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ANNA MILLER, 85, lives with her daughter, Lucy Watkins, at 407 W. Bluff St., Ft. Worth, Texas. She was born a
slave in Kentucky, and was sold, with her parents, to Mark Loyed, a farmer in Missouri. He later sold Anna's
mother, before Anna was old enough to remember her. When Anna was 8, her owner moved to Palo Pinto, Texas.
"I'se now 'bout 85 years ole, dats what de white folks tells me. I'se bo'n in Kentuck'. My mammy, pappy and I'se
sold by our fust marster to Marster Mark Loyed, who lived in Missouri. He takes us to him's farm. When I'se 'bout
eight years ole, Marster Loyed sold him's farm and comes to Texas in covered wagons and oxen. He's brung all de
slaves wid him. I'se don' 'member much 'bout de trip cause I'se sick wid de fever. I'se so bad, de marster thinks I'se
goin' to die. One mornin' he comes and looks at me and says. 'Dis nigger am too val'able to die. We'd better doctor
her.' We camps for six days.
"We comes to Palo Pinto and dat's wild country den. Plenty of Indians, but dey never trouble we'uns. My work,
'twas helpin' wid de chores and pick up de brush whar my pappy was a-clearin' de land. When I gits bigger, I'se
plowed, hoed, and done all de goin' to de mill. I'se helps card, spins and cuts de thread. We'uns makes all de cloth
for to makes de clothes, but we don' git 'em. In de winter we mos' freeze to death. De weavin' was de right work,
after workin' all de day in de fiel'.
"Dey sho whups us. I'se gits whupped lots a times. Marster whips de men and missus whups women. Sometimes she
whups wid de nettleweed. When she uses dat, de licks ain't so bad, but de stingin' and de burnin' after an sho'
misery. Dat jus' plum runs me crazy. De mens use de rope when dey whups.
"Bout eatin'. we keeps full on what we gits, such as beans, co'nmeal and 'lasses. We seldom gits meat. White flour.
we don' know what dat taste like. Jus' know what it looks like. We gits 'bout all de milk we wants, 'cause dey puts it
in de trough and we helps ourselves. Dere was a trough for de niggers and one for de hawgs.
"Jus' 'bout a month befo' freedom, my sis and nigger Horace runs off. Dey don' go far, and stays in de dugout. Ev'ry
night dey'd sneak in and git 'lasses and milk and what food dey could. My sis had a baby and she nuss it ev'ry night
when she comes. Dey runs off to keep from gettin' a whuppin'. De marster was mad 'cause dey lets a mule cut
himself wid de plow. Sis says de bee stung de mule and he gits unruly and tangle in de plow. Marster says, 'Dey can'
go far and will come back when dey gits hongry.'
"I'se don' know much 'bout de war. De white folks don' talk to us 'bout de war and we'uns don' go to preachin' or
nothin', so we can't larn much. When freedom comes, marster says to us niggers, 'All dat wants to go, git now. You
has nothin'.' And he turns dem away, nothin' on 'cept ole rags. 'Twarn't enough to cover dere body. No hat, no shoes,
no unnerwear.
"My pappy and nos' de niggers goes, but I'se have to stay till my pappy finds a place for me. He tells me dat he'll
come for me. I'se have to wait over two years. De marster gets worser in de disposition and goes 'roun' sort of talkin'
to hisse'f and den he gits to cussin' ev'rybody.
"In 'bout a year after freedom, Marster Loyed moves from Palo Pinto to Fort Worth. He says he don' want to live in
a country whar de niggers am free. He kills hisse'f 'bout a year after dey moves. After dat. I'se sho' glad when pappy
comes for me. He had settled at Azle on a rented farm and I'se lives wid him for 'bout ten years. Den I'se goes and
stays wid my brudder on Ash Creek. De three of us rents land and us runs dat farm.
"I'se git married 'bout four years after I'se goes to Ash Creek, to Bell Johnson. We had four chillen. He works for
white folks. 'Bout nine years after we married my husban' gits drowned and den I works for white folks and cares
for my chillen for fo'teen years. Then I'se gits married again. I'se married Fred Miller, a cook, and we lived in Fort
Worth. In 1915 he goes 'way to cook for de road 'struction camp and dats de las' I's hears of dat no 'count nigger!
"Lots of difference when freedom comes. Mos' de time after, I'se have what I wants to eat. Sometime 'twas a little
hard to git, but we gits on. I'se goes to preachin' and has music and visit wid de folks I'se like. But Marster Loyed
makes us work from daylight to dark in de fiel's and make cloth at night.
