Clotel, William Wells Brown [i like reading books .txt] 📗

Smith took from his pocket the bill of sale and handed it to Johnson; at the same time saying, “I claim the right of redeeming that boy, Mr. Johnson. My father gave him to me when I came of age, and I promised not to part with him.”

“Most certainly, sir, the boy shall be yours, whenever you hand me over a cool thousand,” replied Johnson. The next morning, as the passengers were assembling in the breakfast saloons and upon the guards of the vessel, and the servants were seen running about waiting upon or looking for their masters, poor Jerry was entering his new master’s stateroom with his boots.

“Who do you belong to?” said a gentleman to an old black man, who came along leading a fine dog that he had been feeding.

“When I went to sleep last night, I belonged to Governor Lucas; but I understand dat he is bin gambling all night, so I don’t know who owns me dis morning.” Such is the uncertainty of a slave’s position. He goes to bed at night the property of the man with whom he has lived for years, and gets up in the morning the slave of someone whom he has never seen before! To behold five or six tables in a steamboat’s cabin, with half-a-dozen men playing at cards, and money, pistols, bowie-knives, etc. all in confusion on the tables, is what may be seen at almost any time on the Mississippi river.

On the fourth day, while at Natchez, taking in freight and passengers, Walker, who had been on shore to see some of his old customers, returned, accompanied by a tall, thin-faced man, dressed in black, with a white neckcloth, which immediately proclaimed him to be a clergyman. “I want a good, trusty woman for house service,” said the stranger, as they entered the cabin where Walker’s slaves were kept.

“Here she is, and no mistake,” replied the trader.

“Stand up, Currer, my gal; here’s a gentleman who wishes to see if you will suit him.” Althesa clung to her mother’s side, as the latter rose from her seat. “She is a rare cook, a good washer, and will suit you to a T, I am sure.”

“If you buy me, I hope you will buy my daughter too,” said the woman, in rather an excited manner.

“I only want one for my own use, and would not need another,” said the man in black, as he and the trader left the room. Walker and the parson went into the saloon, talked over the matter, the bill of sale was made out, the money paid over, and the clergyman left, with the understanding that the woman should be delivered to him at his house. It seemed as if poor Althesa would have wept herself to death, for the first two days after her mother had been torn from her side by the hand of the ruthless trafficker in human flesh. On the arrival of the boat at Baton Rouge, an additional number of passengers were taken on board; and, amongst them, several persons who had been attending the races. Gambling and drinking were now the order of the day. Just as the ladies and gentlemen were assembling at the supper-table, the report of a pistol was heard in the direction of the Social Hall, which caused great uneasiness to the ladies, and took the gentlemen to that part of the cabin. However, nothing serious had occurred. A man at one of the tables where they were gambling had been seen attempting to conceal a card in his sleeve, and one of the party seized his pistol and fired; but fortunately the barrel of the pistol was knocked up, just as it was about to be discharged, and the ball passed through the upper deck, instead of the man’s head, as intended. Order was soon restored; all went on well the remainder of the night, and the next day, at ten o’clock, the boat arrived at New Orleans, and the passengers went to the hotels and the slaves to the market!

Our eyes are yet on Afric’s shores,
Her thousand wrongs we still deplore;
We see the grim slave trader there;
We hear his fettered victim’s prayer;
And hasten to the sufferer’s aid,
Forgetful of our own “slave trade.”

The Ocean “Pirate’s” fiend-like form
Shall sink beneath the vengeance-storm;
His heart of steel shall quake before
The battle-din and havoc roar:
The knave shall die, the Law hath said,
While it protects our own “slave trade.”

What earthly eye presumes to scan
The wily Proteus-heart of man?⁠—
What potent hand will e’er unroll
The mantled treachery of his soul!⁠—
O where is he who hath surveyed
The horrors of our own “slave trade?”

There is an eye that wakes in light,
There is a hand of peerless might;
Which, soon or late, shall yet assail
And rend dissimulation’s veil:
Which will unfold the masquerade
Which justifies our own “slave trade.”

We shall now return to Natchez, where we left Currer in the hands of the Methodist parson. For many years, Natchez has enjoyed a notoriety for the inhumanity and barbarity of its inhabitants, and the cruel deeds perpetrated there, which have not been equalled in any other city in the Southern States. The following advertisements, which we take from a newspaper published in the vicinity, will show how they catch their negroes who believe in the doctrine that “all men are created free.”

Negro Dogs.⁠—The undersigned, having bought the entire pack of negro dogs (of the Hay and Allen stock), he now proposes to catch runaway negroes. His charges will be three dollars a day for hunting, and fifteen dollars for catching a runaway. He resides three and one half miles north of Livingston, near the lower Jones’ Bluff Road.

William Gambrel
Nov. 6, 1845.

Notice.⁠—The subscriber, living on Carroway Lake, on Hoe’s Bayou, in Carroll parish, sixteen miles on the road leading from Bayou Mason to Lake Providence, is ready with a pack of dogs to hunt runaway negroes at any time.