American Scenes, and Christian Slavery - Ebenezer Davies
Released from our stranded position, we found ourselves in a few
minutes lashed to the monster's side, and completely in his power. Here
we were, in the same dread position in which the day before we felt
horrified to see others! From some of the officers, our captain
obtained another newspaper. It was the _New Orleans Daily Picayune_ for
January 26. Getting hold of it, I found whole columns of slave-sale
advertisements. A few specimens will illustrate better than any
description the state of things in this "land of liberty!"
"NEGROES FOR SALE.--The subscribers No. 56, Esplanade-street, have just
received a lot of valuable Slaves from Virginia and Maryland,
consisting of Mechanics, Farm Hands, and House Servants, and have made
_arrangements not to be surpassed_ in this market for a _regular
supply_ from the above markets, as also Alabama. We hazard nothing in
saying, if our former friends, and others wishing to purchase good
servants or hands, will give us a call, they shall not be disappointed.
"N.B. All Negroes sold by the undersigned are fully guaranteed.
"SLATTER & LOCKETT,
"56, Esplanade-street."
"n11--6m."
"FOR SALE.--A likely Mulatto Negress, aged twenty-two years,--she is a
first-rate cook, and a good washer and ironer, besides being a
tolerable good seamstress.
"ANDERSON & BURNET,
"38, Camp-street."
"J26."
"SLAVES FOR SALE.--I have just received, and offer for sale, a very
likely lot of Virginia Negroes. Those wishing to purchase will do well
to give me a call at my office, No. 157, Gravier-street, between
Carondelet and Baronne streets. I will be _constantly receiving_
Negroes from Virginia and North Carolina during the winter.
"C. M. RUTHERFORD."
"n13--6m."
"SLAVES FOR SALE.--No. 165, Gravier-street.--The subscriber has always
on hand a number of Slaves, consisting of House Servants, Field Hands,
and Mechanics, which will be sold low for cash or negotiable paper.
Persons desirous of purchasing will find it to their interest to call
and examine. The subscriber will also receive and sell on consignment
any Negro that may be intrusted to his care.
"He would also respectfully notify persons engaged in the Slave Trade,
that he is prepared to board them and their Slaves on the most
reasonable terms.
"WM. H. MERRITT."
"o1--6m."
"References--J.A. Barelli, C.J. Mansoni."
"ONE HUNDRED NEGROES.--For Sale at No. 13, Moreau-street.--All of which
have just been received from Maryland and Virginia. My old friends, and
others wishing to purchase Slaves, will find it to their interest to
call on me before purchasing elsewhere. Also will receive _large
shipments during the season_ from the above States.
"R. R. BEASLEY,
"13, Moreau-street."
"d31--3m."
Runaway slaves seem to be constantly advertised, with (as in the case
of ship advertisements) a small woodcut figure representing them in the
very act of making their escape. Indeed, almost everything advertised
is accompanied by its picture,--ships, houses, bonnets, boots, leeches,
oysters, and so forth. Even a strayed horse or a strayed cow is
advertised with a picture representing the animal in the very act of
going astray. On the same principle, and in like manner, human chattels
assuming their natural right to go where they please, are advertised
with a woodcut representing them as bending forward in the act of
running, and carrying with them a small bundle containing their scanty
wardrobe,--a pitiable figure! And yet this is done, not to awaken
sympathy, but to excite vigilance, as in the following instances, which
I have picked out of the _Picayune_:--
"ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS REWARD.--The aforesaid sum will be given to any
person who will bring back to the undersigned the negro-girl Eugenia,
and her mulatto child aged two years. Said slave has been purloined or
enticed away by her former owner, Madame Widow Decaux, who secretly
went out of this State on the 12th December, 1846. Said Widow Decaux is
well known in New Orleans as a notorious swindler, having been
prosecuted for having pawned logs of wood to a merchant of this city
instead of dry goods. She has a scar on her forehead, and several
others on her neck, and is accompanied by her aged mother, and her boy
aged ten years.
"J. B. DUPEIRE."
"j7--15t*."
"Ran away from the subscriber, on the 20th November last, a negro man
named Sandy, about twenty-five years of age, five feet five inches
high, very dark complexion, speaks both French and English, _shows the
mark of the whip very much_. A liberal reward will be paid for his
apprehension, either by confining in any gaol, so that I can secure
him, or his delivery to me at Plaquemine, La.
"W. H. CARR."
