you go so soon?” said the doctor.  “I have been reflecting upon your proposition, and I have concluded to let you have the three negroes if you will say nineteen hundred dollars.”  After some parley, the trader agreed to his terms.  He wanted the bill of sale drawn up and signed immediately, as he had a great deal to attend to during the short time he remained in town.  The doctor went to the jail and told William he would take him back into his service if he would promise to behave himself but he replied that he would rather be sold.  “And you shall be sold, you ungrateful rascal!” exclaimed the doctor.  In less than an hour the money was paid, the papers were signed, sealed, and delivered, and my brother and children were in the hands of the trader.

It was a hurried transaction; and after it was over, the doctor’s characteristic caution returned.  He went back to the speculator, and said, “Sir, I have come to lay you under obligations of a thousand dollars not to sell any of those negroes in this state.”  “You come too late,” replied the trader; “our bargain is closed.”  He had, in fact, already sold them to Mr. Sands, but he did not mention it.  The doctor required him to put irons on “that rascal, Bill,” and to pass through the back streets when he took his gang out of town.  The trader was privately instructed to concede to his wishes.  My good old aunt went to the jail to bid the children good by, supposing them to be the speculator’s property, and that she should never see them again.  As she held Benny in her lap, he said, “Aunt Nancy, I want to show you something.”  He led her to the door and showed her a long row of marks, saying, “Uncle Will taught me to count.  I have made a mark for every day I have been here, and it is sixty days.  It is a long time; and the speculator is going to take me and Ellen away.  He’s a bad man.  It’s wrong for him to take grandmother’s children.  I want to go to my mother.”

My grandmother was told that the children would be restored to her, but she was requested to act as if they were really to be sent away.  Accordingly, she made up a bundle of clothes and went to the jail.  When she arrived, she found William handcuffed among the gang, and the children in the trader’s cart.  The scene seemed too much like reality.  She was afraid there might have been some deception or mistake.  She fainted, and was carried home.

When the wagon stopped at the hotel, several gentlemen came out and proposed to purchase William, but the trader refused their offers, without stating that he was already sold.  And now came the trying hour for that drove of human beings, driven away like cattle, to be sold they knew not where.  Husbands were torn from wives, parents from children, never to look upon each other again this side the grave.  There was wringing of hands and cries of despair.