<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</SPAN></h2>
<p><i>Our arrival and examination at Vicksburg.—An account of slave
sales.—Cruel punishment with the paddle.—Attempts to sell myself by
Garrison's direction.—Amusing interview with a slave buyer.—Deacon
Whitfield's examination.—He purchases the family.—Character of the
Deacon.</i></p>
<p class="cap">WHEN we arrived at the city of Vicksburg, he intended to sell a
portion of his slaves there, and stopped for three weeks trying to
sell. But he met with very poor success.</p>
<p>We had there to pass through an examination or inspection by a city
officer, whose business it was to inspect slave property that was
brought to that market for sale. He examined our backs to see if we
had been much scarred by the lash. He examined our limbs, to see
whether we were inferior.</p>
<p>As it is hard to tell the ages of slaves, they look in their mouths at
their teeth, and prick up the skin on the back of their hands, and if
the person is very far advanced in life, when the skin is pricked up,
the pucker will stand so many seconds on the back of the hand.</p>
<p>But the most rigorous examinations of slaves by those slave
inspectors, is on the mental capacity. If they are found to be very
intelligent, this is pronounced the most objectionable of all other
qualities connected with the life of a slave. In fact, it undermines
the whole fabric of his chattelhood; it prepares for what slaveholders
are pleased to pronounce the unpardonable sin when committed by a
slave. It lays the foundation for running away, and going to Canada.
They also see in it a love for freedom, patriotism, insurrection,
bloodshed, and exterminating war against American slavery.</p>
<p>Hence they are very careful to inquire whether a slave who is for sale
can read or write. This question has been asked me often by slave
traders, and cotton planters, while I was there for market. After
conversing with me, they have sworn by their Maker, that they would
not have me among their negroes; and that they saw the devil in my
eye; I would run away, &c.</p>
<p>I have frequently been asked also, if I had ever run away;
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page71" id="page71"></SPAN></span>
but
Garrison would generally answer this question for me in the negative.
He could have sold my little family without any trouble, for the sum
of one thousand dollars. But for fear he might not get me off at so
great an advantage, as the people did not like my appearance, he could
do better by selling us all together. They all wanted my wife, while
but very few wanted me. He asked for me and my family twenty-five
hundred dollars, but was not able to get us off at that price.</p>
<p>He tried to speculate on my Christian character. He tried to make it
appear that I was so pious and honest that I would not runaway for ill
treatment; which was a gross mistake, for I never had religion enough
to keep me from running away from slavery in my life.</p>
<p>But we were taken from Vicksburgh, to the city of New Orleans, were we
were to be sold at any rate. We were taken to a trader's yard or a
slave prison on the corner of St. Joseph street. This was a common
resort for slave traders, and planters who wanted to buy slaves; and
all classes of slaves were kept there for sale, to be sold in private
or public—young or old, males or females, children or parents,
husbands or wives.</p>
<p>Every day at 10 o'clock they were exposed for sale. They had to be in
trim for showing themselves to the public for sale. Every one's head
had to be combed, and their faces washed, and those who were inclined
to look dark and rough, were compelled to wash in greasy dish water,
in order to make them look slick and lively.</p>
<p>When spectators would come in the yard, the slaves were ordered out to
form a line. They were made to stand up straight, and look as
sprightly as they could; and when they were asked a question, they had
to answer it as promptly as they could, and try to induce the
spectators to buy them. If they failed to do this, they were severely
paddled after the spectators were gone. The object for using the
