Skip to main content
By Dr. JOHN THEOPHILUS KRAMER,
LATE OF NEW ORLEANS, LA.
' Blush ye not
To boast your equal laws, your just restraints.
Your rights defined, your liberties secured,
Whilst, with an iron hand, ye crush to earth
The helpless African, and bid liiiu drink
That cup of sorrow which yourselves have dashed,
Indignant, from Oppression's fainting grasp ? '
ROBERT F. WALLCUTi, 21 COENHILL.
res. SSi^.si m-z
The Nineteenth Century is generally believed to
be an enlightened one. Great discoveries have been
made in the fields of science. Countries vv^hich were
almost unknown a century ago are now competing
in art and wealth with the mother countries. Civ-
ilization has made a decided step forward ; but in
some countries, civilization has made, in one re-
spect, no progress ; on the contrary, it has made a
There is an institution, which is called by many
civilized men a ' lawful one,' but which is in reality
an institution of ancient barbarity. It is the insti-
tution of slavery ! If we take for truth, that civ-
ilization and Christianity go hand in hand, we are
astonished to see a civilized and Christian people
violating the laws of civilization and of Christianity,
by adhering to and nursing said institution of bar-
barity. Christianity and barbarity will always op-
pose each other, and if a nation is trying to make a
mixture of both, civilization as well as Christianity
will suffer extensively.
The motive of my present writing is not a politi-
cal one. I have been plainly trying to ansvrer the
question, ' Can slavery and Christianity go hand in
hand together?' by giving a faithful picture of
what I have seen with my own eyes, while residing
in some of the slave States for more than ten years.
If the glorious redemption through the crucified
Nazarene shall be of equal blessing to every Chris-
tian, how can a white Christian treat a Christian of
color like a beast ? How can the former have, a
right to sell his black or yellow brother or sister at
public auction for money or approved paper?
I have no personal ill feeling against the owners of
slaves in the slave States of this Union, but to their
institution of slavery, and particularly to their
slave-auctions and to their slave-markets, I am a
decided enemy. As a man and a Christian, I am
obliged to protest solemnly against an institution
which is a burning shame to Christianity, which is a
backsliding from civilization to barbarism, a destroy-
er of family-life, a crime against virtue, and a blas-
phemy to the cross of the Redeemer !
J. T. K.
They were born as slaves, through the iniqiiity of
men. They are redeemed to be free men, through Christ
There is a broad'hall, situated in one of the most
frequented streets of a large and well-known city in
the South. You will be astonished when you shall
find, in place of a lion's den or a man-trap, a nicely-
fitted up refreshing-place. Nothing formidable is
presented to your eyes. Several corpulent and richly
dressed gentlemen are helping themselves to fine
liquors and delicacies, profusely spread out before you,
and placed upon an elegantly shaped bar. Beautiful
pictures, ornamenting the walls, attract the eyes of
some amateurs of art ; while others, preferring nice
lots and buildings, are studying the designs of several
large maps, showing various city lots and splendid
buildings, advertised « for sale at auction.' In the
vicinity of said maps is a platform, whereupon a ta-
ble is placed, together with a writing-desk and a few
chairs. Two colored waiters are busj' placing several
hundred commodious chairs, facing the platform.
The doors of the hall open frequently, for there are
many gentlemen entering, and soon is gathered a large
assemblage, by whom the chairs are occupied. There
you will see the elegantly dressed dandy, smoking his
sweet-scented Havana, while examining, through his
richly gilded eye-glass, the designs of building lots.
Next to his chair you will perceive and admire the
athletic form of a Kentucky trader, with his plain frock,
and with his boots reaching over his knees. There
you will also see the rich and proud planter from
Mississippi, reasoning with his fierce-looking, but
now, before his employer, creeping overseer.
The doors are opened again. Four ladies, splendid-
ly dressed in black silk and satin, and glittering with
precious jewels, are entering the hall. Eight or ten
gentlemen, who were already comfortably seated next
to the platform, jump up from their chairs, and po-
litely offer their seats to the fair guests.
But, you will ask, for what reason is all this going
on ? "What are the ladies and gentlemen waiting for ?
Perhaps it is court-day, and the people are waiting for
the Judge. It cannot be, for the court-house is op-
posite the Square. Is it perhaps a prayer-meeting ?
Pshaw ! Prayer-meeting and liquor-bar — would that
But what can it be ? Who is that jolly round gen-
tleman, placing a large book upon the writing-desk,
and looking like a bird which has never seen a cage,
but which has its three meals per diem in the middle
of a ripe wheat field ? Is it not a pleasure to take a
glance at his face, radiant with contentment and plen-
ty ? If that man were a pastor, should we not
like to pasture with his flock ? See there ! he hands
now to the waiters a large package of bills. We shall
soon learn what kind of a concern all this is. It will
be. most probably, neither a session of a court, nor a
A Slave Auction ! Great God in heaven ! a
Slave Auction ! And that man upon the platform
is the auctioneer !
What a noise is going on outside of the doors !
There will, surely, enter a troop of men, women and
children. How will they find places amongst the
spectators of the tragedy which will soon com-
mence ? — for every chair is occupied, and many-
men are leaning upon the bar. There is room in
front of the table, and near to the walls of the hall.
A gentleman is entering. The auctioneer liastens
to receive him with distinction, and conducts him to
the chair behind the desk. The stranger is an Amer-
ican gentleman, and owner of the slaves who are
now to be sold at auction. He ov.'ns a beautiful plan-
tation, about forty miles from the city, near the rail-
road. He intends to run as a political candidate ;
he needs, therefore, money. He says he is » truly sor-
ry ' to be obliged to sell his slaves at auction. Why-
sorry ? Because his father raised most of them. They
are 'family slaves,' and ' very likely indeed.* He is
a young man of about thirty years. He has a high,
forehead, and an intelligent, upright face.
