University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.
THE SLAVE-SPECULATOR.

Dick Jennings the slave-speculator, was one of the few Northern
men, who go to the South and throw aside their honest mode of obtaining
a living and resort to trading in human beings. A more repulsive-looking
person could scarcely be found in any community of bad looking
men. Tall, lean and lank, with high cheek-bones, face much pitted
with the small-pox, gray eyes with red eyebrows, and sandy whiskers,
he indeed stood alone without mate or fellow in looks. Jennings
prided himself upon what he called his goodness of heart, and was
always speaking of his humanity. As many of the slaves whom he
intended taking to the New Orleans market had been raised in Richmond,
and had relations there, he determined to leave the city early in
the morning, so as not to witness any of the scenes so common on the
departure of a slave-gang to the far South. In this, he was most successful;
for not even Isabella, who had called at the prison several times to
see her mother and sister, was aware of the time that they were to
leave.

The slave-trader started at early dawn, and was beyond the confines
of the city long before the citizens were out of their beds. As a slave
regards a life on the sugar, cotton, or rice plantation as even worse than
death, they are ever on the watch for an opportunity to escape. The
trader, aware of this, secures his victims in chains before he sets out on
his journey. On this occasion, Jennings had the men chained in pairs,
while the women were allowed to go unfastened, but were closely
watched.

After a march of eight days, the company arrived on the banks of the
Ohio River, where they took a steamer for the place of their destination.
Jennings had already advertised in the New Orleans papers, that he

would be there with a prime lot of able-bodied slaves, men and women,
fit for field-service, with a few extra ones calculated for house-servants,
—all between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five years; but like most
men who make a business of speculating in human beings, he often
bought many who were far advanced in years, and would try to pass them
off for five or six years younger than they were. Few persons can
arrive at anything approaching the real age of the negro, by mere observation,
unless they are well acquainted with the race. Therefore, the
slave-trader frequently carried out the deception with perfect impunity.

After the steamer had left the wharf and was fairly out on the bosom
of the broad Mississippi, the speculator called his servant Pompey to him;
and instructed him as to getting the negroes ready for market. Among
the forty slaves that the trader had on this occasion, were some whose
appearance indicated that they had seen some years and had gone
through considerable service. Their gray hair and whiskers at once
pronounced them to be above the ages set down in the trader's advertisement.
Pompey had long been with Jennings, and understood his
business well, and if he did not take delight in the discharge of his
duty, he did it at least with a degree of alacrity, so that he might receive
the approbation of his master.

Pomp, as he was usually called by the trader, was of real negro blood,
and would often say, when alluding to himself, “Dis nigger am no counterfeit,
he is de ginuine artikle. Dis chile is none of your haf-and-haf,
dere is no bogus about him.”

Pompey was of low stature, round face, and, like most of his race,
had a set of teeth, which, for whiteness and beauty, could not be surpassed;
his eyes were large, lips thick, and hair short and woolly.
Pompey had been with Jennings so long, and had seen so much of
buying and selling of his fellow-creatures, that he appeared perfectly
indifferent to the heart-rending scenes which daily occurred in his presence.
Such is the force of habit:—

It was on the second day of the steamer's voyage, that Pompey selected
five of the oldest slaves, took them into a room by themselves,
and commenced preparing them for the market.

“Now,” said he, addressing himself to the company, “I is de chap
dat is to get you ready for de Orleans market, so dat you will bring
marser a good price. How old is you?” addressing himself to a man
not less than forty.

“If I live to see next sweet-potato-digging time, I shall be either
forty or forty-five, I don't know which.”

“Dat may be,” replied Pompey; “but now you is only thirty years
old,—dat's what marser says you is to be.”

“I know I is more den dat,” responded the man.

“I can't help nuffin' about dat,” returned Pompey; “but when you
get into de market and any one ax you how old you is, and you tell um
you is forty or forty-five, marser will tie you up and cut you all to
pieces. But if you tell um dat you is only thirty, den he won't. Now
remember dat you is thirty years old and no more.”

“Well den, I guess I will only be thirty when dey ax me.”

“What's your name?” said Pompey, addressing himself to another.

“Jeems.”

“Oh! Uncle Jim, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Den you must have all them gray whiskers shaved off, and all dem
gray hairs plucked out of your head.” This was all said by Pompey
in a manner which showed that he knew what he was about.

“How old is you?” asked Pompey of a tall, strong-looking man.
“What's your name?”

“I am twenty-nine years old, and my name is Tobias, but they calls
me Toby.”

“Well, Toby, or Mr. Tobias, if dat will suit you better, you are now
twenty-three years old; dat's all,—do you understand dat?”

“Yes,” replied Toby.

Pompey now gave them all to understand how old they were to be
when asked by persons who were likely to purchase, and then went
and reported to his master that the old boys were all right.

“Be sure,” said Jennings, “that the niggers don't forget what you
have taught them, for our luck this time in the market depends upon
their appearance. If any of them have so many gray hairs that you
cannot pluck them out, take the blacking and brush, and go at them.”