Harrison Beckett

Harrison Beckett , a rather small man was seated on a chair on the front porch of 1270 Gladys Street, Beaumont, Tex. He was formerly the slave of Mr. I.D. Thomas of San Augustine, Texas. Vest, shirt and trousers of dark material, dingy in appearance, showed considerable wear. A greatgrandson about one year old played around his chair, or climbed into his lap. His dark face lit up with a smile, and he chuckled as he told of watermelon incidents of his boy-hood days. At times he showed the trait, common among some negroes, of using big words-perhaps of his own coining-which lent an added interest to his story."I's 'mong de culls now like a hoss what is too old."I was pretty small when 'mancipation come. I didn't have no hard work to do but de old marster had me an' de rest of de li'l niggers to keep de stock outer de fields. We li'l boogers uster hafter run an' keep de cows outer de corn an' cotton patch. Dat orter been 'nough to keep us out of debblement. "It come to pass dat my mudder work in de field. Sometimes she come in nine or ten 'clock at night outer de field. She be all wore out an' it be so dark she too tired to cook lots of times, but she hafter git some food so we could eat it. Every one had a tin pan. We all git 'round de table and she put it in de pans an' we eat. Us all 'round de table like dat was like a feast. Lots of times though she so tired she go right to bed soon's she git through cooking 'thout eatin' nuthin' herself, an' she go right to sleep. "One time de boss man told me to hoe in de garden. He had a pretty big garden- 'bout a acre. Dey was other li'l niggers out dere hoein' too. After while we git down to where de watermillions was. We git us some watermillions an' take 'em out in de brush. We hit dem watermillions wid us fis' an' iffen us couldn' break 'em dataway, us pick 'em up an' drap 'em 'til dey bus' an' den us eat. One of de boys yell 'O-o-o dere master' an' sho' 'nough he kotch us not workin', but eatin' he million. When my daddy come in dat night marster tol' him 'bout me eatin' dem watermillion an' make daddy whip me. He whip me wid a big old hoss whip. Dat was to put fear in me. Dat wid me to-day an' it well me from doin' wrong. I don't do nothin' wrong today. Sometime somebody say 'Yonder a calf in de field'. When de marster see de tracks on de groun' he know dat calf git in when we was doin' our debblements, an' dat night when us git in us sho git it cross de back. "Lots of times dey send us to de field to mind de calfs an' keep 'em outer de patch. If de calf git in de field while we eatin' dem watermillions dey whip us. Sometimes one of de boys look up an' see a cloud of dust, an' den he let out a yell, 'cause he know de calf in de patch or mebby old marster comin on a hoss. "Mr. I.D. Thomas he owned my daddy an' mother too. Daddy name was Isaac Thomas an' mamma name Cynthia Thomas . After freedom come papa went back to his own father's name-what it was in Floredy-an' dat was Beckett . Dat was 'bout ten year after 'mancipation. Yes, he go back to Floredy an' fin' out what he people was an' got de real name. Dat how come us got a different name from Thomas. My mammy people was de Polkses in Georgy. "I hear 'em say dat in slavery time when a young feller an' a gal want to git marry dey go before de marster an' tell him. He tell 'em. 'All right, jine yo' hands'. Den he tell 'em dey's married. An' dey had to stay so, too. Dey didn't have de way of doin' den like what dey has now. Iffen de man break de marriage dey stake him out an' whip him. Iffen de woman tuck a notion she ain't want dat man, an' left him, dey'd sell 'er. "Ole marster at times was jis' as good an' kind as a overseer could be. He had partiality 'bout him, he would'nt whip his niggers 'thout a cause. "Most de time dey whip wid one of dem long keen switch. It never bruised our back, but it sho' could sting. when dey git real and dey pull up yo' shirt an' whip you on de bare hide. One time when dey ketch me an' was whippin' me, I bus' de button an' come outer it an' run away. I try to out-run him, an' dat tickle him. But I sho' give de groun' fits wid my feet. But dem whippin's dey done good. It break me up from thievin' an' make a man outer me. "De way dey dress up us li'l nigger boys dem times, dey give us a shirt what come way down 'tween your knees or ankles. When de