Part 2
No. 19. Rosa, field hand, 16 years of age, a capital girl, well built, good-natured and intelligent. There she stands upon the platform, gazed at by several hundred men. She has to submit, without a murmur, to be examined by the hand of a rough fellow, a slave-driver--a name which I consider equivalent to ‘human butcher.’ Her fine teeth are touched by his bloody fingers; so are her beautiful eyelashes; and when he is handling her beating bosom, oh, reader! mark the just indignation expressed in all her features! Poor Rosa! there is no help for you; there is no salvation. She knows it, and the awful conviction of so crushing a calamity casts her down,--down into the abyss of utter despair. She is sold at last to the highest bidder--to the slave-driver--to the tiger in frock-coat and pants, for $1250.
No. 20. Ben, field hand, 30 years old, for $1150.
No. 21. Isam, a field hand, 40 years old, is not able to bring more than $700, because his youth has gone. Of course, a mule of 18 is worth less than one of 6 years. It is certainly very reasonable to sell an old animal for less than a young one. But, let us see what kind of an animal Isam is? Isam is not a strong man; his health is rather delicate; but his mind is sound. He has not only an inclination toward religion, he is himself a Christian, and he acts on Sundays among his unfortunate fellow-men as a minister of the gospel.
What! A minister of the gospel a brute--to be sold at auction for $700! Is not that a shameful untruth? No barbarian, in whatever part of the globe, will sell at public auction the priest of his faith for any money! Behold, ye nations of Christendom! There is a country which is called a Christian one, in which a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ is sold at public auction like a brute! Will that time never come when such as he shall be sold no more to the highest bidder by the pretended disciples of that Savior who came to break every yoke, and to set every captive free?
No. 22. Yellow Charles, carter and plowman, (has a short leg from infancy,) 27 years of age, is sold for $950,--a very trifling sum. Yes, indeed, trifling for his own natural father--the rich banker--the man of refinement--the gallant ‘defender of liberty.’
No. 23. Sam Bayou, field hand, 32 years old, for $1075.
No. 24. Brown, field hand, 28 years, brings $1200.
No. 25. George, the valorous, 26 years old, strong enough to be a rival to his celebrated namesake, the dragon-killing knight of the middle ages. At least, he is able to kill two alligators in five minutes. George (not the knight) is sold for $1400.
No. 26. Etienne, carter and plowman, 29, sold for $1150.
No. 27. Quacco, plowman and carpenter, a young man of 23, brings $1275.
No. 28. Bob, blind of one eye, plowman and carter, aged 35, brings $850. Why only $850? Because he has but one eye. How did he lose the other? When he was a little boy, he had a sister, a very kind and gentle little girl, whom he dearly loved. One Sunday, they were walking together near the plantation to which they belonged. Beneath an orange tree, covered with red, beautiful, juicy fruits, they sat down upon the grass. Nancy, which was the name of the little girl, dropped silently her head; not a word came from her lips, but large drops fell from her eyes upon the grass. Bob took her hands in his, asking her tenderly, ‘Sis, what is the matter with you? Why will you cry?’ ‘O Bob,’ sobbed she, ‘I am very unhappy--I wish to die.’ ‘Why, Nancy?’ But Nancy gave no answer--all her limbs trembled--her eyes stared in agony towards the sugar-house. A big white boy came running towards them, holding in his hand a large whip. It was Peter, the overseer’s oldest son--the most malicious and cruel young rascal in the parish--the terror of the poor slaves on the plantation.
‘Ay! you black little grasshopper, have I caught you at last!’ cried the young loafer, grasping her by the neck, and throwing her upon the grass. ‘You shall know that I am master, and you are my slave.’ The terror-struck girl made no reply; she only uttered a long, painful groan. Bob, in great excitement, placed himself between his sister and the boy, crying, ‘Oh, master Peter, don’t hurt my sister! No! you shall not hurt my sister!’ At once, the young overseer got into a terrible rage, and crying, ‘Hie, dog of a nigger!’ he struck Bob with the heavy handle of his whip in the face, and the poor boy fell with a single piercing cry to the ground. From that day, Bob had but one eye, and the stripes made by the whip of the overseer upon Bob’s back can be still seen to-day.
