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PREELY COLSMAN was born in 1862 on the Souba farm, near New Berry, South Carolina, but he and his mother
ware sold and brought to Texas when Preely was a month oh. They settled near Alto, Texas. Preely now lives in
Tyler.
"I'm Preely Coleman and I never gits tired of talking. Yes, ma'am, it am Juneteenth, but I'm home, 'cause I'm too old
now to go on them celebrations. There was I born? I knows that 'sactly, 'cause my mammy tells me that a thousand
times. I was born down on the old Souba place, in South Carolina, 'bout ton mile from Kew Eorry. My mammy
belonged to the Souba family, but its a fact one of the Souba boys was my pappy and so the Soubas sells my
mammy to Bob and Dan Lewis and they brung us to Texas 'long with a big bunch of other slaves. Mammy tolls me
it was a full month 'fore they gits to Alta, their new home.
"When I was a chile I has a purty good time, 'cause there was plenty chillen on the plantation. We had the big races.
Durin' the war the sojers steps by on the way to Mansfield, in Louisiana, to git somethin' to eat and stay all night,
and then's when we had the races. There was a mulberry tree we'd run to and we'd line up and the sojers would say,
'How the first one to slap that tree gits a quarter,' and I nearly allus gits there first. I made plenty quarters slappin'
that old mulberry tree.!
"So the chillen gits into their heads to fix me, 'cause I wins all the quarters. They thrown a rope over my head and
started dragging me down the read, and down the hill, and I was nigh 'bout choked to death. My only friend was
Billy and he was a-fightin', tryin' to git me loose. They was goin' to throw me in the big spring at the foot of that
hill, but we meets Capt. Dorryman, a white man, and he took his knife and cut the rope from my neck and took me
by the heels and soused me up and down in the spring till I come to. They never tries to Hill me any more.
"My mammy done married John Solman on the way to Texas, no cere'mony, you knows, but with her massa's
consent. Now our masters, the Lewises, they loses their place and them the Solman's buy me and mammy. They
pays $1,500 for my mammy and I was throwed in.
"Massa Solman has five cabins in he backyard and they's built like half circle. I grows big 'nough to hoe and den to
plow. We has to be ready for the field by daylight and the conk was blowed, and massa call out, 'All hands ready for
the field.' At 11:30 he blows the conk, what am the mussel shell, you knows, 'gain and we eats dinner, and at 12:30
we has to be back at work. But massa wouldn't 'low no kind of work on Sunday.
"Massa Ton made us wear the shoes, 'cause they's so many snags and stumps our feets gits sore, and they was red
russet shoes. I'll never forgit 'on, they was so stiff at first we could hardly stand 'on. Nut Massa Ton was a good
man, though he did love he dram. He kep' the bottle in the center of the dining table all the time and every meal he'd
have the toddy. Us slaves at out under the trees in summer and in the kitchen in winter and most gen'rally we has
bread in pot liquor or milk, but sometimes honey.
"I well 'members when freedom come. We was in the field and massa comes up and say, 'You all is free as I is.'
There was shoutin' and singin' and 'fore night us was all 'way to freedom.
Coleman, Preely -- Additional Interview
Preely Coleman
"Yesma'm, I'm Preely Coleman, just have a seat in that swing. I never get tired of talking. You thought I might not
be home on the June-teenth. Well, I tell you Miss, I jest never did like the Celebration and picnics. Always too
much trouble, too much redeye, caused too many fights, cutting and slashing. I jest don't like it, so I say to the folks
this mawning, 'Now you go on, and I'll keep the house today.' Consequently I was washing dishes when you came.
"Yesma'm, I know exactly when I was born. I guess my mother tole me a thousand time, reckon she didn't wont me
to forget and I haven't. I was born in 1852 in South Carolina, on the Souba Farm, ten miles from the county seat of
New Berry. New Berry being the county seat at that time.
