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CLARA BRIM, slave of William Lyons of Branch, Louisiana, now lives in Beaumont, Texas. The town of Branch
was known in slave days as Plaquemine Bouley. Clara estimates her age to be 100 or 102, and from various facts
known to her and her family, this would seem to be correct.
"Old massa's name was William Lyons. I didn't have no old missus, 'cause he was a bachelor. He had a big
plantation. I don't know how bit but dey somethin' like twenty fam'lies of slaves and some dem fam'lies had plenty
in dem. My ma was Becky Brim and pa, he name Louis Brim. She come from Old Virginny. Dey work in de field. I
had two sister name Cass and Donnie and a brudder name Washington. He went off to de war. When it break out
dey come and take him off to work in de army. He lost in dat war. He didn't come back. Nobody ever know what
happen to him.
"Some de houses log house and some plank, but dey all good. Dey well built and had brick chimneys. Dey houses
what de wind didn't blow in. Us had beds, too, not dem built in de wall. Us sho' treat good in slavery times, yes, suh.
Old massa give us plenty clothes to keep us good and warn. He sho' did.
"Old massa, he wasn't marry and eat de same things de slaves eat. He didn't work dem in de heat of de day. 'Bout
eleven o'clock, when dat sun git hot, he call dem out de field. He give dem till it git kind of cool befo' he make dem
go back in de field. He didn't have no overseer. He seed 'bout de plantation hisself. He raise cotton and corn and
sweet 'taters and peas and cane, didn't fool with rice. He didn't go in for oats, neither.
"When Sunday come Old Massa ask who want to go to church. Dem what wants could ride hoss-back or walk. Us
go to de white folks church. Dey sot in front and us sot in back. Us had prayer meetin'. too, reg'lar every week. One
old cullud man a sort of preacher. He de leader in 'ligion.
"When de slaves go to work he give dem de task. Dat so much work, so many rows cotton to chop or corn to hoe.
When dey git through dey can do what dey want. He task dem on Monday. Some dem git through Thursday night.
Den dey can hire out to somebody and git pay for it.
"Old Massa even git de preacher for marryin' de slaves. And when a slave die, he git de preacher and have Bible
readin' and prayin'. Mostest de massas didn't do dat-a-way.
"I as big in war time as I is now. I used to do anything in de field what de men done. I plow and pull fodder and
pick cotton. But de hardes' work I ever done em since I free. Old Massa, he didn't work us hard, noway.
"He allus give us de pass, so dem patterrollers not cotch us. Dey 'boat six men on hoss-back, ridin' de roads to cotch
niggers what out without de pass. Iffen dey cotch him it am de whippin'. But de niggers on us place was good and
civ'lized folks. Dey didn't have no fuss. Old Massa allus let dem have de garden and dey can raise things to eat and
sell. Sometime dey have some pig and chickens.
"I been marry his' one time and he been dead 'bout forty-one years now. I stay with Old Massa long time after
freedom. In 1913 I come live with my youngest kid here in Beaumont. You see, I can't 'member so much. I has lived
so long my 'memberance ain't so good now.
Brim, Clara -- Additional Interview
The rear door of a two-room house formed a frame around Clara Brim, Beaumont centenarian, as she sat in her
daughter's home and told her story. Her head was turbaned in antebellum mammy style, except that the material she
used was of brown cloth. Her hair was completely hidden by its folds. She wore a waist of white with a narrow blue
stripe, a yellowish-tan skirt and a pair of men's house slippers. Her face was very much wrinkled, her nose typical of
her race, but her lips were less thick than one would have expected. She was the slave of Williams Lyons of Branch,
Louisiana, formerly known as Plaquemine Bouley, not far from Opelousas. Her age has been variously estimated
from 98 to 102, her family holding to the former age, not as more nearly correct, but as the more conservative
estimate.
"My ol' master's name was William Lyons. I didn' had no ol' missus 'cause he was a bachelor. He had a big
plantation. I dunno how big it was but dey was somep'n' like twenty or twenty-two fam'lies of slaves on de place,
and some of de fam'lies had plenty in 'em. Some of de houses was log house and some was buil' outer plank, but dey
was all good houses. Dey wasn' jis' put togedder any way, but dey was well built. Dey had brick chimneys. Dey was
houses de win' didn' blow in. Dey was 'bout like dis here house. Dey had two rooms in 'em, and a lof'. Us had good
beds. Dey was beds, dey wasn' dese here buil' in frame t'ings. Dey had a table and benches in 'em for de slaves to sit
on. Dey feed us good and plenty. Us was sho' treat' good in slavery time, yes sah. Ol' master give us plenty of clo's
to keep us good and warm, he sho' did."