But why can he not take a glance at the assembled
audience? What is the matter with him, that he
always bends his face over the desk, and that he will
not look up ? Has he not a right to be proud, and
shall not the multitude envy the happy owner of a
gang of one hundred and forty-nine slaves ? But we
comprehend what is the matter with him. He pre-
tends to be a good Christian, and. he is acquainted
with the gospel ; he therefore knows what is right,
and what is wrong. It is his conscience that troubles
him. His inner man is well aware that he is doing
a heinous crime to sell at auction one hundred and
forty-nine fellow-beings, redeemed by his Savior upon
the Cross !
While we were regarding the man behind the desk,
we never perceived that the doors were re-opened,
and that a large number of people had entered the
hall. There are men, women and children, and some
babies upon their mothers' arms. Their color differs
from that of the ladies and gentlemen sitting upon
the chairs. Some are black as ebony, some brown,
some yellow. There is also a beautiful young girl,
nearly white, and you would readily infer that she is
of Spanish or French blood. Not one among all of
these poor creatures will raise his or her head and eyes,
to take a glance at the sitting assemblage. Some
poor girls are weeping audibly, and all are looking
sad — sad — sad ! E-eader, if you should happen to be
of a gentle nature, take n glance at the little babies
upon the arms of their poor and distressed mothers !
Can babies feel their misery ? Yes, indeed, they can.
Every mother will endorse my words. I shall never
forget those looks of deep sorrow, which X perceived
in the faces of all those poor little children upon the
auction-stand. I know that they participated in the
distress of their mothers; I believe that they were
conscioTis of their horrible fate in that awful hour —
to be sold for money to the highest bidder ! You,
who have human feelings — you, who are no figures of
cold marble — contemplate each of these one hundred
and forty-nine descendants of Africa's sons and
daughters ! Will you be still indifferent towards that
'institution' which degrades men to beasts, which is
the deepest pit of barbarity ?
But, you will say, are they not tolerably well dress-
ed ? And who would say that their bodies have been
■worn out by hard labor, or by the effect of hunger ?
No ; it seems rather that their master had treated
them kindly, that they have seen but little trouble,
but few hard times. Why then are they looking
grave and distressed, as if some heavy misfortune had
befallen them ? Their knees tremble, as if they had
the foreboding of some awful calamity !
Yes, indeed, they have cause to tremble— they
will not do wrong if they cover their eyes (which are
not their own) — they may bend down their heads in
deep mourning ; for — reader ! these one hundred and
forty-nine human souls shall be sold to-day as so many
heads of cattle !
They have been taught the religion of freedom, the
gospel of the onl}' Master in heaven and upon earth.
They know that they ought to be free, because they
are Christians. 1'hey believe that the Son of God
has abolished slavery by his death upon the accursed
tree. They were told by their own master that they
were made free through the merits of the blood of
Jesus Christ, and that they have a right to claim
their^freedotn for themselves and for their children.
Such are the teachings of the slaveholders in the
slave States, but they must themselves surely believe
in a very different gospel from the gospel of freedom,
as given by the Nazarene !
To excuse themselves, they say that, through the
curse of the patriarch Noah, a whole race of men were
made slaves forever. They are deaf to the great
truth, that, thousands of years after the death of
Noah, the great Liberator, Jesus Christ, appeared,
and that he broke, by his death upon the Cross, all
chains of slavery forever !
Let us return to the table of barbarity, and we will
follow the course of proceedings at the public auction
sale of one hundred and forty-nine of our fellow-
The auctioneer stands upon the platform : he is
ready to sell any of these to the highest bidder for
gold, silver, or approved paper. He calls himself a
Christian. He seems to have no idea that he is going
to perform an act which is the greatest blasphemy
towards his Lord and Master. Is not any man, pre-
tending to be a Christian, and selling his Christian
brothers like horses, mules or dogs, a hypocrite ? And
is any man, calling himself a disciple of Christ, but
favoring and seconding slave auctions, any better ?
We will listen to the reading of the auctioneer, who
is holding a paper in his right hand :: — ' I am author-
ized,' he begins, ' to sell at auction, one hundred and
forty -nine plantation negroes, comprising carpenters,
bricklayers, blacksmiths, coopers, drivers, house and
field-hands. Families will be sold in block. These
slave have been raised, and the larger portion of them
were born on the estate of Minor E,., Esq., v/ho is
retiring from the plantation interest on the Beau-
Bosquet Place. The slaves are considered as one
of the most valuable and healthy gangs in the
South. They will be guaranteed only in title. Terms
of sale, one-third cash, balance at one and two years'
credit, with interest of six per cent, per annum,
until final payment. If the terms of sale are not
completed within four days from date of sale, the
slaves will be resold, for account and risk of for-
mer purchasers, after two days' advertisement in two
of the city papers, without further notice of legal
No. 1. Harvey, field hand, about twenty years old.
* Come up here, my boy ! There you are — bon ! A
capital boy ! Ladies and gentlemen, look here at
this healthy child ! Can any darkey upon God's
beautiful earth beat him ? Wouldn't he whip Her-
cules, if that personage should happen to be present ?
What a splendid fellow he is ! The gentleman who
will buy Harvey will draw a lucky number. Who
is going to bid ? Go ahead, gentlemen ! Here is a
' Eight hundred dollars.'
