“St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans, Jan. 25.
“On Tuesday evening last, at half-past eight o’clock, while passing up St. Charles Street in company with F. S. Schell, Esq., the artist of ‘Frank Leslie’s Pictorial,’, who is attached to the Banks Expedition, I was suddenly accosted by two colored women, one of whom, a beautiful mulatto very tastily attired, besought me to protect her from the watchmen, who, she said, were following close behind her on the opposite side of the street, and were about to arrest her and her mother for being out without passes.
“I offered her and her mother all the protection in my power until they should reach their home, which was but a few blocks distant; and I had but scarcely made the proffer, when two powerful and muscular watchmen came running across the street, club in hand, and at once proceeded to arrest the women. I inquired of the officers by what authority they arrested slaves or free colored people. They informed me that they were acting under orders received from the chief of police, Col. Jonas H. French.
“The women begged, with tears in their eyes, for their liberty, that they might return to their homes, where a sister was lying dangerously ill, and towards whom they were hastening when seized by the watchmen. Being enough of a ‘Yankee abolitionist’ to feel a glow of indignation at this flagrant violation of human rights, and, as I supposed, illegal assumption of power, I proceeded to the prison or watch-house, adjoining the city hall, from the roof of which flies the flag of freedom.
“What a sight was revealed to me on my visit to that prison! Such a scene may I never be permitted to visit again! Securing permission, I went into the corridor, from which lead the cells. There I saw, in one cell, fifteen feet by twenty feet, fifty colored women and girls packed like so many cattle: there were six or eight wooden berths, with pine mattresses and oak pillows, for these poor creatures to rest their limbs upon. Of course, the most of them were obliged to stand uprightly, or lie upon the wet flooring of the cell.
“I never shall forget the emotions that arose within my bosom as I stood intently gazing upon the sorrowing faces of these unfortunates as they cast wistful glances through the heavy iron bars of their cell, and in supplicating tones implored me to secure them their release. One pretty young girl of fifteen, with a beautiful face, whose complexion was that of a pretty Boston brunette, and with long flowing hair, slightly crimpled, was sobbing as though her heart would break for her mother. She was terrified at the surroundings of her new position, and the hideous yells of drunken soldiers and sailors in the next cell.
“There were confined in this cell several women, who, in New York or Boston, would pass for white women without the slightest difficulty or suspicion. And there were many darker countenances in that cell, that were intelligent, and indicated the existence and beating of hearts beneath those tinged and sable hues. In the opposite cells were over one hundred colored men and boys of all colors, from the ebony, thick-lipped African, to the mulatto, and delicately-tinged colored man. They were there from all ages, from the little child of nine years, to the aged and decrepit negro of seventy-five. There were the dandy darkey, slave and free; the laborer, slave and free; the mechanic and waiter, slave and free.
“Some of these men were the fathers, husbands, and brothers of the women in the opposite cells. It was but a little while after, when, the jailer having barred the door which leads into the stone corridor, I heard distinctly the swelling notes of ‘John Brown’s body lies mouldering,’ &c., and shortly after the grand chorus of an ancient Methodist hymn, ‘For Jesus’ sake, we’ll serve the Lord.’ The next evening, I visited the cells, and found that nearly all who had been imprisoned the previous evening had been released on paying a fine of one dollar and a quarter for free people, and one dollar and a half for slaves.
“There were several likely-looking negro-girls still in the cell, and three mothers. All of these mothers had sons in the Union army, enlisted in the colored Native-Guard Regiment. One of them had three sons in one regiment; the other had two sons, her only children; and the only child of the third, a boy of nineteen years, was a sergeant in a colored company. These mothers were all the property of rebels; for they told me their masters and mistresses swore they would ‘never take the oath of allegiance to the abolition Yankee Government.’ I asked them how they happened to be imprisoned, and was informed that their masters and mistresses had them ‘sent to prison for safe-keeping.’
“One mother told me she was always treated well until her sons joined the negro regiment, since which time she had been whipped and otherwise sadly abused. She was not allowed so much liberty at home, and her mistress had put her off on a short allowance of food, because she did not prevent her sons from enlisting.