"Dey uster had one ol' lady to cook for all de han's and one to ten' to de chilluns. And dey was a big bunch of dem
chilluns, dey sho' was. Dey had a nuss woman what would give de li'l ones breas' nuss when dey mammies was out
wukkin'."
"De ol' master he warn't marry and he eat de same t'ings de slaves eat. He treat' his slaves good. He didn' wuk 'em in
de heat of de day. 'Bout 'leben o'clock when de sun git hot he call 'em out of de fiel'. He tell 'em to come out dat hot
sun. He give 'em 'til it 'gin to git kinder cool befo' he mek 'em go back in de fiel'. He had li'l boys to bring water to
de han's when dey was wukkin' in de fiel'."
"I neber was bruised and knocked about. My ol' master neber let his niggers git whip. He didn' had no overseer. He
seed 'bout de plantation hisself. Dey raise' cotton and co'n, and sweet 'taters and peas and cane. Dey didn' fool wid
rice. Dey mighter plant' some where dere was some li'l pon' jis' for deyself to eat, but dey didn' go in for dat much.
Dey didn' go in for oats needer."
"Dey had a woman to do weavin'. Some of de clo's was homemek. Some of de clo'f dey buy from de sto'."
"My ma was Becky Brim and my pa he name was Louis Brim. She come from ol' Virginny. Dey uster wuk in de
fiel'. 'Sides me, I had two sister' name' Cass and Donnie. Den I had a brudder. His name was Washington. He went
off to de war. When de war break out dey come and tek him off to wuk in de army. He was los' in de war. Atter de
war was over he didn' come back. Nobody eber know what happen to him."
"I was as big den in de war time as I is now. I uster do anyt'ing in de fiel' de men done. Dey put me dere in de fiel' to
wuk right 'long wid men. I's plowed and pull fodder and pick cotton and done mos' eb'ryt'ing to do in de fiel'. But de
hardes' wuk I eber done was since I free. Ol' master he didn' wuk us hard."
"When Sunday come 'roun' ol' master ax who wanter go to chu'ch. Dem what wanted to go could ride hoss-back or
walk. Us went to de white folks' chu'ch. It was a Mef'dis' chu'ch. De white folks dey sot at de front and de slaves
dey was in de back of de chu'ch. Dey had Sunday school, yes, dey sho' did have a Sunday school. A white lady she
was de teacher. She teach us 'bout de Bible and right and wrong. Dey didn' teach us to read any time though. I don'
'member de preacher' name but I uster t'ink he was a good preacher. I 'member de ol' songs dey uster sing, 'Mazin'
Grace' and 'On Jordan's Stormy Banks I Stan', and 'When I kin read my title clear.' Dem was good ol' hymns but dey
laid 'em aside and done sing 'em hardly 'tall no mo'. But it uster mek me feel happy and good inside to sing dem ol'
hymns."
"De cullud folks had dey own prayer meetin's. Dey hol' 'em reg'lar eb'ry week. Dey was one ol' cullud man what
was a sorter preacher. He was de leader in de 'ligious meetin's."
"Ol' master he was sho' a good man. He was a good Christian chu'ch man. Yes, sir, he go reg'lar to chu'ch and neber
miss 'thout good reason, bein' sick or bad wedder or sumpin' like dat."
"Dey neber was no dancin' on de place. I neber l'arn how to dance. I neber was on a ballroom flo' in my life, and I
neber tek no strong drink. I neber drink nuthin' stronger dan coffee. I neber try to dance. I was spen'in' my time
praisin' de Lawd 'cause He been so good to me, eben in slavery time."
"Ol' man Lyons he had t'ree brudders. Dey let all dey niggers git togedder and have singin' and prayin'. Sometime de
white folks sit 'roun' and enjoy it, and sometime dey go inside and have dey own 'joyment 'mongst deyselfs. But de
niggers dey sing hymns. Dey was all Christians and didn' sing no light songs."
"When us slaves go to some of de other brudders' places us hafter git passes. Iffen us didn' have pass de patterrollers
ketch us and whip us. Sometimes some of de niggers git out and go 'thout a pass, but dey hafter tek de chance."
"Dem patterrollers was 'bout six men on hossback ridin' de roads to ketch niggers what out 'thout passes. Dey jis'
ride de roads and iffen dey ketch a nigger what ain't got no pass dey whip him."
"Ol' master let de slaves have li'l gardens 'roun' dey houses and dey kin raise li'l veg'table and t'ings to eat deyselfs.
Some of 'em have some pig and chickens, too."
"When de slaves hafter go wuk in de fiel' he give 'em a task. Dat so much wuk, so many rows of cotton to chop or
co'n to hoe, and he tell 'em when dey git froo wid dat dey kin do what dey wanter. He do dat on Monday. Some of
'em wuk steady and maybe git froo Thursday night. Den dey kin hire deyself out to somebody else and git pay for
what wuk dey do, and mek some money dat way."