* Pshaw! Eight hundred dollars? Why, twice
as much shall never buy him ; he is fully worth two
thousand dollars. Who will bid more ?'
* Nine hundred.'
* Nine hundred dollars is no money for such a fellow,
and if you will pay every picayune twice, you can't get
him ! Nine hundred for Harvey ? Gentlemen, you
have had, probably, bad news to-day ; or is the news
confirmed, and has the California steamer foundered ?
They say so, but do not believe a word of it. I say
it is safe ! Nine hundred dollars for Harvey !'
* And fifty.'
< Nine hundred and fifty dollars for Harvey, the
most likely boy in the noble and fair State of Louisi-
ana ! Ain't it too bad ? Who bids more ?'
* One thousand !'
* Well, a little better ! Go on, gentlemen, if you
please. One thousand — one thousand — one thousand
« And fifty.'
* And fifty ! My dear sir, do me a favor, and say at
once two thousand. And fifty — and fifty ! Ten hun-
dred and fifty dollars !'
' Eleven hundred.'
* Eleven hundred ! Too little yet.'
< Twenty dollars more.'
* Sir ? Twenty dol . Pardon, excuse me, if I
am truly astonished to hear a gentleman bid twenty
dollars for Harvey, the American Hercules ! Twenty
hundred I would like it better.'
* Twelve hundred and fifty.'
'There is a generous gentleman! Sir, take my
best wrishes for your welfare ! Twelve hundred and
fifty dollars '
< And fifty.'
« Still better ! And fifty ! One thousand three
hundred dollars !'
* Fourteen hundred.'
* Fourteen — thank you, sir, thank you ! Fourteen
hundred dollars ! Fourteen hundred ! Fourteen
Gentlemen, bid more, if you please ! Fourteen hun-
dred dollars for Harvey are nothing. Fourteen '
' And fifty.'
« Fourteen hundred and fifty dollars for a boy who
is worth two thousand ! Gentlemen, here is a good
chance to improve property ! Whoever will buy
Harvey, shall own a fortune. Who is going to bid
more ? Fourteen — fourteen hundred and fifty dollars
— going ? One thousand four hundred and fifty dol-
lars — dollars — dollars ! Who will bid more ? No-
body r Nobody more ? Fourteen hundred and fifty
dollars for the negro boy Harvey, the best field hand
and the most gentle boy amongst all the darkeys in
the United States ! Going — for the first — second —
who will say more ? Fourteen hundred and fifty dol-
lars — going — going — going — gone !'
« Go off, Harvey ! Hurry yourself! Don't believe
your bones are made of sugar and eggs.*
No. 2. Joseph, field hand, aged about seventeen.
« Gentlemen, there is a young blood, and a capital
one ! He is a great boy, a hand for almost every
thing. Besides, he is the best dancer in the whole
lot, and he knows also how to pray — oh ! so beauti-
fully, you would believe he was made to be a minis-
ter ! How much will you bid for him ?'
< One thousand dollars.'
« Good — but that is not half the price he is really
worth. Gentlemen, if you will bid two thousand at
onee, it may not suffice to buy lura. One thousand
dollars for a boy, who will be worth in three years
fully twenty-five hundred dollars cash down. Who
is going to bid two thousand ?'
« Twelve hundred dollars.'
< Twelve hundred dollars ! Sir, I did say, he would
soon bring two thousand. I am always pretty near
certain of what I say. Twelve hundred for Joseph !
Splendid fellow that ! Eleven hundred and eighty-
dollars more than for his namesake of old in the land of
Egypt. Twelve hundred dollars ! Gentlemen, bid
* Twelve hundred and fifty dollars.*
« One thousand two hundred and fifty dollars ! All
right ; but more ! more ! more !'
« And fifty.'
* And fifty — and fifty — and fifty for Joseph — not
• Thirteen hundred.'
* Thirteen hundred — a bad number, gentlemen —
don't let him rest at thirteen hundred.'
« And fifty.'
• Thirteen hundred and fifty is said to be a lucky
number in lotteries. I don't know as it is true, but
I do know that thirteen hundred and fifty dollars will
not buy Joseph.'
♦ Fourteen hundred.'
• Well, no ticket of any lottery will cost that much ;
but Joseph must bring more. Fourteen hundred dol-
« And fifty.'
« One thousend four hundred and fifty dollars. It
looks like rain ; for cash will not out, and I am un-
able to procure a magnet -which will draw gold .for
value received. Fourteen hundred and fifty dollars !
Too small an amount for Joseph. Seventeen years
only — a strong, healthy, fine-looking, intelligent boy.
Fourteen hundred and fifty dollars! Gentlemen,
Joseph is worth more tban Harvey — upon my word !
One thousand, four hundred and fifty — going ! Four-
teen hundred and fifty for the first— second— going ?
Fourteen hundred and fifty dollars — going ! going !
going ! and last — gone ! He is sold to you, sir !
Please state your name.'
No. 3. John Dowson, a carpenter, thirty-five years
old, (aifiicted with slight hernia,) an intelligent
looking man, stands upon the platform.
But as the reader would get tired of listening to
every word that the auctioneer of human souls says,
Vfe will stay with some of the poor creatures, merely
giving the names, age, and the price of sale of the
rest. The above named John Dowson was sold for
No. 4. Alfred, cooper, (injured in left leg,) 19 years
of age, a strong and very honest looking boy, brings
$1550 ; a very small price for a first-rate cooper, but
surely the price of blood for a man and a Christian !
