My children grew finely; and Dr. Flint would often say to me, with an
exulting smile. “These brats will bring me a handsome sum of money one
of these days.”
I thought to myself that, God being my helper, they should never pass
into his hands. It seemed to me I would rather see them killed than
have them given up to his power. The money for the freedom of myself
and my children could be obtained; but I derived no advantage from that
circumstance. Dr. Flint loved money, but he loved power more. After
much discussion, my friends resolved on making another trial. There was
a slaveholder about to leave for Texas, and he was commissioned to buy
me. He was to begin with nine hundred dollars, and go up to twelve. My
master refused his offers. “Sir,” said he, “she don’t belong to me. She
is my daughter’s property, and I have no right to sell her. I mistrust
that you come from her paramour. If so, you may tell him that he cannot
buy her for any money; neither can he buy her children.”
The doctor came to see me the next day, and my heart beat quicker as he
entered. I never had seen the old man tread with so majestic a step.
He seated himself and looked at me with withering scorn. My children
had learned to be afraid of him. The little one would shut her eyes
and hide her face on my shoulder whenever she saw him; and Benny, who
was now nearly five years old, often inquired, “What makes that bad
man come here so many times? Does he want to hurt us?” I would clasp
the dear boy in my arms, trusting that he would be free before he was
old enough to solve the problem. And now, as the doctor sat there so
grim and silent, the child left his play and came and nestled up by
me. At last my tormentor spoke. “So you are left in disgust, are you?”
said he. “It is no more than I expected. You remember I told you years
ago that you would be treated so. So he is tired of you? Ha! ha! ha!
The virtuous madam don’t like to hear about it, does she? Ha! ha! ha!”
There was a sting in his calling me virtuous madam. I no longer had
the power of answering him as I had formerly done. He continued: “So
it seems you are trying to get up another intrigue. Your new paramour
came to me, and offered to buy you; but you may be assured you will not
succeed. You are mine; and you shall be mine for life. There lives no
human being that can take you out of slavery. I would have done it; but
you rejected my kind offer.”
I told him I did not wish to get up any intrigue; that I had never seen
the man who offered to buy me.
“Do you tell me I lie?” exclaimed he, dragging me from my chair. “Will
you say again that you never saw that man?”