On our arrival at St. Louis I went to Dr. Young, and told him that
I did not wish to live with Mr. Walker any longer. I was heartsick at
seeing my fellow-creatures bought and sold. But the Dr. had hired me for
the year, and stay I must. Mr. Walker again commenced purchasing another
gang of slaves. He bought a man of Colonel John O’Fallon, who resided in
the suburbs of the city. This man had a wife and three children. As soon
as the purchase was made, he was put in jail for safe keeping, until
we should be ready to start for New Orleans. His wife visited him while
there, several times, and several times when she went for that purpose
was refused admittance.
In the course of eight or nine weeks Mr. Walker had his cargo of human
flesh made up. There was in this lot a number of old men and women, some
of them with gray locks. We left St. Louis in the steamboat Carlton,
Captain Swan, bound for New Orleans. On our way down, and before we
reached Rodney, the place where we made our first stop, I had to prepare
the old slaves for market. I was ordered to have the old men’s whiskers
shaved off, and the grey hairs plucked out where they were not too
numerous, in which case he had a preparation of blacking to color it,
and with a blacking brush we would put it on. This was new business to
me, and was performed in a room where the passengers could not see us.
These slaves were also taught how old they were by Mr. Walker, and after
going through the blacking process they looked ten or fifteen years
younger; and I am sure that some of those who purchased slaves of Mr.
Walker were dreadfully cheated, especially in the ages of the slaves
which they bought.
We landed at Rodney, and the slaves were driven to the pen in the back
part of the village. Several were sold at this place, during our stay
of four or five days, when we proceeded to Natchez. There we landed at
night, and the gang were put in the warehouse until morning, when they
were driven to the pen. As soon as the slaves are put in these pens,
swarms of planters may be seen in and about them. They knew when Walker
was expected, as he always had the time advertised forehand when he
would be in Rodney, Natchez, and New Orleans. These were the principal
places where he offered his slaves for sale.
When at Natchez the second time, I saw a slave very cruelly whipped. He
belonged to a Mr. Broadwell, a merchant who kept a store on the wharf.
The slave’s name was Lewis. I had known him several years, as he was
formerly from St. Louis. We were expecting a steamboat down the river,
in which we were to take passage for New Orleans. Mr. Walker sent me
to the landing to watch for the boat, ordering me to inform him on its
arrival. While there I went into the store to see Lewis. I saw a slave
in the store, and asked him where Lewis was. Said he, “They have got
Lewis hanging between the heavens and the earth.” I asked him what he
meant by that. He told me to go into the warehouse and see. I went in,
and found Lewis there. He was tied up to a beam, with his toes just
touching the floor. As there was no one in the warehouse but himself,
I inquired the reason of his being in that situation. He said Mr.
Broadwell had sold his wife to a planter six miles from the city, and
that he had been to visit her--that he went in the night, expecting to
return before daylight, and went without his master’s permission. The
patrol had taken him up before he reached his wife. He was put in jail,
and his master had to pay for his catching and keeping, and that was
what he was tied up for.
Just as he finished his story, Mr. Broadwell came in, and inquired what
I was doing there. I knew not what to say, and while I was thinking what
reply to make he struck me over the head with the cowhide, the end of
which struck me over my right eye, sinking deep into the flesh, leaving
a scar which I carry to this day. Before I visited Lewis he had received
fifty lashes. Mr. Broad-well gave him fifty lashes more after I came
out, as I was afterwards informed by Lewis himself.
The next day we proceeded to New Orleans, and put the gang in the same
negro-pen which we occupied before. In a short time the planters came
flocking to the pen to purchase slaves. Before the slaves were exhibited
for sale, they were dressed and driven out into the yard. Some were set
to dancing, some to jumping, some to singing, and some to playing cards.
This was done to make them appear cheerful and happy. My business was to
see that they were placed in those situations before the arrival of the
purchasers, and I have often set them to dancing when their cheeks were
wet with tears. As slaves were in good demand at that time, they were
all soon disposed of, and we again set out for St. Louis.
On our arrival, Mr. Walker purchased a farm five or six miles from the
city. He had no family, but made a housekeeper of one of his female
slaves. Poor Cynthia! I knew her well. She was a quadroon, and one of
the most beautiful women I ever saw. She was a native of St. Louis, and
bore an irreproachable character for virtue and propriety of conduct.
Mr. Walker bought her for the New Orleans market, and took her down with
him on one of the trips that I made with him. Never shall I forget the
circumstances of that voyage! On the first night that we were on board
the steamboat, he directed me to put her into a state-room he had
provided for her, apart from the other slaves.
I had seen too much of the workings of slavery not to know what this
meant. I accordingly watched him into the state-room, and listened to
hear what passed between them. I heard him make his base offers, and her
reject them. He told her that if she would accept his vile proposals,
he would take her back with him to St. Louis, and establish her as his
housekeeper on his farm. But if she persisted in rejecting them, he
would sell her as a field hand on the worst plantation on the river.