"My mother belonged to the Souba family and because, I hate to say this Miss, but it's a fact one of the Souba boys
was my father, they made my mother leave. All I know is what my mother has told me many times. I don't
remember whether the Soubas sold my mother, but anyway she fell into the hands of the Lewis Brothers, Bob and
Dan. They brought a big bunch of slaves to Texas an' my mother was among the number. I was a month old when
we left over there an' it took better than a month to make the trip.
"We settled about five miles east of Alto, just off the old San Antonio road. Our beds were made of straw an' grass
as well as shucks, but they were clean. There were several chillun on the plantation and we had some time running
races. I well remember how mad the other chillun would be when I'd win the races, an' I nearly always won it too.
During the Civil War the soldiers would often stop by on the way to or from Mansfield, Louisiana, to get something
to eat an' stay all night, and then's when the big races took place. There was a certain big Mulberry tree that we
would run to. We chillun would line up an' the soldiers would say, 'Now the first one to slap that tree gets a quarter,'
an' away we'd go, an' I nearly always get there first, and the soldiers would say, 'Alright Preely come get you
quarter.' Miss I made lots of quarters slapping that old Mulberry. The others chillun decided one day they'd kill me
so'd they could win some of the races.
"My mother married on the way to Texas. No cermony you understand, but with her masters consent, John Selman
took her for his wife.
When Bob and Dan Lewis settled with us east of Alto, we stayed with them two years, so my mother told me and
they lost the place, then we were bought by the Selman's, Master Tom Selman and his wife Missus Polly. They had
three married boys, Joe, Tom Jr. and Frank. We called Frank our Young Master. My mother always told me that
Master Tom paid fifteen hundred dollars for her and the same for her husband.
"There were five cabins in the big yard an' they were built in a half circle. There were five acres in the yard, with
lots of trees in it. It was here that we had the races which nearly caused my death. Because I was the best runner and
won the quarters the other chillun decided to kill me. These chillun belonged to Antney, the foreman. There was
Lewis, Henry and Clark, Frankie, Emaline, Caroline and Adoline. They had it in for me but I had one friend, Billy.
He allus tried to help me out. One day when when we were playing the chillun threw a rope over my head and
started draggin' me down the road, Billy a fightin' and tryin to make 'em turn me loose. They started down the hill
with me, but I was nigh't about choked to death. At the foot of the hill was a big spring, and about half way down
we met Cap'n Berryman, of Alto, a white man. He was riding a big white horse and when he saw what was
happening he jumped from his horse, took his knife and cut the rope from my neck, grabbed me up and made for the
spring. There he took me by the heels and soused me up and down in the water then lay me on the grass and rolled
me over an' over. When I came to, he carried me back to the house and made all the chillun march up the hill ahead
of him and he tole master Tom what had happened. Massa Tom give them a good scare, make 'em think he was
gonna skin 'em alive, but he didn't hurt 'em. No ma'm, they never tried to kill me anymore. Thanks to Cap'n
Berryman.
"We played hide and switch too. I went to mill a few times but not often. Master Tom would deal out the groceries
to the families every Saturday afternoon, deal 'em out accordin' to the size of the family.
"As we grew up an' got big enough to work our first work was to learn to hoe. Massa Tom or Young Master Frank
made us use the hoe two years and them to the plow. That was the way they managed things. Chillun made hoe
hands for two years, then started to plowing. We had to be up an' ready for the field by daylight. The conk, or
mussel shell was blown at eleven-thirty and we had to be back at the field at twelve-thirty. Massa Tom or Young
Frank would always holler out of a morning, 'All hands ready for the field.' We always got Saturday afternoon off.
The women washed, swept yards, tidied up the house and cooked some. Master wouldn't allow no kind of work to
be done on Sunday. If he heard an ax sound he would go out an say, 'Young man haven't you got enough wood up,
lay that ax down and go to my wood pile and git enough to do you, then see if you can't get yours up next Saturday.