No. 5. George Bedford, field hand, 30 years, sold
No. 6. Jim Ludlow, field hand, 30 years old, brings
No. 7. Chap, field hand, 34 years, brings the round
sum of $100.0.
No. 8. Henry Wood, 23 years old, for $1375.
No. 9. Charles Longback, plowman and harness
maker, age 35, value received, $1300.
No. 10. March, field hand, 26 years old, fine look-
ing fellow, splendid eyes, teeth white like ivory.
That dandy there, who is lighting his cigar with a
fashionable Parisian silver-match, would be glad to
give his gold watch with chain, and his diamond
breastpin in the bargain, for March's beautiful set of
spotless teeth. But how can we see them ? Is March
so much pleased as to show all his teeth ? No, read-
er ! he is very, very far from laughing. His eyes
are cast down ; they are fixed upon the floor of the
hall. But tell me why March shows his teeth ? Out
of rage ? Yes, indeed, out of rage. Why ?
There is a poor young woman at his side ; they call
her Caroline. A Christian minister gave her that
name when she was christened. She is bitterly cry-
ing ; she casts a look of extreme sorrow upon her hus-
band. Why ?
Caroline is the lawful wife, (lawful, indeed ? law-
ful in a Slave-State ?) of March, and the « gentle-
man' who bought him for $1250 will not buy Caroline.
She is twenty-two years of age, and the auctioneer
calls her a splendid v/asher and ironer, a very likely
girl. She has always conducted herself well ; she
is a member of the Methodist Church ; she is one of
the most gentle persons in the South ; she calls March
her husband, and she loves him dearly. And now,
gentle reader, tell me why Caroline shall be torn from
her husband ? Why shall she belong to a tyrant ?
Because that man has money — because he bought her
Friends of humanity ! take another glance at No.
10|, There stands Caroline, crying for her husband
in a manner to move a heart of stone ; but she is not
crying loud enough to move pretended ' Christians,'
who are going to church every Sunday, there to adore
the Redeemer of mankind, the Savior upon the
No. 11. Abraham Arkansas, plowman and carter,
28 years of age ; he brings $1350.
No. 12. Michael, carter and plowman, 29 years, sold
No. 13. Booker, plowman, 28 years, brings $1375.
No. 14. Lucy, a young girl of 14, yet nearly a
child. Her color is black, but her features are hand-
some. She stands upon the platform like a lamb,
doomed to be sold to a wolf. See those long, silky
eyelids ; how the large full drops are falling upon the
table ! Look at the sad, silent face of a poor lovely
girl of dark color, innocent like the blossom of a fair
nightly flower ! Her crime is, that she is a descend-
ant from African blood. Look, how her full, red lips
open with untold agony, showing a string of pearls
rarely to be met with. Her dark but soft eyes are
fixed 'upon the man who has already bid twice for
her. She casts them down in despairing hopeless-
ress, as he is bidding for her $1025 for the last time.
She belongs to him ! Iler whole body belongs to the
man with the lustful countenance ; to the very man
who whispered in her ear when she was entering the
hall of perdition, • Thou art mine, black little dove I
Thou art mine, even though God and all his holy
angels should defend thee !' Does not that man look
like one of the tiends ? But he has paid for her, one
thousand and liity dollars in gold and approved paper ;
he takes her away — and hell solemnizes its triumph !
No. 15. The boj' Clifford, a field hand, fourteen
years of age, is sold for ^iOOO.
No. 16. Sam, twenty-one years, truly as honest a
boy as could be found south of Mason and Dixon's
line. A gentleman behind my chair is exclaiming,
' What a splendid jot black animal he is !' Sam
brings the nice round sum of $1500.
No. 17. Little Henry, plowman, twenty-four years,
No. 18. Titus, blacksmith, cooper and engineer,
* extra,' 23 years. Of course, he must be * extra," for
he is able to work for his master at the rate of $5 a
day. Now, suppose he could work for himself a,t the
rate of only $3 a day, it would take him only two
years five months and seventeen days to produce the
money for which he is now sold at auction. But his
master will be a wise man, (though he is a prominent
member in his church) — he will let him have no time
to work for himself; no, not one hour !
The kind reader will give me pcrmiirsion to retreat,
for a short time, from the auction hall, in order to re-
late an event which happened at the time of my stay-
in the same city where our auction takes phice. A
certain citizen of said city had a very honest and dili-
gent slave, a blacksmith by trade. The slave agreed
with his master to pay him two dollars and a half a
day, but the money which he should earn besides,
should belong to hirnself. He diligently worked by
day and night, hardly allowing himself any rest.
By so doing, he made two dollars and a half a day for
his master, and one for himself. After five years of
the hardest toil, the slave had collected the required
sum of money to buy himself free — say .$1800. He
— poor honest fellow ! — not suspecting the rascalitj' of
his ♦ Christian ' master, had given to him, at the end
of every week, .$24,50 ; all of his very hard earned
money; and after the lapse of five years, he demand-
ed his freedom from that master. But the hardened
■wretch laughed at him, and told him to go to h — 11,
and to his work again. Now, could not the slave
find justice in the court of justice ? No, never — for
the laws of the Slave States provide that no slave
shall bear witness against any white person. No
♦Christian' judge nor 'Christian' jury could help
the poor slave ; for the laws of a • Christian ' State
regard a fellow-man of color as a tool, belonging to
any rascal who happens to possess asullicient quantity
of money to buy that human tool !
No. 19. liosa, field hand, 16 years of age, a capi-
tal girl, well built, good natured and intelligent.