Miller, Anna -- Additional Interview
CHARLEY MITCHELL, farmer in Panola Co., Texas, was born in 1852, a slave of Nat Terry, an itinerant Baptist
preacher of Lunchburg, Virginia. Charley left the Terrys one year after he was freed. He worked in a tobacco
factory, then as a waiter, until 1887, when he moved to Panola Co. For fifty years he has farmed in the Sabine River
bottom, about twenty-five miles southeast of Marshall, Texas.
"I's born in Virginia, over in Lynchburg, and it was in 1852, and I 'longed to Parson Terry and Missy Julia. I don't
'member my pappy, 'cause he's sold when I's a baby, but my mammy was willed to the Terrys and allus lived with
them till freedom. She worked for them and they hired her out there in town for cook and house servant.
"They hired me out most times as nuss for white folks chillen, and I nussed Tom Thurman's chillen. He run the
bakery there in Lunchburg and come from the north, and when war broke they made him and 'nother northerner take
a iron clad oath they wouldn't help the north. Durin' the war I worked in Masse Thurman's bakery, helping make
hard tack and doughnuts for the 'federate sojers. He give me plenty to eat and wear and treated me as well as I could
hope for.
"Course, I didn't git no schoolin'. The white folks allus said niggers don't need no larnin'. Some niggers larnt to
write their initials on the barn door with charcoal, then they try to find out who done that, the white folks, I mean,
and say they cut his fingers off iffen they jus' find out who done it.
"Lynchburg was good sized when war come on and Woodruff's nigger tradin' yard was 'bout the bigges' thing there.
It was all fenced in and had a big stand in middle of where they sold the slaves. They got a big price for 'em and
handcuffed and chained 'em together and led 'em off like convicts. That yard was full of Louisiana and Texas slave
buyers mos' all the time. None of the niggers wanted to be sold to Louisiana, 'cause that's where they beat 'em till the
hide was raw, and salted 'em and beat 'em some more.
"Course us slaves of white folks what lived in town wasn't treated like they was on most plantations. Massa Nat and
Missy Julia was good to us and most the folks we was hired out to was good to us. Lynchburg was full of
pattyrollers jus' like the country. though, and they had a fenced in whippin' post there in town and the pattyrollers
sho' put it on a nigger iffen they cotch him without a pass.
"After war broke Lee, you know General Lee himself, come to Lynchburg and had a campground there and it look
like 'nother town. The 'federates had a scrimmage with the Yankees 'bout two miles out from Lynchburg, and after
surrender General Wilcox and a big company of Yankees come there. De camp was clost to a big college there in
Lynchburg and they throwed up a big breastworks out the other side the college. I never seed it till after surrender,
'cause us wasn't 'lowed to go out there. Gen. Shumaker was commander of the 'Federate artillery and kilt the first
Yankee that come to Lynchburg. They drilled the college boys, too, there in town. I didn't know till after surrender
what they drilled them for, 'cause the white folks didn't talk the war 'mongst us.
"Bout a year after the Yankees come to Lynchburg they moved the cullud free school out to Lee's Camp and met in
one of the barracks and had four white teachers from the north, and that school run sev'ral years after surrender.
"Lots of 'Federate sojers passed through Lynchburg goin' to Petersburg. Once some Yankee sojers come through
clost by and there was a scrimmage 'tween the two armies, but it didn't last long. Gen. Wilcox had a standin' army in
Lynchburg after the war, when the Yankees took things over, but everything was peaceful and quiet then.
"After surrender a man calls a meetin' of all the slaves in the fairgrounds and tells us we's free. We wasn't promised
anything. We jus' had to do the best we could. But I heared loss of slaves what lived on farms say they's promised
forty acres and a mule but they never did git it. We had to go to work for whatever they'd pay us, and we didn't have
nothing and no place to go when we was turned loose, but down the street and road, When I left the Terry's I
worked in a tobacco factory for a dollar a week and that was big money to me. Mammy worked too and we
managed somehow to live.
"After I married I started farmin', but since I got too old I live round with my chillen. I has two sons and a boy what
I raised. One boy lives clost to Jacksonville and the other in the Sabine bottom and the boy what I raised lives at
Henderson. I been gittin' $10.00 pension since January this year. (1937)
"I never fool round with politics much. I's voted a few times, but most the time I don't. I leaves that for folks what
knows politics. I says this, the young niggers ain't bein' raised like we was. Most of them don't have no manners or
no moral self-respect.
"I don't 'lieve much in hants but I's heared my wife call my name. She's been dead four years. If you crave to see
your dead folks, you'll never see them, but if you don't think 'bout them they'll come back sometime.