paddle in the place of a lash was, to conceal the marks which would be
made by the flogging. And the object for flogging under such
circumstances, is to make the slaves anxious to be sold.</p>
<p>The paddle is made of a piece of hickory timber, about one inch thick,
three inches in width, and about eighteen inches in length. The part
which is applied to the flesh is bored full
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page72" id="page72"></SPAN></span>
of quarter inch auger
holes; and every time this is applied to the flesh of the victim, the
blood gushes through the holes of the paddle, or a blister makes its
appearance. The persons who are thus flogged, are always stripped
naked, and their hands tied together. They are then bent over double,
their knees are forced between their elbows, and a stick is put
through between the elbows and the bend of the legs, in order to hold
the victim in that position, while the paddle is applied to those
parts of the body which would not be so likely to be seen by those who
wanted to buy slaves.</p>
<p>I was kept in this prison for several months, and no one would buy me
for fear I would run away. One day while I was in this prison,
Garrison got mad with my wife, and took her off in one of the rooms,
with his paddle in hand, swearing that he would paddle her; and I
could afford her no protection at all, while the strong arm of the
law, public opinion and custom, were all against me. I have often
heard Garrison say, that he had rather paddle a female, than eat when
he was hungry—that it was music for him to hear them scream, and to
see their blood run.</p>
<p>After the lapse of several months, he found that he could not dispose
of my person to a good advantage, while he kept me in that prison
confined among the other slaves. I do not speak with vanity when I say
the contrast was so great between myself and ordinary slaves, from the
fact that I had enjoyed superior advantages, to which I have already
referred. They have their slaves classed off and numbered.</p>
<p>Garrison came to me one day and informed me that I might go out
through the city and find myself a master. I was to go to the Hotels,
boarding houses, &c.—tell them that my wife was a good cook,
wash-woman, &c,—and that I was a good dining room servant, carriage
driver, or porter—and in this way I might find some gentleman who
would buy us both; and that this was the only hope of our being sold
together.</p>
<p>But before starting me out, he dressed me up in a suit of his old
clothes, so as to make me look respectable, and I was so much better
dressed than usual that I felt quite gay. He would not allow my wife
to go out with me however, for fear we might get away. I was out every
day for several weeks,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page73" id="page73"></SPAN></span>
three or four hours in each day, trying to
find a new master, but without success.</p>
<p>Many of the old French inhabitants have taken slaves for their wives,
in this city, and their own children for their servants. Such commonly
are called Creoles. They are better treated than other slaves, and I
resembled this class in appearance so much that the French did not
want me. Many of them set their mulatto children free, and make
slaveholders of them.</p>
<p>At length one day I heard that there was a gentleman in the city from
the State of Tennessee, to buy slaves. He had brought down two rafts
of lumber for market, and I thought if I could get him to buy me with
my family, and take us to Tennessee, from there, I would stand a
better opportunity to run away again and get to Canada, than I would
from the extreme South.</p>
<p>So I brushed up myself and walked down to the river's bank, where the
man was pointed out to me standing on board of his raft, I approached
him, and after passing the usual compliments I said:</p>
<p>"Sir, I understand that you wish to purchase a lot of servants and I
have called to know if it is so."</p>
<p>He smiled and appeared to be much pleased at my visit on such laudable
business, supposing me to be a slave trader. He commenced rubbing his
hands together, and replied by saying: "Yes sir, I am glad to see you.