Neither threats nor bribes prevailed, however, and he retired,
disappointed of his prey.
The next morning poor Cynthia told me what had passed, and bewailed
her sad fate with floods of tears. I comforted and encouraged her all
I could; but I foresaw but too well what the result must be. Without
entering into any further particulars, suffice it to say that Walker
performed his part of the contract at that time. He took her back to St.
Louis, established her as his mistress and housekeeper at his farm, and
before I left, he had two children by her. But, mark the end! Since I
have been at the North, I have been credibly informed that Walker has
been married, and, as a previous measure, sold poor Cynthia and her
four children (she having had two more since I came away) into hopeless
bondage!
He soon commenced purchasing to make up the third gang. We took
steamboat, and went to Jefferson City, a town on the Missouri river.
Here we landed, and took stage for the interior of the state. He bought
a number of slaves as he passed the different farms and villages. After
getting twenty-two or twenty-three men and women, we arrived at St.
Charles, a village on the banks of the Missouri. Here he purchased a
woman who had a child in her arms, appearing to be four or five weeks
old.
We had been travelling by land for some days, and were in hopes to have
found a boat at this place for St. Louis, but were disappointed. As no
boat was expected for some days, we started for St. Louis by land.
Mr. Walker had purchased two horses. He rode one, and I the other. The
slaves were chained together, and we took up our line of march, Mr.
Walker taking the lead, and I bringing up the rear. Though the distance
was not more than twenty miles, we did not reach it the first day. The
road was worse than any that I have ever travelled.
[Illustration: 0048]
Soon after we left St. Charles the young child grew very cross, and kept
up a noise during the greater part of the day. Mr. Walker complained
of its crying several times, and told the mother to stop the child’s
d------d noise, or he would. The woman tried to keep the child from
crying, but could not. We put up at night with an acquaintance of Mr.
Walker, and in the morning, just as we were about to start, the child
again commenced crying. Walker stepped up to her, and told her to give
the child to him. The mother tremblingly obeyed. He took the child by
one arm, as you would a cat by the leg, walked into the house, and said
to the lady,
“Madam, I will make you a present of this little nigger; it keeps such a
noise that I can’t bear it.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the lady.
The mother, as soon as she saw that her child was to be left, ran up to
Mr. Walker, and falling upon her knees, begged him to let her have her
child; she clung around his legs, and cried, “Oh, my child! my child!
master, do let me have my child! oh, do, do, do! I will stop its crying
if you will only let me have it again.” When I saw this woman crying
for her child so piteously, a shudder--a feeling akin to horror--shot
through my frame. I have often since in imagination heard her crying for
her child:--
None but those who have been in a slave state, and who have seen the
American slave-trader engaged in his nefarious traffic, can estimate the
sufferings their victims undergo. If there is one feature of American
slavery more abominable than another, it is that which sanctions
the buying and selling of human beings. The African slave-trade was
abolished by the American Congress some twenty years since; and now, by
the laws of the country, if an American is found engaged in the African
slave-trade, he is considered a pirate; and if found guilty of such, the
penalty would be death.
Although the African slave-trader has been branded as a pirate, men
are engaged in the traffic in slaves in this country, who occupy high
positions in society, and hold offices of honor in the councils of the
nation; and not a few have made their fortunes by this business.
After the woman’s child had been given away, Mr. Walker commanded her to
return into the ranks with the other slaves. Women who had children
were not chained, but those that had none were. As soon as her child was
disposed of she was chained in the gang.
The following song I have often heard the slaves sing, when about to be
carried to the far south. It is said to have been composed by a slave.
“See these poor souls from Africa
Transported to America;
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia--
Will you go along with me?
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia--
Come sound the jubilee!
See wives and husbands sold apart,
Their children’s screams will break my heart;--
There’s a better day a coming--
Will you go along with me?
There’s a better day a coming,
Go sound the jubilee!
O, gracious Lord! when shall it be,
That we poor souls shall all be free!
Lord, break them slavery powers,
Will you go along with me?
Lord, break them slavery powers,
Go sound the jubilee!
Dear Lord, dear Lord, when slavery ‘ll cease,
Then we poor souls will have our peace;--
There’s a better day a coming--
Will you go along with me?
There’s a better day a coming,
Go sound the jubilee!”
We finally arrived at Mr. Walker’s farm. He had a house built during
our absence to put slaves in. It was a kind of domestic jail. The slaves
were put in the jail at night, and worked on the farm during the day.
They were kept here until the gang was completed, when we again started
for New Orleans, on board the steamboat North America, Capt. Alexander
Scott. We had a large number of slaves in this gang. One, by the name of
Joe, Mr. Walker was training up to take my place, as my time was nearly
out, and glad was I. We made our first stop at Vicksburg, where we
remained one week and sold several slaves.