"Two nigger women died in this house and both of them allus smoked a pipe. My boy and me used to smell the
pipes at night, since they died, and one morning I seed one of them. I jus' happened to look out the window and saw
one of them goin' to the cowpen. I knowed her by her bonnet.
"They's a nigger church and cemetery up the road away from my house mere the dead folks come out by twos at
night and go in the church and hold service. Me and the preacher what preaches there done seed and heared them.
"They's a way of keepin' off hants. That's done by tackin' an old shoe by the side the door, or a horseshoe over the
door, or pullin' off part of the planks of your house and puttin' on some new boards."
Miller, Anna -- Additional Interview
Anna Miller, 85, now living with her daughter, Lucy Watkins, at 407 W. Bluff St., Fort Worth, Texas was born a
slave in Kentucky. While still a babe, she and her parents were sold to Mr. Mark Loyed, who farmed in Missouri.
He later sold Anna's mother before she was old enough to remember her. Mr. Loyed moved to Palo Pinto, Texas,
when she was about eight years old. Married twice, she had four children by her first husband, Bell Johnson, who
drowned nine years after their marriage. Fourteen years after his death, she married Fred Miller. No children were
born to this union, and he deserted her in 1915. Her story:
"Ise now 'bout 85 yeahs ol', dats w'at de w'ite fo'ks tells me. Ise bo'n in Kentuck'. My mammy, pappy, an' Ise sol' by
our fust Marster to Marster Mark Loyed who lived in Missouri. He takes we uns to hims fahm. He den sol' my
mammy befo' Ise ol' nuff to 'membah her, so Ise can't tells yo' 'bout my mammy 'cept w'at udder fo'ks tells me.
"W'en Ise 'bout eight yeahs ol', Marster Loyed sold hims fahm an' comes to Texas in cove'd waggins and oxen. He's
brung all de slaves wid him, 'twas my sistahs, pappy, brudder an' two udder niggers. He settles in Palo Pinto
County.
"Ise don' 'membah much 'bout de trip, 'cause Ise sick wid de fevers. Aftah we are on de road 'bout one week, Ise gits
so bad,
de Marster thinks Ise gwine to die. One mo'nin' he comes an' looks at me an' sez, "Dis nigger am too valu'ble to lets
die. We had better camp fo' a few days an' doctah her." We camps fo' six days. Den one mo'nin', he comes an' looks
at me an' sez, "Dis damn nigger aint goin' to die. Hitch up, an' lets git goin'." W'en we git to Palo Pinto, Ise 'bout
well. Soon's we gits dere, de ol' niggers stahts clearin' de lan' an' puts up houses an' sheds. 'Till dey was done, de
Marster sleeps in de wagin an' we niggers sleeps whar we can fine de place. Dats wild country den. Plenty ob
Indians, but dey neber trouble we uns. Ise not skeert ob dem 'cause Ise not ol' nuff to 'elize de danger.
"My wo'k, 'twas he'pin' do de cho'es an' he'pin' picks up de brush whar my pappy was a clearin' de lan'. De worst
wo'k was packin' watah 'bout four blocks f'om de spring. We puts de watah in tubs. Dey am so heavy, one he'ps de
udder put de tub on dere head, an' dat away we totes dem. W'en Ise gits bigger, Ise plowed, hoed, an' Ise done all de
goin' to de mill. Ise also he'ps card, spins an' cuts de thread. We uns makes all de cloth fo' to makes de clothes dem
days. My sis was de clothes maker. We makes de clothes, but we don' git dem. In de winter, we 'mos' freeze to
death. De cardin', spinnin', an cuttin' of de thread was de night wo'k, aftah wo'kin' all de day in de field.
"Dey sho whups us. Ise gits whupped lots ob times. De Marster's wife whups de Wimins an' hims whups de mens.
De mos'
ob de whuppin' was fo' de failure to does all de wo'k dey wants. Ise sometimes goes to sleep befo' Ise gits my night
wo'k done. As sho as I does dat, Ise gits a whuppin'. Some times she whups wid de nettle weed. When she uses dat,
de licks aint so bad, but de stingin' an' de burnin' aftah am sho misery. Dat jus' plum runs me crazy. De mens use de
rope w'en dey whups.
"'Bout eatin', we keeps full on w'at we gits, sich as beans, co'n meal, an' 'lasses. We seldom gits meat. W'ite flouah,
we don' know w'at dat taste lak. Jus' know w'at it looks lak. We gits 'bout all de milk we wants, 'cause dey puts it in
de trough an' we he'ps ourse'fs. Dere was a trough fo' de niggers an' one fo' de hawgs.