No. 29. Charles Yellabusha, field hand, 24 years old, price $1525.
No. 30. Allrick, field hand, age 45. He looks very good-natured; twenty years ago, he was worth $2100, but is sold now for $1025.
No. 31. Jake, good cooper, sugar-maker, and vacuum boiler, 32 years of age. His color is a mingling of yellow and white. His forehead is high, his face intelligent. There is no mistake--plenty of Anglo-Saxon blood is running through his veins. If he had been born in Massachusetts, or in one of the other Free States, in Canada or in Europe, I would bet a hundred dollars against one, he would be a professor, a minister, a doctor, or some kind of a savan, now. If his star had cast him into the empire of France, I should by no means be surprised to see in him a second Alexander Dumas; and if, in that case, he would not be able to write as admirable a story as is ‘The Count of Monté Christo,’ I should despair of finding any sense in a Gall or a Lavater. Well, this second Alexander Dumas is sold at auction for $2625, a sum which he could realize for himself in less than one year, if he were not born in a Slave State.
Who was Jake’s mother? Of course, a mulatto woman, and a slave. Most probably, she has gone to that land where the master and the slave enjoy ‘equal rights.’
But who was her father? There we have a problem, which even the discoverer of the quadrature of the circle can never solve. Perhaps Jake’s grandfather was a ‘rising man,’ and his white grand-children are now celebrated senators and lawgivers.
And who was the father of Jake? Don’t know. But may it not be possible that he was a Governor, or some other big personage? Perhaps, while Jake is being sold at auction to the highest bidder, his natural brothers and sisters are sitting in splendid parlors, or in the drawing-room of some fashionable hotel, ‘up North.’ May not one of Jake’s natural brothers be a Judge of the Supreme Court, and the other a learned minister of the gospel? How does it happen that, while one of the children of the same father is a rich and high-standing favorite of the people, the other child is sold at public auction, like a valuable mule? Can it be the little difference in their color? Well, let the former brother stay for some years in South America, or in some other warm climate, and I am sure his color would show no great difference from that of his brother who is sold at auction. Why, then, shall the one brother be treated as a beast, and the other brother as a gentleman? Can any one of my learned readers solve this problem for me?
No. 32. Willis, field hand, 24 years, sold for $1350--and
No. 32½. Lucy Scott, field hand, 25. She is not placed upon the platform. Why? We cannot say; but the distressed face of the poor woman tells us that she has been sold privately to a personage, of whom they say that he is a member of the church, but who in reality may prove to be a demon.
No’s 33, 34, 35, 36 and 37.
A very good-looking pair is first put upon the platform. Davy, a good vegetable-gardener, 50 years old, and his wife Harriet, about 45, together with their daughters, Cassy and Scilla, twins, 14 years, and Amy, 12 years. Really, I would give something if you could see the daguerreotype of this family standing upon the platform, to be sold at auction. But, no--I recall the wish. Thank God that you cannot see that picture, because it would haunt you like a dreadful vision.
I remember an event which I heard related while I was in France. A young French lady had occasion to visit a picture gallery. Her eyes fell upon a large picture, representing the martyrs thrown before wild beasts, at the time of the Roman Emperor Dioclesian. The expression of agony in the features of the bleeding Christians was so fearfully given, that the maiden fell into hysterics, and she never recovered from the effect of her terror.
I will not attempt to imagine the anguish and horror that my fair female readers would have felt, if they could have witnessed the picture of that poor distressed family--the despairing features of those three innocent girls upon that slaughter-bench, like three faultless lambs offered for sacrifice! All five were sold for $3000.
No. 38. Big Bill, cooper, 55 years, and
No. 39. Winey, his wife--(to sell a wife at auction!--what a sacrilege of the sacred name!) 54 years old. Both together were sold for $1850.
No. 40. Tom, field hand, 28 years, and
No. 41. Matilda, 25 years. For both, $2250. One family.
No. 42. Shad, field hand, 38 years--
No. 43. Rachel, 29--and
No. 44. James, their son, 6 years of age--all were sold at $2275. Dear family that! But how much dearer shall he pay at the day of judgment, who sells the ‘bodies and souls of men’ for gold, silver, and approved paper, like cattle!
No. 45. Louis Mare, bricklayer, 42 years.