There she stands upon the platform, gazed at by sev-
eral 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
i?yelashes ; and when he is handling her beating
bosom, oh, reader ! mark the just indignation ex-
pressed in all her features ! Poor Hosa ! 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
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 hot only an inclination to-
ward 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 shame-
ful 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 Chris-
tendom ! There is a country which is called a Chris-
tian 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 dis-
ciples 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
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
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 planta-
tion to which they belonged. Beneath an orange
tree, covered with red, beautiful, juicy fruits, they sat
down upon the grass. Nancj', which was the name
of the little girl, dropped silently her head ; not a
word carae from her lips, but large drops fell from
her eyes upon tlie grass. Bob took her hands in his,
asking her tenderly, ' Sis, what is the matter with
you ? Why will you cry r ' ' 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
« 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. * Yoa
shall know that I am master, and you are my slave.'
The terror-struck girl made no reply ; she only ut-
tered a long, painful groan. Bob, in great excite-
ment, 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 Avith a single piercing cry to the ground.
From that day, Bob ha'd 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. ('harles 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 vac-
cum boiler, 32 years of age. Eis color is a ming-
ling of yellow and white. His forehead is high, his
face intelligent. There is no mistake — plenty of An-
glo-Saxon blood is running through his veins. If he
had been born in Massachusetts, or in one of the oth.er
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 sec-
ond Alexander Dumas ; and if, in that case, he would
not be able to write as admirable a story as is ' The
Count of Monte Christo,' I should despair of finding
any sense in a Gall or a Lavater. Well, this second
Alexander Dumas is sold at auction for .'i^262o, 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
th.at land where the master and the slave enjoy ' equal
But who was her fnth.er? There we hnve a prob-
lem, which even the discoverer of the quadrature
of the circle can never solve. Perhaps Jake's grand-
father was a * rising man,' and his white grandchil-
dren are now celebrated senators and lawgivers.
And who was the fatlier of Jake r Don't know-
Eut 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 nat-
ural brothers and sisters are sitting in splendid par-
lors, or in the drawing-room of some fashionable ho-
tel, « 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 peo-
ple, 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 auc-
tion. 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
No. 32. Willis, field hand, 24 years, sold for
No. 32^. 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
whom5they 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 plat-
form. Davy, a good^vegetable-gardener, 60 years
old, and his wife Harriet, about 45, together with their
daughters, Cassy and Scilla, twins, 14 years, and
Amy, 12 years. E,eally, I would give something if
you could see the daguerreotype of this family stand-
ing 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 Eoman Emperor Dioclesian.
The expression of agony in the features of the bleed-
ing 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 hor-
ror that my fair female readers would have felt, if they
could have witnessed the picture of that poor distress-
ed family — the despairing features of those three in-
nocent 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 j
— 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
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 oppress-
ed 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 giv-
ing 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 dis-
solute 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 bl;ack
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 ai-e fair, like
those of the girls of the Caucassian race ; they re-
mind 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 Ger-
many, 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 Chris-
tians ; 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 daugh-
ter, his own flesh and blood, standing upon the plat-
form, 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. Cath-
arine 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 intelli-
gent looking boy of sixteen, brings $1450, or one
hundred dollars more than the poor couple sold before
No. 52. Fielding, field hand, 26 years, and—
No. 53. Nelly, also a field hand, 30 years, both
No. 54. George Sunday, field hand, age 22, for
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 ny 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. Pine, his wife — (wife ? yes, as long as her
master will permit her to remain such !) age 19,
No. 62. Collar, a plump, little boy of 3 years. The
last bid for them is $3050. Hear what the man be-
hind 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 Tschoup-
itoalas ! they will get more lickings than tomatoes
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 redemp-
tion 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 ? Chris-
tian reader, will you not mourn while so many thou-
sands 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 I for justice is dead, and crime is
Let us return to the * hall of perdition,' in mourn-
No. 63. Squire, 28 years, and
No. 64. Gertrude, cook, washer and ironer, age
about 21. This fine but sad-looking pair bring
No. 65. Richard, field hand, age 19, sold for ex-
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, with-
out 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
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 cele-
brated performer of ' living tableaux,' should exhibit
in the Academy of Music, in the Atheneeum, or in
some other public hall of a 'free city,' he would cer-
tainly take the house by storm, and every nerve of
his justice and freedom-loving audience would pow-
erfully vibrate with indignation against the cold-heart-
ed 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, bend-
ing 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 ac-
cuse the tormentors of her unfortunate people.
James, a strong, intelligent-looking man, gazes in
litter despair upon his youngest cliild, 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 mas-
ters' 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 murmur-
ing. 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-na-
tured 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? *Ido not want the old
woman. Sell her alone !'
Yes ! that man had the last bid. He paid $3000
for James,fc 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 an-
other, 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 laige 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. AVhen 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 sub-
mit 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 six-
teen 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 3'oung 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 pun-
ished 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 Mad-
eline, (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 hap-
py dreams and hopes were at once blasted. Her pit-
iful cries and groans of anguish, in that horrible night,
were heard for several houses from that of her in-
human 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 fol-
lowed 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 vic-
tim, 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 lif re-
ward 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 suff'ers from hernia, a complaint which he contract-
ed while catching a barrel of molasses, which, rolling
down from a hill, endangered the life of a white in-
fant child. Tom is therefore entitled to a reward for
saving human life, and particularly white life. En-
titled 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 after-
wards sold at auction for the sum of $375, fully $125
more than our generous Tom !
