CHAPTER II.
BUYING A SLAVE.
Mrs. Wingfield did talk the matter over with the overseer, and thingswent on in consequence more smoothly. Vincent, however, adhered to hiswish, and it was arranged that as soon as he could get a nomination heshould go to West Point, which is to the American army what Sandhurstand Woolwich are to England. Before that could be done, however, a greatpolitical agitation sprang up. The slave States were greatly excitedover the prospect of a Republican president being chosen, for theRepublicans were to a great extent identified with the abolitionmovement; and public feeling, which had for some time run high, becameintensified as the time approached for the election of a new president,and threats that if the Democrats were beaten and a Republican electedthe slave States would secede from the Union, were freely indulged in.
In Virginia, which was one of the most northern of the slave States,opinion was somewhat divided, there being a strong minority against anyextreme measures being taken. Among Vincent's friends, however, who werefor the most part the sons of planters, the Democratic feeling was verystrongly in the ascendant and their sympathies were wholly with theSouthern States. That these had a right to secede was assumed by them asbeing unquestionable.
But, in point of fact, there was a great deal to be said on both sides.The States which first entered the Union in 1776 considered themselvesto be separate and sovereign States, each possessing power and authorityto manage its own affairs, and forming only a federation in order toconstruct a central power, and so to operate with more effect againstthe mother country. Two years later the Constitution of the UnitedStates was framed, each State giving up a certain portion of itsauthority, reserving its own self-government and whatever rights werenot specifically resigned.
No mention was made in the Constitution of the right of a State tosecede from the Union, and while those who insisted that each State hada right to secede if it chose to do so declared that this right wasreserved, their opponents affirmed that such a case could never havebeen contemplated. Thus the question of absolute right had never beensettled, and it became purely one of force.
Early in November, 1860, it became known that the election of Mr.Lincoln, the Republican candidate, was assured, and on the 9th of thatmonth the representatives of South Carolina met at Charleston, andunanimously authorized the holding of a State convention to meet on thethird week in December. The announcement caused great excitement, for itwas considered certain that the convention would pass a vote ofsecession, and thus bring the debated question to an issue. Althoughopinion in Virginia was less unanimous than in the more southern States,it was generally thought that she would imitate the example of SouthCarolina.
On the day following the receipt of the news, Vincent, who had riddenover to the plantations of several of his friends to talk the matterover, was returning homeward, when he heard the sound of heavy blowswith a whip, and loud curses, and a moment later a shrill scream in awoman's voice rose in the air.
Vincent checked his horse mechanically with an exclamation of anger. Heknew but too well what was going on beyond the screen of shrubs thatgrew on the other side of the fence bordering the road. For a moment hehesitated, and then muttering, "What's the use!" was about to touch thehorse with the whip and gallop on, when the shriek again rose louder andmore agonizing than before. With a cry of rage Vincent leaped from hishorse, threw the reins over the top of the fence, climbed over it in amoment, and burst his way through the shrubbery.
Close by, a negro was being held by four others, two having hold of eachwrist and holding his arms extended to full length, while a white lad,some two years Vincent's senior, was showering blows with a heavy whipupon him. The slave's back was already covered with weals, and the bloodwas flowing from several places. A few yards distant a black girl, witha baby in her arms, was kneeling on the ground screaming for mercy forthe slave. Just as Vincent burst through the bushes, the young fellow,irritated at her cries, turned round and delivered a tremendous blowwith the whip on her bare shoulders.
This time no cry came from her lips, but the slave, who had stoodimmovable while the punishment was being inflicted upon himself, made adesperate effort to break from the men who held him. He wasunsuccessful, but before the whip could again fall on the woman'sshoulders, Vincent sprang forward, and seizing it, wrested it from thehands of the striker. With an oath of fury and surprise at this suddeninterruption, the young fellow turned upon Vincent.
"You are a coward and a blackguard, Andrew Jackson!" Vincent exclaimed,white with anger. "You are a disgrace to Virginia, you ruffian!"