No. 46. Yellow Mary, 23 years of age. For both was offered $1750.
Kind reader, I must make your heart sad again--sad with compassion for your unfortunate and oppressed fellow-men. But I will speak the truth, only the truth, and nothing but the truth. God has given me a feeling heart; and, certainly, I suffered, while being present at the slave auction, of which I am giving you a faint description. But I had to stay, and my face had to be as stern as any of the slave-buyers present, while my heart mourned. Is it not a vision? There stands a girl upon the platform, to be sold to the highest bidder; perhaps to a cruel, low and dissolute fellow, who, a day or two since, won a few thousand dollars by his playing tricks at the faro table. She is nearly white; she is not yellow, as they call her. She has a fair waist, her hair is black and silky, and falling down in ringlets upon her full shoulders. Her eyes are large, soft, and languishing. She seeks in vain to hide the streaming tears with her small and delicate hands. Her features are fair, like those of the girls of the Caucassian race; they remind me of those of the highland girls of my native country, Switzerland. Who in all the world can have anything against her color? In England, she would be called a ‘star’; in France, a ‘belle’; in Germany, a ‘nice little woman’; and in the free States of the Union, she would pass, when fashionably dressed, for a ‘fair French lady.’ But, in the Slave States, she is openly sold, as though she were nothing more than a ‘beautiful mare’ or a ‘splendid cow’!
They say, in the Slave States, that they are Christians; yet they consider a fair Christian girl as a brute, because she is not of pure white blood! Why do they not make company with the fishes in the lower Mississippi? Have they not ‘white blood’?
If Mary’s father, who is, perhaps, a very much honored gentleman, ‘one of the best members of his church’--if that great man could see his only daughter, his own flesh and blood, standing upon the platform, with tearful eyes, and sighing in untold misery to be sold like a quadruped--surely, his blood would turn ‘white’ for shame and terror!
No. 47. Josephus, accomplished blacksmith, 35 years old--and
No. 48. Catharine, field hand, 30 years old. Catharine is a very strong and healthy-looking woman. If this pair of giants had the liberty to keep the earnings of their own labor for themselves, they would surely make the money for which they are sold now,--those $2800,--in less than three years. But their bodies belong to another, because the laws of the Slave States regard men and women of color as beasts of burden.
No. 49. Dennis, field hand, (suffers from hernia,) fifty-five years--
No. 50. Isabella, thirty-one years. Price for these poor human beings, $1350.
No. 51. Amos, field hand, a very smart and intelligent-looking boy of sixteen, brings $1450, or one hundred dollars more than the poor couple sold before him.
No. 52. Fielding, field hand, 26 years, and--
No. 53. Nelly, also a field hand, 30 years, both bring $2200.
No. 54. George Sunday, field hand, age 22, for $1400.
No. 55. Gay, 30, and
No. 56. Hannah, 35, together with
No. 57. Ellen, her daughter, a young girl of 13 years. Both Hannah and Ellen are crying very hard, because they are perhaps to be sold to a ruffian who made his fortune by swindling, and who will pay now $2300 for honest people, who have never done the least harm to anybody, who are faithful Christians, and whose hearts are to be broken by an act worthy of any blood-thirsty barbarians!
No. 58. Quash, field hand, aged 17. A black skin he has, like polished ebony, but no doubt his heart is white. How much whiter than the ‘man-driver’ who is going to buy him for the sum of $1400!
No. 60. John Louis, field hand, 24 years, and
No. 61. Fine, his wife--(wife? yes, as long as her master will permit her to remain such!) age 19, and
No. 62. Collar, a plump, little boy of 3 years. The last bid for them is $3050. Hear what the man behind my chair says to his companion:--‘Splendid family that! Very likely girl--fine child--but he paid a good deal of cash for them three black animals.’
‘Yes, Bob,’ says the other, ‘he spends plenty of money, but he will make ’em work! Holy Tschoupitoulas! they will get more lickings than tomatoes and bacon.’