"Dey was lots of sojers come 'roun' dere in de war time. Dey wasn't Yankees dey was rebels. De sojers always come
in big gangs. Us was all scared when de Yankees come. De Yankees didn' come 'till atter de war stop. Dey say,
'Don't you know you free?' Us say, 'No. Ol' master he neber tol' us. Dey tol' ol' master go give his han's part of
eb'ryt'ing he got what dey help him raise. I got some co'n. I 'member I sol' my co'n at a dollar a barrel. Ol' master
neber did tell us. De Yankee sojers tol' us. Ol' master he jis' cry and cry like a chile when dey tol' us dat."
"When anybody gwine to git marry, de man he talk to de master 'bout it. On ol' master's plantation he git a preacher.
I was married in slavery. De white preacher he marry us befo' witness'."
"Cose, sometime somebody die on de place. Dey uster have wakes. De folks set up wid de corpse and sing and pray.
Dere was a buryin' groun' for de cullud folks. De white preacher come in and read de Bible and pray and den dey
bury de one what dead."
"Us had holidays on Fo'th of July and Cris'mus. Oh, man on Cris'mus he give us a big dinner."
"De cullud folks on de place was good, civ'lized folks. Dey didn' have no fuss. I heard 'bout chasin' niggers wid
dogs on other plantations but nuthin' like dat eber happen wid ol' master's niggers."
"I been marry jis' one time and my husban' been dead long time, 'bout 41 years ago."
"Atter freedom come us stay 'roun' and help ol' master mek crop. Den us uster go 'roun' and help other people wid
wash and sich."
"Yes, I 'member de Klu Klux. Dey come 'roun' by our house but dey neber stop and do nuthin' to us. But us was
scared. Us so scared us shut de do's befo' night come."
"I come to Beaumont in 1913. I live wid my younges' daughter here. Den us move to Tulane on de S.P., over in
Orange county. She kep' a bo'din' house dere, 'cause dere was a sawmill dere. Den she move' to Echo over on
Sabine River where de railroad cross over into Lou'sana. Den us come back to Beaumont. Dat was in 1920, and I
been here eber since."
Mrs. Ada Davis, P.W. McLennan County, Texas District #8 (October 21, 1937 (No))
Broaddhus, Ned -- Additional Interview
Negro superstitions---"Whatebber goes obber de ole debbil's back gwine come back under his belly."
"Whar dey ain't no debbils dey ain't nairy need for angels."
"De spirit can sing, but de flesh gwine wail."
"Miss, allus keep a keerful tongue you want keep a happy heart."
"Yer mustn't stretch yer feet out longer'n yer blanket."
"When de ole rooster crows three times yer better get up an' get doin'."
"Hab a dew three mornin's come rain shore."
"Effen a nigger don't pick five hundred pounds cotton a day, the debbil gwine come shore an' carry him away."
Songs: When you see me dying, I don't want you to make no alarms; Foh I can see King Jesus comin' To fol' my
dyin' arms.
Refrain: Well, well, well, so I kin die in Jesus Well, well, well, so I kin die in Jesus Well, well, well, so I kin die in
Jesus Jesus gonna make up my dyin' bed.
When you hear that I'm a-dyin', I don' want you to be afraid; All I want my frien's to do Is take de pillow from under
my haid.
Refrain: Well, well, well, so I kin die easy, etc.
When you see my dyin' I don' want you to cry; All I want my frien's to do Is close my dyin' eyes.
Refrain: Well, well, well, so I kin see Jesus, etc.
When you heah I'm dyin' I don't want you to mou'n; All I want my frien's to do Is give dat bell a tone.
Refrain: Well, well, well, tone the bell easy, etc.
I'se goin' from de cotton field, I'se goin' from de cane.
I'se goin' from de little log hut Dat sets up in de lane.
Dey tells me up in Kansas, So many miles away,
Dey tells me up dere, honey Dey're gettin' better pay.
Jesus rides a milk-white hoss, No man can hindah!
He rides him up an' down de cross, No man can hindah!
Chorus: Ride along, Jesus, No man can hindah! Ride along Jesus, No man can hindah.
When I was boun' and in trouble, An' didn' know what to do, I open my mouf unto de Lawd Now de saints I must
go through.
Dey crucified my Lawd An' He nevah said a word. Dey crucified my Lawd An' He nevah said a mumblin' word.
Not a word---not a word---not a word.
Reference: Ned Broaddhus, ex-slave over one hundred years old.
Mrs. Ada Davis McLennan County, Texas District #8 (October 16, 1937 (No))
