Martin Ruffin, 83, was born a slave of Josh Perry, near old Port Cadde, on Cadde Lake. He stayed with his master until 1876, then lived with his parents on the farm until 1880. He then moved to Marshall, Texas, where he cooked for hotels and cafes until 1932. Since he has been unable to work, the Red Cross has helped him, and he draws a $12.00 monthly old age pension.
"I's born right here in Harrison County, on Josh Perry's plantation, what was right near Port Cadde, on the lake. I was only eleven year old when the niggers was freed.
"Will Ruffin was my daddy and he come from North Car'lina. Mammy was Cynthia and was born in Texas. I wasn't big enough to tote water to the field when war started, but I driv up the cows and calves and helped tend massa's chillen.
"Massa Perry had more'n a thousand acres in his place and so many niggers it looked like a little town. The niggers lived in rough houses, 'cause they so many he had to make 'em live most anyway.
"The growed slaves et cornbread and bacon and 'lasses and milk, but all the chillen got was milk and bread and a little 'lasses. Massa have fifteen or twenty women carding and weaving and spinning most all the time. Each nigger had his task and the chillen gathered berries in the weeds to make dyes for clothes. Us wore only white lowell clothes, though. They was sho' thick and heavy.
"The overseer was named Charley and there was one driver to see everyone done his task. If he didn't, they fixed him up. Them what fed the stock got up at three and the overseer would tap a bell so many times to make 'em git up. The rest got up at four and worked till good dark. They'd give us a hundred lashes for not doing our task. The overseer put five men on you; one on each hand, one on each foot, and one to hold your head down to the ground. You couldn't do anything but wiggle. The blood would fly 'fore they was through with you.
"When I's a li'l fellow, I seed niggers whipped in the field. Sometimes they'd take 'em behind the big corn crib and fix 'em up.
"Slaves sold for $250 to $1,500. Sometimes they swapped 'em and had to give 'boot.' The 'boot' was allus cash.
"Sam Jones preached to us and read the Bible. He told us how to do and preached Hell-fire and jedgment like the white preachers. Us had service at our church when one of us died and was buried in our own graveyard.
"The niggers sung songs in the field when they was feeling good and wasn't scart of old massa. Sometime they'd slack up on that hoe and old massa holler, 'I's watchin' yous.' The hands say, 'Yas, suh, us sees you, too.' Then they brightened up on that hoe.
"Corn shuckings was a big occasion them days and massa give all the hands a quart whiskey apiece. They'd drink whiskey, get happy and make more noise than a little, but better not git drunk. We'd dance all night when the corn shuckin' was over.
"I heared the cannons rumbling at Mansfield all through the night during the war. It was dark and smoky all round our place from the war. I stood there on Massa Perry's place and seed soldiers carry 'way fodder, and meat and barrels of flour to take to war.
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"Massa didn't tell us we was free for three or four days after freedom. Then he said, 'You is free; don't leave, I'll pay you.' The niggers didn't know what he meant at first, then someone say, 'We is free--no more whippings and beatings.' You ought to see 'em jump and clap their hands and pop them heels.
"My daddy and mammy left and went to a farm to work for theyselves, but I stayed till I was near 'bout growed. Then I stayed with daddy and mammy and then came to Marshall. Weeds was mostly here then. I cooked all round town for 'bout fifty years. I didn't marry till I's forty-two. I was working at the Capitol Hotel for $15.00 a week. Rube Witt, a cullud Baptist preacher, married me and Lula Downs and us raises five chillen.
"My wife is dead and I ain't been able to work for five years. The relief and the Red Cross carried me till I got my pension and I's sho' thankful to git that $12.00 a month."