Mr. Walker, though not a good master, had not flogged a slave since I
had been with him, though he had threatened me. The slaves were kept in
the pen, and he always put up at the best hotel, and kept his wines in
his room, for the accommodation of those who called to negotiate with
him for the purchase of slaves. One day, while we were at Vicksburg,
several gentlemen came to see him for that purpose, and as usual the
wine was called for. I took the tray and started around with it, and
having accidentally filled some of the glasses too full, the gentlemen
spilled the wine on their clothes as they went to drink. Mr. Walker
apologized to them for my carelessness, but looked at me as though he
would see me again on this subject.
After the gentlemen had left the room, he asked me what I meant by my
carelessness, and said that he would attend to me. The next morning he
gave me a note to carry to the jailer, and a dollar in money to give
to him. I suspected that all was not right, so I went down near the
landing, where I met with a sailor, and, walking up to him, asked him
if he would be so kind as to read the note for me. He read it over, and
then looked at me. I asked him to tell me what was in it. Said he,
“They are going to give you hell.”
“Wy?” said I.
He said, “This is a note to have you whipped, and says that you have a
dollar to pay for it.”
He handed me back the note, and off I started. I knew not what to do,
but was determined not to be whipped. I went up to the jail--took a
look at it, and walked off again. As Mr. Walker was acquainted with
the jailer, I feared that I should be found out if I did not go, and be
treated in consequence of it still worse.
While I was meditating on the subject, I saw a colored man about my size
walk up, and the thought struck me in a moment to send him with my note.
I walked up to him, and asked him who he belonged to. He said he was a
free man, and had been in the city but a short time. I told him I had
a note to go into the jail, and get a trunk to carry to one of the
steamboats; but was so busily engaged that I could not do it, although I
had a dollar to pay for it. He asked me if I would not give him the job.
I handed him the note and the dollar, and off he started for the jail.
I watched to see that he went in, and as soon as I saw the door close
behind him, I walked around the corner, and took my station, intending
to see how my friend looked when he came out. I had been there but
a short time, when a colored man came around the corner, and said to
another colored man with whom he was acquainted--“They are giving a
nigger scissors in the jail.”
“What for?” said the other. The man continued,
“A nigger came into the jail, and asked for the jailer. The jailer came
out, and he handed him a note, and said he wanted to get a trunk. The
jailer told him to go with him, and he would give him the trunk. So he
took him into the room, and told the nigger to give up the dollar. He
said a man had given him the dollar to pay for getting the trunk. But
that lie would not answer. So they made him strip himself, and then they
tied him down, and are now whipping him.”
I stood by all the while listening to their talk, and soon found out
that the person alluded to was my customer. I went into the street
opposite the jail, and concealed myself in such a manner that I could
not be seen by any one coming out. I had been there but a short time,
when the young man made his appearance, and looked around for me. I,
unobserved, came forth from my hiding-place, behind a pile of brick, and
he pretty soon saw me, and came up to me complaining bitterly, saying
that I had played a trick upon him. I denied any knowledge of what the
note contained, and asked him what they had done to him. He told me in
substance what I heard the man tell who had come out of the jail.
“Yes,” said he, “they whipped me and took my dollar, and gave me this
note.”
He showed me the note which the jailer had given him, telling him to
give it to his master. I told him I would give him fifty cents for
it--that being all the money I had. He gave it to me and took his money.
He had received twenty lashes on his bare back, with the negro-whip.
I took the note and started for the hotel where I had left Mr. Walker.
Upon reaching the hotel, I handed it to a stranger whom I had not seen
before, and requested him to read it to me. As near as I can recollect,
it was as follows:--
“Dear Sir:--By your direction, I have given your boy twenty lashes. He
is a very saucy boy, and tried to make me believe that he did not belong
to you, and I put it on to him well for lying to me.
“I remain
“Your obedient servant.”
It is true that in most of the slave-holding cities, when a gentleman
wishes his servants whipped, he can send him to the jail and have it
done. Before I went in where Mr. Walker was, I wet my cheeks a little,
as though I had been crying. He looked at me, and inquired what was the
matter. I told him that I had never had such a whipping in my life, and
handed him the note. He looked at it and laughed;--“And so you told him
that you did not belong to me?”
“Yes, sir,” said I. “I did not know that there was any harm in that.” He
told me I must behave myself, if I did not want to be whipped again.
This incident shows how it is that slavery makes its victims lying and
mean; for which vices it afterwards reproaches them, and uses them as
arguments to prove that they deserve no better fate. Had I entertained
the same views of right and wrong which I now do, I am sure I should
never have practised the deception upon that poor fellow which I did. I
know of no act committed by me while in slavery which I have regretted
more than that; and I heartily desire that it may be at some time or
other in my power to make him amends for his vicarious sufferings in my
behalf.