The Brass Bell; or, The Chariot of Death

by Eugène Sue

Obedient to the "horse-dealer's" orders, whom I followed as quiet and submissive as a dog does his master, I descended the stairs which led from my cell to the shed. The descent was affected not without pain to my limbs owing to the shortness of the chain. In the shed I found several captives, among whom I had passed my first night, lying upon straw. No doubt their recovery was far enough advanced to admit of their being put up for sale. Other slaves whose heads had likewise been shaved, either by trick or by force, also wore wreaths on their foreheads, inscriptions on their breasts, handcuffs on their hands and heavy shackles on their feet. They had started, under the supervision of armed keepers, to defile by a door which opened on the town square. It was there the auction sale was to be held. Nearly all the captives seemed to me to be mournful, depressed and submissive like myself. They lowered their eyes like men ashamed to look at one another. Among the last, I recognized two or three men of my own tribe. One of them passed close to me, and said in a low voice:

"Guilhern, we are shaven; but hair will grow again, and nails also."

I comprehended that the Gaul wished to give me to understand that some day would come the hour of vengeance. But in the great cowardice which paralyzed me since my awakening, such was my fear of the "horse-dealer" that I pretended not to understand my countryman.[26]

The space engaged by the "horse-dealer" for the auction was not a great way from the shed where we had been kept prisoners. We speedily arrived at a sort of booth or stall, surrounded on three sides by planks, covered with canvas, and with the floor strewn with straw. Other booths, similar to it, were arranged to the right and left of a long space like a street. In this space Roman officers and soldiery walked in crowds, together with the buyers and sellers of slaves and various other men who follow in the wake of armies. They looked at the captives chained in the booths with a jeering and insulting curiosity. My master had informed me that his stall in the market was directly opposite that of his companion in whose possession were the two children. A cloth was lowered over the opening. I only heard, a few moments later, imprecations and piercing shrieks, mingled with mournful moans, from women, who were crying in Gallic:

"Death, death, but not disgrace!"

"Those timorous fools are playing the vestals, because they are stripped naked to be shown to the customers," said the "horse-dealer," who had kept near me. Presently he took me to the rear of the booth. On the way I counted nine captives, some in their youth, others middle-aged, and only two were past their prime. Some were seated on the straw, their faces turned down to escape the looks of the curious, others were lying prone, their faces to the ground; a few stood erect casting fierce glances around them. The keepers, their scourges in their hands, their swords at their sides, kept watch. The "horse-dealer" pointed to a wooden cage, a sort of large box at the back of the booth, and said to me:

"Friend Bull, you are the pearl, the carbuncle of my assortment. Enter this cage. The comparisons which would be made between you and my other slaves would lower their value too much. As a thrifty merchant, I will try to sell first what is of least value. One sells the small fry before the big fish."[27]

I obeyed. I went into the cage, and the door was closed upon me. I found that I could stand up. An opening through the top permitted me to breathe without being seen from the outside. Just then a bell sounded. It was the signal for the sale. On all sides arose the squeaky voices of the auctioneers announcing the bids of the purchasers of human flesh. The merchants bragged their slaves in the Roman tongue, and invited the purchaser into their booths. Several customers entered to inspect the "horse-dealer's" stock. Without understanding the words that he spoke, I guessed by the inflections of his voice that he strove to capture them, while the auctioneer all the while called out the bids. From time to time a loud tumult arose in the booth, mingled with the sound of the keepers' lashes, and the curses of the dealer. Evidently they were scourging some of my companions in slavery who refused to follow the new master to whom they had been "knocked down." But speedily the clamor ceased, choked off by the gag. Other times I heard the trampings of a confused struggle, desperate, though muffled. These struggles also came to an end under the efforts of the keepers. I was frightened at the courage displayed by the captives. I no longer understood resistance or boldness. I was plunged into my cowardly sluggishness. All at once the door of my cage opened, and the "horse-dealer" cried out in great glee:

"All sold, save you, my pearl, my carbuncle. And by Mercury, to whom I promise an offering in recognition of my day's profits, I believe I have found for you a purchaser by private contract."

My master made me step out of my cage; I traversed the booth, in which I saw not a single slave left. I found myself face to face with a gray haired man, of a cold, hard countenance. He wore the military dress, limped very badly, and supported himself on a vine-wood cane, which was the mark of the centurion rank in the Roman army. The dealer lifted from my shoulders the woolen covering in which I was wrapped, and left me stripped to the waist; he then made me get out of my breeches also. My master, with the air of a man proud of his merchandise, thus exposed my nakedness to the customer. Several of the curious, assembled outside of the stall, looked in and contemplated me. I dropped my eyes in shame and sorrow, not in anger.