"Well, suh, you all wants me to tell you 'bout slave times, and I'll tell you first dat I had mighty good white folks, and I hope dey is gone up to Heaven. My mama 'long to Marse John Cardwell, what I hear was de riches' man and had de bigges' plantation round Concord Depot. Dat am in Campbell County, in Virginny. I don't 'member old missy's name, but she mighty good to de slaves, jes' like Marse John was.
"Mama's name was Isabella and she was de cook and born right on de plantation. Papa's name was Gibson, his first name was Jim, and he 'long to Marse Gibson what had a plantation next to Marse John, and I knows papa come to see mama on Wednesday and Sat'day nights.
"Lemme see, now, dere was six of us chilluns. My mem'ry ain't so good no more, but Charley was oldes', den come Dolly and Jennie and Susie and me and Laura. Law me, I guess old Dr. Bass, what was doctor for Marse John, use to be right busy with us 'bout once a year for quite a spell.
"Dem times dey don't marry by no license. Dey takes a slave man and woman from de same plantation and puts 'em together, or sometime a man from 'nother plantation, like my papa and mama. Mamma say Marse John give 'em a big supper in de big house and read out de Bible 'bout obeyin' and workin' and den dey am married. Course, de nigger jes' a slave and have to do what de white folks say, so dat way of marryin' 'bout good as any.
"But Marse John sho' was de good marse and we had plenty to eat and wear and no one ever got whipped. Marse John say iffen he have a nigger what oughta be whipped, he'd git rid of him quick, 'cause a bad nigger jes' like a rotten 'tater in a sack of good ones—it spoil de others.
"Back dere in Virginny it sho' git cold in winter, but come September de wood gang git busy cuttin' wood and haulin' it to de yard. Dey makes two piles, one for de big house and de bigges' pile for de slaves. When dey git it all hauled it look like a big woodyard. While dey is haulin', de women make quilts and dey is wool quilts. Course, dey ain't made out of shearin' wool, but jes' as good. Marse John have lots of sheep and when dey go through de briar patch de wool cotch on dem briars and in de fall de women folks goes out and picks de wool off de briars jes' like you picks cotton. Law me, I don't know nothin' 'bout makin' quilts out of cotton till I comes to Texas.
"Course I never done no work, 'cause Marse John won't work no one till dey is fifteen years old. Den dey works three hours a day and dat all. Dey don't work full time till dey's eighteen. We was jes' same as free niggers on our place. He gives each slave a piece of ground to make de crop on and buys de stuff hisself. We growed snap beans and corn and plant on a light moon, or turnips and onions we plant on de dark moon.
"When I gits old 'nough Marse John lets me take he daughter, Nancy Lee, to school. It am twelve miles and de yard man hitches up old Bess to de buggy and we gits in and no one in dat county no prouder dan what I was.
"Marse John lets us go visit other plantations and no pass, neither. Iffen de patterroller stop us, we jes' say we 'long to Marse John and dey don't bother us none. Iffen dey comes to our cabin from other plantations, dey has to show de patterroller de pass, and iffen dey slipped off and ain't got none, de patterroller sho' give a whippin' den. But dey waits till dey off our place, 'cause Marse John won't 'low no whippin' on our place by no one.
"Well, things was jes' 'bout de same all de time till jes' 'fore freedom. Course, I hears some talk 'bout bluebellies, what dey call de Yanks, fightin' our folks, but dey wasn't fightin' round us. Den one dey mamma took sick and she had hear talk and call me to de bed and say, 'Lucinda, we all gwine be free soon and not work 'less we git paid for it.' She sho' was right, 'cause Marse John calls all us to de cookhouse and reads de freedom papers to us and tells us we is all free, but iffen we wants to stay he'll give us land to make a crop and he'll feed us. Now I tells you de truth, dey wasn't no one leaves, 'cause we all loves Marse John.