The Two Sams: Men of the West. F. M. Worden
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than sixty men were sold before the older ones came up. The first sold for five hundred.
Then the one he had looked at was on the block. First bid. One hundred, second, one fifty, then two hundred. Sam blurted out two fifty. The auctioneer cried for more. “This old buck has many more years in his old body. He knows more about cotton and animals than all the others put together.” He couldn’t get any more bids. “Going, going, gone to man in the black hat.” Sam had made a purchase of a slave. He felt total remorse about buying another human.
A short skinny man came and poked Sam. “Come with me you gotta pay for your old nigger.” Sam followed him to the counter inside the building. The man behind the counter said, “So you got an old one, good luck.”
Just then a rope was given Sam. In a gruff voice the man handing Sam the rope said, “Good luck! I’m a bet-en this old bastard dies before you get him home.” Sam’s temper got the best of him. “Get that rope off his neck and take the chains off him, do it NOW!”
“What! Hell he’ll run the first chance he gets.” The gruff one said.
“Hell, he’s so weak he can hardly lift his head. A fine bunch of ass-holes you people are. I wouldn’t treat a dog this way!” Sam was mad. Every blood vessel stood out on his face and neck.
“These ain’t people you son of a bitch,” the man said in a sneer. “They’re just niggers.” Sam in a fit of rage, drew back his right fist, it hit the loud mouth square on the nose. The blood fairly flew.
With blood freely flowing, “You broke my nose you dirty son-of-a-bitch,” the man cried. Sam drew his fist back again. Before he could let go, someone grabbed the bloody one and rushed him out the door to a water trough.
The man behind the counter handed Sam a bill of sale. “Get this old bastard out of here now. We don’t want no trouble,” he said in a loud voice.
Sam turned to the black man and said, “Follow me.” Out of the building, down the wood sidewalk to the wagon yard. There he told the old one, “Get in the wagon.”
Now the old one as he climbed in the wagon, spoke for the first time. “Master,” he said, “I knows you’s a good man, I can see’s it. I works this old body to the bone. I’z a never run a way, if-n you’s help me!”
“Help you, what do you want?”
“Master, did you see the woman in the grey dress?” The old one was trembling, as he spoke.
“I did. Why?”
“She’s my woman. We... we be together long time, can’s you’s buy her? She’s a good field hand, picks more cotton than any them young bucks and she’s with chill-en.” The old mans eyes were red and tears began to fill them. He was begging Sam.
“How do you know she’s with child, she don’t look that way to me.” Sam was looking for some assurance. “She knows, she told me so. We’ze done had two chill-en together.”
“Where are they now?”
“Kin’t rightly say, they was sold for house chill-en.” The old one said as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “White folk like little nigger chill-en . They keep- em to play with their chill-en. They been gone a long time. I needs this woman-I needs this woman,” he was begging. “Please Master can you’s see’s to get her? She won’t sell for much.”
Sam thought for a moment. I have some money left he said to himself.
“Please wont’s you’s try?” the old man was pleading again.
“Get in the wagon and stay put, I’ll go try. I can’t promise but I’ll try.”
Sam once more entered the building and on to the sale yard. He got some bad looks from some of the auction men. He didn’t see the one he had hit.
The young girls were on the block. The bidding was going crazy. Sam was amazed the kind of money being paid for these young black girls. They were bringing thousands of dollars.
He sat on the same bench. Stone was still there. He said with a smile, “Heard you got some trouble, at the counter.”
“Not much.”
The last of the young girls went up on the block and were sold. Stone got up and left. Now the one Sam came for was on the block. No bids. She looked terrible. In a dirty grey dress, more of a rag than a dress. She was bare footed, stood with her head down, never looking up. Blood streamed down her hands from her tied wrists. There was no reason for anyone to buy this woman.
The auctioneer was screaming for a bid. Sam let him scream. Still, no bids. Sam watched the crowd. It had thinned out quite a bit, still no bids and then Sam bid. “One hundred dollars.”
“Sold to the man in the black hat.” Sam was surprised he got her so cheap. He headed to the counter, paid the money, got his bill of sale. He was handed the neck rope. This time the gruff one backed away saying, “No trouble, I don’t want no trouble.”
Sam lifted the rope off her neck, tossed it to the man and said to the black woman, “Follow me.”
A man standing in the door said, “Watch her she’ll run off.”
Sam gave him a dirty look and showed him a clinched fist. Sam was uncomfortable with this whole business of buying slaves. To have some white numbskull say something made him mad. The man backed away. No more was said, any way not to this man. Sam had the look of a man of fixed conviction.
At the wagon yard, no words were passed between the two blacks but their looks told Sam all he needed to know. For the first time a smile broke the two black faces.
“We better hurry, it’ll be dark soon and we have a long way to go.” He hitched up the mules and turned them toward the front gate. He was looking down below the seat. He said, “There should be three sacks here, I see only two.”
He turned to the black man and asked, “Did you see two or three sacks?”
“Only two,” the black said as he showed two fingers.
Sam stopped the wagon, hopped down and entered the livery stable. “You the owner?” he spoke in a harsh tone to the man standing there. “Yeah, what’s the trouble?” The man seemed unconcerned.
“I have a sack missing from my wagon. I want it back, right now!” Any blind man could see he was mad.
“Okay, okay, if it’s here, we’ll find it. If it ain’t, too damn bad.” The man said and shrugged his shoulders.
“Too damn bad for you,” Sam said and opened his coat to show the handle of his pistol.
“OKAY, OKAY. Hey boy,” he yelled to a little black boy standing in the door of the tack room. “You seen this mans sack?”
“I ain’t see’d nutt-n’. I ain’t see-d no sack,” the little boy called back.
Just then another older black boy came from the harness room, holding a sack and asked, “Is this it?”
“That’s it.” He took the sack and returned to the wagon.
The three started the trip home. Sam Duncan had purchased two black slaves. A man and a woman.
Chapter 3
Slave Owner
Sam and his blacks drove on thru town to the south road. They drove for over an hour. No words were passed between Sam and his newly purchased blacks. The sun was starting to set.
Sam announced, “We must stop and fix something to eat. I’m hungry, I ain’t had nothing since this morning.”
Finding an open spot in the trees, he pulled the mules off the road. Getting down he tied the mules to a nearby tree, retrieved two nose bags and slipped them on the mules. During this time the black