Albert Hill
From:
Texas
ALBERT HILL, 81, was born a slave of Carter Hill, who owned a
plantation and about 50 slaves, in Walton Co., Georgia. Albert
remained on the Hill place until he was 21, when he went to
Robinson Co., Texas. He now lives at 1305 E. 12th St., Fort Worth,
Texas, in a well-kept five-room house, on a slope above the Trinity
River.
"I was born on Massa Carter Hill's plantation, in Georgia, and my name
am Albert Hill. My papa's name was Dillion, 'cause he taken dat name
from he owner, Massa Tom Dillion. He owned de plantation next to Massa
Hill's, and he owned my mammy and us 13 chillen. I don't know how old I
is, but I 'members de start of de war, and I was a sizeable chile den.
"De plantation wasn't so big and wasn't so small, jus' fair size, but it
am fixed first class and everything am good. We has good quarters made
out of logs and lots of tables and benches, what was made of split logs.
We has de rations and massa give plenty of de cornmeal and beans and
'lasses and honey. Sometimes we has tea, and once in a while we gits
coffee. And does we have de tasty and tender hawg meat! I'd like to see
some of dat hawg meat now.
"Massa am good but he don't 'low de parties. But we kin go to Massa
Dillion's place next to us and dey has lots of parties and de dances. We
dances near all night Saturday night, but we has to stay way in de back
where de white folks can't hear us. Sometimes we has de fiddle and de
banjo and does we cut dat chicken wing and de shuffle! We sho' does.
"I druv de ox, and drivin' dat ox am agitation work in de summer time
when it am hot, 'cause dey runs for water every time. But de worst
trouble I ever has is with one hoss. I fotches de dinner to de workers
out in de field and I use dat hoss, hitched to de two-wheel cart. One
day him am halfway and dat hoss stop. He look back at me, a-rollin' de
eye, and I knows what dat mean--'Here I stays, nigger.' But I heered to
tie de rope on de balky hosses tail and run it 'twixt he legs and tie to
de shaft. I done dat and puts some cuckleburrs on de rope, too. Den I
tech him with de whip and he gives de rear back'ards. Dat he best rear.
When he do dat it pull de rope and de rope pull de tail and de burrs
gits busy. Dat hoss moves for'ard faster and harder den what he ever
done 'fore, and he keep on gwine. You see, he am trying git 'way from he
tail, but de tail am too fast. Course, it stay right behin' him. Den I's
in de picklement. Dat hoss am runnin' away and I can't stop him. De
workers lines up to stop him but de cart give de shove and dat pull he
tail and, lawdy whoo, dat hose jump for'ard like de jackrabbit and go
through dat line of workers. So I steers him into de fence row, and
dere's no more runnin', but an awful mix-up with de hoss and de cart and
de rations. Dat hoss so sceered him have de quavers. Massa say, 'What
you doin'?' I says, 'Break de balk.' He say, 'Well, yous got everything
else broke. We'll see 'bout de balk later.'
Massa has de daughter, Mary, and she want to marry Bud Jackson, but
massa am 'gainst it. Bud am gwine to de army and dat give dis boy work,
'cause I de messenger boy for him and Missy Mary. Dey keeps company
unbeknownst and I carry de notes. I puts de paper in de hollow stump.
Once I's sho' I's kotched. Dere am de massa and he say, 'Where you been,
nigger?' I's sho' skeert and I says, 'I's lookin' for de squirrels.' So
massa goes 'way and when I tells you I's left, it ain't de proper word
for to 'splain, 'cause I's flew from here.' I tells Missy Mary and she
say, 'You sho' am de Lawd's chosen nigger.'
"De 'federate soldiers comes and dey takes de rations, but de massa has
dug de pit in de pasture and buried lots of de rations, so de soldiers
don't find so much. De clostest battle was Atlanta, more dan 25 mile
'way.
"When de war come over, Bud Jackson he come home. De massa welcome him,
to de sprise of everybody, and when Bud say he want to marry Missy Mary,
massa say, 'I guesses you has earnt her.'
"When freedom am here, massa call all us together and tells us 'bout de
difference 'tween freedom and hustlin' for ourselves and dependin' on
someone else. Most of de slaves stays, and massa pays them for de work,
and I stays till I's 21 year old, and I gits $7.00 de month and de
clothes and de house and all I kin eat. De massa have died 'fore dat,
and dere am powerful sorrow. Missy Mary and Massa Bud has de plantation
den, and dey don't want me to go to Texas. But dey goes on de visit and
while dey gone I takes de train for Robinson County, what am in Texas.
"I works at de pavin' work and at de hostlin' work and I works on de
hosses. Den I works for de Santa Fe railroad, handlin' freight, and I
works till 'bout three year ago, when I gits too old for to work no
more.
"But I tells you 'bout de visit back to de old plantation. I been gone
near 40 year and I 'cides to go back, so I reaches de house and dere am
Missy Mary peelin' apples on de back gallery. She looks at me, and she
say, 'I got whippin' waiting for yous, 'cause you run off without
tellin' us.' Dere wasn't no more peelin' dat day, 'cause we sits and
talks 'bout de old times and de old massa. Dere sho' am de tears in dis
nigger's eyes. Den we talks 'bout de nigger messenger I was, and we
laughs a little. All day long we talks a little, and laughs and cries
and talks. I stays 'bout two weeks and seed lots of de folks I knowed
when I was young, de white folks and de niggers, too.
"I's too old to make any more visits, but I would like to go back to Old
Georgia once more. If Missy Mary was 'live, I'd try, but she am dead, so
I tries to wait for old Gabriel blow he horn. When he blow he horn, dis
nigger say, 'Louder, Gabriel, louder!'
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Phoebe Henderson
