Hagars Daughter | Page 3

his
gang of human cattle in a two-story flat building, surrounded by a stone
wall some twelve feet high, the top of which was covered with bits of
glass, so that there could be no passage over it without great personal
injury. The rooms in this building resembled prison cells, and in the
office were to be seen iron collars, hobbles, handcuffs, thumbscrews,

cowhides, chains, gags and yokes.
Walker's servant Pompey had charge of fitting the stock for the
market-place. Pompey had been so long under the instructions of the
heartless speculator that he appeared perfectly indifferent to the
heart-rending scenes which daily confronted him.
On this particular morning, Walker brought in a number of customers
to view his stock; among them a noted divine, who was considered
deeply religious. The slaves were congregated in a back yard enclosed
by the high wall before referred to. There were swings and benches,
which made the place very much like a New England schoolyard.
Among themselves the Negroes talked. There was one woman who had
been separated from her husband, and another woman whose looks
expressed the anguish of her heart. There was old "Uncle Jeems," with
his whiskers off, his face clean shaven, and all his gray hairs plucked
out, ready to be sold for ten years younger than he was. There was
Tobias, a gentleman's body servant educated at Paris, in medicine,
along with his late master, sold to the speculator because of his
intelligence and the temptation which the confusion of the times
offered for him to attempt an escape from bondage.
"O, my God!" cried one woman, "send dy angel down once mo' ter tell
me dat you's gwine ter keep yer word, Massa Lord."
"O Lord, we's been a-watchin' an' a-prayin', but de 'liverer done fergit
us!" cried another, as she rocked her body violently back and forth.
It was now ten o' clock, and the daily examination of the stock began
with the entrance of Walker and several customers.
"What are you wiping your eyes for?" inquired a fat, red-faced man,
with a white hat set on one side of his head and a cigar in his mouth, of
the woman seated on a bench.
"'Cause I left my mon behin'."

"Oh, if I buy you, I'll furnish you with a better man than you left. I've
got lots of young bucks on my farm," replied the man.
"I don't want anudder mon, an' I tell you, massa, I nebber will hab
anudder mon."
"What's your name?" asked a man in a straw hat, of a Negro standing
with arms folded across his breast and leaning against the wall.
"Aaron, sar."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
"Where were you raised?"
"In Virginny, sar."
"How many men have owned you?"
"Fo."
"Do you enjoy good health?"
"Yas, sar."
"Whipped much?"
"No, sar. I s'pose I didn't desarve it, sar."
"I must see your back, so as to know how much you've been whipped,
before I conclude a bargain."
"Cum, unharness yoseff, ole boy. Don't you hear the gemman say he
wants to zammin yer?" said Pompey.
The speculator, meanwhile, was showing particular attention to the
most noted and influential physician of Charleston. The doctor picked

out a man and a woman as articles that he desired for his plantation,
and Walker proceeded to examine them.
"Well, my boy, speak up and tell the doctor what's your name."
"Sam, sar, is my name."
"How old are you?"
"Ef I live ter see next corn plantin' I'll be twenty-seven, or thirty, or
thirty-five, I dunno which."
"Ha, ha ha! Well, doctor, this is a green boy. Are you sound?"
"Yas, sar; I spec' I is."
"Open your mouth, and let me see your teeth. I allers judge a nigger's
age by his teeth, same as I do a hoss. Good appetite?"
"Yas, sar."
"Get out on that plank and dance. I want to see how supple you are."
"I don't like to dance, massa; I'se got religion."
"Got religion, have you? So much the better. I like to deal in the gospel,
doctor. He'll suit you. Now, my gal, what's your name?"
"I is Big Jane, sar."
"How old are you?"
"Don' know, sar; but I was born at sweet pertater time."
"Well, do you know who made you?"
"I hev heard who it was in de Bible, but I done fergit de gemman's
name."

"Well, doctor, this is the greenest lot of niggers I've had for some time,
but you may have Sam for a thousand dollars and Jane for nine hundred.
They are worth all I ask for them."
"Well, Walter, I reckon I'll take them," replied the doctor.
"I'll put the handcuffs on 'em, and then you can pay me."
"Why," remarked the doctor, "there comes Reverend Pinchen."
"It is