As I got in at one end, I heard a voice--with that peculiar, twirling, rapid, nasal tw.a.n.g, which marks the Transatlantic auctioneer--say, "400 dollars for this fine young woman--only 400 dollars--420, only 420--430--440, only 440 dollars offered for this fine young woman." By this time I had got in front of the performer, and had a full view of the whole affair. And sure enough she was a "fine young woman," about twenty-three years of age, neatly dressed, not quite----But the scene shall form the subject of my next letter.
LETTER VII.
The Slave-Auction (continued)--"A Fine Young Woman"--A Man and his Wife--Jim, the Blacksmith--A Family--A Ploughboy--Cornelia--Another Jim--Tom, the House-Boy--Edmund--Tom, and "his reserved rights"--A Carriage Driver--Margaret and her Child.
Yes, she _was_ a "fine young woman," about 23 years of age, neatly dressed, not black, but slightly coloured. The auctioneer was a sleek-looking fellow, with a face that indicated frequent and familiar intercourse with the brandy-bottle. He stood upon a platform, about four feet high. Behind him was a table, at which a clerk sat to record the sales. High above was a semi-circular board, on which were written in large letters "Beard, Calhoun, and Co." In front, standing upon a chair, exposed to the gaze of a crowd of men, stood the "fine young woman." She had an air of dignity even in that degrading position.
Around were twenty or thirty more of the sable race, waiting their turn.
"440 dollars only offered," continued the coa.r.s.e and heartless auctioneer; "450, thank you; 460, 460 dollars only offered for this excellent young woman--470 only, 470--480, 480 dollars only offered--490--500 dollars offered--going for 500 dollars--once, going for 500 dollars--503 dollars--going for 503 dollars--going--once --twice--gone for 503 dollars. She is yours, sir," pointing to the highest bidder. She stepped down, and disappeared in the custody of her new proprietor.
A man and his wife, both black, were now put up. They were made to ascend the platform. "Now, how much for this man and his wife? Who makes an offer? What say you for the pair? 550 dollars offered--560 dollars only; 560 dollars," &c., &c., till some one bidding 600 dollars--he added, "Really, gentlemen, it is throwing the people away--going for 600 dollars; going--once--twice--gone for 600 dollars.
They are yours, sir."
Jim, a blacksmith, about 30 years of age, was the next. He stood on the chair in front. "Now, who bids for Jim? He is an excellent blacksmith; can work on a plantation, and make his own tools; in fact, can turn his hand to anything. The t.i.tle is good,"--(Is it, indeed? breathed I,)--"and he is guaranteed free from all the vices and maladies provided against by law. Who bids for him? 600 dollars bid for him --625 dollars--650 dollars," and so on to 780. ""Pon my soul, gentlemen, this is throwing the man away; he is well worth 1,200 dollars of anybody"s money; 790 dollars only offered for him--going for 790 dollars;--going--once--twice--gone for 790 dollars."
The next "lot" was a family, consisting of the husband, a man slightly coloured, about 30 years of age, the wife about 25, quite black, and reminding me forcibly of an excellent woman in my own congregation, a little girl about 4 years of age, and a child in the arms. They were told to mount the platform. As they obeyed, I was attracted by a little incident, which had well nigh caused my feelings to betray me. Never shall I forget it. Parents of England, let me tell it you, and enlist your sympathies on behalf of oppressed and outraged humanity. It was that of a father helping up, by the hand, _his own little girl to be exposed for sale_. "Now, who bids for this family? t.i.tle good--guaranteed free from the vices and maladies provided against by law. The man is an excellent shoemaker--can turn his hand to anything,--and his wife is a very good house-servant. Who bids for the lot? 500 dollars bid for them--600 dollars--only 600 dollars--700 dollars offered for them." But the price ultimately mounted up to 1,125 dollars.--"Going for 1,125 dollars--once--twice--gone for 1,125 dollars."
The next was a black boy, 16 years of age. He mounted the chair, not the platform. "Now, gentlemen, here is an excellent ploughboy. Who bids for him? Thank you,--400 dollars bid for him--425," and so on to 550 dollars. "Why, look at him; he is a powerful-limbed boy; he will make a very large strong man." He was knocked down at 625 dollars.
"The next I have to put up, gentlemen, is a young piece of city goods--the girl Cornelia. She is 18 years of age, a good washer and ironer, but not a very good cook. She is well known in the city, and has always belonged to some of the best families." By this time Cornelia was standing upon the chair. "Now, gentlemen, who bids for this girl? She is sold for no fault, but simply for want of money. Who bids for this excellent washer and ironer?" At this moment one of the "gentlemen," standing in front of her, deliberately took his walking-stick, and, with the point of it, lifted up her clothes as high as the knee. I afterwards saw this same man walking arm-in-arm with his white wife in the street. "500 dollars offered for her--530 dollars."