No. 85. Who is No. 85 ? Ay, there we find poor
old Betsy, kind old soul ! She labored more than 40
years in her master's house. She had sung and
cradled the children to sleep, carefully protecting
them from all harm. She watched over those chil-
dren like a mother ; and if there were some particu-
larly fine, golden oranges hanging over the porch, she
had to get them down for her darling boy, her mas-
ter's child. And this very child, now a full-grown
man, is selling her to-day at auction for $100.
No.'^e, John Jones, field hand, (suffers from slight
hernia,) 23 years old, and
No. 87. Anna Kentuck, 22 years, and
No. 88. Her little boy, Armstead, 3 years. All to-
gether were sold for $1950. But the stranger who
had the last bid is not able to give the requisite se-
curity, nor is he in possession of cash ; and the poor
family is placed again upon the" platform, to be resold.
The torture begins anew ; they have again to feel the
mortification of being placed in the same category with
cattle. Armstead, the poor little boy, will give you
the best proof that even little children can feel the
atrocity of being thus sold. He begins to cry most
pitifully, and hides his face under the white apron of
his weeping mothei*.
No. 85. Louisa, and
No. 90. Her child, a babe.
Louisa is a splendid young woman, of about 21.
Her stately form and noble features will make you
believe that she is a descendant of pure royal African
blood. She is, perhaps, the grand-daughter of some
princess, who was stolen from her native country by
some pirate who called himself a Christian ! Her
splendid black eyes are proudly surveying the sitting
assemblage, as if scorning the power of those dealers
in human souls. But, suddenly, their flashing light
is gone ; she casts them down, and large drops are
falling upon her darling babe in her arms. Picture a
sleeping babe and its mother for sale at auction ! To
you, gentle mothers of darling babes, I am now
addressing my simple words. If the heart of man
should be cast of iron, or carved out of granite, a lov-
ing mother's heart is soft, like pure melted wax, and
always susceptible to every impression of goodness
and of compassion. She alone can tell how great is
the pain to see her darling babe suffer. She alone
can understand the sufferings of other unfortunate
Mothers ! which among you could bear to see your
own dear babe torn from your arms r But poor Louisa
is forced to see it! Can she bear the dreadful
thought ? Why is she a Christian ? Can that faith
be a true one — can it be a just one — when they who
sell her and her babe call themselves Christians ?
Can she still believe in the Savior of mankind ?
But, be silent, and take a glance at that poor mother !
Though sold for $1275, she presses her babe closer to
her beating bosom ; she raises her large tearful eyes
towards heaven, from whence salvation shall come ;
for she believes in her Savior upon the Cross, in that
Savior who shed his blood for the everlasting freedom
of all human beings.
Keader, a loving mother is a prophetess ; and al-
though she foresees the dangers that shall befall her
darling babe, she also recognizes its deliverance,
and its final happiness, through the almighty hand of
the Lord, who is the Savior of little babes, as well as
the Savior of men and women.
No. 91. Yellow John, field hand, 28 years, and his
companion in his life of misery —
No. 92. Martha. Both were sold for $1800.
The kind reader will please enter a magnificent cas-
tle, situated in a romantic province, upon the charm-
ing borders of the river Seine. The noble Count is
sitting upon a richly gilded fauteuil, leaning with his
arms upon a small table of rosewood. A golden gob-
let and two sealed bottles of the first quality of old
* Chateau-Haut-Briou ' are placed before him upon the
table. A footman, dressed in glittering livery, is
awaiting his orders. But the Count remains silent ;
his eyes are wandering out through the arched win-
dow, until they are fixed upon the sublime scenery
before them. The setting sun is casting its mild rays
upon the beautiful landscape. The soft waves of the
river are reflecting the light with the brilliancy of an
ocean of diamonds. The deep blue sky is partly
painted with purple, green and violet, shining with a
celestial splendor. Droves of cows and flocks of
sheep are descending the fair hills, and are making
for home. Bright and lovely maidens, wearing upon
their black, curled hair beautiful wreaths of flowers,
are dancing like so many fairies upon the green,
flowery turf of the pasture ground, above the stream.
Sir Count ! do you not enjoy the lovely scene be-
fore your eyes ? Are you not a happy man, to be
the owner of so much beauty ?
But the Count hears nothing— sees nothing ; his
mind is absent; he is dreaming of by-gone days.
Suddenly, his face seems to be troubled with a strange
thought — his lips are audibly uttering the words, ' La
Louisiane ! Mon Dieu, que j'etais fou ! Pauvre
Jeannette ! Comment ? Non, non, e'est impossible !
Ca se ne peut pas !'
What is he saying ? Is he not speaking of Louisi-
ana ? He says : ' My God, what a fool I was ! Poor
Jane ! How ? No, no, it is not possible — it cannot
be so !'
What cannot be so ? Who is Jane ? Didn't they
call John's mother Jeannette, or Jane ? Yes, Count !
Indeed, it can be ! Noble Count, while you are liv-
ing in riches and plenty, master of a proud and mag-
nificent castle, your son — yes, Count ! your only son,
is a miserable slave ! He is standing, this very hour,
upon the platform of a slave-auction room ! He, your
own flesh and blood ! Listen, O Count ! listen to
the terrible story ! He — your son — is sold to the
highest bidder like a brute !
Count ! if your heart is able to feel — if you are not
a lump of ice, like the heart of yonder unfeeling
slave-driver — fly from your splendid castle, and go
to parts unknown ; for the terrible vision of the dread-
ful calamity that awaits your only son will haunt you
from the saloon to the sleeping apartment, and from
the garden to the pinnacle of the tower.
But John, the young Count of Chateau-Brillant,
is forced to await the orders of his new master — for
he is a slave !
