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EX-SLAVE AUTOBIOGRAPHY)
JACK BESS was born near Goliad, Texas in 1854, a slave of Steve Bess who was a rancher. He worked with stock
as a very young boy and this was his duty during and after the Civil War, as he remained with his boss for three
years after emancipation. He then came to old Ben Ficklin four miles south of the present San Angelo, Texas, when
it was the county seat of Tom Green County and before there was a San Angelo. He continued his work on ranches
here and has never done any other kind of work. For the past several years he has been very feeble and has made his
home with a daughter in San Angelo, Texas.
Jack who was assisted out of bed and dressed by his grandson, hobbled in on his cane and said, "I was jes' a small
boy workin' on de ranch when I hear talk 'bout conscripting'
de men for de war what was agoin' to set de slaves free. We didn' know hardly what dey was a talkin' 'bout 'cause
we knowed dat would be too good to be true. I jes' keeps on workin' wid my hosses and my cattle (dere wasn't no
sheep den) jes' like dere wasn't no war, 'cause dat was all I ever knowed how to do.
"Our ole marster, he wasn't so very mean to us, course he whips us once and awhile but dat wasn't like de slave
holders what had dem colored drivers. Dey sho' was rough on de slaves. I's been told lots 'bout de chains and de
diffe'nt punishments but our treatment wasn't so bad. Our beds was pretty good when we uses dem. Lots of de time
we jes' sleeps on de groun', 'specially in summer.
"Our log huts was comfortable and we had some kind of floors in all of dem. Some was plank and some was poles
but but dat was better den de dirt floors some cabins have.
"De oats we have was jes' good oats, lots of meats and vegetables and de like; 'possum and coon and beef and pork
all cooked good. Our clothes was jes' home spun like all de others.
"We didn' have such a big ranch and not many slaves but we all gits along. We learns a little 'bout readin' and
writin'.
"I don't 'member any camp meetin's 'til after de war. We had a few den and on Christmas times we jes' tears up de
country. Lawdy! Lawd! Dat fiddlin' went on all night, and we dance awhile den lay down and sleeps, den gits up
and dances some mo'e. We would have big cakes and everything good to eat.
"When we gits sick dey jes' gives us some kind of ten, mostly made from weeds. Mos' of de time we gits well.
"When de news comes dat we was free our boss, he say, 'You free now.' Course we was glad but we didn' know
nothin' to do but jes' stay on dere, and we did 'bout three years and de boss pays us a little by de month for our work.
"I's lef' dere den and comes to old Ben Ficklin to work on a ranch. Dat was before dere was any San Angelo, Texas.
I's been here ever since, jes' a workin' from one ranch to another long as I was able. Now I's jes' stayin' 'round wid
my chillun and dey takes good care of me."
Benjamin, Sarah -- Additional Interview I is Sarah Benjamin. I is 82 years ole, I was bo'n in 1855 at Clavin Parish,
La. My mothers name was Fannie, my fathers name was Jack Callahan. I dont know whar they was bo'n. Thar was
jest three uv us chillens, Ise de oldest, we allus had cabins, two families ter de cabin, de beds was made of poles wid
holes bored through dem, and runs rope through dese holes and den straw mattresses puts on dis. Dis is whar we
sleeps.
Us chillens picks peaches and apples fer de cider mills and piles brush ter be burnt and all light work.
We had plenty to eat, meat and vegetables. My ole marster had a smoke house as big as a church and it was full, dey
had a big kitchen whar we all et, chillens and all. De grown folks et first and den de chillens. Folks workin in de
field did not hab time ter cook. We had plenty of possums and fish by de barrels full. All dis was cooked in racks
over de fire place. Der was one big garden, bout ten acres I guess.
I kin find no fault wid my marster, he was good ter us. He whips niggas same as other folks but not so bad dey
needs it. He had women ter care fer us chillens. I never seed my mistress, she done died, dey done had no chillens,
my marster lived in a big log house.
