Mattie Williams, 84, was born a slave in 1854, on the John Amos Richardson cotton plantation, at Memphis,
Tennessee. Mattie was a house-girl during slavery days. She says her master, who was nicknamed Doc, was good to
her folks; but the overseer was rough at times. Her father was Henry Richardson, a man who was so tall and heavy
that neighbors referred to him as double jointed. Henry was a field worker. Mattie's mother was Mary Jane
Richardson, who was a field woman. She was known as a great cotton picker. She had eight children, two boys and
six girls. Doc Richardson brought his slaves to Texas about a year and a half prior to 1865. He settled at
Webberville, Travis County where he rented his slaves out to other plantation owners. Mattie has been married four
times: Sandy Jones, Jerry Moore, Ab Yancey and Perry Williams. She said rather sadly that although she's been
married four times, she has never been a mother. Mattie is a short, very black negro. She is of a serious type, but
enjoys a joke as much as anyone. She lives with her sister, Diana Johnson - a buxom, cheerful person -
in a small, frame house on a high bluff overlooking the Colorado River, east of Austin, on Rural Route 2, Box 261.
These two sisters have a clean house, and a large front yard where many flowering plants and shurbs grow. Mattie
has rheumatism now and then, and it prevents her from doing her daily chores. She receives a monthly pension of
seven dollars from the State of Texas.
"When I was a girl, my name was Mattie Richardson. I was bawn in about 1854, and I'm eighty-four years old. I
was bawn on Mawster John Amos Richardson's cotton plantation, back in Memphis, Tennessee. Folks always called
our mawster "Doc."
"Mawster Richardson was putty good to us. He had a overseer dat was putty cruel to us at times; but de mawster
never did believe in sellin' us.
"I had to do de housework in dem days. My sistah, Harriett, was a nuss fo' de chillun in de big-house.
"Mammy's name was Mary Jane Richardson. She was a field woman. She was a medium size, and weighed about
one hunnert and fifty pounds. When I growed up, me and mammy could wear de same clothes, but none of de other
girls could. Mammy had eight chillun, two boys and six girls. Me and Diana and Arch is de only ones livin' today.
Mammy has been dead fo' about forty-seven years.
"Pappy's name was Henry Richardson. He was a tall, heavy-built man, and he was double-jointed. Why, it was
against de law fo' him to hit anybody. He was a field worker. He was no good cotton picker, but mammy was de
good picker.
"Folks had to do whut yo' called a task each day, and yo' had to finish it befo' yo' was through fo' de day. Pappy was
sich a poor picker, dat mammy had to drop cotton in his row, so he'd have enough to make up fo' his task each day.
"Den pappy had to haul stuff wid oxen. He hauled groceries and sich f'om San Antonio to de mawster's place. Dis
was after we was brought to Texas. Pappy had a whoop dat yo' could hear fo' about a half a mile. He could curl his
tongue up in a way dat made his whistle sound a long ways off.
"When we'd hear dat whistle, we'd say, "Dat's pappy comin' down de road.'
"I believe dat we den moved to Arkansas. We left Arkansas and come to Texas about a year and a half befo' we was
set free. We was brought down to Webberville, east of Austin.
"Mawster Richardson never had no plantation here, but he hired us out to other fahmers. De men folks was hired out
to plow, plant, gather crops, split rails, cut wood, and do a little of everything; de wimmen was hired out fo' cooks,
nusses, and sich.
"One day, Mawster Richardson made all of his men quit work in de other fahmer's fields, and told 'em to help him
kill some hogs. He said dat all of us was goin' to have a big dinner. My grandmammy, Peggy Turner, was de cook.
When we got through washin' our faces, we set down by a long table, right in de yard at de big-house. We had meat,
cakes, pies, and everything. I'll never forgit dat dinner. When we got through eatin', Mawster Richardson read to us
f'om a paper.
"'Yo' folks is free today. I haven't got nothin' to give yo'.... yo'all will have to go and find a place. And now yo'all is
free.'
