During the time they remain in the mart for sale, few men pass their time with more apparent contentment. There are two extensive markets for slaves, opposite to each other, on the road to Washington, three miles from Natchez. These I have passed at least once a week for more than a year, and I have always seen the slaves either dancing to the sound of the violin, played by one of their number, playing at marbles, quoits, practising gymnastics, lounging, sleeping in the sun, or idling about the door, while their masters, the "slave traders," regardless of them, were playing at cards or backgammon, smoking or sitting about the door conversing together, or with a buyer; their presence not producing the least restraint upon the noisy merriment around them. But when a purchaser stops and desires to look at the "lot," the slaves at once leave their several amusements, and draw up into a line, for inspection and purchase; and when the stranger leaves, taking with him one or more of their number, to whom they bid a cheerful good-bye, they return to their former pursuits wholly unimpressed by the event that has just taken place.
Negroes, when brought into market, are always anxious to be sold; and to be sold first is a great desideratum, for in their estimation it is an evidence of their superiority. "None but poor nigger stay for be sol' last." Hence, when a purchaser enters, they strive to appear before him to the best advantage, and by their manner assiduously invite attention to themselves. There are but two things which at all depress the mind of the slave in market; these are, the possibility of obtaining a bad master, and that of being separated from their relations. The first, however, seldom troubles them, and the degree in which they are governed by this apprehension depends wholly upon their former treatment. With individuals who have been blessed with a partial master it may weigh much, but with the generality of slaves it is a light consideration. The latter apprehension is in a great measure lessened by a certainty of being sold together to the same individual, if possible. It is a rule seldom deviated from, to sell families and relations together, if practicable, and if not, at least to masters residing in the neighbourhood of each other. A negro trader, in my presence, refused to sell a negro girl, for whom a planter offered a high price, because he would not also purchase her sister—"for," said the trader, "they are much attached to each other, and when their mother died I promised her I would not part them."
Relatives, except husband and wife, often prefer being sold to different masters in the same neighbourhood. This is to be attributed to the roving propensity of their race, which induces them to prefer a separation of this nature, for a pretence to visit from one plantation to another on Sabbaths and Christmas holydays, at which season the slaves have a temporary freedom for several days. Then the highways, lanes, and streets, in town and country, are filled with gay parties on foot or on plough-horses, caparisoned for the occasion, as happy as the total absence of care, thoughtlessness of to-morrow, plenty of whiskey, and a cessation of all labour, can make them.
FOOTNOTE:
[16] Male slaves of any age under forty are always denominated boys.
XL.
Towns of Mississippi—Naming estates—The influence of towns on the social relations of the planters—Southern refinement—Colleges—Oakland—Clinton—Jefferson—History of the latter—Collegiate system of instruction—Primary departments—Quadrennial classes.
The towns and villages of Mississippi, as in European states, are located perfectly independent of each other, isolated among its forests, and often many leagues apart, leaving in the intervals large tracts of country covered with plantations, and claiming no minuter subdivision than that of "county." Natchez, for instance, is a corporation one mile square, but from the boundaries of the city to Woodville, the next incorporated town south, there is an interval of thirty-eight miles. It is necessary for the planters who reside between towns so far asunder, to have some more particular address, than the indefinite one arising from their vicinity to one or other of these towns. Hence has originated the pleasing custom of naming estates, as in England; and names so given are always regarded by the planters themselves, and by the community, as an inseparable part of their address. These names are generally selected with taste, such as "Monmouth," "Laurel-hill," "Grange," "Magnolia grove," "The Forest," "Cottage," "Briars," "Fatherland," and "Anchorage"—the last given by a retired navy officer to his plantation. The name is sometimes adopted with reference to some characteristic of the domain, as "The Oaks," "China grove," "New Forest," &c., but more frequently it is a mere matter of fancy. Towns in this state have usually originated from the location of a county seat, after the formation of a new county. Here the court-house is placed, and forms the centre of an area which is soon filled with edifices and inhabitants. If the county lies on the river, another town may arise, for a shipping port, but here the accumulation of towns usually ceases. A county seat, and a cotton mart, are all that an agricultural country requires. The towns in this state are thus dispersed two or three to each county, nor so long as this is a planting country, will there be any great increase to their number, although in wealth and importance they may rival, particularly the shipping ports, the most populous places in the valley of the west. In these towns are the banks, the merchants, the post offices, and the several places of resort for business or pleasure that draw the planter and his family from his estate. Each town is the centre of a circle which extends many miles around it into the country, and daily attracts all within its influence. The ladies come in their carriages "to shop," the gentlemen, on horseback, to do business with their commission merchants, visit the banks, hear the news, dine together at the hotels, and ride back in the evening. The southern town is properly the "Exchange" for the neighbouring planters, and the "Broadway" for their wives and daughters. And as no plantation is without a private carriage, the number of these gay vehicles, filling the streets of the larger towns on pleasant mornings in the winter, is surprising. I have counted between thirty and forty private carriages in the streets of Natchez in one morning. In a small country village, I once numbered seventeen, standing around a Methodist chapel. Showy carriages and saddle horses are the peculiar characteristics of the "moving spectacle" in the streets of south-western towns.
Every village is a nucleus of southern society, to which the least portion is generally contributed by itself. When a public ball is given by the bachelors, in one of these towns—for private parties are scarcely known—the tickets of invitation fly into the retirement of the plantations, within the prescribed circle, often to the distance of thirty miles. Thus families, who reside several leagues apart, on opposite sides of the town, and who might otherwise never associate, unless on "change," or in "shopping," meet together, like the inhabitants of one city. This state of things unites, in a social bond, the intelligent inhabitants of a large extent of country, who are nearly equally wealthy, and creates a state of society in the highest degree favourable to hospitality and social feeling. These social "circles" often revolve within one another, and sometimes enlarge, until they embrace several towns. The Mississippians are remarkable for their "locomotivity;" an organ which they have plainly developed, if we reason, as phrenologists sometimes do, from effect to cause—and whose existence is manifest from their propensity annually to depopulate their state, by taking northern tours during the summer months. During the season of gayety, in the winter months, the public assemblies and private coteries of Natchez are unsurpassed by those of any other city, in the elegance, refinement, or loveliness of the individuals who compose them. If you will bear in mind, that the southern females of wealth are usually educated in the most finished style, at the first female seminaries in the north, and, until recently, not seldom in Europe; and recollect the personal beauty, sprightliness, and extreme refinement of the southern lady, you will not be surprised that elegant women grace the private circles, and shine in the gay assemblies of southern cities.