We had all home made clothes, dey made good clothes and pretty clothes for Sunday wear. Our ole marster wanted
all of his slaves ter go ter church. De chillens didn't hab no shoes, de oler ones had what we calls moccasins, one
seam kims up de foot. My daddy was a niggah driver and den he had an over seer with him. My daddy done all de
whippin.
I dunno how many acres and how many slaves on dis plantation, dey was all waked up fore daylight and to
breakfast, dey works from day light til dark, sometimes specially in cotton pickin dem shillens wouldnt se dem
parents til sadty, dey go ter fields so early and gits in so late de chillens warnt awake ter see dem.
Dey would whip dem cause dey wouldnt do right, little whippen was done on dis plantation. I seed my daddy put in
stocks fer runnin off. De niggah dogs brought him back. Dey had dogs ter go git you when you run away.
No sah, dey was no jail on dis plantation, dey jest chain em down er puts em in stocks. I was stripped start modern
named and put on de auction block when I was a child and bid $350.00 but marster says no case I was good and fat.
Dis block was round and bout three feet high.
I has seed great longs groups of slaves, de niggar speculator had dem, dey was lots of wagons and de chillens was
put in de wagons but de oldest ones and de grown folks was walkin, dey was chained togedder to keep them from
running off. De speculators was pretty bad dem days. Dey would buy and sell er trade fer anything, from babies on
up ter grown folks.
No day wouldnt try ter teach us nuthin if yer did yer better keep it to your self. If yer learned ter write dey would cut
yer thumb er finger off. No sah, no church on dis plantation, de church was bout three miles dey would carry us in
wagons, dey had a big arbor fer de cullod people. Dey was all good preachers, dey would do lots of singin, we
warnt lowed ter have prayah meetin er singin wid out havin guards roun ter notify us when de white folks were
cummin. We warnt lowed to pray either cause dey Lord might hear us and free us.
I has sed as many as two hundred babtides after a big meetin. I done member any funeral mong any of us ceptin my
mamma and dey jest saunt her down ter de cemetery and buried her foah men done dat, de rest kept working.
Yes a few did run away to de north, one ole man run away, he traveled all night den de next mornin he hollered and
he was home. Dey put him in stocks, he had been travelin in a circle all night and kem back ter whar he started
from.
De slaves did carry news from one plantation ter another, dey would gets a pass, jest a slip of paper from de over
seer er de ole marster an iffen he lost it, he better come back purty quick er he would gits a good whippin. When he
gits ter de othur plantation he would start telling his head off.
When de slaves would come in from de fields dey would eat and go to bed onless it was moon shine nights if it was
dey would work in their tobacco patch, de marster would give each man a terbaccer patch if he made more den he
could use he could sell de rest and de money was his'n. I specks my daddy had mo money and had mo ter eat during
slavery dan since.
De slaves on dis plantation nevah did work on sadty evenin, onless de works in der own terbaccer patch. Sometimes
dey would have a dance on Satdy night, slaves from othur plantations would bring der passes and de ovah seer
would take up de passes. We sho did have some good times ever body got along fine, dey knowed bettah den ter
start sumpin.
On Sunday mornin de marster usually loaded all of us up ceptin de cooks and dey took time bout sos dey could go
and we all goes to church in de wagon. On Christmas we all got a weeks vacation and a big dinnah Christmas day.
We usually got New Years day in our Christmas week. De Foath of July dat was de big day, we jest simply
celebrated all day and have de biggest times. We all was glad to see the Foath and hated ter see it go. My ole
marster sho did want ter see his niggahs have a good time dat day. De corn shuckin started when it started rainin and
de harder it rained de harder and longer dem niggahs shucked co'n. Dey all picked cotton in big baskets, and dey
could pick some cotton too, dem niggahs would begin singin and pickin cotton. And de women had ter run de gin in
de day time, and men at night. Dey fed de gin from baskets, my mammy fed de gin from baskets all day wid a high
fever and died dat night. She wouldnt tell de marster for she knew he would make her take medicin and she sho
didnt like ter take dat quinine. Der wasnt no marryin or deaths either in marsters family. His wife died fore I can
remember and he never married any more. And my mothers death is de only one mong de slaves.