We had plenty clothes to wear an' Master Tom made us wear shoes all the time for there were so many stumps an'
snags we would keep our feet sore and lost too much time from the field, so he decided he'd gain more to keep us in
shoes, old red russets, I'll never forget 'em.
"We allus watched for Santa Claus to come down the chimney and put something in our stocking. Generally got it
to, maybe some candy and a pair of new socks or shirt. We wore long shirts with a slit in each side, no breetches.
"We went to church once a month. The slaves had their own little meeting house. Our favorite songs were,
'Amazing Grace,' 'Where He Leads Me,' and 'When I Can Read My Title Clear.' I still remember how one of the
overseers, a white man, Andy Odom, got so happy that he fell offen a rail fence one day where he was watching the
hands as they chopped cotton. They got to singing an finally broke out on 'Am I a Soldier of the Cross.' Mr. Odom
got so happy he went to shouting and fell off the fence.
"I've been a member of the Baptist Church since a young man. Had an awful time. Baptized in 1872 in Beans Creek,
near Holly Springs. I found the Lawd the second Sunday night in May 1872, just before day. Had an awful time
with the devil. He jest kept trying to throw me off the track, but I finally won out. I had a certain place that I went to
pray and the devil he allus went to. 'Peared like he'd say, 'Come on Preely, go with me.' I couldn't get away from
him, but I kept fighting and praying and I finally whipped him. An' Miss, I've been steadfast an' immovable so far,
but you know the devil is watching me all the time trying to get in his dirty work, it's not only me he's after all of us.
We got to watch him.
"Master Tom lived to be eighty-nine years old. He was good man, but did love dram. He kept a bottle in the center
of his dining table all the time an' every meal he has a toddy. No ma'm, never drank it straight. Jest toddy. An' when
company came, everyone, even the preachers, they must drink with him. Some of the other slaves were Uncle Kane,
he was a very good old negro, so old that he couldn't pick up his feet when he walked, jest dragged 'em along. We
allus know his tracks. He wore the heels of his shoes off an' even the inside lining in no time. We called him
grandpa. Aunt Dicey was the oldest woman. She was the cook and allus fed us chillun. In the warm weather we ate
out under the trees, but when it was cold we ate in the kitchen. She put our food in a big pan and gave each of us a
spoon. Most generally we had bread crumbs in pot liker or milk. Sometimes we had butter an' honey with our bread.
The chillun had two meals a day. We called Aunt Dicey grandma. Aunt Edie, Aunt Polly and Aunt Jane, Aunt
Caroline and my mother were the older women. Uncle Mitchell and Jack Little an' Antney were the men, then there
was a good passel o' chillun.
"Jack Little was almost a wild man. I think he came from Africa, caused a world of trouble, wouldn't work, finally
ran off and lived in the woods two years. Somebody slipped a frying pan to him and he had his gun. Just lived on
wild turkeys and rabbits He was staying in woods when freedom came. I well remember how
Master came to the field where we were pullin' fodder. I was not tall enough to reach the upper leaves or blades, so
I'd pull the bottom leaves an lay 'em down for my mother to tie up. Marster came up an say, 'Well you all are just as
free as I am now. You can do what you want to. Stay on here or leave.' Well that was a happy occasion. Some of the
hands didn't even finish tying the bundles of fodder that was pulled. My mother's family went to Miss Caroline
Selmans. She was Marster Tom's sister. We stayed there four years. She hired me out sometimes to one then the
other. I married later on. No ma'm, I didn't have no big wedding, but my mother gave me a nice dinner. Your great
grandfather, Uncle Hiram McKnight, married me Miss, he was Justice of the Peace an' married us in the old
courthouse at Rusk. I had nine chillun by my first wife an'none by the second. I live here with my daughter Emma.
The three boys, Henry, Stevy and Larkin, are still living, working at public work."
B. E. Davis Madinsonville, Texas District #8 (March 6, 1938 (No))