"J20--3tW."
And yet the editor of this very paper, in his leading article,
reviewing the past, (that day being the tenth anniversary of its own
existence,) coolly says, "In entering upon our eleventh anniversary,
how different the spectacle! Industry in every quarter of the land
receives its meet reward; Commerce is remunerated by wholesome gains;
_Comfort blesses the toil of the labourer_(!) and Hope encourages the
enterprise of all the industrial classes of our citizens."
As the day advanced, my fever returned; and I was obliged to go below.
A furious tempest arose, so that even our "monster" could scarcely get
along. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain fell in
torrents. It was a terrific day! As night approached, our captain told
us the vessel could not then be got any further,--it was about two
miles from the city; and if we particularly wished to go ashore, we
must get ready directly, and go with him in the steam-tug. Anxious for
a good night's rest, on shore we resolved to go. I had to turn out in
that state of profuse perspiration which always succeeds the fever, and
my wife hurriedly selected a few necessary things. Poor thing! she was
almost overwhelmed with the trying circumstances in which she was
placed,--thousands of miles from home--about to enter a place in which
she knew not a single soul--her husband ill, and herself an invalid!
But there was no help for it. Amidst torrents of rain, we made the
fearful transition from the ship to the tug, while both vessels were in
violent agitation. It was done. And now we were in the "monster's" own
bosom, expecting every moment his bowels to burst, and send us into
eternity. The noise of the engine, the grunting of the steam, the
raging of the wind, the pelting of the rain, and the roaring of the
thunder, made it almost impossible to hear anything besides; but I
managed to shout in my wife's ear the natural, though not very
consolatory question, "Were we ever in so fearful a position before?"
"Never!" (and we had had some experience of storms by both land and
sea) was her awe-stricken reply.
We detached ourselves from the sailing-vessel; but, with all the power
of steam, we could scarcely get along. At last the "monster's"
bellowing was hushed,--the tremor ceased,--we were there! But how to
get ashore was still a difficulty. It was about 100 yards off. Planks,
however, were eventually placed so as to enable us to descend from our
lofty "tug" into a ship at anchor, from that into another, from that
again into a third, and from that at length on _terra firma_.
The hour was between 7 and 8 p.m.; and we were taken to a
ship-chandler's store, while our kind captain went to get a chaise for
us. The store was closed; but the owner and three other gentlemen were
there, seated before a comfortable coal fire, apparently enjoying
themselves after the business of the day. They received us very
courteously, and gave us chairs by the fireside. The storm of that day
they told us had done much harm to the shipping, and was severer than
any other they had experienced during the last seven years. While the
conversation was going on, _plash_ made one, _plash_ made another,
_plash_ made a third, by spurting a certain brownish secretion on the
floor! I had often heard of this as an American habit, but always
thought our cousins in this matter (as in many others) were
caricatured. Here, however, was the actual fact, and that in the
presence of a lady! Yet these were apparently very respectable men.
Having waited about a quarter of an hour, anxiously listening for the
rumbling of the expected wheels, I heard in the distance a strange kind
of noise, resembling that of a fire-shovel, a pair of tongs, a poker,
and an iron hoop tied loosely together with a string, and drawn over
the pavement! "What in the world is that?" said I. "It is the chaise,"
was the answer. The vehicle was quickly at the door. In we were
bundled, and orders given to drive us to the "St. Charles's." We
scarcely knew what this "St. Charles's" was; but, as all with whom we
had conversed seemed to take it for granted that we should go thither,
and as any one _saint_ was to us as good as any other, we echoed, "To
the St. Charles's." And now began such a course of jolting as we had
never before experienced. It seemed as if all the gutters and
splash-holes in the universe had been collected together, and we had to
drive over the whole. This continued about half an hour, by which we
learned that we were at first much further from the "St. Charles's"
than we supposed. The machine at last stopped, and we alighted,
thankful to have escaped a complete stoppage of our breath.