Without a word the young planter, mad with rage at this interference,rushed at Vincent; but the latter had learned the use of his fists athis English school, and riding exercises had strengthened his muscles,and as his opponent rushed at him, he met him with a blow from theshoulder which sent him staggering back with the blood streaming fromhis lips. He again rushed forward, and heavy blows were exchanged; thenthey closed and grappled. For a minute they swayed to and fro; butalthough much taller, the young planter was no stronger than Vincent,and at last they came to the ground with a crash, Vincent uppermost,Jackson's head as he fell coming with such force against a low stumpthat he lay insensible.
The contest had been so sudden and furious that none had attempted tointerfere. Indeed the negroes were so astonished that they had not movedfrom the moment when Vincent made his appearance upon the scene. The ladrose to his feet.
"You had better carry him up to the house and throw water on him," hesaid to the negroes, and then turned away. As he did so, the slave whohad been flogged broke from the others, who had, indeed, loosened theirhold, and ran up to Vincent, threw himself on his knees, and taking thelad's hand pressed it to his lips.
"I am afraid I haven't done you much good," Vincent said. "You will benone the better off for my interference; but I couldn't help it." Sosaying he made his way through the shrubbery, cleared the fence,mounted, and rode homeward.
"I have been a fool," he said to himself as he rode along. "It will beall the worse for that poor beggar afterward; still I could not help it.I wonder will there be any row about it. I don't much expect there will,the Jacksons don't stand well now, and this would not do them any goodwith the people round; besides I don't think Jackson would like to gointo court to complain of being thrashed by a fellow a head shorter thanhimself. It's blackguards like him who give the Abolitionists a right tohold up the slave-owners as being tyrants and brutes."
The Jacksons were newcomers in Virginia. Six years before, the estate,of which the Cedars, as their place was called, formed a part, was put upfor sale. It was a very large one, and having been divided into severalportions to suit buyers, the Cedars had been purchased by Jackson, who,having been very successful as a storekeeper at Charleston, had decidedupon giving up the business and leaving South Carolina, and settlingdown as a landowner in some other State. His antecedents, however, weresoon known at Richmond, and the old Virginian families turned a coldshoulder to the newcomer.
Had he been a man of pleasant manners, he would gradually have made hisway; but he was evidently not a gentleman. The habits of trade stuck tohim, and in a very short time there were rumors that the slaves, whom hehad bought with the property, found him a harsh and cruel master. Thisin itself would have been sufficient to bring him into disrepute inVirginia, where as a rule the slaves were treated with great kindness,and, indeed, considered their position to be infinitely superior to thatof the poorer class of whites. Andrew Jackson had been for a few monthsat school with Vincent; he was unpopular there, and from the rumorscurrent as to the treatment of the slaves on the estate was known by thenickname of the "slave-driver."
Had Vincent been the son of a white trader, or a small cultivator, heknew well enough that his position would be a very serious one, and thathe would have had to ride to the border of the State with all speed. Hewould have been denounced at once as an Abolitionist, and would havebeen accused of stirring up the slaves to rebellion agai
nst theirmasters; a crime of the most serious kind in the Southern States. Butplaced as he was, as the heir of a great estate worked by slaves, such acry could hardly be raised against him. He might doubtless be fined andadmonished for interfering between a master and his slave; but thesympathy of the better classes in Virginia would be entirely with him.Vincent, therefore, was but little concerned for himself; but he doubtedgreatly whether his interference had not done much more harm than goodto the slave and his wife, for upon them Andrew Jackson would vent hisfury. He rode direct to the stables instead of alighting as usual at thedoor. Dan, who had been sitting in the veranda waiting for him, ran downto the stables as he saw him coming.
"Give the horse to one of the others, Dan, I want to speak to you. Dan,"he went on when he had walked with him a short distance from thestables, "I suppose you know some of the hands on Jackson's plantation."
Dan grinned, for although there was not supposed to be any communicationbetween the slaves on the different estates, it was notorious that atnight they were in the habit of slipping out of their huts and visitingeach other.
"I know some ob dem, Marse Vincent. What you want ob dem? Bery badmaster, Marse Jackson. Wust master hereabout."
Vincent related what had happened, to Dan's intense delight.
