Ellen Betts
From:
Texas
ELLEN BETTS, 118 N. Live Oak St., Houston, Texas, is 84. All of her
people and their masters came from Virginia and settled in
Louisiana about 1853. Her grandparents belonged to the Green family
and her parents, Charity and William Green, belonged to Tolas
Parsons. Ellen lives with friends who support her. Her sole
belonging is an old trunk and she carries the key on a string
around her neck.
"I got borned on de Bayou Teche, clost to Opelousas. Dat in St. Mary's
Parish, in Louisiana, and I belonged to Tolas Parsons, what had 'bout
500 slaves, countin' de big ones and de little ones, and he had God know
what else. When my eyes jes' barely fresh open, Marse Tolas die and will
de hull lot of us to he brother, William Tolas. And I tells you dat
Marse William am de greates' man what ever walk dis earth. Dat's de
truth. I can't lie on him when de pore man's in he grave.
"When a whuppin' got to be done, old Marse do it heself. He don't 'low
no overseer to throw he gals down and pull up dere dress and whup on
dere bottoms like I hear tell some of 'em do. Was he still livin' I
'spect one part of he hands be with him today. I knows I would.
"When us niggers go down de road folks say, 'Dem's Parson's niggers.
Don't hit one dem niggers for God's sake, or Parsons sho' eat your
jacket up.'
"Aunt Rachel what cook in de big house for Miss Cornelia had four
young'uns and dem chillen fat and slick as I ever seen. All de niggers
have to stoop to Aunt Rachel jes' like dey curtsy to Missy. I mind de
time her husband, Uncle Jim, git mad and hit her over de head with de
poker. A big knot raise up on Aunt Rachel's head and when Marse 'quire
'bout it, she say she done bump de head. She dassn't tell on Uncle Jim
or Marse sho' beat him. Marse sho' proud dem black, slick chillen of
Rachels. You couldn't find a yaller chile on he place. He sho' got no
use for mixin' black and white.
"Marse William have de pretties' place up and down dat bayou, with de
fine house and fine trees and sech. From where we live it's five mile to
Centerville one way and five mile to Patterson t'other. Dey hauls de
lumber from one place or t'other to make wood houses for de slaves.
Sometime Marse buy de furniture and sometime de carpenter make it.
"Miss Sidney was Marse's first wife and he had six boys by her. Den he
marry de widow Cornelius and she give him four boys. With ten chillen
springin' up quick like dat and all de cullud chillen comin' 'long fast
as pig litters, I don't do nothin' all my days, but nuss, nuss, nuss. I
nuss so many chillen it done went and stunted my growth and dat's why I
ain't nothin' but bones to dis day.
"When de cullud women has to cut cane all day till midnight come and
after, I has to nuss de babies for dem and tend de white chillen, too.
Some dem babies so fat and big I had to tote de feet while 'nother gal
tote de head. I was sech a li'l one, 'bout seven or eight year old. De
big folks leave some toddy for colic and cryin' and sech and I done
drink de toddy and let de chillen have de milk. I don't know no better.
Lawsy me, it a wonder I ain't de bigges' drunker in dis here country,
countin' all de toddy I done put in my young belly!
"When late of night come, iffen dem babies wake up and bawl, I set up a
screech and out-screech dem till dey shut dere mouth. De louder day bawl
de louder I bawl. Sometime when Marse hear de babies cry, he come down
and say, 'Why de chillen cry like dat, Ellen?' I say, 'Marse, I git so
hongry and tired I done drink de milk up.' When I talk sassy like dat,
Marse jes' shake he finger at me, 'cause he knowed I's a good one and
don't let no little mite starve.
"Nobody ever hit me a lick. Marse allus say bein' mean to de young'uns
make dem mean when dey grows up and nobody gwineter buy a mean nigger.
Marse don't even let de chillen go to de big cane patch. He plant little
bitty patches close to de house and each li'l nigger have a patch and he
work it till it got growed. Marse have de house girls make popcorn for
'em and candy.
"I nuss de sick folks too. Sometime I dose with Blue Mass pills and
sometime Dr. Fawcett leave rhubarb and ipicac and calomel and castor oil
and sech. Two year after de war, I git marry and git chillen of my own
and den I turn into de wet nuss. I wet nuss de white chillen and black
chillen, like dey all de same color. Sometime I have a white'un pullin'
de one side and a black one de other.
"I wanted to git de papers for midwifin' but, law, I don't never have no
time for larnin' in slave time. If Marse cotch a paper in you hand he
sho' whop you. He don't 'low no bright niggers 'round, he sell 'em
quick. He allus say, 'Book larnin' don't raise no good sugar cane.' De
only larnin' he 'low was when dey larn de cullud chillen de Methodist
catechism. De only writin' a nigger ever git, am when he git born or
marry or die, den Marse put de name in de big book.