It is a part of my business here to buy slaves, and if I could get you
to take my lumber in part pay I should like to buy four or five of
your slaves at any rate. What kind of slaves have you, sir?"</p>
<p>After I found that he took me to be a slave trader I knew that it
would be of no use for me to tell him that I was myself a slave
looking for a master, for he would have doubtless brought up the same
objection that others had brought up,—that I was too white; and that
they were afraid that I could read and write; and would never serve as
a slave, but run away. My reply to the question respecting the quality
of my slaves was, that I did not think his lumber would suit me—that
I must have the cash for my negroes, and turned on my heel and left
him!</p>
<p>I returned to the prison and informed my wife of the fact
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page74" id="page74"></SPAN></span>
that I had
been taken to be a slaveholder. She thought that in addition to my
light complexion my being dressed up in Garrison's old slave trading
clothes might have caused the man to think that I was a slave trader,
and she was afraid that we should yet be separated if I should not
succeed in finding some body to buy us.</p>
<p>Every day to us was a day of trouble, and every night brought new and
fearful apprehensions that the golden link which binds together
husband and wife might be broken by the heartless tyrant before the
light of another day.</p>
<p>Deep has been the anguish of my soul when looking over my little
family during the silent hours of the night, knowing the great danger
of our being sold off at auction the next day and parted forever. That
this might not come to pass, many have been the tears and prayers
which I have offered up to the God of Israel that we might be
preserved.</p>
<p>While waiting here to be disposed of, I heard of one Francis
Whitfield, a cotton planter, who wanted to buy slaves. He was
represented to be a very pious soul, being a deacon of a Baptist
church. As the regulations, as well as public opinion generally, were
against slaves meeting for religious worship, I thought it would give
me a better opportunity to attend to my religious duties should I fall
into the hands of this deacon.</p>
<p>So I called on him and tried to show to the best advantage, for the
purpose of inducing him to buy me and my family. When I approached
him, I felt much pleased at his external appearance—I addressed him
in the following words as well as I can remember:</p>
<p>"Sir, I understand you are desirous of purchasing slaves?"</p>
<p>With a very pleasant smile, he replied, "Yes, I do want to buy some,
are you for sale?"</p>
<p>"Yes sir, with my wife and one child."</p>
<p>Garrison had given me a note to show wherever I went, that I was for
sale, speaking of my wife and child, giving us a very good character
of course—and I handed him the note.</p>
<p>After reading it over he remarked, "I have a few questions to ask you,
and if you will tell me the truth like a good boy, perhaps I may buy
you with your family. In the first place, my boy, you are a little too
near white. I want you to tell me now whether you can read or write?"
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page75" id="page75"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>My reply was in the negative.</p>
<p>"Now I want you to tell me whether you have run away? Don't tell me no
stories now, like a good fellow, and perhaps I may buy you."</p>
<p>But as I was not under oath to tell him the whole truth, I only gave
him a part of it, by telling him that I had run away once.</p>
<p>He appeared to be pleased at that, but cautioned me to tell him the
truth, and asked me how long I stayed away, when I run off?</p>
<p>I told him that I was gone a month.</p>
<p>He assented to this by a bow of his head, and making a long grunt
saying, "That's right, tell me the truth like a good boy."</p>
<p>The whole truth was that I had been off in the state of Ohio, and
other free states, and even to Canada; besides this I was notorious
for running away, from my boyhood.</p>
<p>I never told him that I had been a runaway longer than one
month—neither did I tell him that I had not run away more than once
in my life; for these questions he never asked me.</p>
<p>I afterwards found him to be one of the basest hypocrites that I ever
saw. He looked like a saint—talked like the best of slave holding
Christians, and acted at home like the devil.</p>
<p>When he saw my wife and child, he concluded to buy us. He paid for me
twelve hundred dollars, and one thousand for my wife and child. He
also bought several other slaves at the same time, and took home with
him. His residence was in the parish of Claiborn, fifty miles up from
the mouth of Red River.</p>
<p>When we arrived there, we found his slaves poor, ragged, stupid, and
half-starved. The food he allowed them per week, was one peck of corn
for each grown person, one pound of pork, and sometimes a quart of
molasses. This was all that they were allowed, and if they got more
they stole it.</p>
<p>He had one of the most cruel overseers to be found in that section of
country. He weighed and measured out to them, their week's allowance
of food every Sabbath morning. The overseer's horn was sounded two
hours before daylight for them in the morning, in order that they
should be ready for work before daylight. They were worked from
daylight until
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page76" id="page76"></SPAN></span>
after dark, without stopping but one half hour to eat
or rest, which was at noon. And at the busy season of the year, they
were compelled to work just as hard on the Sabbath, as on any other
day.</p>
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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page77" id="page77"></SPAN></span>
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