"Now, Dan," he went on, "I am afraid that after my interference theywill treat that poor fellow and his wife worse than before. I want youto find out for me what is going on at Jackson's. I do not know that Ican do anything, however badly they treat them; but I have been thinkingthat if they ill-treat them very grossly, I will get together a party offifteen or twenty of my friends, and we will go in a body to Jackson'sand warn him that, if he behaves with cruelty to his slaves, we willmake it so hot for him that he will have to leave the State. I don't saythat we could do anything; but as we should represent most of the largeestates round here, I don't think old Jackson and his son would likebeing sent to coventry. The feeling is very strong at present againstill-treatment of the slaves. If these troubles lead to war, almost allof us will go into the army, and we do not like the thought of thepossibility of troubles among the hands when the whites are all away."
"I will find out all about it for you to-night, sah. I don't suspect datdey will do nuffin to-day. Andrew Jackson too sick after dat knockagainst de tump. He keep quiet a day or two."
"Well, Dan, you go over to-night and find out all about it. I expect Ihad better have left things alone, but now I have interfered I shall goon with it."
Mrs. Wingfield was much displeased when Vincent told her at dinner ofhis incident at Jackson's plantation, and even his sisters were shockedat the interference between a master and his slave.
"You will get yourself into serious trouble with these fanciful notionsof yours," Mrs. Wingfield said angrily. "You know as well as I do howeasy it is to get up a cry against anyone as an Abolitionist, and howdifficult to disprove the accusation; and just at present, when thepassions of every man in the South are inflamed to the utmost, such anaccusation will be most serious. In the present instance there does notseem that there is a shadow of excuse for your conduct. You simply heardcries of a slave being flogged. You deliberately leave the road andenter these people's plantation, and interfere without, so far as I cansee, the least reason for doing so. You did not inquire what the man'soffense was; and he may, for aught you know, have half murdered hismaster. You simply see a slave being flogged, and you assault his owner.If the Jacksons lay complaints against you, it is quite probable thatyou may have to leave the State. What on earth can have influenced youto act in such a mad-brained way?"
"I did not interfere to prevent his flogging the slave, mother, but toprevent his flogging the slave's wife, which was pure wanton brutality.It is not a question of slavery one way or the other. Anyone has a rightto interfere to put a stop to brutality. If I saw a man brutallytreating a horse or a dog, I should certainly do so; and if it is rightto interfere to save a dumb animal from brutal ill-treatment, surely itmust be justifiable to save a woman in the same case. I am not anAbolitionist. That is to say, I consider that slaves on a properlymanaged estate, like ours for instance, are just as well off as are thelaborers on an estate in Europe; but I should certainly like to see lawspassed to protect them from ill-treatment. Why, in England there arelaws against cruelty to animals; and a man who brutally flogged a dog ora horse would get a month's imprisonment with hard labor. I consider ita disgrace to us that a man here may ill-treat a human being worse thanhe might in England a dumb animal."
"You know, Vincent," his mother said more quietly, "that I object asmuch as you do to the ill-treatment of the slaves, and that the slaveshere, as on all well-conducted plantations in Virginia, are welltreated; but this is not a time for bringing in laws or carrying outreforms. It is bad enough to have scores of Northerners doing their bestto stir up mischief between masters and slaves, without a Southerngentleman mixing himself up in the matter. We have got to stand togetheras one people and to protect our State rights from interference."
"I am just as much in favor of State rights as anyone else, mother; andif, as seems likely, the present quarrel is to be fought out, I hope Ishall do my best for Virginia as well as other fellows of my own age.But just as I protest against any interference by the Northerners withour laws, I say that we ought to amend our laws so as not to give themthe shadow of an excuse for interference. It is brutes like the Jacksonswho afford the materials for libels like 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' upon us asa people; and I can't say that I am a bit sorry for having given thatyoung Jackson what he deserved."
"Well, I hope there will be no trouble come of it," Mrs. Wingfield said."I shouldn't think the Jacksons would like the exposure of their doings,which would be caused by bringing the matter into court; but if they do,you may be quite sure that a jury in Richmond at the present time wouldfind against you."
"I don't suppose that they will do anything, mother. But if they must,they must; and I don't suppose anything serious will come of it,anyway."