She went for 580.
Here let me state, once for all, that I took notes on the spot. Those around me no doubt thought I was deeply interested in the state of the slave-market, and wishful to convey the most accurate information to my slave-breeding and soul-driving correspondents at a distance. Had my real object and character been discovered, I gravely doubt whether I should have left that "great" and "free" city alive!
The next "lot" were Jim, his wife, and two children, one about three, and the other about two years of age,--all on the platform. They were said to be excellent cotton-field hands, t.i.tle good, and so forth; but, somehow, there were no bidders.
A boy about ten years of age, a fine intelligent-looking little fellow, was now made to mount the chair. "Now, who bids for Tom? an excellent house-boy, a "smart" young lad; can wait well at table--t.i.tle good--guaranteed free from all the vices and maladies provided against by law. Who bids for him?" The bidding began, at 350 dollars, and ended at 425.
"I have now to put up the boy Edmund, thirty-two years of age, an excellent cotton-field hand. Who bids for the boy Edmund?" At this moment a gentleman, who, like most of those present, appeared to be a sort of speculator in slaves, stepped forward, and examined with his hands the boy"s legs, especially about the ankles, just as I have seen horse-dealers do with those animals at fairs. There were, however, no bidders; and Edmund was put down again.
The next that mounted the chair was a shrewd-looking negro, about thirty-five years of age. "Now, gentlemen, who bids for Tom? He is an excellent painter and glazier, and a good cook besides; t.i.tle good; sold for no fault, except that his owner had hired him at 25 dollars a month, and Tom would not work. An excellent painter and glazier, and a good cook besides. His only fault is that he has a great idea of his own reserved rights, to the neglect of those of his master." This was said with a waggish kind of a leer, as if he thought he had said a very smart thing in a very smart way. 300 dollars were first offered for him; but poor Tom went for 350. "Now, sir," said the man-seller to Tom, with a malicious look, "you"ll go into the country." He was bought by one of the speculators, who no doubt would sell him again for double the amount. Tom, as he descended from the chair, gave a look which seemed to say, "I care not whither I go; but my own reserved rights shall not be forgotten!"
A girl of seventeen years of age, somewhat coloured, was the next put up. She was "an excellent washer and getter-up of linen." She was also "a tolerably good cook." But there were no bidders; and the auctioneer said, "Really, gentlemen, I have a great deal of business to do in my office: I cannot lose any more time here, as you are not disposed to bid." And so ended the exhibition.
I was now at leisure to observe that a strange noise which I had heard for some time proceeded from another auctioneer, engaged in the same line of business at the other end of the room. As I approached, I saw him with a young coloured man of about twenty-two years of age, standing on his left hand on the platform. What a sight! Two men standing together, and the one offering the other for sale to the highest bidder! In the young man"s appearance there was something very good and interesting. He reminded me forcibly of an excellent young man of the same colour in my own congregation. 430 dollars were offered for him; but, as he was a good carriage driver, and worth a great deal more, only he had not had time to dress himself for the sale, being industrious, sober, and _no runaway_ (said with significant emphasis), the bidding ran up to 660 dollars. Here one of the bidders on the auctioneer"s right hand asked him something aside; to which he answered, loudly and emphatically, "_Fully guaranteed in every respect_;" and then said to the young man, "Turn this way, and let the gentleman see you," He was sold for 665 dollars.
The next was a very modest-looking young mulatto girl, of small features and slender frame, with a little child (apparently not more than a year old) in her arms, evidently the daughter of a white man.
"Now, who bids for Margaret and her child?" Margaret! my own dear mother"s name. "Margaret and her child!" What should I have been this day, if _that_ Margaret "and her child" Ebenezer had been so treated?
Who can think of his own mother, and not drop a tear of sympathy for this mother--so young, so interesting, and yet so degraded? "Now, gentlemen, who bids for Margaret and her child? She is between sixteen and seventeen years of age, and is six months gone in pregnancy of her second child: I mention the last circ.u.mstance, because you would not think it to look at her,--it is right, however, that you should know.
She cooks well, sews well, washes well, and irons well. Only 545 dollars! Really, gentlemen, it"s throwing the girl away; she is well worth 800 dollars of any man"s money. She"ll no doubt be the mother of a great many children; and that is a consideration to a purchaser who wants to raise a fine young stock. Only 545 dollars offered for her!"
