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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Eliab Hill," said Le Moyne, when they came at length to the subject in relation to which the interview had been solicited, "was born the slave of Potem Desmit, on his plantation Knapp-of-Reeds, in the lower part of the county. His mother was a very likely woman, considerable darker than he, but still not more than a quadroon, I should say.
"Wal, I 'clar, now, jes de quarest ting ob 'bout all dis matter o' freedom is de way dat it sloshes roun' de names 'mong us cullud folks. H'yer I lib ober on de Hyco twenty year er mo' nobody but ole Marse Potem an' de Lor', an' p'raps de Debble beside, know 'zackly how long it mout hev been an' didn't hev but one name in all dat yer time.
"His name's Desmit," said a white man, the sheriff of the county, who stood leaning over the railing; "used to belong to old Potem Desmit, over to Louisburg. Mighty good nigger, too. I s'pec' ole man Desmit felt about as bad at losing him as ary one he had." "Powerful good hand in terbacker," said Mr. Glass, who was himself an expert in "yaller leaf." "Ther' wasn't no better ennywhar' round."
"Well, well," said the sheriff good-naturedly, "I won't never fault ye for that, but they do say you're the only man, white er black, that ever got ahead of Potem Desmit in a trade yet. How's that, Nimbus?" "I paid him all he axed," said the colored man, evidently flattered by this tribute to his judgment as to the value of Red Wing.
"Her papers dat you gib her at de hirin', Marse Potem," said Nimbus, "says dat yer shall pay her fo' dollars a month an' rations. She's hed de rations all reg'lar, Marse Desrnit; dat's all right, but not a dollar ob de money." "You lie, you black rascal!" said Desmit excitedly; "she's drawn every cent of it!" "Wal," said Nimbus, "ef dat's what yer say, we'll hev ter let de 'Bureau' settle it."
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