weather git cold dey give us pants. "My sisters was Ellen , an' Sani , an' Georgi-Ann , an' Cindy , an' Sidi-Ann . Dey was all big 'nuff to work in de field. My brothers, dey names was Matthew , an' Ed , an' Henry , an' Harry , (dat's me). Oh yes, de oldest one was name General Thomas . Dey was all name Thomas after old marster. Den, 'sides dem, I had sev'ral half-brother an' half-sisters. "Marster live right in Augustine, right in de heart of town. I can't give de name of de county. Pa left dere when I eight year old, an' I never kept de necessary name. Maybe it was Sabine County. I dunno how it runs. "I's close to 80 year old as near as I kin git at it. I don't 'member no sojers In de las' war (Civil War) mamma see de light over 'bout Mansfield, an' she call us chillen to see. It look like de sun risin'. You couldn't see de fire but you could see de 'pearance of it in de sky. "Old marster have two gals what names I 'members. Dey was Miss Tody an' Miss Neppie . Dey was de oldest ones; I dis'member de rest. Dey was two boys too, Little Ide an' Mr. Jimmie . Dey bofe went to de war. Little Ide he went to de War up in Arkansas. Dey uster say dat when de fus' cannon busted in de War at Little Rock, Arkansas, he start runnin' an' never stop 'til he git back home. I don't see how he could do dat, 'cause Little Rock's way far off, but dat what dey uster say. Dey was more boys in de family, but I jes' can't place 'em. "Dey sen' out men to git 'Serters (deserters). Sometimes dey was five an' six in de crew. Dey git little Ide an' take him back. Mr. Jimmie he didn't break de ranks. He stood his ground. I thought Ide would'a done better dan Mr. Jimmie , but he didn't. "Old marster he live in a one story plank house. Seems to me like it was painted but de red dirt turn it red. "Marse Thomas he was a big wholesale merchant. He git kill in New Orleans. A big box of freight goods fall on him. De box was 'bout one yard square on de end an 'bout six yards long. Dey was some goods dat dey sent him an' he was carryin' back 'cause he didn't like de grade. He want better stuff. Dey was pullin' up de box wid a pulley an' rope an' it seem like he step under de box, an' de box fall on him an' kill him. De folks in New Orleans say it was a accident but de rest say de rope was cut. One of old marster friends in Augustine was Lawyer Brookes . He uster firmanize de word. (Probably "firminize" meant to execute oaths of affirmation). "Dey was over one hundred head of black folks supply old marster's farms. He had two farms an' I reckon dey was hundred to a hundred an' fifty acres in each one of 'em. One of de farms was in iron ore, dat red lan' an' de udder was in gray lan' sorter half an' half sand an' black dirt. "De slaves live in pole houses. Some of 'em live in split log house, near as I kin determine. Dem houses had two rooms, one for to sleep in an' one to cook in. Dey had windows in 'em but dey wasn't no glass windows. Dey was made outer plank. "Dey had jack beds to sleep on. Dey was made outer poles. Dey was make like a scoffol' an' have four legs. Dey weren' built into de wall. "Old marster he cared for his hands pretty well considerin' everything. In de ginnin' time he 'lowed de wimmin to pick up de cotton what drop on de groun' and make into beds, an' quilts an' comforts. "He buy some cloth, an' make some cloth on de place. Dey was a woman to weave de cloth at de loom, but she was so slow. Lots of time de shickle (shuttle) jump out on de floor an' I pick it up. Dey have cards an' make bats outer de raw cotton. Dey make jes' 'bout everything. I uster could knit socks. I knowed how to hol' de needles an' de thread. I was jes' a li'l boy den, but I kept everything in 'membrance. "Dey uster have white preachers what come 'round an' preach. Dey have a tabernacle like a arbor. Cullud people from all 'round come to hear de gospel 'spounded. Sometime dey was five hundred of 'em. Sometime he sot de day for de monthly meeting. De preacher he want all de folks, white an dullud, to come an' be dere. Dey keep dat up 'long time. Naw sir, de old time way was better dan what dey has dese times. "Nost every farm have a cullud man l'arning to preach. 