No higher offer being made, she was sent down,--it was no sale. Let us breathe again.
LETTER VIII.
St. Louis Exchange--Inspection of Human Chattels--Artizan Slaves--Scenes and Proceedings of the Auction--Sale of the Men.
Finding that another slave-auction was to be held at noon next day in the St. Louis Exchange, I resolved to attend. The day was dull and dirty. "Please, sir," said I to the first man I met, "to tell me where St. Louis Exchange is?" "Don"t know, sir." I walked on a little further, and tried again. "Please to direct me to St. Louis Exchange?"
"Can"t; but it"s somewhere in that direction," pointing with his finger. "Is this the way to St. Louis Exchange?" I asked a third. "I guess it is," was the curt and characteristic reply. "How far is it?"
"Three blocks further on; then turn to your right; go a little way down, and you will find it on your left." I went as directed, and came to an immense building--a kind of hotel. There were nearly a dozen entrances, all leading into one vast saloon, where I found about 200 gentlemen,--some drinking, some eating, some smoking, some reading, some talking, and all spitting. One end of the saloon was fitted up as a refreshment place, similar to those on railway stations in England.
But I could see nothing like preparations for a sale.
On looking around I perceived a large door in two halves, with spring hinges, leading as it were further into the building. I pushed one half open, and found myself in a s.p.a.cious circular hall,--its roof, ending in a dome, supported by a suitable number of ma.s.sive columns. The floor was tastefully paved with black and white marble, and all the light came from the dome. Some 100 gentlemen were sauntering about, and now and then turning to several groupes of black people to ask them questions. This place was evidently fitted up for auctioneering purposes, and seemed peculiarly adapted for man-selling. At equal distances were a dozen elevated desks for the chief actors, each with a small platform in front for the exhibition of the articles of sale.
It was a quarter to twelve, by the clock that faced the entrance door, when I got in. Anxious to know what kind of questions were put to the slaves, I pushed myself into the knots of intending purchasers, just as if I had been one of them. The inquiries, I found, related to place of birth, subsequent removals, competency for work, and so forth. The answers presented a fearful view of the extent to which the internal slave-trade is carried on. Most of the slaves said they had been "raised" in Virginia and Kentucky. To avoid the suspicion of being a spy, I resolved to put a few questions too. I found myself at the establishment where those named in the advertis.e.m.e.nt which had drawn me thither were to be disposed of. A pile of handbills--each containing an exact copy of the advertis.e.m.e.nt, and a French translation--was lying on the platform. Taking one up, I observed the name of "Squires, a carpenter." a.s.suming all the confidence I could muster, I said, "Which is Squires?" "I"m here, sir." "You are a carpenter, are you not?" "Yes, sir," (with a very polite bow). "And what can you do?" "I can trim a house, sir, from top to bottom." "Can you make a panelled door?" "Yes, Sir." "Sash windows?" "Yes, sir." "A staircase?" "Yes, sir." I gave a wise and dignified nod, and pa.s.sed on to another groupe. In my progress, I found by one of the platforms a middle-aged black woman, and a mulatto girl of perhaps eighteen crouching by her side. "Are you related to each other?" I said. "No, sir." "Have you lived long in the city?" I said to the younger. "About two years, sir; but I was "raised"
in South Carolina." "And why does your owner sell you?" "Because I cannot cut--she wants a cutter--I can only sew." I then returned to the groupe at platform No. 1.
The clock was striking twelve; and, before it had finished, the vast dome reverberated with the noise of half-a-dozen man-sellers bawling at once, disposing of G.o.d"s images to the highest bidders. It was a terrible din. But, at our platform, business proceeded rather leisurely. Two gentlemen ascended the desk: the one of a light complexion, about fifty-five years of age, rather fat, whiskers and beard smoothly shaven off; the other, a Frenchified-looking young man, about twenty-five years of age, of dark complexion, with green spectacles to hide some deformity of the eye, no whiskers, but a large quant.i.ty of beard on the lower chin. The elderly man, whom I took to be the notary public mentioned in the advertis.e.m.e.nt, read the terms of sale; then the dark auctioneer, stroking his bearded chin, proceeded to business.
"Now, gentlemen, let me sell you Jacob. He is twenty-six years of age--a first-rate carpenter and wheelwright--_Jacob age d"environ 26 ans, charpentier et charron de la premiere ordre_--guaranteed free from the vices and maladies provided against by law--_garanti exempt des vices et des maladies prevus par la loi_. How much for Jacob? _Combien pour Jacob?_" He was run up from 1,000 dollars, and was going for 1,175, when the fat old gentleman offered 1,200, at which he was knocked down. "Now, gentlemen," said the fat man, with deliberation and emphasis, "the 1,200 dollars was my bid, and therefore Jacob is not sold. He is well worth 1,800 dollars."