Law, I 'lect de time Marse marry Miss Cornelia. He went on de mail boat
and brung her from New Orleans. She de pretties' woman in de world
almost, 'ceptin' she have de bigges' mouth I nearly ever seed. He brung
her up to de house and all de niggers and boys and girls and cats and
dogs and sech come and salute her. Dere she stand on de gallery, with a
purty white dress on with red stripes runnin' up and down. Marse say to
her, 'Honey, see all de black folks, dey 'longs to you now.' She wave to
us and smile on us and nex' day she give her weddin' dress to my ma. Dat
de fines' dress I ever seen. It was purple and green silk and all de
nigger gals wear dat dress when dey git marry. My sister Sidney wore it
and Sary and Mary.
"Miss Cornelia was de fines' woman in de world. Come Sunday mornin' she
done put a bucket of dimes on de front gallery and stand dere and throw
dimes to de nigger chillen jes' like feedin' chickens. I sho' right here
to test'fy, 'cause I's right dere helpin' grab. Sometime she done put da
washtub of buttermilk on de back gallery and us chillen bring us gourds
and dip up dat good, old buttermilk till it all git drunk up. Sometime
she fotch bread and butter to de back gallery and pass it out when it
don't even come mealtime.
"Miss Cornelia set my ma to cuttin' patterns and sewin' right away. She
give all de women a bolt or linsey to make clothes and ma cut de
pattern. Us all have de fine drawers down to de ankle, buttoned with
pretty white buttons on de bottom. Lawsy, ma sho' cut a mite of drawers,
with sewin' for her eleven gals and four boys, too. In de summertime we
all git a bolt of blue cloth and white tape for trimmin', to make Sunday
dresses. For de field, all de niggers git homespun what you make jumpers
out of. I 'lect how Marse say, 'Don't go into de field dirty Monday
mornin'. Scrub youself and put on de clean jumper.'
"Marse sho' good to dem gals and bucks what cuttin' de cane. When dey
git done makin' sugar, he give a drink call 'Peach 'n Honey' to de women
folk and whiskey and brandy to de men. And of all de dancin' and
caperin' you ever seen! My pa was fiddler and we'd cut de pigeon wing
and cut de buck and every other kind of dance. Sometime pa git tired and
say he ain't gwineter play no more and us gals git busy and pop him corn
and make candy, so to 'tice him to play more.
"Marse sho' turn over in he grave did he know 'bout some dat 'lasses.
Dem black boys don't care. I seen 'em pull rats out de sugar barrel and
dey taste de sugar and say, 'Ain't nothin' wrong with dat sugar. It
still sweet.' One day a pert one pull a dead scorpion out de syrup
kettle and he jes' laugh and say, 'Marse don't want waste none dis
syrup,' and he lick de syrup right off dat scorpion's body and legs.
"Lawsy me, I seen thousands and thousands sugar barrels and kettles of
syrup in my day. Lawd knows how much cane old Marse have. To dem cuttin'
de cane it don't seem so much, but to dem what work hour in, hour out,
dem sugar cane fields sho' stretch from one end de earth to de other.
Marse ship hogs and hogs of sugar down de bayou. I seen de river boats
go down with big signs what say, 'Buy dis here 'lasses' on de side. And
he raise a world of rice and 'taters and corn and peanuts, too.
"When de work slight, us black folks sho have de balls and dinners and
sech. We git all day to barbecue meat down on de bayou and de white
folks come down and eat long side de cullud.
"When a black gal marry, Marse marry her hisself in de big house. He
marry 'em Saturday, so dey git Sunday off, too. One time de river boat
come bearin' de license for niggers to git marry with. Marse chase 'em
off and say, 'Don't you come truckin' no no-count papers roun' my
niggers. When I marry 'em, dey marry as good as if de Lawd God hisself
marry 'em and it don't take no paper to bind de tie.' Marse don't stand
no messin' 'round, neither. A gal have to be of age and ask her pa and
ma and Marse and Missy, and if dey 'gree, dey go ahead and git marry.
Marse have de marry book to put de name down.
"One time Marse take me 'long to help tote some chillen. He done write
up to Virginny for to buy fresh hands. Dey a old man dat hobble 'long de
road and de chillen start to throw rocks and de old man turn 'round to
one prissy one and say, 'Go on, young'un, you'll be where dogs can't
bark at you tomorrow. Nex' mornin' us cookin' in de kitchen and all a
sudden dat li'l boy jes' crumple up dead on de floor. Law, we's scairt.
Nobody ever bother dat old man no more, for he sho' lay de evil finger
on you.