The next morning Vincent went down early to the stables. As heapproached them Dan came out to meet him.
"Well, Dan, what's your news?"
"Bery great bobbery ober at Jackson's last night, Massa Vincent. Fust ofall I crept round to de huts ob de field hands. Dey all knew nuffinabout it; but one of dem he goes off and gets to hab a talk with a galemployed in de house who was in de habit of slipping out to see him. Shesay when de young un war carried in de old man go on furious; he bringsuit against you, he hab you punished berry much--no saying what he notgoing to do. After a time de young un come round, he listen to what theold man say for some time; den he answer: 'No use going on like dat. Setall de county families against us if we have suit. As to dat infernalyoung villain, me pay him out some other way.' Den de old man say he cutde flesh off de bones ob dat nigger; but de young one say: 'Mustn't dodat. You sure to hear about it, and make great bobbery. Find some oderway to punish him.' Den dey talk together for some time, but girl nothear any more."
"Well, then, there will be no suit anyhow," Vincent said. "As to payingme out some other way, I will look after myself, Dan. I believe thatfellow Jackson is capable of anything, and I will be on the lookout forhim."
"Be sure you do, Massa Vincent. You ride about a great deal, dat fellowbery like take a shot at you from behind tree. Don't you go near datplantation, or sure enuff trouble come."
"I will look out, Dan. There is one thing, I always ride fast; and itwants a very good shot to hit one at a gallop. I don't think they willtry that; for if he missed, as he would be almost sure to do, it wouldbe a good deal worse for him than this affair would have been had hebrought it into court. You keep your ears open, Dan, and find out howthey are thinking of punishing that poor follow for my interference onhis behalf."
After breakfast a negro arrived with a note for Mrs. Wingfield from Mr.Jackson, complaining of the unwarrantable and illegal interference byher son on behalf of a slave who was being very properly punished forgross misconduct; and of t
he personal assault upon his son. The writersaid that he was most reluctant to take legal proceedings against amember of so highly respected a family, but that it was impossible thathe could submit to such an outrage as this.
Although Mrs. Wingfield had expressed her disapproval of Vincent'sconduct on the evening before, there was no trace of that feeling in herreply to this letter. She wrote in the third person, coldlyacknowledging the receipt of Mr. Jackson's letter, and saying that shehad heard from her son of his interference to put a stop to one of thosebrutal scenes which brought discredit upon the Southern States, and thatshe considered he had most rightly punished Mr. Jackson, Jr., for hisinhuman and revolting conduct; that she was perfectly aware theinterference had been technically illegal, but that her son was fullyprepared to defend his conduct if called upon to do so in the courts,and to pay any fine that might be inflicted for his suffering himself tobe carried away by his righteous indignation. She ended by saying thatas Mr. Jackson was a stranger in Virginia, he was perhaps not aware thatthe public sentiment of that State was altogether opposed to such actsof brutality as that of which his son had been guilty.
"What have you been doing to that fellow Andrew Jackson?" one ofVincent's friends, a young fellow two years older than himself, said tohim a few days later. "There were a lot of us talking over thingsyesterday, in Richmond, and he came up and joined in. Something was saidabout Abolitionists, and he said that he should like to see everyAbolitionist in the State strung up to a tree. He is always prettyviolent, as you know; but on the present occasion he went further thanusual, and then went on to say that the worst and most dangerousAbolitionists were not Northern men, but Southerners, who were traitorsto their State. He said: 'For example, there is that young Wingfield. Hehas been to England, and has come back with his head filled withAbolitionist notions;' and that such opinions at the present time were adanger to the State.
"Two or three of us took the matter up, as you might guess, and told himhe had better mind what he was saying or it would be the worse for him.Harry Furniss went so far as to tell him that he was a liar, and that ifhe didn't like that he could have satisfaction in the usual way. MasterJackson didn't like it, but muttered something and slunk off. What's thematter between you?"
"I should not have said anything about it," Vincent replied, "if Jacksonhad chosen to hold his tongue; but as he chooses to go about attackingme, there is no reason why I should keep the matter secret." And he thenrelated what had taken place.
The young Virginian gave a low whistle.