We were there. A waiter (he was not to be mistaken,--he bore a family
resemblance to all the waiters of the world) was instantly at the
coach-door, to help us _out_ and to help us _in_. He conducted us into
a lobby, up a flight of stairs, and through a long passage, to a large
saloon, where about 150 ladies and gentlemen were assembled,--some
sitting, some standing, some talking, some laughing, and some playing
with their fingers. But, no! we shrunk back. Thither we would not be
led, all wet and dirty as we were. We begged to be shown into a private
room. The waiter stared, and said he had none to take us to, except I
would first go to the "office." But what was to become of my
fellow-traveller in the meantime? No woman belonging to the
establishment made her appearance, and there my wife was obliged to
stand alone in the passage, whilst I followed the waiter through aisles
and passages, and turnings and twistings, and ups and downs, to a large
saloon, where about 200 gentlemen were smoking cigars! What a sight!
and what a smell! Who can realize the vast idea of 200 mouths, in one
room, pouring forth the fumes of tobacco? I was directed to the
high-priest of the establishment in the "office," or (as I should say)
at the "bar." Without verbally replying to my application, he handed me
a book in which to record my name. Having obeyed the hint, I again
asked my taciturn host if myself and wife could be accommodated. He
then, with manifest reluctance, took the cigar out of his mouth, and
said he had only one room to spare, and that was at the top of the
house. It was "Hobson's choice," and I accepted it. And now for a
journey! Talk of ascending the Monument on Fish-street Hill! what is
that compared to ascending the St. Charles's, at New Orleans? No. 181
was reached at last. The next task was to find my wife, which after
another long and circuitous journey was accomplished. In process of
time fire was made, and "tea for two" brought up. Let me, therefore,
close my letter and enjoy it.
LETTER III.
New Orleans--The Story of Pauline--Adieu to the St.
Charles's--Description of that Establishment--First Sight of Slaves for
Sale--Texts for Southern Divines--Perilous Picture.
From No. 181 of the "St. Charles's," we descended, after a good night's
rest, to see some of the lions of the place. Here we are (thought I) in
New Orleans--the metropolis of a great slave country,--a town in which
exist many depots for the disposal of human beings,--the very city
where, a few months ago, poor Pauline was sacrificed as the victim of
lust and cruelty! Unhappy girl! What a tragedy! On the 1st of August
last, I told the horrid tale to my emancipated people in Berbice. Here
it is, as extracted from the _Essex_ (United States) _Transcript_. Read
it, if you please; and then you will have a notion of the feelings with
which I contemplated a city rendered infamous by such a transaction.
"Many of our readers have probably seen a paragraph stating that a
young slave girl was recently hanged at New Orleans for the crime of
striking and abusing her mistress. The religious press of the north has
not, so far as we are aware, made any comments upon this execution. It
is too busy pulling the mote out of the eye of the heathen, to notice
the beam in our nominal Christianity at home. Yet this case, viewed in
all its aspects, is an atrocity which has (God be thanked) no parallel
in heathen lands. It is a hideous offshoot of American Republicanism
and American Christianity! It seems that Pauline--a young and beautiful
girl--attracted the admiration of her master, and being (to use the
words of the law) his "chattel personal to all intents and purposes
whatsoever," became the victim of his lust. So wretched is the
condition of the slave woman, that even the brutal and licentious
regard of her master is looked upon as the highest exaltation of which
her lot is susceptible. The slave girl in this instance evidently so
regarded it; and as a natural consequence, in her new condition,
triumphed over and insulted her mistress,--in other words, repaid in
some degree the scorn and abuse with which her mistress had made her
painfully familiar. The laws of the Christian State of Mississippi
inflict the punishment of death upon the slave who lifts his or her
hand against a white person. Pauline was accused of beating her
mistress,--tried, found guilty, and condemned to die! But it was
discovered on the trial that she was in a condition to become a mother,
and her execution was delayed until the birth of the child. She was
conveyed to the prison cell. There, for many weary months, uncheered by
the voice of kindness, alone, hopeless, desolate, she waited for the
advent of the new and quickening life within her, which was to be the
signal of her own miserable death. And the bells there called to mass
and prayer-meeting, and Methodists sang, and Baptists immersed, and
Presbyterians sprinkled, and young mothers smiled through tears upon
their new-born children,--and maidens and matrons of that great city
sat in their cool verandahs, and talked of love, and household joys,
and domestic happiness; while, all that dreary time, the poor slave
girl lay on the scanty straw of her dungeon, waiting--with what agony
the great and pitying God of the white and black only knows--for the
birth of the child of her adulterous master. Horrible! Was ever what
George Sand justly terms 'the great martyrdom of maternity'--that
fearful trial which love alone converts into joy unspeakable--endured
under such conditions? What was her substitute for the kind voices and
gentle soothings of affection? The harsh grating of her prison
lock,--the mockings and taunts of unfeeling and brutal keepers! What,
with the poor Pauline, took the place of the hopes and joyful
anticipations which support and solace the white mother, and make her
couch of torture happy with sweet dreams? The prospect of seeing the
child of her sorrow, of feeling its lips upon her bosom, of hearing its
feeble cry--alone, unvisited of its unnatural father; and then in a few
days--just when the mother's affections are strongest, and the first
smile of her infant compensates for the pangs of the past--the scaffold
and the hangman! Think of the last terrible scene,--the tearing of the
infant from her arms, the death-march to the gallows, the rope around
her delicate neck, and her long and dreadful struggles, (for,
attenuated and worn by physical suffering and mental sorrow, her slight
frame had not sufficient weight left to produce the dislocation of her
neck on the falling of the drop,) swinging there alive for nearly half
an hour--a spectacle for fiends in the shape of humanity! Mothers of
New England! such are the fruits of slavery. Oh! in the name of the
blessed God, teach your children to hate it, and to pity its victims.