"When Mawster Richardson's slaves found out dat dey was free, a lot of 'em went back to Arkansas. De biggest
bunch of 'em stayed here in Texas.
"I was only thutteen years old when I got married in 1867. Girls in dem days had to marry young, so dey would
have a place to stay. Yo' see, de day when freedom rung out, our pappy went one way, and our mammy went
another way. In a way, pappy had two wimmen durin' slavery. It seemed lak dat when one woman had a child, den
de other'n would have a child. I want to tell yo' de plain facts.
"On de day of freedom, pappy left, and mammy took her chillun and walked four and a half miles to de Bell place.
De Bells had a fahm. We got to de place at sundown. Dey didn't know us, but mammy went up to de house.
"'Whut do yo' want?' asked Mrs. Bell.
"'A job,' mammy said.
"We was allowed to stay here fo' de night. De next day Mrs. Bell hired us. She give us a room, our eats and clothes.
We had to do a little of everything.
"It was after dis dat mammy got married to my stepdaddy, Tom Richardson. Dey got married by marriage license.
Yo' see pappy and mammy had been married jes' by havin' pappy jump backwards across a broomstick, dat was
placed across de open door.
"My first husband's name was Sandy Jones. He was a fahmer. Me and him made some good crops. I was a putty
good cotton picker, and picked close to three hunnert pounds of cotton a day. But I never could git my three
hunnert. Sandy was a putty good husband, but he got sick and died in 1901.
"Jerry Moore was my second husband. He was a fahmer, too. Jerry had done been married three times befo' I got
him. He done had about ten or twelb chillun. Me and Jerry lived together f'om 1902 to 1914. He dropped dead f'om
heart trubble.
"My third husband was Ab Yancey. We got married in September, 1922. He done had six grown chillun when we
got married. We married in September, and by March of de next year, we got separated. He claimed dat he couldn't
make a livin' fo' me. He told me to go back home. I didn't have no home to go to. One day I was told dat Ab wanted
to see me in Bastrop, about thutty-one miles east of Austin. It cost me a dollah and a half to go in a car to see him.
"'I want yo'-all to sign somethin'' he said.
"'Whut is it yo' want me to sign, Ab?'
"'Well I might die and I want yo' to sign dis. If yo'll sign it, I got some money fo' yo'.'
"I fooled around wid him f'om ten in de mawnin' to about four in de afternoon.
"'Well,' I said, 'Yo' neednt to act lak dis, if yo' don't want me, I don't want yo'. I was goin' to write to yo' anyhow.
"I looked at his lawyer, and asked, 'Whut does he want me to sign?'
"'He's talkin' to yo'. I reckon dat he kin tell yo'.'
"'I kain't read or write,' I told de lawyer, 'kin jes' make a cross fo' my name. If I got two bits comin' give it to me.'
"I signed de paper and didn't know whut I was signin'. Ab den give me ten dollahs. It wasn't until some other folks
told me about it, dat I knowed I singed my divorce. I never saw him no mo'e. Ab lost his mind a few months after
dis.
"After a year and a half later, I was married to Perry Williams. He wasn't no good husband. I have been married
four times, and I ain't never been no mothaw. We lived together on and off fo' about five years. Den we separated,
and got a divorce. He is still livin' in town. Perry done almost any kind of work dat he could git. He never was no
fahmer.
"I've been married four times, and in all I got jes' two men, and de others was jes' two britches, well patched.
"I never did git to learn my A B C's during slavery. I did go to school fo' awhile after slavery. My mean step pappy
let us go to school only on rainy days. On de good days, we had to plow, plant,
father crops, and drive oxen to de gin wid a bale of cotton. Dere was times in my early days when I didn't know
whut it was to stay home wid mammy, 'cause I was hired out to do so much work.
(Colbert, Joe W., Ft. Worth, Texas, District #7, 6 April 1938, (Yes))