No. 93. Moses, field hand, 35 ;
No. 94. Matilda, 30 ;
No. 95. Richard, 9 ;
No. 96. Mike, a bright little boy of 6.
Again a splendid family, all the members of which
are * very likely ' ; so says the auctioneer. * Superior
to all sold heretofore.' Moses, a strong, healthy and
intelligent-looking man, is standing upon the platform,
with the feelings of a father whose dear ones and
himself are disposed of like dogs. See, he is strong ;
he is able to fight for his freedom, and no doubt
could overpower half a dozen of those sickly-looking
slave-drivers. Well, why don't he fight to gain his
liberty, and, consequently, be regarded as a man, and
not as a mule ? Because he is well aware that he
has no power as a single man, and that he cannot
combine with his other unfortunate brothers to break
the yoke, as did his great namesake of old several
thousand years ago. Is he afraid of death ? O no,
for he knows perfectly well that his body is not his
own ; that the bodies of his beloved ones do not be-
long to themselves. Who then would suffer, in case
of his death, but his money-making master ? But
Moses has two reasons for not avenging himself. The
first is, he is sure that the attempt to excite his
brothers in bondage to revolt against their masters,
would not only imperil their lives, but in all proba-
bility subject them to an awful death upon the burn-
ing wood-pile. Moses is not afraid of any wood-pile,
whether burning or not ; but he has a good-natured
disposition, and therefore shrinks from involving his
brethren in so awful a catastrophe. H e will continue
to suffer under the whip, rather than cause the death
of his fellows upon the funeral pile.
His second reason is, because he is a Christian.
Every slaveholder knows perfectly well that a
Christian slave is worth much more than one who
has no faith at all. Many of them are sagacious
enough to teach their slaves the gospel, and particu-
larly those words of the apostle Paul : * Servants, be
obedient to them that are your masters, according to
the flesh, with fear and trembling.' Ephes. vi. 5.
Here and there, a slaveholder will forbid his slaves to
attend religious exercises ; but he is a fool, and he
will surely suffer for it.
I happened once to get acquainted with a French-
man, an owner of slaves, who said to me, < Doctor,
I will be obliged to you if you will teach my slaves
your religious opinions ; for though they are to me
ridiculous, I know very well that my slaves, once be-
lieving in your nonsense, will be worth more to me
than they are now.'
Alas ! poor Moses will remain a slave until death
shall break his chains ! But, no ! His chains shall be
broken before ! God grant it !
No. 94. Matilda, wife of Moses, (though she is never
regarded as a wife by the slave code,) seems to be a
very good creature. While she is weeping silently,
she presses her last-born, her darling boy, her Mike,
close to her bosom. Poor child ! Bitter, yes, very
bitter are the tears thy unfortunate mother is weep-
ing over thee ! Alas ! she fears that thou mayest be
sold to a man whose gospel is * money.' O Mike !
will he order you to his infamous gambling saloon ?
Will you learn his tricks, and will he poison your pure
innocent heart with his blasphemies ? Is it his inten-
tion to make you a deceiver, a thief, a robber, a mur-
derer? Dreadful thought! that child of affliction
and of prayers shall perhaps become a candidate for
the gallows ! And why ? For money's sake ! Yes,
to fill a villain's pockets with money !
And Richard — the noble, the smart, the truth-lov-
ing boy, with those cleaf innocent eyes — what shall
become of him when his new master shall prove to
be man of dissolute habits ?
Mourn again, reader ! for virtue and justice shall
succumb, and crime shall be triumphant. That family
brings a good price. These Christians are sold for
$3000 ; and with them their hope, their virtue, their
faith, all that they possess in this world. The cur-
tain falls — the tragedy closes.
No. 97. Jerry, field hand, 42 years, and
No. 98. Molly, 40 years. An old looking couple,
but a kind, a true-hearted one.
« Gentlemen,' says the auctioneer . But be-
fore I proceed, the reader will give me permission to
mention that the four ladies, present at the com-
mencement of this auction sale, did not bid, nor did
they remain for more than half an hour. For the
honor of their sex, I am bound to mention that they
(though most probably themselves owners of slaves,)
seemed to feel very uneasy while present. I believe
that there is a certain natural feeling with the great
majority of the gentler sex, which is more just, and
more open to the truths of the gospel, than we of
the masculine race are able to comprehend.
' Gentlemen,' says the auctioneer, * Jerry and Mol-
ly are the last couple to be sold to-day ; for it is late,
and we have to close. To-morrow at 12 M., the rest
of the slaves, belonging to this gang, fifty-one very
valuable, sound and likely negroes, will be sold to
the highest bidder for cash and approved paper.'
I intend, — Deo volente, — to delineate at some future
time the proceedings of < the sale of to-morrow.'
Let us close, for the present, with poor Jerry and un-
fortunate Molly, who were sold to a not very kind
looking man for $1125.
The chattels are sold. There were ninety-eight
large and small articles — Christian goods — bringing
to their former owner the snug little sum of $80,890.
Will that sum be sufficient to buy ninety-eight souls
of men, baptized in the name of the Father, of the
Son, and of the Holy Spirit ? Friends ! eighty mil-
lions will never buy them from their Father in hea-
ven, for they have been ' bought with a price ' — with
the precious blood of the Son of God !
Surely, if we are convinced that the institution of
slavery is a great wrong against humanity, and a
heavy curse to Christianity, we shall seek to abolish
it without delay.
