In consequence of the following advertisement in the Picayune, I screwed up my feelings, and resolved for once at least in my life to see a slave-auction. I was the more disposed to attend this, as it was distinctly stated that they would be sold in families. I should not therefore have to behold the wife torn away from the husband, the husband from the wife, the parent from the child, or the child from the parent, as is so commonly done.
"COTTON-FIELD HANDS.—By Beard, Calhoun, and Co., auctioneers.—Will be sold at auction, on Friday, the 5th inst., at 12 o'clock, at Bank's Arcade, thirty-seven Field Slaves; comprising eighteen from one plantation, and fourteen from another. All acclimated Negroes. To be sold in Families. Full particulars at sale."
"F. 4."
Setting off a few minutes before 12, after about half-a-dozen inquiries, and as many "guessing" answers, I found "Bank's Arcade." It was very near the Presbyterian church, in which I had heard such excellent sermons on the preceding Sabbath. It was a large open building: one side occupied as a bar for the retail of strong drinks, and the other fitted up for auctioneering purposes,—there being conveniences for three or four of the trade to exercise their vocation at the same time. One end was used for the sale of books and other publications, chiefly novels; and the other for the exhibition of fancy goods.
As I got in at one end, I heard a voice—with that peculiar, twirling, rapid, nasal twang, 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 coarse 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."