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Texas Slave Narrative

  Delia Barclay

There is lurking good humor in her kindly eyes, though somewhat bedimmed by age. Delia Barclay who has lived most of her life in and around the tiny sawmill town of Hillister is a negress of moderate height, slightly stooped, but still alert in mind and body. Her clean swept yard with pots of growing plants; her well hoed borders of corn; and a half-pieced quilt top beside her rocking chair, indicate industry and thrift. Her greatest pride seems to be in her husband, Jim, now almost bedridden, but to whom she has been married for over 50 years. Delia's memories of slavery times are vivid and pleasant, and her stories of life on the George Kirkwood farm near Colmesneil, reflect the kind treatment of an indulgent master and mistress."Dey was leben 'r' us chillren in d' same fambly 'n' us was neber separated in slay'ry time. I's a big chile w'en freedom come but I neber t' dis day was mistreat 'r' see one 'r' my mudder's chillren git bad licks." "I's bo'n wes' 'r' Colmesneil on d' big farm w'at belong t' George Kirkwood . He had right smart slaves 'sides my mudder 'n' her chillren but I dis'member how many. My mudder's name was Susan . A man by d' name 'r' Jack Bean , who lib t' d' eas', was d' owner 'r' my father. He name' Eleck ." "I was nex' d' bigges' 'r' my mudder's chillren 'n' my chore was t' tek care 'r' all d' littles' chillren down in d' quarters. My mudder was d' cook up in d' house 'n' my big sister was d' nuss gal. I uster rock all d' babies t' sleep singing','Rock a-bye baby In d' tree top,' same like d' folks still sing t' d' babies." "Us uster tie butter weeds at d' top t' mek dolls t' play wid. Dey hab little skirts on dem like little ladies. Den dere was lots 'r' games we play befo' us git big. One game say, 'Doll, doll, Young lady,Doll, doll, All 'roun'.' Atter we sing dis we all tu'n (turn) a-loose han's, clap han's 'n' tu'n 'roun' 'n' 'roun'. Iffen anybudy too slow dey hafter be d' 'it' nex' time." "Anudder game us like was play' by makin' a arch up wid two chillren hol'in' han's. D' uder chillren pass under d' arch in a row 'n' den sometime' dey git kotch 'n' hol' tight. D' song fo' dis game go, 'Winsome lady's gyarden (garden), Back do' (door)'s lock' 'N' d' uder ones prop' Winsome lady's gyarden.' "Us play, 'Crooked man, Ride d' crooked hoss, Under d' crooked crab apple tree.' But dat was a riddle 'r' sumpthin' I dis'member w'at us do wid it." "All d' middle size chillren like d' hoppin' game d' bes'. Us mark out diff'rent plots on d' groun' 'n' den hab a caller. D' chillren tek tu'ns 'n' d' caller sing out, 'Hop light, ladies D' cake's all dough, Ne'mine d' wedder (weather), So's d' win' don' blow.' D' boys 'n' gals hab anuder game w'at dey choose sides fo'. Den dey sing out:

'Lincoln Board, Lincoln Board, Don' fool me. I'll trabble back. I'll trabble back, T' d' gal I lub (love), behin'' me.' D' gal w'at was behin' d' boy den was he gal fo' d' nex' game." "All d' little w'ite 'n' black chillren play togedder. My w'ite folks was good t' all d' people. On'y one 'r' my brudders was big 'nuf t' wuk in d' fiel'. Dey was two mo' famblies on d' place." "D' t'ing I like bes' was w'en dinner time come. Mudder was in d' big house 'n' us didn' do no cookin' in d' quarters. Come time t' eat I go up t' d' kitchen t' git d' food fo' all d' chillren. I carry a flat i'on skillick. Mudder she fill up d' skillick wid all kin's 'r' good t'ings 'n' put it on my head. Ol' mistus she come in d' room 'n' say, 'Susan, you be sho' gib dem chillren plenty.' Atter I git d' skillick on my head I run fas' t'roo d' yard down t' d' quarters. I hab t' run fas' cause d' big geeses in d' yard chase me 'n' tek d' food 'way iffen I don' run. D' chillren clamor 'roun' me w'en us git in d' cabin. I set d' skillick in d' middle 'r' d' flo' (floor) cause us habn' got no table. Den ev'ry chile tek a big wooden spoon 'n' git he share." "On Crissums time d' mistus hab big plate' 'r' tea-cake mek sweet, sweet, fo' d' chillren. W'en dem ready do (though) she brung dem down t' d' quarters herse'f. She 'fraid dat chile-like I eat dem up fo' I git t' d' cabin wid dem." "Mistus was a big hearty gentle woman wid a big voice but kin'. I uster peek out d' cabin do' 'n' watch her come out early in d' mornin' t' dig in her flowers. She lub d' flowers, hab lots 'r' Prince Fedders (feathers), wid red fluffy leaves, 'n' den some rose bush." "Ol' mistus wouldn' 'low no whippin' on d' plantation. She'd bresh her own chillren fastern' d' little cullud chillren. She wouldn' 'low no big wukkin' on Sunday eder." "Sunday was us bigges' day. On Sattidy night Mrase Jack Bean he 'low my father a permit t' come t' see mudder 'n' us chillren. Fadder alays brung sumpthin' fo' all he little shavers w'en he come t' stay ober Sattidy night 'n' Sunday. He brung us sweet 'taters 'n' sweet gum t' chew like chewin' gum is now. I 'member one night he come 'n' I' so 'cited t' see him I run up d' po'ch 'n' got my big toe kotch in d' crack in d' step 'n' mos' pull it off. C'ose dat bre'k up d' merriment fo' w'ile but I soon git over it." "I was purty small w'en my gran'maw die. She 'n' my fadder come from Macon, Gawgia, but my mudder come from 'Sippy (Mississippi). None us people neber had no bad 'busance. Us all gits two suits 'r' clo's 'n' two sets 'r' shoes fo' each year."   Ol' w'ite mistus hab d' folks w'at pick d' cotton outn' d' boll, save all d' motes. All dem motes outn' d' cotton was use fo' mek mattress fo' d' grown slaves but us chilren hab fresh grass in a tick on d' flo' (floor) fo' us beds." "Atter freedom come mos' us didn' want t' move. Lots 'r' d' slaves still stay on d' ol' place but had t' go cause fadder buil' a house fo' us t' lib in. I neber git t' see my ol' mistus no mo'. She die. Us went t' git our ages outn' d' record book on d' plantation but d' big house done bu'n down 'n' all d' papers go too." "I's d' onlies' girl t' stay wid my mudder 'n' father 'til dey die, 'n' I bury two sisters too, I wait' on dem 'til dey lef' yere." "Near's I kin' reckilleck, I's 'bout 23 year ol' w'en I marry on December 13, 51 year ago in d' chu'ch house. Us didn' need no rabbit foot t' keep 'way bad luck cause us marry on d' 13. Jim 'n' me neber hab quit, nor fuss nor fout (fight). Dey's jus' d' two 'r' us now cause us only daughter die 27 year ago. My husban' been porely since las' July but us git 'long some way." "Now dem slav'ry days. Some might 'member mo' cause dey's in it furder dan I was. My mem'ry's kinder short. 'Bout d' on'y songs I kin call at min' (mind) now is 'Amazin' Grace' 'n' some like dat. I do t'ink 'bout one ol' t'ing us uster sing w'at ain' no senseful. It go,'My ol' gray headed mudder, You t'ink you mighty gran', You ain' fitten t' face yo' God, You ain' fitten fo' t' die.'  "Ain' dat foolishment?"

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