Petty politicians and empty-headed Congress debators are vastly
concerned, lest the 'honour of the country' should be compromised in
the matter of the Oregon Boundary. Fools! One such horrible atrocity as
this murder of poor Pauline 'compromises' us too deeply to warrant any
further display of their patriotism. It would compromise Paradise
itself! An intelligent and philanthropic European gentleman, who was in
New Orleans at the time of the execution, in a letter to a friend in
this vicinity, after detailing the circumstances of the revolting
affair, exclaims, 'God of goodness! God of justice! There must be a
future state to redress the wrongs of this. I am almost tempted to
say--there must be a future state, or no God!'"
On Saturday, the 30th, we set off to seek private lodgings. Led by a
board having on it in large letters the words "Private Boarding," we
"inquired within," found what we wanted, and engaged for eight dollars
per week each. We then went to pay our bill at the "St. Charles's," and
to bring away our carpet-bag. We had been there two nights, had had one
dinner, two teas, and two breakfasts. These meals, as we did not like
to join the hundreds at the "ordinary," were served to us (in a very
_ordinary_ way however) in our bedroom. In fact, the waiting was
miserably done. And yet for this we had the pleasure of paying eleven
dollars,--say _L2. 6s._! We gladly bade adieu to the "St. Charles's."
It suited neither our taste nor our pocket. Nevertheless, it is a
magnificent concern. The edifice was finished in 1838 by a company, and
cost 600,000 dollars. The gentlemen's dining-room is 129 feet by 50,
and is 22 feet high; having four ranges of tables, capable of
accommodating 500 persons. The ladies' dining-room is 52 feet by 36.
The house contains 350 rooms, furnishing accommodation for between 600
and 700 guests; and it was quite full when we were there. The front is
adorned with a projecting portico, supported by six fine Corinthian
columns, resting upon a rustic basement. The edifice is crowned with a
large dome, forty-six feet in diameter, having a beautiful Corinthian
turret on the top. This dome is the most conspicuous object in the
city. Viewed from a distance, it seems to stand in the same relation to
New Orleans as St. Paul's to London. The furniture of this immense
establishment cost 150,000 dollars. A steam-engine, producing a very
disagreeable tremor, is constantly at work in the culinary department.
While on our way to get the remainder of our baggage from the ship, we
came upon a street in which a long row, or rather several rows, of
black and coloured people were exposed in the open air (and under a
smiling sun) for sale! There must have been from 70 to 100, all young
people, varying from 15 to 30 years of age. All (both men and women)
were well dressed, to set them off to the best advantage, as is always
the case at these sales. Several of the coloured girls--evidently the
daughters of white men--had their sewing-work with them, as evidence of
their skill in that department. The whole were arranged under a kind of
verandah, having a foot-bench (about six inches high) to stand upon,
and their backs resting against the wall. None were in any way tied or
chained; but two white men ("soul-drivers," I suppose) were sauntering
about in front of them, each with a cigar in his mouth, a whip under
his arm, and his hands in his pockets, looking out for purchasers. In
its external aspect, the exhibition was not altogether unlike what I
have sometimes seen in England, when some wandering Italian has ranged
against a wall his bronzed figures of distinguished men,--Shakspeare,
Napoleon, Wellington, Nelson, &c. It was between twelve and one in the
day; but there was no crowd, not even a single boy or girl looking
on,--so common and every-day was the character of the scene. As we
moved along in front of this sable row, one of the white attendants
(though my wife had hold of my arm) said to me, with all the
_nonchalance_ of a Smithfield cattle-drover, "Looking out for a few
niggers this morning?" Never did I feel my manhood so insulted. My
indignation burned for expression. But I endeavoured to affect
indifference, and answered in a don't-care sort of tone, "No, I am not
particularly in want of any to-da--." I could scarcely finish the
sentence. Emotion choked my utterance. I passed on, gazing at the troop
of degraded human beings, till my eyes became so filled with tears that
I was compelled to turn my face another way. Though I anticipated such
scenes, and had tried to prepare my mind for them, yet (now that they
were actually before me) I was completely overcome, and was obliged to
seek a place to sit down while I composed my feelings. With what
sentiments my companion beheld the scene, I will leave you to
conjecture!
