William Byrd
From:
Texas
WILLIAM BYRD, 97, was born a slave of Sam Byrd, near Madisonville,
Texas. William was with his master during the Civil War. The old
Negro is very feeble, but enjoyed talking about old times. He lives
in Madisonville.
"I has a bill of sale what say I's born in 1840, so I knows I's
ninety-seven years old, and I's owned by Marse Sam Byrd. My mother's
name was Fannie and I dunno pappy's name, 'cause my mother allus say she
found me a stray in the woods. I allus 'lieves my master was my pappy,
but I never did know for sho'.
"Our quarters was log and the bed built with poles stuck in the cracks
and cowhide stretched over, and we'd gather moss 'bout once a month and
make it soft. When it was real cold we'd git close together and I don't
care how cold it got, we'd sleep jes' as warm as these here feather
beds.
"I split rails and chopped cotton and plowed with a wooden plow and druv
Marse Byrd lots, 'cause he was a trader, slave trade most the time. He
was good to us and give us lots to eat. He had a big garden and plenty
sugar cane, and brown sugar. We'd press the juice out the cane 'tween
two logs and cook it in the big washpot.
"We had sheepskin clothes in cold weather, with the fur part inside, no
shoes less'n we wropped our feet in fur hides. But them clothes was
warmer than these here cotton overalls. They're plumb cold!
Marse Sam was full of life and Missus Josie was real good. They had a
nice home of that day, made out split logs and four rooms and a hall two
ways through it.
"That great iron piece hung jes' outside the door and Marse Sam hit it
at 3:30 every mornin'. If we didn't muster out he come round with that
cat-o-nine-tails and let us have it, and we knowed what that bell was
for nex' mornin'. Sometimes when Marse Sam was gone, we'd have a
overseer. He'd let us go swimmin' in the creek when the work was done.
"If a nigger was mean Marse Sam give him fifty licks over a log the
first time and seventy-five licks the second time and 'bout that time he
most gen'rally had a good nigger. If they was real mean and he couldn't
do nothin' with 'em, he put them in the jail with a chain on the feets
for three days, and fed 'em through a crack in the wall.
"On Christmas Marse Sam had a great big eggnog and kilt a big beef and
had fireworks, and the nigger, he know Christmas was come. We had plenty
to eat and eggnog and did 'bout what we pleased that day and New Year's.
The white folks allus said what we'd do on them days we'd do all year.
That's all foolishment, but some still believes in it.
"They give a big dance and all night supper when war started. Then Marse
Sam, he carries me for waterboy and cook and to tend his hosses. He had
two, and rid one this day and the other nex' day. He was 'fraid one git
kilt and then he wouldn't be slam a-foot.
"When them big guns went to poppin', I jes' couldn't stand it without
gittin' in a brush top. Then marse goes and gits shot and I has to be
his nuss. But, Lawd-a-me, one them Yankee gals, she falls in love with
marse whilst he lays nearly dead, and she say, 'William, he's mine, so
you got to take good care of him.' And him with a plumb good wife back
home!
"When Marse Sam git well, he say he's goin' to 'nother place to fight.
He was with General Lee when that old war was over and that there Yankee
General Grant takes General Lee prisoner, and Marse Sam won't leave his
general, and he say to me, 'William, you got to go home alone.'
"I lights out a-foot to Texas and it's most a year befo' I gits home. I
travels day and night at first. I buys some things to eat but every time
I goes by a farmhouse I steals a chicken. Sometimes I sho' gits hongry.
When I git to the house, Missus Josie faints, 'cause she thunk Marse Sam
ain't with me and he mus' be dead. I tells her he's in prison and she
say she'll give me $2.00 a month to stay till he gits back. I's plumb
crazy 'bout a little gal called 'Cricket,' 'cause she so pert and full
of live, so I stays. We gits us a cabin and that's all to our weddin'.
We stays a year befo' Marse Sam comes back.
"He was the plumb awfulest sight you ever done seed! His clothes is tore
offen his body and he ain't shaved in three months and he's mos' starved
to death. Missus Josie she don't even rec'nize him and wouldn't 'low him
in till I tells her dat am Marse Sam, all right. He stays sick a whole
year.
"I thinks if them Yankees didn't 'tend to fix some way for us pore
niggers, dey oughtn't turn us a-loose. Iffen de white folks in de South
hadn't been jes' what they is, us niggers been lots worser off than we
was. In slavery time when the nigger am sick, his master pay de bills,
but when nigger sick now, that's his own lookout.
"I never done nothin' but farm and odd jobs. I been married five times,
but only my las' wife am livin' now. My four boys and two gals is all
farmin' right here in the county and they helps us out. We gits by
somehow.
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Henry H Buttler