"I don't say I blame you, Wingfield; but I tell you, you might have gotyourself into an awful mess if the Jacksons had chosen to take it up.You know how hot the feeling is at present, and it is a serious matterat any time to interfere between a master and his slaves in the SouthernStates. Of course among us our feelings would be all against Jackson;but among the poorer class of whites, who have been tremendously excitedby the speeches, both in the North and here, the cry of Abolitionist atthe present moment is like a red rag to a bull. However, I understandnow the fellow's enmity to you.
"None of us ever liked him when he was at school with us. He is anevil-tempered brute, and I am afraid you may have some trouble with him.If he goes about talking as he did to us, he would soon get up a feelingagainst you. Of course it would be nonsense to openly accuse a member ofan old Virginian family of being an Abolitionist; but it would be easyenough to set a pack of the rough classes of the town against you, andyou might get badly mauled if they caught you alone. The fellow isevidently a coward, or he would have taken up what Furniss said; but acoward who is revengeful is a good deal more dangerous than an open foe.However, I will talk it over with some of the others, and we will see ifwe can't stop Andrew Jackson's mouth."
The result of this was that the next day half a dozen of Vincent'sfriends wrote a joint letter to Andrew Jackson, saying that theyregarded his statements respecting Vincent as false and calumnious, andthat if he repeated them they would jointly and severally hold himresponsible; and that if, as a result of such accusations, any harmhappened to Vincent, they should know where to look for the originatorof the mischief, and punish him accordingly.
"You should be more careful, Andrew," his father said, as, white withfury, he showed him his letter. "It was you who were preaching prudencethe other day and warning me against taking steps that would set all thecounty families against us; and now, you see, you have been letting yourtongue run, and have drawn this upon yourself. Keep quiet for thepresent, my son; all sorts of things may occur before long, and you willget your chance. Let this matter sleep for the present."
A day or two later when Vincent went down to the stables he saw that Danhad something to tell him and soon found out that he wished to speak tohim alone.
"What is your news, Dan?"
"I heard last night, Marse Vincent, dat old man Jackson is going to sellDinah; dat de wife ob de man dey flogged."
"They are going to sell her!" Vincent repeated indignantly. "What arethey going to do that for?"
"To punish Tony, sah. Dar am no law against dar selling her. I hear datdey are going to sell two oder boys, so dat it cannot be said dat dey doit on purpose to spite Tony. I reckon, sah, dey calculate dat when deysell his wife Tony get mad and run away, and den when dey catch himagain dey flog him pretty near to death. Folk always do dat with runawayslaves; no one can say nuffin agin dem for dat."
"It's an infamous shame that it should be lawful to separate man andwife," Vincent said. "However, we will see what we can do. You manage topass the word to Tony to keep up his spirits, and not let them drive himto do anything rash. Tell him I will see that his wife does not getinto bad hands, I suppose they will sell the baby too?"
"Yes. Marse Vincent. Natural the baby will go wid de modder."
Vincent watched the list of advertisements of slaves to be sold, and aday or two later saw a notice to the effect that Dinah Moore, agetwenty-two, with a male baby at her breast, would be sold on thefollowing Saturday. He mounted his horse and rode into Richmond. He hadnot liked to speak to his mother on the subject, for she had not toldhim of the letter she had written to Jackson; and he thought that shemight disapprove of any interference in the matter, consequently he wentdown to Mr. Renfrew, the family solicitor.
"Mr. Renfrew," he said, "I want some money; can you lend it me?"
"You want money," the solicitor said in surprise. "What on earth do youwant money for? and if you want it why don't you ask your mother for it?How much do you want?"
"I don't know exactly. About eight hundred dollars, I should think;though it may be a thousand. I want to buy a slave."
"You want to buy a slave!" repeated Mr. Renfrew. "What on earth do youwant to buy a slave for? You have more than you want now at theOrangery."
"It's a slave that man Jackson is going to sell next Saturday, onpurpose to spite the poor creature's husband and drive him todesperation," and Vincent then repeated the whole story of thecircumstances that had led up to the sale.