It was Saturday morning; and with my professional habits, I naturally
thought of the many divines in that very city, who were at that moment
shut up in their studies, preparing their discourses for the morrow. I
wished I had them all before me. I could have given every one of them a
text to preach upon. I would have said, "Gentlemen, see there! and
blush for your fellow-citizens. See there! and never again talk of
American liberty. See there! and lift up your voices like so many
trumpets against this enormity. See there! and in the face of
persecution, poverty, imprisonment, and (if needs be) even death
itself, bear your faithful testimony, and cease not until this foul
stain be wiped away from your national escutcheon. Dr. S----, to-morrow
morning let this be your text,--'Where is Abel, thy brother?' Dr.
II----, let your discourse be founded on Exod. xxi. 16: 'And he that
stealeth a man, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he
shall surely be put to death.' You, the Rev. Mr. C----, let your gay
and wealthy congregation be edified with a solemn and impressive sermon
on Is. lviii. 6: 'Is not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the
bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the
oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?' And you, the Rev. Mr.
H----, let your hearers have a full and faithful exposition of that law
which is 'fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt love thy
neighbour as thyself.'"
In the afternoon of the same day, as I walked along one of the
principal streets, I saw a flag issue from a fine large public building
to invite "ladies and gentlemen" to see "the magnificent picture of the
departure of the Israelites from Egypt,"--the canvas containing 2,000
square feet, and 2,000,000 of figures! How significant! It would have
been still more so, if the number of "figures" had been 3,000,000
instead of 2,000,000. What an "abolition" picture! It must have been
worse than "Jacob and his Sons," which was expunged from a catalogue of
the American Sunday-School Union, because, in reprehending the sale of
Joseph to the merchants, it reflected upon the _internal_ slave-trade!
Surely such exhibitions will affect the safety of the "peculiar
institution!"
LETTER IV.
A Sabbath in New Orleans--The First Presbyterian Church--Expectoration
--A Negro Pew--The Sermon.
Think of a Sabbath in New Orleans! Curious to know how people did
really pray and preach, with slavery and slave-trading in their vilest
forms around them, I set off in search of the "First Presbyterian
Church." It is a beautiful building; seldom, if ever, had I seen a
place of worship the exterior of which I liked so much. Being a quarter
of an hour too soon, I had opportunity for some preliminary researches.
Wishing to see whether there was a "Negro Pew," I went into the
gallery, and took a seat on the left side of the organ. The "church" I
found as beautiful inside as out. Instead of a pulpit, there was a kind
of platform lined with crimson, which looked very nice. Most of the
pews below, and some above, were lined with the same material. A
splendid chandelier, having many circles of glass brilliants, was
suspended from the ceiling. Altogether, the "church" was a very neat
and graceful structure,--capable, as I learned, of accommodating about
1,500 people. But the floor--the floor! What a drawback! It was stained
all over with tobacco juice! Faugh! Those Southern men are the most
filthy people in that respect I ever met with. They are a great
"spitting" community. To make it still more revolting to luckless
travellers, this nasty habit is generally attended with noises in the
throat resembling the united growling of a dozen mastiffs.
While the congregation was assembling, a greyheaded,
aristocratic-looking old negro came up into the gallery, walked along
"as one having authority," and placed himself in a front pew on the
right-hand side of the pulpit. Two black women shortly followed, taking
their seats in the same region. Others succeeded, till ultimately there
were from forty to fifty of the sable race in that part of the gallery.
Not one white was to be seen among the blacks, nor one black among the
whites. There, then, was the "Negro Pew!" It was the first time even my
West India eyes ever beheld a distinction of colour maintained in the
house of God!