But how can we do it? By what means can we
induce the slaveholders in the South to give up their
< property,' their 'wealth,' their < merchandise,' their
« valuable goods ? ' Shall we invade the Slave States
with a large army, and liberate the slaves by means
of revolvers, knives, swords, and Sharp's or Minnie
rifles ? I know the Southerners too well, not to be
convinced that every one of them would tight to the
death — that they would lose every drop of their blood,
rather than consent to give up their slaves. The
Southerner is no coward ; he is brave in battle, and
faces death without fear. But, suppose that the
whole body of the oppressed slaves should rise as one
man, and strike for their liberty — would not their
victory be certain ? Yes, but what a victory ! Streams
of blood would stain the ever-blooming soil of the
South, and legions of corpses would become a prey
to the vultures. And whose blood would flow ? That
only of mean and cruel slave-drivers ? Oh, no !
Many thousand corpses of innocent babes would point
up to heaven for vengeance ! Thousands of bloom-
ing young maidens would be slaughtered, causing the
blood-stained soil to remain a curse for many centu-
No, my friends ! No revolver, no rifle, no knife,
no bloodshed nor slaughter shall be necessary to met-
amorphose slaves into freemen. No war is able to
abolish the institution of slavery. There is a stand-
ard which is bound to be victorious in the hottest of
battles — a standard, before the glory of which, the
most stubborn of slave-drivers shall be forced to fall
■upon his knees, crying, ' Lord ! what shall I do to
be saved ?' That standard is the Cross of the Re-
deemer of mankind I If the slaveholders will truly
believe in the powerful supremacy of that standard, it
will be impossible for them to keep any longer
their colored brethren in so shameful a bondage as
Slavery. If the slaveholder of the South would call
himself a Christian, without being a hypocrite, he
will be obliged to do away with Slave laws. Slave
markets, and Slave auctions— in fact, TO ABOLISH
BY J. G. WHITTIER.
[In a publication of L. F. Tasistro, 'Ilandom
Shots and Southern Breezes,' is a description of a
slave auction at New Orleans, at which the auction-
eer recommended the woman on the stand as ' a good
Chbistian ! ']
A Christian ! going, gone !
Who bids for God's own image ? — for His grace
"Which that poor victim of the market-place
Hath in her suffering won }
My God ! can such things be ?
Hast thou not said that whatsoe'er is done
Unto Thy weakest and Thy humblest one,
Is even done to Thee ?
In that sad victim, then,
Child of Thy pitying love, I see Thee stand, J
Once more the jest-word of a mocking band,
Bound, sold, and scourged again !
A Christian up for sale !
Wet with her blood your whips — o'ertask her frame,
Make her life loathsome with your wrong and shame,
Her patience shall not fail !
Cheers for the turbaned Bey
Of robber-peopled Tunis ! he hath torn
The dark slave-dungeons open, and hath borne
Their inmates into day:
But our poor slave in vain
Turns to the Christian shrine her aching eyes —
Its rites will only swell her market price,
And rivet on her chain.
God of all right ! how long
Shall priestly robbers at Thine altar stand,
Lifting in prayer to Thee the bloody hand
And haughty brow of wrong !
O, from the fields of cane,
f'rom the low rice-swamp, from the trader's cell —
From the black slave-ship's foul and loathsome hell.
And coffle's weary chain —
Hoarse, horrible, and strong,
Kises to heaven that agonizing cry,
Filling the arches of the hollow sky,
How LONG, O Lord, how long!
THE SLAVE MIK"GO'S POEM.
To the Editor of the Boston Journal :
[The following remarkable poem was sent me from
the South by a friend, who informs me that the au-
thor of it was a slave named Mingo, a man of won-
derful talents, and on that account oppressed by his
master. While in the slave-prison, he penciled this
poetic gem on one of the beams, which was afterwards
found and copied. My friend adds that Mingo did
escape, at night, but was recaptured and destroyed
by the bloodhounds. My friend promises to send oth-
er poems of his, v^hich, he says, are in possession of
Mingo's aged wife.] C. W.
Good God ! and must I leave them now —
My wife, my children, in their woe ?
'Tis mockery to say I'm sold —
But I forget these chains so cold,
Which goad my bleeding limbs, though high
My reason mounts above the sky.
Dear wife, they cannot sell the rose
Of love, that in my bosom glows.
Remember, as your tears may start,
They cannot sell th' immortal part !
Thou sun, which lightest bond and free,
Tell me, I pray, is liberty
The lot of those who noblest feel,
And oftest to Jehovah kneel ?
Then I inay say, but not with pride,
I feel the rushings of the tide
Of reason and of eloquence,
Which strive and yearn for eminence.
I feel high manhood on me now,
A spirit-glory on my brow ;
I feel a thrill of music roll,
Like angel harpings, through my soul,
"While poesy, with rustling wings,
Upon my spirit rests and sings ;
He sweeps my heart's deep throbbing lyre.
Who touched Isaiah's lips with fire.
To Plymouth Rock, ye breezes, bear
These words from me, as I would dare,
If I were free : Is not our God
Our common Father? — from the sod
He formed us all; then brothers — yes;
We're brothers all, though some oppress.
And grind their equals in the dust.
O Heaven ! tell me, is this just ?
'Tis fiendish. No ! I will not go,
And leave my children here in woe !
God help me ! Out, bright dagger ! gleam.
And find the coward's heart, and stream
With fiendish blood ! This night, this night,
Or I am free, or it shall smite
The master and his slave, and we
Will seek the heavenly liberty !
There will my master's bloody lash
No longer lacerate * * *
Note, The last line was, from some cause, incom-
plete ; perhaps his feelings overcame him at the con-
ception. I concluded to give it as it was. C. W.