'Cose dey couldn't read de Bible, but dey pay 'tention to de white preacher when he come 'round an' some of 'em done good at it. My grampa uster claim to be a preacher. "Dey has things now more generalize, more correcter dan what dey uster be, both white an' black, an' it look like things oughter be a lot better. But it sho' ain't dat way. I never see things so tore up like what dey is now. It look to me like it behind slavery time. Yessir, it fifty per cent or mo' wusser dan it uster be den. "I uster b'long to de Methodist church. Now I belong to de Word, de Church of Christ. I was a steward and class-leader in de Methodism but I done got out dat. "I ain't a member of no lodge but I ji'ned de U.B.F. and de Farmers' Union. I see so many 'flictions dat I disagree. De Farmers Union would' a done better if dey kept de rules. Dat brought on de trouble. De members, dey had to trade 'cording to de obligations wid de union. De Union had a warehouse where dey put de cotton in storage to wait 'til de price git better. But de merchant what let de members of the Union have dey feed an' things, dey say dey want dey money. Dey can't wait. Dey hafter git de bill settle. Den if de cotton goes up dey gits more for it. Den de members hafter trade at de Union store and de merchants say dat if dey let de niggers have supplies and den dey go trade somewheres else it ruin dey business an' dat take 'way dey living. Well, dat's de truf too so dey got to be so much 'fliction dat I quit de Union. But if had'a been carry out right it would'a been a good thing. In dem time when I was in good use I uster make ten or twelve bale of cotton. "Mamma and dem tell me dat when de War was over an' de crops nearly ready to be lay by de boss an' he wife dey call de slaves up in a bunch an' tell 'em, 'You's as free as I is. Keep on or quit if you want to. You don't hafter stay no further, you free today'. Dat was near de Nineteenth of June. All of 'em stay. He say, 'Go 'head an' finish de crop, I feed you on an' pay you'. Dey all knowed dat when he kill de hogs us git plenty of meat. My granpa was overseer on de Smith Green place, overlooker dey call 'em. "He was in love wid a woman on de Thomas place. Dey was a man on de Thomas place name Frank , what want to marry a gal on de Smith place. So dey just swap niggers. Dey have school in de quarters an' de li'l slaves had a chance to learn how to read an' write. Dey teach 'em manners an' behavier too. Sometime dey git a broke-down white man to be de teacher. Dey try not to let de chillun come up so ign'nant. Den dey could use 'em better for dey own purpose. "I don't 'member no Sunday School, only preachin'. De chillun couldn't go 'til dey was train to know if de manner was a violation in de church or not. Dat was follow up after freedom to show 'em where it was too much or not enough. "It took ten or twelve year after freedom to git de black man de qualification way he could handle things. "It was at Woods post office up in Panola County where I fus' hear of de Klu Klux. Dey useter call 'em de "White Caps."  "Creek Vikell was de line 'twixt Panola an' Shelby. Dey move over in Panola County from where dey was. an' ranged at a place what dey call Big Creek Me val 'tween Carthage an' Wood post office, an' by McFaddin Creek. Dey was pretty rough. Too rough in Panola County. De land owners in Panola County tell dey cullud hands not to kill 'em, but to scare 'em 'way. One of de owners was name McDonald. He told 'em he had lots of niggers workin' for him. He tell de han's if de Klu Klux git bad to come an' tell him. Dey uster range but I never meet none. "At night dey come knock on de door an' iffen you don't open de door day pry it open an' run 'em out in de field. Dey run 'em from Merryville to Panola County 'round Longview. Dey was some good in it, an' some bad. "When it fus' flame up I was in Baton Rouge. It start in Georgy but it never bother us dere or in Panola. Us uster work hard, den when we go home we lay down an' res' an' we ain't bodder dem an' dey ain't bodder us. "Dey uster be a nigger 'round dere dey call Bandy Joe . He got kill at Nacogdoches. He could turn into anything what look like a human. De judge of de parish his name was Mr. Lee . He say dey oughtn't kill him, dey ought to let him live so dey could learn his art. "De way dey find out, dey ask his wife how dey kin ketch him. She say she dunno. Sometime dey ketch him an' go 'long with him an' dey holdin' him, an' first thing dey know dey ain't had nothing but he coat. He jes' slip out an' gone an' dey