At this performance, be it observed, the chief actor uttered everything first in English, and then in French, in the same breath, thereby giving the proceedings a most strange and comical sound.
Abraham, although on the advertis.e.m.e.nt, was not present.
Sancho, a black man, twenty-seven years of age, was the next in order.
He was described as "an excellent carpenter--_excellent charpentier_--can do anything but fine work--fully guaranteed free from the maladies and vices provided against by law;" and, as n.o.body would bid higher, he also was bought in by the fat man at 1,025 dollars.
George, a black man, twenty-seven years of age, was the next to mount the platform. George kept his eyes fixed upon the dome, as if he felt above looking down on the grovelling creatures beneath him. He was a stout-built, thick-set man, who evidently felt to the very core the degradation to which he was exposed. "Now, gentlemen, let me sell you George--a first-rate bricklayer--_excellent poseur de briques_--bears an excellent character--only he absconded once from his master for a few days. How much do you offer for him?" The bidding began at 500 dollars; but George, like his predecessors, was bought in at 980 by the fat man, who protested him to be well worth 1,500.
Squires--whom I questioned about doors, sash-windows, and staircases--was next put up. He was said to be twenty-eight years of age; but I think he was nearer forty. On his forehead was a deep scar, occasioned by some severe cut. He appeared to be a very good-tempered man, and by his smiling looks seemed to say, "Buy me, and I"ll serve you well." "What will you offer for Squires, gentlemen?--an excellent carpenter--can trim a house--all but the very fine work--bears an excellent character--is fully guaranteed," &c. &c. "Who bids for Squires?" Poor fellow! he was sold for 900 dollars.
Sancho was put up again, the fat man observing that he had made a mistake in offering a reserve bid for him--that he would be sold without reserve. He was put up at 600 dollars. The biddings gradually ascended to 900, and there stood, till, after a considerable expenditure of the Frenchman"s breath and talent, Sancho was knocked down at 900 dollars, though when first put up 1,025 had been offered for him.
John, a black man, twenty-five years of age, "an excellent French and American cook--_excellent cuisinier Francais et Americain_," was put up at 600 dollars, and, after the usual quant.i.ty of the Frenchman"s eloquence, (accompanied, as in all other cases, by the constant rubbing of his tuft of chin-beard with the left hand, while in the right he flourished a fine ma.s.sive gold pencil-case and a sheet of paper,) fetched 775 dollars, at which price he was knocked down to one Robert Murphy.
Silas also, a black boy, fifteen years of age, a house-servant, with a large scar on the right cheek, was sold for 670 dollars to Robert Murphy; who likewise became the purchaser of Scipio, a black man about twenty-four years of age, "an excellent cook, fully warranted in every respect," for 705 dollars.
"Now, gentlemen," resumed the green-spectacled auctioneer, still stroking his cherished tuft of long black beard,--"now, gentlemen, let me sell you Samson! He is twenty-six years of age--an excellent house-servant--guaranteed free," &c. &c. "What do you offer for Samson?" Poor Samson fell into the hands of the Philistines at 710 dollars.
Sam, the next on the list, was not present. Ben was therefore put up.
He was a fine buckish young fellow, about twenty-one. His complexion was lighter than that of a mulatto, and his hair was not at all crisped, but straight, and of a jet black. He was dressed in a good cloth surtout coat, and looked altogether far more respectable and intelligent than most of the bidders. He was evidently a high-minded young man, who felt deeply the insulting position he was made to occupy. Oh! that I could have whispered in his ear a few words of sympathy and comfort. He stood on the platform firm and erect, his eyes apparently fixed on the clock opposite. "Now, gentlemen, what do you offer for Ben?" said the Frenchified salesman; "a first-rate tailor--only twenty-one years of age." 700 dollars proved to be the estimated value of this "excellent tailor."
Charles (not in the catalogue) was now offered. He was a black man, of great muscular power, said to be twenty-eight years of age. He had, it was admitted, absconded once from his master! At this intelligence the countenances of the bidders fell. He had evidently gone down at least 20 per cent. in value. Though offered at 300 dollars, however, he rose to 640, at which price he was sold.
The "ladies" were yet to be exhibited. "Elizabeth" (my own dear sister"s name) was the first. But I reserve this part of the scene for another letter.
LETTER IX.