Collar’s mother presses her little boy to her bosom; she casts her tearful eyes towards heaven. But even heaven seems to be closed to her prayers and to her tears. Shall she doubt that there is a just God above the clouds? Must her faith in the precious redemption of mankind, through the Savior, be destroyed in this dreadful hour? Can she still believe in the Lord and Master of her soul, when her tormentors call themselves disciples of this same Lord? Christian reader, will you not mourn while so many thousands of your humble fellow-men are groaning in chains? Can you sing and pray with a joyful heart in the house of the Lord, when you know that the cross of your Savior is trodden upon by the feet of ‘Christian slave-drivers’?
Nations, mourn! for justice is dead, and crime is triumphant!
Let us return to the ‘hall of perdition,’ in mourning apparel.
No. 63. Squire, 28 years, and
No. 64. Gertrude, cook, washer and ironer, age about 21. This fine but sad-looking pair bring $2600.
No. 65. Richard, field hand, age 19, sold for exactly $1000.
No. 66. John, plowman, 32 years, and
No. 67. Nancy, field hand, about 30. Highest bid for both, $1750.
No. 68. Davy, 58 years, and
No. 69. Polly, 50 years old, both sold for $500.
Five hundred dollars is a fair price for a horse, or for a valuable mule. But here we can perceive neither horses nor mules, but human beings, who, without regard to color or standing, await, like us, the hour of their call from this world to the judgment seat. Those two grey heads, of very humble looking persons, have been placed upon the auction-stand or platform. For forty years they have devoted their strength to the father of their master, and to him. They have gathered forty harvests for him--yes, for him who is now selling them for $500! They brought him ten times as much as he is now getting for their worn-out bodies.
No. 70. Frank Fortier, field hand, 36 years, and
No. 71. Fanny, 26 years, both were sold for $1600.
No. 72. James Pegram, field hand, 37 years.
No. 73. Johanna, 16 years.
No. 74. Cornelius, 8 years.
No. 75. Jane, 7 years.
No. 76. Old Maria, 60 years.
Another tableau, which, if Mr. Keller, the celebrated performer of ‘living tableaux,’ should exhibit in the Academy of Music, in the Athenæum, or in some other public hall of a ‘free city,’ he would certainly take the house by storm, and every nerve of his justice and freedom-loving audience would powerfully vibrate with indignation against the cold-hearted destroyers of family-life and of human rights.
Reader! imagine five persons, standing upon a platform, similar to a funeral pile erected for martyrs. Their color is darker than that of the persons sitting in front of the arena. There are eighty-three human beings, of various colors, and of different ages, bending down their heads, and looking as if they were condemned to death, and were now to be executed. Those five ‘articles for sale at auction’ consist of a father, three children, and their grandmother. Their mother has gone to bear witness, before the holy tribunal of the great Judge of the world, and to accuse the tormentors of her unfortunate people.
James, a strong, intelligent-looking man, gazes in utter despair upon his youngest child, who clings to him in distress. Poor little Jane! At the youthful age of seven, thou shalt already drink the bitter cup! And Johanna! O gentle maiden of sixteen summers! How she covers her eyes with one tip of her head-cloth, grasping her trembling little brother Cornelius by the hand! And what is their father doing? He is raising his eyes--there is one flash--a terrible one!
Tremble, O South! Though that slave is but one, and has no power as a single man, let others join him! Let a million of his brothers rise against their masters’ reign of terror! Let them break their chains! Then, South! it shall be too late to repent! Then thy day of judgment has come!
Old Maria--how pitiful she looks! Poor old grandma! Sixty years have passed over her gray hairs; she has done her duty--(what duty had she to do?)--she has done all she could, without murmuring. She has raised children, nursed grand-children. Never as her own--no, always for her master! She has been always a very meek, a very quiet, good-natured soul. But to-day--had she ever such a feeling of approaching evil? She is not quiet to-day; she trembles every time she glances at her dear family. She is asking herself, ‘Shall I be permitted to go with them? or shall I be sold alone?’
Hear! What said he there--that stately man with his white neckcloth, his gold chain, and large seal thereon? What said he? ‘I do not want the old woman. Sell her alone!’
Yes! that man had the last bid. He paid $3000 for James, Johanna, Cornelius, and Jane; but he won’t buy the old woman. No! he only wants ‘young hands.’ And the old mother, the kind grandma, is torn away from her dear family, and will never see them again. She is sold for $200 to another, and all her happiness is given in the bargain!
