"How do you feel about it, John?" I asked.
The poor fellow broke down. "It will kill me," he declared. "I'll soon die on that plantation."
All his affectionate, faithful service, all his hardships for our sakes, rushed upon my memory. I bade him put me in communication with the agent. I found that I could save the boy only by buying him! A large sum of gold was named as the price. I unbuckled my girdle and counted my handful of gold—one hundred and six dollars. These I offered to the agent (who was a noted negro trader), and although it was far short of his figures, he made out my bill of sale receipted. Remembered to-day, this seems a wonderful act on my part. At the time it was the most natural thing in the world!
John soon appeared with smiling face and informed me with his thanks that he belonged to me!
"You are a free man, John," I said. "I will make out your papers and I can easily arrange for you to pass the lines."
"I know that," he said. "Marse Roger has often told me I was a free man. I never will leave you till I die. Papers, indeed! Papers nothing! I belong to you—that's where I belong."
All that dreadful winter he was faithful to his promise, cheerfully bearing, without wages, all the privations of the time. Sometimes when the last atom of food was gone, he would ask for money, sally forth with a horse and a light cart, and bring in peas and dried apples. Once a week we were allowed to purchase the head of a bullock, horns and all, from the commissary for the exclusive use of the servants—I would have starved first—and a small ration of rice was allowed us by the government. A one-armed boy, Alick, who had been reared in my father's family, now wandered in to find his old master, and installed himself as my father's servant.
The question that pressed upon me day and night was: "How, where, can I earn some money?" to be answered by the frightful truth that there could be no opening for me anywhere, because I could not leave my children.
One wakeful night, while I was revolving these things, a sudden thought darted, unbidden, into my sorely harassed mind:—
"Why not open the trunk from Washington? Something may be found there which can be sold."