"It is very abominable on the part of these Jacksons," Mr. Renfrew said,"but your interference was most imprudent, my young friend; and as yousee, it has done harm rather than good. If you are so quixotic as tobecome the champion of every ill-treated slave in the State, your workis pretty well cut out for you."
"I know that, sir," Vincent replied, smiling, "and I can assure you Idid not intend to enter upon any such crusade; but, you see, I havewrongly or rightly mixed myself up in this, and I want to repair themischief which, as you say, I have caused. The only way I can see is tobuy this negress and her baby."
"But I do not see that you will carry out your object if you do,Vincent. She will be separated just as much from her husband if you buyher as if anyone else does. He is at one plantation and she is atanother, and were they ten miles apart or a hundred, they are equallyseparated."
"I quite see that, Mr. Renfrew; but, at least she will be kindlytreated, and his mind will be at rest on that score. Perhaps some day orother the Jacksons ma
y put him up for sale, and then I can buy him, andthey will be reunited. At any rate, the first step is to buy her. Canyou let me have the money? My mother makes me a very good allowance."
"And I suppose you spend it," the lawyer interrupted.
"Well, yes, I generally spend it; but then, you see, when I come of ageI come in for the outlying estates."
"And if you die before, or get shot, or any other accident befalls you,"Mr. Renfrew said, "they go to your sisters. However, one must risksomething for a client, so I will lend you the money. I had better putsomebody up to bid for you, for after what has happened the Jacksonswould probably not let her go if they knew that you were going to be thepurchaser."
"Thank you very much," Vincent said warmly; "it will be a great weightoff my mind," and with a light heart he rode back to the Orangery.
Vincent said nothing during the next two days to any of his friends asto the course the Jacksons were taking in selling Tony's wife; for hethought that if the news got about, some one of his friends who hadheard the circumstances might go down to the auction and make such ademonstration that Jackson would be obliged to withdraw Dinah from thesale, in which case he could no doubt dispose of her privately. On theSaturday he mounted his horse and rode into Richmond, telling Dan tomeet him there. At the hour the sale was announced he went to the yardwhere it was to take place.
This was a somewhat quiet and secluded place; for although the sale ofslaves was permitted by law in Virginia, at any rate these auctions wereconducted quietly and with as little publicity as possible. For althoughthe better classes still regarded slavery as a necessary institution,they were conscious that these sales, involving as they did theseparation of families, were indefensible, and the more thoughtful wouldgladly have seen them abolished, and a law passed forbidding the sale ofnegroes save as part and parcel of the estate upon which they worked, anexception only being made in the case of gross misconduct. Many of theslave-owners, indeed, forbade all flogging upon their estates, andpunished refractory slaves, in the first place, by the cutting off ofthe privileges they enjoyed in the way of holidays, and if this did notanswer, threatened to sell them--a threat which was, in the vastmajority of cases, quite sufficient to insure good behavior; for theslaves were well aware of the difference between life in thewell-managed establishments in Virginia and that in some of the otherSouthern States. Handing his horse to Dan, Vincent joined a knot of fouror five of his acquaintances who had strolled in from mere curiosity.
There were some thirty or forty men in the yard, a few of whom had comein for the purpose of buying; but the great majority had only attendedfor the sake of passing an idle hour. Slaves had fallen in value; foralthough all in the South professed their confidence that the law wouldnever attempt by force of arms to prevent their secession, it was feltthat slave property would in future be more precarious, for the Northwould not improbably repeal the laws for the arrest of fugitive slaves,and consequently all runaways who succeeded in crossing the border wouldbe lost to their masters.
Upon the other side of the yard Vincent saw Andrew Jackson talking totwo or three men who were strangers to him, and who, he guessed, werebuyers from some of the more southern States. There were in all twelvelots to be disposed of. Of these two or three were hands who were nolonger fit for field work, and who were bought at very low prices by menwho owned but a few acres of land, and who could utilize them for oddjobs requiring but little strength. Then there was a stir of attention.Dinah Moore took her stand upon the platform, with her baby in her arms.The message which Dan had conveyed from Vincent to her husband had givenher some hope, and though she looked scared and frightened as sheclasped her babe to her breast, she was not filled with such utterdespair as would otherwise have been the case.
