, 'cause like I say it was sure cold in the winter time. But
mamma say, that when I was little, old Cleveland took a lot of his slaves what was in 'custom', an' brought 'em to
Texas to sell. You know he warn't supposed to do that 'cause when you was in custom, that was 'cause he had
borrowed money on you, an' you was supposed to not leave the place 'til he paid up. 'Cose old Cleveland would jes'
tell the one he owed the money to that you had run off, or squirmed out in some way, he was that mean. I was jes' a
baby an' don't rec'lec it, but mamma say she was in one bunch an' he had me back in 'nother bunch.
"Mamma had been put together before this with my father, Sam Adams, what belonged to a nigger trader what had a
place next to old Cleveland. But that didn' make no difference to old Cleveland. He was so mean that he never
would sell the man an' woman an' chillen to the same one. He would sell the man here, an' the women there, an' if
they was chillen, he would sell them some place else. Oh, old Satan in torment wouldn' be no meaner than be and
Old Polly was to the slaves. Why, mamma has tole me that when he would chain up a nigger to whip him, he would
rub salt and pepper on him, like he said to 'season' him up. An' when he would sell a slave, he would grease their
mouth all up to make it look like they had been fed good an' was strong an' healthy.
"Well, mamma said they hadn't no more than got to Shreveport 'fore some law men cotch old Cleveland an' took
them all back to St. Louis.
"Then my little sister was born, the one old Polly devil killed, an' I was 'bout four year old then.
"Mis' Olivia had took a likin' to me an', 'though her ma an pa was so mean, she was kind to everyone, an' everyone
jes' love her. So she gets married to Mr. Will Adams what was a fine man an' had 'bout five farms an' 'bout 500
slaves, an' he bought me for her from old Cleveland an' pay him twenty five hundred dollars an' gives him George
Henry, a nigger to boot. Lawdy, I sure was happy to get with Mis' Olivia an' away from old Cleveland an' Old Polly
'cause they had killed my little sister.
"We don't live on the farm, but we live in St. Louis on Chinkapin Hill, an' I was house girl for Mis' Olivia, an' when
the babies start comin' I nursed 'em an' when they was asleep, I spin thread for clothes on a loom. I spin 6 cuts of
thread a week, but I has plenty of time for my self, too. That is whar I learn to dance so good. Law, I sure jes' crazy
'bout dancin'. If I settin' down eatin' my victuals an' hear a fiddle play, I get up an' dance.
"Yes suh, Mr. Will an' Mis' Olivia sure was good to me. An' I never call Mr. Will 'Massa' neither. No, suh, he
wouldn't let me 'cause he was a good man. When they was company I call him 'Mr. Will' an her, 'Mis Olivia', but
'round the house by ourselves, I calls them 'pappy' an' 'mammy', 'cause they raised me up from a little girl.
"Then I hear old Cleveland take my mamma to Texas again with some other slaves, but I couldn't do nothin' 'cause
Mis' Olivia wouldn' have much truck with her folks. Once in a while old Polly she come over, but Mis' Olivia tell
her not to touch me or the other servants, but one day like I told you she try to hit me, an' then is when I hit her in
the eye with a rock an' put it out.
"Old Cleveland an' his wife, Old Polly, tried to buy me from Mis' Olivia,-jes' pestered her lots to try an' get me, an'
if they had, they would killed me sure. But, Mis' Olivia said, 'I'd wade in blood as deep as Hell before I let you have
Mary.' Thats jes' the very words she told 'em.
"Then I hear my papa is sold some place I don't know where. 'Course I didn't know him so well, jes' what mamma
had tol' me, so that didn't worry me so much as did mamma bein' took so far away, an' I was scared I never would
see her no more. It jes' seem like Mr. Will an' Mis' Olivia try to make up to me for how bad my own folks has been
treated.
"I rec'lec's one day, pappy, that was Mr. Will, say to me, 'Mary, you want to go to the river an' see the boat race
today?" Law me, I never won't forget that. Whar we live on Chinkapin Hill, t'warn't far to the Mississippi River, an'
I goes there an' pretty soon here they comes, the Natchez an' the 'Clipse, (Eclipse) with the smoke an' fire jes' pourin'
out of the smokestacks. I runs 'long tryin' to keep up for a while, but that old Capt'in on the 'Clipse starts puttin' in
bacon meat in the boiler to make it go faster an' the grease jes' come out of the smokestack a-blazin' an' it beat the
Natchez to pieces. Law me, it sure was excitin' though.
"I stayed with Mis' Olivia 'til in '63 when Mr. Will set all his slaves free. He said we had a right to freedom an' read
a proclamation. I was a big girl then, bout 17 years old an' they said I was mighty good lookin'. Mis' Olivia she ask
me what I want to do an' I tell her I want to find my mamma. Mis' Olivia talk to Mr. Will an' he fixes me up two
papers, one 'bout a yard long an' the other some smaller but both has writin' on what I don't know about an' big gold
seals what he says is the seal of the State of Missouri. An' he gives me money an' buys my fare ticket to Texas. He
tells me they is still slave times down here an' to put the papers in my bosom, but to do whatever the white folks tell
me to, even if they want to take an' sell me, but he says 'before you get off from the block, jes' pull out the papers,
but jes' hold 'em up to let folks see 'em an' not let 'em get out of your hands, an' when they see them they has to let
you alone'.