Some people pretend that slaves are indifferent to their being bought and sold. Upon questioning, I was told by many slaves who had comparatively kind masters, that their minds are constantly troubled for fear of being sold. They would rather submit to the most cruel treatment at the hands of their masters, than to be separated.
A very strong and valuable slave in Mobile assured me, that if his master should ever attempt to sell him, he would jump into the river. His idea of hell, he said, was a large platform of red hot iron, where bad people are to be sold. The auctioneer there is the devil. ‘There is,’ said he, ‘a good deal more white folks sold there by the devil than black ones.’ If those poor fellows had no reason like brutes--if they could not be conscious of their miserable condition--if they had no rational feeling--they might be less unhappy; but their reason, their power of intellect, is frequently superior to that of their brutal and often drunken masters. When slaves, who have been raised by kind masters, know that they shall be sold to men of ill repute, they live in a constant state of desperation, until they are sold, when they submit themselves to their deplorable lot, or look out for some opportunity to run away.
I shall never forget an awful catastrophe which took place in a large Southern seaport while I resided there. A beautiful quadroon slave girl, of about sixteen summers, with a skin such as many a Spanish lady would be proud of, and with splendid long black curls, was bought at auction for $1900 by a confirmed dissolute rascal, who forced her in the same night to stay with him.
Though she was a slave, Raimond Legrand, an honest young Frenchman, had fallen in love with her. He had sworn to buy her, and to bring her to ‘la belle France,’ where color of skin is never punished by imprisonment in the galleys, nor elsewhere. Unfortunately, he was not in possession of the money which her master asked for her. To procure it, Raimond went to California. During the time of his absence, the rather good-natured master of Madeline, (that was her name,) died suddenly, and his heir put Madeline up at auction. She was bought by the fellow I mentioned before, and all her happy dreams and hopes were at once blasted. Her pitiful cries and groans of anguish, in that horrible night, were heard for several houses from that of her inhuman new master. But there was no help for her, no salvation for Madeline. For the law of the State says:--‘A slave has to obey in all cases his or her master.’ In the following morning, a human chase was seen down the street towards the wharf. A young and beautiful girl, with flying curls, crying piteously, and running with all her might, was followed by a man who shouted, ‘Stop her! stop her!’ That poor girl was Madeline, and her pursuer was her new master. A man? No, a demon in human shape! They arrive together upon the wharf above the stream. He seizes hold of the dress of his victim, exclaiming, ‘Mine again! curse you!’ But, in an instant, she tears herself from the grasp of her tormentor--she casts one quick despairing glance upwards--and, uttering the words, ‘Adieu, cher Raimond!’ she throws herself from the wharf into the stream, and was seen no more.
No. 77. Scott, field hand, aged about 19, for $1375.
No. 78. Campbell, 22 years, for $1500.
No. 79. Dennis, 26 years, brought $1600.
Three valuable laborers, healthy and strong men. They are condemned to ‘hard labor for life,’ as a reward for their good behavior and diligence.
No. 80. Frank, field hand, and excellent gardener, 22 years, for $1425.
No. 81. Gerrard, 24 years, for $1500.
No. 82. John, 18 years, for $1375.
No. 83. Betty, a mild-looking young girl of fifteen summers. But what kind of summers? ‘Driving’ ones, of course. And what shall be her winters? We are going to learn it directly.
No. 84 and No. 85 are placed upon the stand. Tom, field hand, about 48 years, and Old Betsy, his wife, three years older than Tom. Tom is a very honest-looking man. Perhaps he is a cousin to the celebrated ‘Uncle Tom,’ well known by the brilliant pen of that truth-loving writer, MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. Tom dares not to look up, for he feels dreadfully ashamed to be put up at auction, like a mule or a dog. He suffers from hernia, a complaint which he contracted while catching a barrel of molasses, which, rolling down from a hill, endangered the life of a white infant child. Tom is therefore entitled to a reward for saving human life, and particularly white life. Entitled to a reward? O, yes! There stands Tom upon the platform of a slave-auction room, and enjoys his reward--to be sold to the highest bidder for $250!
I have seen a valuable mule, which, by kicking, caused the death of a child. This animal was afterwards sold at auction for the sum of $375, fully $125 more than our generous Tom!