ain't see him but all dey got lef' is his coat. Dey shoot bullets at him an' dey not hurt him. "Iffen he go in a store an' want to buy thing he ax for 'em. Iffen de store man keep him waitin' what he think too long, he take what he want an' put 'em in his wagon an' gone off wid 'em an' nobody ain't see 'em. Well, one night he wife ax him what kinder bullet kill him. He tell her dat de reason dey ain't kill him 'cause dey kin shoot him wid lead bullet or iron bullet or brass bullet. Dey ain't no kind of bullet going to hurt him 'cepting a silver bullet. Dat was de way dey kill him. Dey shoot him wid a silver bullet. I don't see why a man what could like he do, didn't have sense not to tell his wife. I knows I wouldn't have. "Bandy Joe he say he was a spirit an' a human. Iffen he didn't want you to see him you jus couldn't see him. "When he want to go ridin' at nights he git de bes' hoss out de man's lot. He ride dat hoss all night to fo' 'clock. But nobody ain't ever see Bandy Joe come or go. Dey know he been rid though 'cause dey see de hoss all sweaty next morning when dey go to de hoss lot. "Some say he de sharpes' man on earth. He was a noted man. Lots of folks like him. De judge say he wish he could'a been brought in de town so he could 'zamine him 'bout he gifts. He knowed dat iffen he want to go he gone an' nobody see him, an' he like to hear his quotation how he git out his skin. I'd like to know dat myself. "I 'magine I see ghos'es two or three time. I think at de time dey was natural. I uster range 'round an' sometime at night I be gwine home. I uster go through a old slavery filed. Sometimes I overstay my time an' it be late when I go through Old Shuler filed. I ride a mule on de trip. Some of de folks say, 'Harry you better be careful going 'cross dat old filed. Things dere make mules run 'way'. "One night I been out. It was late. I come 'bought eight mile. Dey was a forks in de road way it pass a old house. Down de road 'bout half a mile mule 'most run 'way. I make up my mind I gwine back to see what day was. I see sumpin by de fence like a bear stan' up straight. It stood dere 'bout fifteen or twenty minute 'til I draw my bes' 'pinion (opinion). I didn't git down offen dat mule. De bear ain't stay dere long. When he gone de mule he go off. Well, I ride on down de road to a man's house an' knock. He come out an' I tell him what I see an' ax him 'bout it. he say de place haunted an' he dunno how many wagons an' mules git pull by dat thing at dat place. "I seen a white possum. Dat was a ha'nt. Dat what I determine it to be an' dat what udder folks say. "Den one time I'se livin' on anudder place. It was 'twixt sun down an' dusk. It was jus' 'bout fus' dusk. I had a li'l boy behind me, an' I didn't want him to see what I see. I see a big sow wid no hed a-comin' over de fence. My ma she allus uster tell me iffen I see anything what mought be 'magination to turn your head an' look again, an' iffen it was 'magination you wouldn't see it no more. But when I look agin it still dere. Den I see a hoss goin' on down de road. Dere was a bridge dere an' I see de hoss draggin' a chain. When he git 'cross de bridge he turn off down a side road. When I git dere I look down de side road but I ain't seed no hoss nor nothing. "I wouldn't say nothin' 'bout it to de boy 'til I git most home, den I ax him iffen he see anything. He say, 'No I ain't see nothing'. I wouldn't tell him before 'cause I 'fraid he light out an' out-run me an' leave me behind, an' I ain't want to be by myself with dem things When I git home an' tell 'em an' begin to ax questions dey tell me dat dey was a man name McCoy what was kill dere an' what I see was his spirit. "I don't 'member so many of dem old songs what dey uster sing. I got a red book with lots of 'em in it what somebody fix up. One song dey uster sing was: 'I'm comin', I'm comin' Glory, Hallelujah' "You know how de niggers uster make dem songs right from de heart. "I was 'bout 21 when I git marry. I marry Mandy Green . Us have twelve chillun, seven boy an' five gals. I'se got a world of grandchillun. "I'se travel all over Lou'siana an' Texas. I uster live in Shelby County. I come here three year ago. I had a son what was working in de box factory here. He git a bodily injury while he working dere an' he die an' I come here to de burial an' I been here ever since.