"Then Mis' Olivia cry an' carry on like everythin' an' say to be careful of myself 'cause it sure is rough in Texas, an'
if I don' find my mamma to come back. She gives me a big basket what had so much to eat in it, I couldn't hardly
heft it an' another one what had clothes in it, an' it took two big husky colored men what was still with Mr. Will to
carry it to the boat.
"They put me in the back end whar the big old wheel what run the boat was an' I was all by myself, 'cause Mr. Will
tell the Capt'in I is free an' has papers. I goes all the way to New Orleans, an' the Capt'in puts me on 'nother boat an'
I comes to Galveston, an' the Capt'in of this boat puts me on 'nother boat an' I comes up this here Buffalo Bayou to
Houston, an' nobody bothers me 'tall 'cause de Capt'ins all tell folks I has papers an' has had the fare all the way
paid.
"I looks 'round Houston, but not long. It sure was a dumpy little place then, an' I gets the stage coach to go to
Austin. It looked like a bus you see now-a-days but it had big wheels an' had six horses pullin' it. They puts me in
the back of that, too, an' it takes us two days to get to Austin. Law me, when we get there I think my back busted
sure 'nuff, it was sech rough ridin'.
"Then I has trouble sure. The man what drives the stage coach from Gonzales to Austin ain' been told I is free an'
has papers, an' when we gets to Austin, he talks to some man, an' this man come to whar I is at an' say 'who you
belong to?' I tells him nobody now, I has been freed an' am lookin' for my mamma.
"Then I sure 'nuff got scared. He says to come 'long an' he takes me up a street an' calls to a man what I find out
later is named Mr. Crosby, Mr. Charley Crosby. They talks, an' then this man what brung me from the stage coach,
calls some more men an' they takes me to a block what they sells slaves on. I gets right up like they tells me, 'cause I
rec'lec's what Mr. Will had tol' me to do, an' they starts lookin' me over an' biddin' on me. An' when they cried off
an' this Mr. Crosby come up to get me, I jes' pulled out my papers an' held 'em up high like this, an' when he sees
the gold seals, he says 'lemme' see it,' but I says 'you jes'
look at it up here' an' wouldn't let the papers outen my hand. Mr. Crosby he squints up an' say 'why sure 'nuf this gal
is free an' has papers,' then he asks me lots of questions an' tells me he is a Legislature man, an' he sure was good to
me 'cause he takes me to where they is livin' an' lets me stay in some quarters with his slaves. I guess he is sure good
to 'em 'cause they all love him.
"Oh, Law me, so many things has gone clean outen my rec'lecshun 'cause its been so long gone by.
"But Mr. Crosby he say to me in a few days that they is a slave refugee camp of slaves an' some of 'em has been
brought down from Missouri. He say this camp is over on Pedernales River near some place call Shoveltop
Mountain. I don't know whar that is from Austin, but it 'pears to me now it was over that way (west). But they wasn'
no way I could get there an' pretty soon I hear they has moved this refugee camp to some place else in Wharton
County. Mr. Crosby tells me how I can get there, but I didn' have no money much left. But he let me work in the
house for my livin' an' paid me a little besides an' when the war was over, I started out an' looked for mamma again,
an' found her like they said in Wharton County near where Wharton is. Law me, talk 'bout cryin' an' singin' an'
cryin' some more, we sure done it. I stayed with mamma an' we worked right there 'til I gets married in 1871 to John
Armstrong an' then we all comes to Houston.
"I gets me a job nursin' for Dr. Rellaford an' was all through the yellow fever epidemic, I rec'lec's 'twas in '75, an'
people die jes' like sheep with the rots. I has seen folks what had the fever jump from their bed with death on 'em an'
grab other folks. But the doctor saved lots of folks, white an' black, 'cause he used to sweat it out of 'em. I don'
rec'lec' all he used but some of the stuff he mixed up had hot water, vinegar an' mustard an' some else in it.
"But Law me, so much has gone out of my mind 'cause I'se 91 years old now an' my mind jes' like my legs,-jes'
kinda hobble 'round a bit.
"Yes, I knows some of the songs, too, what I used to dance to, but I is in the Church now, an' the Lord don' like no
dance tunes so I jes' forgets 'em cause He wants me to. An' the Lord learnt me how to read the Bible, but I can't read
a newspaper. I can tell the letters but can't pronounce the words.
"Here's that watermelon man 'round here agin', an' this old nigger ain't got but a nickle an' he ain't got none lessen
15 cents. Thanks sir. Hey, come up here you watermelon man!"
Hatcher, Letha K., P.W. Jasper, Jasper, Dist. #3 (June 2, 1937 (No))