The auctioneer stated the advantages of the lot in the same businesslike tone as if he had been selling a horse.
"Lot 6. Negro wench, Dinah; age twenty-two; with male child. Strong andwell made, as you see, gentlemen; fit for field work, or could be made auseful hand about the house; said to be handy and good-tempered. Nowgentlemen, what shall we say for this desirable lot?"
One of the men standing by Andrew Jackson bid a hundred dollars. The bidwas raised to a hundred and fifty by a rough-looking fellow standing infront of the platform. For some time the bidding was confined to thesetwo, and it rose until it reached seven hundred and fifty, at whichpoint the man near the platform retired, and there was a pause.
Vincent felt uncomfortable. He had already been round to Mr. Renfrew,who had told him that he had deputed an agent to buy; and until the mannear the platform stopped he had supposed that he was the solicitor'sagent.
"Now, gentlemen," the auctioneer said, "surely you are not going to letthis desirable piece of property go for seven fifty? She would be cheapat double the price. I have sold worse articles for three thousand."
"I will go another twenty-five dollars," a tall man in homespun and aplanter's broad straw hat said quietly.
The contest now recommenced, and by bids of twenty-five dollars at atime the amount was raised to twelve hundred and fifty dollars.
"That's enough for me," the man standing by Andrew Jackson said; "he mayhave her at twelve fifty, and dear enough, too, as times go."
"Will anyone else make an offer?" the auctioneer asked. There was noresponse, and the hammer fell.
"What name?"
"Nathaniel Forster," the tall man said; and advancing to the table hecounted out a roll of notes and gave them to the auctioneer, who handedto him a formal note certifying to his having legally purchased DinahMoore and her infant, late the property of Andrew Jackson, Esquire, ofthe Cedars, State of Virginia.
The purchaser had evidently made up his mind beforehand to secure thelot, for he handed a parcel he had been holding to Dinah, and saidbriefly, "Slip those things on, my lass."
The poor girl, who had before been simply attired in the scantiest ofpetticoats, retired to a corner of the yard, and speedily came forwardagain dressed in a neat cotton gown. There were several joking remarksmade by the bystanders, but Dinah's new master took no notice of them,but with a motion of his hand to her to follow him, walked out of theyard.
A minute later Vincent followed, and although he had no doubt that theman was the agent Mr. Renfrew had employed, he did not feel thoroughlysatisfied until he saw them enter the lawyer's office. He quicklyfollowed. They had just entered the private room of Mr. Renfrew.
"That's right, Wingfield," the lawyer said. "You see we have settled thebusiness satisfactorily, and I think you have got a fairly cheapbargain. Just wait a minute and we will complete the transaction."
Dinah gave a start as Vincent entered, but with the habitualself-repression of a slave, she stood quietly in the corner to which shehad withdrawn at the other end of the room.
The lawyer was busy drawing up a document, and, touching a bell, ordereda clerk to go across to Mr. Rawlins, justice of the peace, and ask himto step across the road.
In a minute Mr. Rawlins entered.
"I want you to witness a deed of sale of a slave," Mr. Renfrew said."Here are the particulars: 'Nathaniel Forster sells to Vincent Wingfieldhis slave, Dinah Moore and her male infant, for the sum of fourteenhundred dollars.' These are the parties. Forster, sign this receipt."
The man did so. The justice put his signature as witness to thetransaction, dropped into his pocket the fee of five dollars that thelawyer handed to him, and without a word strolled out again.
"There, Dinah," Mr. Renfrew said, "Mr. Wingfield is now your master."
The girl ran forward, fell on her knees before Vincent, seized his handand kissed it, sobbing out her thanks as she did so.
"There, that will do, Dinah," the lawyer said, seeing that Vincent wasconfused by her greeting. "I think you are a lucky girl, and have made agood exchange for the Orangery instead of the Cedars. I don't supposeyou will find Mr. Wingfield a very hard master. What he is going to dowith you I am sure I don't know."
Vincent now went to
the door and called in Dan and told him to takeDinah to the Orangery, then mounting his horse he rode off home toprepare his mother for the reception of his new purchase.