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Amanda Eilers Brice was born a slave about 87 years ago in Bastrop, Bastrop County. Amanda belonged to the
Louis Eilers family at Bastrop, who was the owner of a store on Main Street. She says her master was very kind to
her, and once refused to take a thousand dollars for her, after having bought her for five hundred dollars. Her
mother was Sallie Herron, who was brought from Georgia and bought from the Ware family by John Herron of
McDade, Bastrop County. Her father was a white man. When Amanda was about sixteen years of age, she married
Paul Brice, who was working in a sawmill, near Bastrop. They had thirteen children, of whom only five still are
living. Her husband died more than thirty years ago. Amanda says that her living conditions were better during her
slavery days than now, although she lives in a comfortable bungalow with her daughter and son-in-law, Oscar
Woods', 1513 East 20th Street, Austin. Amanda's son, Hugh Brice, died during the World War, and she receives a
small monthly pension from the Federal Government.
"De folks always call me Mandy, but my real name is Amanda Eilers Brice. Now, I kain't tell yo' nothin' about de
days dat I was bawn, but here's how de white folks told me about my age: I was seben years old when de white
folks had a baby ob three weeks, and when dat child was eighty years old and died, I still remembahed dat I was
seben years older, and dat makes me eighty-seben. Anyhow, dat's whut de white folks tell me. I don't know.
"Ma's name was Sallie Herron, and she come f'om Georgia somewhere. Mawster Ware was her owner den, and he
sold her to mawster John Herron ob McDade, Bastrop County. He had a laghe cotton plantation and den he had a lot
of stock too. Mawster Herron was good to ma, and he was whut people called a good neighbor. Nobody had to
suffer on his place. I'm tellin' yo' dis 'cause it's de truth. He was a good man. If yo' didn't git whut yo' wanted on dat
place, den it was yo' own fault. Ma was small and plump, lak me. She was a brown-skinned woman. Mawster
Herron's wife died when his two young girls was still young, dere names was Lizzie and Mattie. Lizzie married rich
and Mattie married poor. Lizzie' husband, John Tinnen, had a big ranch at Hogeye, and dey call it Elgin now, over
in Bastrop County. Me stayed right on at de Herron place, until dem two girls got married. De old man never did
marry again. Ma died about thutty years ago, I think it was. Us niggers ob dem days never did know how to keep
dates ob things dat happened. Ma had six chillun, five boys and one girl.
"I never did see my fathaw. I don't know nothin' about him, 'ceptin' jes' whut I heard. All dat I know is dat he was a
white man.
"De mawster dat owned me was Louis Eilers ob Bastrop, Bastrop County. He was a merchant down dere. He kept
groceries and everything---candy, whiskey and de like. One day his big store got burned down, and de clerk, a
Mister Berger, got burned to a crisp. I remembah dat 'cause I was about thutteen years old at de time.
"Dere is one thing dat I sho' do remembah. Dere was one tame Injun dat was dressed lak any white man, and he
always come to Mawster Eilers' store to play on a laghe harp. It was one ob dem harps dat yo' could set on de floor
and play wid yo' hands. De Injun was a tall man, but dat harp was almost as laghe as he was. I don't remembah
nothin' about him, jes' dat I remembah he played dat laghe harp.
"Ob course durin' dem early days, we always heard a lot about de wild wild Injuns but dey never did bother us. Why
de first real wild Injun I ever saw was in a wild west show at Bastrop, after de slaves' freedom.
"Mawster Eilers would credit people in his store. Dey could come in at any time and buy on credit. He had a plank
store on Main Street, and his house was near the courthouse.
"Mawster Eilers was a good man, too. All dat I had to do was nuss de baby. De folks used to tell me dat I was a
valuable little nigger.
"I used to belong to a man by de name ob Frank Smith when I was real young. I don't remembah much about him.
De folks used to tell me dat people talked about me lak dis:
"'Whut yo' goin' to de wid dat little nigger?'
"'Sell her.'
"'Sell her? Why yo' won't git nothin for her, she's too little and skinny.'
"But after awhile a Mister Trigg come around and said, "Eilers, I'll give yo' a thousand dollars fo' her."
"'No, I want her fo' my own need, she's a valuable little nigger,' Master Eilers told him.
"Mawster Eilers had paid only five hundred dollars fo' me, still he wouldn't sell me.
"De Eilers had good meals. Whut dey had to eat, I had it. I was so spoiled dat de other folks called me "Eilers' free
nigger" cause my mawster let me go anywhere widout a pass. I was jes' spoiled.
"When I was still a slave de Eilers would go down to La Grange, Fayette County, to visit kinfolks. Dey would go in
a buggy, and dere wasn't room fo' me so I was sent ahead in de stagecoach. From Bastrop to LaGrange was de
airline road. Cunninghams' Stage Stand was between Bastrop and La Grange, and dat's where de hosses was
changed. De white folks paid my fare so I don't know how much dat I had to pay fo' de trip. I know dat once I went
on dat trip and had to sit on a "middle seat". Goin' on de way down two fine lookin' gentlemen was settin' in the
coach. Folks told me dat dey was Sam Houston and a Colonel Boston. Ob 'couse I was too little to know who dey
was.
"I have never been to school one hour in my life. I could of learned, I reckon, but I thought dat I was too smart. I jes'
never took no interest in schoolin'. De folks in de earlier days never did learn us our A B C's. So, to dis day I kain't
read or write.
"When I was about fifteen years old I was set free. Mistress Carolin, de mawster's wife, come to me and jes' said,
"Mandy, yo' is free, yo' don't belong to us no mo'."
"About a week or two later my ma come down f'om McDade and took me wid her. I had to help around de place.
After freedom I had to go out and pick cotton. I never was much ob a picker. De most dat I could pick was about
two hunnert pounds, and I couldn't look around at de birds. Ma used to say dat where she come f'om in Georgia dere
was so little cotton dat yo' could pick it in a apron. Ma never was a cotton picker dat could pick much. She never
could pick more'n a hunnert pounds ob cotton a day.
"After a year ob freedom, when I was sixteen, I was married to Paul Brice. Paul was a right young man, about
twenty or something. When I got married I sho' had to git busy. I never did have time fo' a rockin' chair. We had
thirteen chillun, nine boys and four girls. Dere is only five ob de chillun livin' today.
"Paul was workin' fo' de Brice and Lyman sawmill, near Bastrop, fo' five dollahs a month, and we got our cabin and
board. We lived in a one-room log cabin and it had only one door, and nary a window. Paul helped saw down trees
and made shingles and slabs. Dem was pine trees down in de lost pine forest section.
"I reckon dat I liked dat country 'cause I never knowed no other place fo' a long time. Our little cabin was about five
miles f'om de sawmill and Paul had to walk to work and back. Sometimes he caught a ride.
"Paul was workin' at dat sawmill when I met him. Yo' know how young folks is. After we married Paul worked dere
fo' a number ob years. Den it was about three chillun befo' I moved to Austin. De oldest was a girl, Emma, and she
was about four years old. I worked out here in Austin, and Paul fahmed down in Bastrop County. I'd go down dere
every once in awhile and visit folks. Paul died more'n thutty years ago, and he is buried at Oak Hill, Bastrop
County.
"Now I live here wid my son-in-law, Oscar Woods, and he's been a mighty good man to me. When he has wood to
burn, I kin burn it; when dere is bread in de house, I kin eat dat. Oscar has been a mighty good son-in-law to me.
Dibble, Fred W., P.W. Beaumont, Jefferson, Dist. #3 (September 17, 1937 (Yes))