I dont recomeber any games we played er songs we sung either, it has been so long ago. But we did play some of us
was slave owners and some of us was speculators and climb trees and go out into de timber and hunt fer baby pigs
er baby calves or little babies, we didnt have no bettah since den ter believe all dat. Why dey was all de time tellin
us bout bloody bones dat would scare de libber outn us and we would pay tenshun ter what dey told us too. Dey
allus had dem work songs and hollers but I done forgot all dem, I had too much to think about since as my ole man
died bout fourty years ago and I had ter finish raisin de kids and pay our home out. Well I never did seed but one
ghose dat was when I was bout grown, der was a bunch of us chillens playin down at a ole house where a white man
named Mr. Allen kilt another white man and dis dead mans ghost got ter walking round in de house, some of dem
saw it dey jest couldnt move dey jest stand der and look, I looks up and ask dem what dey see.
She wouldnt let no boys call you out to de fence and talks ter you, de courtin had ter be done on de back porch.
I members one time when de war was on de soldiers comes through and camps down close ter de barn, wal cose us
kids was a wantin ter see everything so nex mornin we all goes down and climbs up on de rail fence one dem ole
fashion kind dat is so crooked. We was settin dar and jest watchin when directly der was a hawn blowed and
soldiers began runnin every whar and us kids began runnin back ter de house bout as fast as de soldiers gits in line,
den dey all goes off. We didnt know what dey was going ter do when dey begins runnin, we thought maybe dey was
goin ter start shootin, so we's gitin way.
De day we was freed, slaves jest scattered every whar, dey was all free ceptin me. Mrs. Gilbert tole me I wasnt no
slave but I had ter stay there and help her fer my board until I was grown, my daddy didnt try to git me back. I
worked fer Mrs. Gilbert til I was sixteen years old jes doin house work, helpin do chores roun de house. When I was
sixteen, I runs away and jest works any whar fer bout two years, den I marrys Cal Benjamin and we comes ter
Texas, right here ter Corsicana and we goes ter work. When we had three chillens, Cal comes home one night and
says, "I saw Mrs. Gilbert in town ter day". Dat scares both of us case we thought she was a huntin me so I didnt go
ter town fer two years and Cal jest go and come back, but one day she spied Cal up dare and she walks up on him
afore he knows it and begins askin bout me she says she shore would like ter see me and de chilluns and tells Cal
she is not going ter try and take me back so Cal comes home and tells me bout it and we fixes de chilluns up pretty
and nice ter take dem in, but by dis time we has foah stidda three, and we took dem in she jest had a fit bout dem.
She jest had a fit bout how clean and healthy dey looked she shore was tickled ter see me and I was her too. I likes
her bettah now den I did when I was a girl, I thought den she was mean but I can see now she was jes simply strick.
It done me food, it help me raise my chilluns.
Our weddin was jes like mos all weddins, jes gits a preachah ter marrys us and goes on. Cal and me had six chilluns,
Cal died before all de chilluns were grown and I had ter raise de rest of dem and finish paying out our home. Cal
had jes bough it when he died. Cal was good ter me, he nevah tried ter whip me like lots de rest of de darkies do dar
wives, yes sah Cal was a good man and he allus taught our chilluns ter be honest. Now I only got two chilluns I out
lives foah of dem, and I has one grand child and foah great grand chilluns. My chilluns work on de relief, I draws a
pension from Mr. Roosevelt. You know dat is de best man ter us poor people you done ever say. My grandson
works in Lincoln, Nebraska in de Ford place.
Mrs. Ada Davis, P.W. McLennan County, Texas District #8 (October 2, 1937 (No))