"Marse's brother, Conrad, what was a widdyman, come to live on de
plantation and he had a li'l gal 'bout eight year old. One day she in de
plum orchard playin' with a rattlesnake and Marse Conrad have de fit. De
li'l gal won't let nobody hurt dat snake and she play with him. He won't
bite her. She keeps him 'bout three year, and she'd rub and grease him.
One day he got sick and dey give him some brandy, but he die and old Doc
pickle him in de bottle of brandy. Dat gal git so full of grief dey take
her to de infirm'ry in New Orleans and den one day she up and die.
"Dat snake ain't all what Doc Fawcett pickle. A slave woman give birth
to a baby gal what have two faces with a strip of hair runnin' 'tween.
Old Doc Fawcett pickle it in de jar of brandy. Old doc start to court
Miss Cornelia when Marse die, but she don't have none of him and he
done went straight 'way and kill hisself.
"One day a li'l man come ridin' by on a li'l dun hoss so fast you
couldn't see dat hoss tail a-switchin'. He whoopin' and hollerin'. Us
niggers 'gun whoop and holler, too. Den first thing you know de Yanks
and de Democrats 'gun to fight right dere. Dey a high old mountain front
Marse's house and de Yanks 'gun pepper cannon ball down from de top dat
hill. De war met right dere and dem Yanks and Democrats fit for
twenty-four hours straight runnin'.
"When de bullets starts rainin' down, Marse call us and slip us way back
into de woods, where it so black and deep. Next day, when de fight over,
Marse come out with great big wagons piles full of mess-poke for us to
eat. Dat what us call hog meat. Us sho' glad to 'scape from de Yankees.
"When us driv back to de plantation, sech a sight I never seen. Law, de
things I can tell. Dem Yanks have kilt men and women. I seed babies pick
up from de road with dere brains bust right out. One old man am drawin'
water and a cannon ball shoots him right in de well. Dey draws him up
with de fishin' line. Dey's a old sugar boat out on de bayou with blood
and sugar runnin' long side de busted barrels. 'Lasses run in de bayou
and blood run in de ditches. Marse have de great big orchard on de road
and it wipe clean as de whistle. Bullets wipe up everythin' and bust dat
sugar cane all to pieces. De house sot far back and 'scape de bullets,
but, law, de time dey have!
"Dey's awful, awful times after dat. A old cotton dress cost five
dollars and a pound of coffee cost five dollars and a pint cup flour
cost six bits. De Yanks 'round all de time and one day they comes right
in de house where Miss Cornelia eatin' her dinner. Dey march 'round de
table, jes' scoopin' up meat and 'taters and grabbin' cornpone right and
left. Miss Cornelia don't say a word, jes' smile sweet as honey-cake. I
reckon dem sojers might a took de silver and sech only she charm 'em by
bein' so quiet and ladylike. First thing you know dem sojers curtsy to
Missy and take dereself right out de door and don't come back.
"Den it seem like Marse have all de trouble in de world. He boy, Ned,
die in de war and William, what name for he pa, drink bad all de time.
And after de war dem Ku Kluxers what wear de false faces try to tinker
with Marse's niggers. One day Uncle Dave start to town and a Kluxer ask
him where am he pass. Dat Kluxer clout him but Uncle Dave outrun him in
de cane. Marse grab de hoss and go 'rest dat man and Marse a jedge and
he make dat man pay de fine for hittin' Uncle Dave. After dey hears of
dat, dem old poky faces sho' scairt of old Marse and dey git out from
Opelousas and stays out. When me and my husband, John, come to Texas de
folks say dat Louisiana masters de meanes' in de world and I say right
back at 'em dat dey is good and mean in every spot of de earth. What
more, de Louisiana masters free dere niggers a year befo' any Texas
nigger git free.
"When 'mancipation come, Marse git on de big block and say, 'You all is
as free as I is, standin' right here. Does you want to stay with me, you
can, and I'll pay you for de work.' All de niggers cheer and say dey
want to stay, but Marse die not long after and all us niggers scatter.
"I sho' 'lect dat day old Marse die. He won't die till ma gits there. He
keep sayin', "Where's Charity, tell Charity to come." Dey fotch ma from
de cane patch and she hold Marse's hand till he die. Us niggers went to
de graveyard and us sho' cry over old Marse.
"Marse's brother, Goldham, carries all he hands back to de free country
to turn 'em loose. He say de free country am de ones what's yellin'
'bout slave times, so dey could jes' take care of de niggers. Marse
Goldham so big dat when he stand in de door you couldn't git by him,
'thout he stand sideways.
"Law, times ain't like dey was in slave days. All my ten chillen is dead
and my old man gone, and now I reckon my time 'bout 'rive. All I got to
do now am pray de Lawd to keep me straight, den when de great day come,
I can march de road to glory.
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Carlotte Beverley
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Jack Bess
