Lewis Bonner
Age 87 yrs.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Page 17-19
I was born 7 miles north of Palestine, Texas on Matt Swanson’s place in
1850, but I kin not remember the date. My mistress was name Celia Swanson. My mistress was so good
to me till I jest loved her.
My family and all slaves on our place was treated good. Mighty few
floggings went on ‘round and about. Master was the overseer over his darkies and didn’t use no
othet’n. I waited table and churned in the Big House.
I ate at the table with my mistress and her family and nothing was ever
said. We ate bacon, greens, Irish potatoes and such as we git now. Aunt chaddy was the cook and
nurse for all the chillun on the place.
We used to hear slaves on de other places hollering from whippings, but
master never whipped his niggers ‘less they lied. Sometimes slaves from other places would run off
and come to our place. Master would take them back and tell the slave-holders how to treat them so
dey wouldn’t run off again.
Mistress had a little stool for me in the big house, and if I got sleepy,
she put me on the foot of her bed and I stayed there til morning, got up washed my face and hands
and got ready to wait on the table.
There was four or five hundered slaves on our place. One morning during
slavery, my father killed 18 white men and ran away. They said he was lazy and whipped him, and he
just killed all of ‘em he could, which was 18 of ‘em. He stayed away 3 years without being
found, He came back and killed 7 before they could kill him. When he was on the place he jest made
bluing.
My mother worked in the field and weaved cloth. Shirts dat she made
lasted 12 months, even if wore and washed and ironed every day. Pants could not be ripped with two
men pulling on dem with all their might. You talking ‘bout clothes, them was some clothes then.
Clothes made now jest don’t come up to them near abouts.
Doing of slavery, we had the best church, lots better than today. I am a
Baptist from head to foot, yes sir, yes sir. Jest couldn’t be nothing else. In the first place, I
wouldn’t even try.
I knows when the war started and
ceaseted. I tell you it was some war.
When it was all over, the Yankees come thoo’ singing. “You May die poor but you won’t die a
slave.”
When the War was over, master told us that we could go out and take care
of the cropes already planted and plant the ones that need planting ‘cause we knowed all ‘bout
the place and we would go halvers. We stayed on 3 years after slavery. We got a little money, but we
got room and board and didn’t have to work to hard. It was enough differences to tell you was no
slaves any more.
After slavery and when I was old enough I got married. I married a gal
that was a daughter of her master. He wanted to own her, but she sho’ didn’t return it. He kept
up with her till he died and sent her money jest all the time. Before he died, he put her name in
his will and told his oldest son to be sure and keep up with here. The son was sure true to his
promise, for till she died, she was forever hearing from him or he would visit us,, even after we
moved to Oklahoma from Texas.
Our chillun and grandchillun will get her part since she is gone. She was
sure a good wife and for no reason did I take the second look at no woman. That was love, which
don’t live no more in our hearts.
I make a few pennies selling fish worms and doing a little yard work and
raising vegetables. Not much money in circulation. When I gets my old age pension, it will make
things a little mite better. I guess the time will be soon.
Tain’t nothing but bad treatment that makes people die young and I
ain’t had none.