"Jus' 'bout a month befo' freedom, my sis an' nigger Horace runs off. Dey don' go far, an' stays in de dugout. Eber
night dey would sneak in an' git 'lasses, milk, an' w'at food dey could. My sis had a baby, an' she nuss it eber night
w'en she comes. Dey runs off to keep f'om gittin' a whuppin'. De Marster was mad 'cause dey lets a mule cut hisse'f
wid de plow. Sis sez dat de bee stung de mule, an' he gets unruly an' tangle in de plow. 'Twarnt deys fault. Marster
Matty Loyed, dats de ol' Marster's boy, would not allow fo' to hunt fo' dem two niggers. Hims sez, "Dey can't go far
an' will come back w'en dey git hongry."
"Martin Loyed, de Marster's udder boy goes to de wah. He comes back sort of peaked, but he aint hurt. Ise don'
know much 'bout de wah. De w'ite fo'ks don' ta'k to us 'bout de wah an' we uns don' go to preachin' or nothin', so
we can't larn much. Ise of'en heahs de Marster cuss 'cause his boy had to fight fo' to keeps hims slaves.
"W'en freedom comes, Marster sez to us niggers, "All dat wants to go, git now. You have nothin'" An' he turns dem
away, nothin' on 'cept ol' rags. 'Twarnt nuff to cover dere body. No hat, no shoes, nor underwear. He don' let dem
take a stitch ob clothes wid dem. My pappy an' mos' ob de niggers goes, but Ise have to stay 'til my pappy finds a
place fo' me. He tells me dat he will come fo' me soon's he gits a place fo' me. Ise have to wait ober two yeahs. De
Marster gits worser in de disposition an' he goes 'roun' sort ob ta'kin' to hisse'f an' den he gits cussin' eberbody.
"In 'bout a yeah aftah freedom, Marster Loyed moves from Palo Pinto to Fo't Wo'th. He lives in de place dats now
Marine Pahk. He sez he don' want to live in a country whar de niggers am free. He kills hisse'f 'bout a yeah aftah
dey moves heah. Aftah de Marster kills hisse'f, Ise sho glad w'en pappy comes fo' me. He had settled at Azle on a
rented fahm. Ise lives wid pappy fo' 'bout ten yeahs. Den Ise goes an' stays wid my brudder an' sistah who lived on
Ash Crick. De three ob us rents lan' an' de three ob us wo'ks an' runs dat fahm.
"Ise git mai'ied 'bout four yeahs aftah Ise goes to Ash Crick to Bell Johnson. We had four chilluns. He wo'ks fo' w'it
an' makes our livin' dat away. 'Bout nine yeahs aftah our, mai- iage, my husban' gits drownded. Aftah my husban'
drowns, Ise wo'ks fo' w'ite fo'ks an' cares fo' my chilluns fo' fo'tee yeahs. Then Ise gits mai'ies 'gain. Ise mai'ied Fred
Miller a cook, an' we lived heah in Fo't Wo'th. Ise have no chilluns by him. In 1915, he goes away to cook fo' de
road 'struction camp. Dats de last Ise heahs ob dat no 'count nigger.
"Lots ob diff'ence w'en freedom comes. Now, Ise sho wants my freedom. Mos' ob de time, Ise have w'at Ise wants
to eat an' all Ise want. Sometime 'twas a little hahd to git, but we got on. Ise now goes to preachin', have music, visit
wid de fo'ks Ise lak. Marster Loyed makes us wo'k f'om day light to dahk in de fields an' make cloth at night.
"An' Ise lak to fish, too! Right now, Ise wants to go fish- in' so bad Ise don' know w'at to does. Ise goes eber time
Ise git a chance. My bes' bait am worms. Ise did believe in signs, but I don' now. Ise believe dat w'en de fish am
hongry, dey will bite. Jus' lak fo'ks does w'en dey am hongry an' can git de food. An' de bigges' fish Ise caught?
Well, Ise fishin' off de Nine Mile Bridge, w'en Ise gits de bite dat comes close to pullin' me off dat bridge. Ise gittin'
tired, an' he am gittin' tired, but Ise skeert dat Ise gits plum tired out fust. Den all ob a sudden, dat fish eases up an'
den quits. Den Ise pulls steady an out he comes. Dat am a catfish, an' Lawd a masse! He was long's Ise tall. Ise
neber seed a bigger one. We sho had lots ob fish eatin' dat time.
(Mary E. Liberato, PW, Galveston, Texas, 2-2-38)
