# The White Slave, or Memoirs of a Fugitive/Chapter 55

Contents
Having written a letter of inquiry to Mr Thomas, — since the disturbed state of the country had interrupted my personal visit, — while waiting an answer, passing in one of my walks through a principal street of New Orleans, I was attracted to enter a large warehouse where a sale of slaves was going on at auction. ​The auctioneer was engaged at the moment in the sale of, plantation hands, and mechanics. There stood on the block a blacksmith, a first-rate hand, — as the auctioneer described him, — who had paid his master, as rent for himself, twenty dollars a month, clear of all expenses, for the last five years; and upon whom the bid had already risen to fifteen hundred dollars. A report, indeed, circulated in the room, that he had already paid that sum, out of his extra earnings, to purchase his liberty; which amount his master, a Bostonian, settled in New Orleans, had coolly pocketed, and had then sent the man to be sold at auction. The circulation of this story checked the bidding, since this breach of faith, it was thought, might provoke the man to run away. The auctioneer steadily denied the truth of it; but being called upon to ask the man himself, he refused to do so, observing, with a laugh, that the evidence of a slave would not be received against his master.
My attention was presently attracted to a group of female slaves, apparently of a superior class, and most of them very light colored. One woman, in particular, soon fixed and absorbed all my attention. Those eyes! That mouth! Her figure was more plump, and fuller; the face was older than I remembered it; but her raven hair, and pearl-like teeth perfectly preserved, still gave her a youthful aspect. Her height was the same, and there was the same grace in every gesture and movement. I watched her with the intensest interest. Was it possible that I could be mistaken? No; 'twas she, — 'twas Cassy, — 'twas the long lost wife I sought; found at last; but where?
Press, reader, to thy heart the wife of thy bosom, and thank God that you were both born free! After twenty years' separation, I had again found mine, — ripe in womanly beauty, — exposed for sale in a slave auction room! Yet even there, reduced to that depth of degradation and misery, she was still calm and self-collected; evidently, by her manner, imposing a certain ​restraint on the crowd of licentious idlers, callous speculators, and anxious inquirers after human conveniences, to whose inspection, and now gross, now rude, and now teasing inquisition she, in common with the rest, was subjected.
The present, however, was not a moment to give way to feeling. It was necessary to act. Summoning up all my energies, I rapidly considered with myself what course I best might adopt. To draw Cassy's attention to myself in any way would be a hazardous operation; for I felt certain that as I had recognized her, so she would not fail to recognize me; and so public and peculiar a place as a slave auction room was hardly a desirable spot for our first interview, which, coming upon her with even greater surprise than upon myself, might have led to a scene very embarrassing, if not hazardous.
Looking round the room, as these thoughts ran through my mind, whom should I see — as if fortune or providence had determined to favor me — but my late acquaintance, Mr John. Colter, who was walking about the room examining the various groups of slaves, especially the females, with the air — to use his own expression — of both connoisseur and amateur, and with pretty evident indications of his own opinion as to his special competency to pass judgment as to the value of the article.
Catching my eye almost at the same instant that mine rested on him, he approached me with an air of much interest, and inquired what I did there, and what had been the success of my Mississippi travels? "I feared," he added, in a low tone, "when I read the account of that hanging affair in the newspapers, that I had got you into a scrape. I am glad to find you know how to take care of yourself. Here in the south-west it is pretty necessary to have one's eye teeth cut, and one's eyes open."
"You are just the man," I answered, "whom I wanted to see. Your assistance may now be invaluable tome. I have found her! She's here!" ​"Here! The deuce she is! Where? Offered for sale? Have you bought her?"
I pointed out Cassy, as she stood with the other women, with downcast eyes, and apparently absorbed in thought. Colter prided himself on the strength of his memory; never forgetting, as he said, a face which he had once seen; but what could his memory be, in this case, compared to mine? After two or three glances at her, he admitted that likely enough I might be correct; but, to make all sure, while I walked in another direction, he approached her, called her by name, reminded her of Augusta and the slave prison there, and fully satisfied himself, in a short conversation, that she was in fact the same person about whose sale he had quarrelled with Gouge; and that person, from circumstances already mentioned, I was satisfied was my Cassy.
Upon his inquiring of her why she was here, and if she was now to be sold? — she answered, that she was brought here for that purpose; but that they had no right to sell her, for she was free. Her former owner, a Mr Curtis, had given her free papers many years ago; but he was lately dead, and certain persons, claiming to be his heirs, were now attempting to sell her.
Colter promised to inquire into the case, and to befriend her in the matter; for which she expressed great gratitude, adding that she had all along felt confident that Heaven would send her aid in some shape.
He then hastened to report to me; and while he and I were still discussing the subject, and considering what was best to be done, the auctioneer, having finished the sale of the plantation slaves, began upon the group of females in which wit stood.
The one first placed upon the auction block was a finely-formed black girl, neatly dressed, her good-humored face well set off by a bright-colored handkerchief twisted turban-fashion about her head. Though ​apparently very young, she held in her arms, and caressed with much fondness, a sprightly infant of seven or eight months, quite richly dressed, and of a color a good deal lighter than the mother's.
"Jemima, shouted the auctioneer; "first-rate chambermaid; hold up your head, my dear, and let the gentlemen see you; brought up in one of the first families of Virginia; a good seamstress, too," — reading from a paper or list containing the names and descriptions of the articles on sale, — "only fifteen years of age, warranted sound and healthy in every particular!"
"And do you sell the pappoose too, mother and child in one lot?" asked a thin, squint-eyed, hard-featured fellow.
"You know the law don't allow us," said the auctioneer, with a wink, "to offer the mother and child separately. Whoever buys the girl has the privilege to take the child if he chooses, at the usual rate, — a dollar a pound for sucklings; that's the regular price every where; that you know, old fellow, as well as I. You've bought 'em before now, I reckon."
This drew out a laugh at the expense of the questioner, who, however, did not seem to notice it; and the auctioneer having nodded assent to his inquiry, whether, if not so taken, the child might be had separately, the sale went on.
"Only three hundred dollars offered," cried the auctioneer; "only three hundred dollars for this first-rate chambermaid and seamstress, raised in one of the first families of Virginia, sold for no fault, only to raise the wind."
"Pretty common case with those first Virginia families," said a voice from among the crowd; "they only live by eating their niggers ——"
"Warranted," — so the auctioneer went on, without noticing the interruption, which raised another laugh among some of the company, — "warranted healthy, sound, and honest."
"But no virgin," responded the voice from the ​crowd — a sally which provoked another and still more violent explosion of laughter.
"With privilege to take the child at a dollar a pound," continued the auctioneer. "Three hundred and fifty! Four hundred! Thank you, sir, with a bow and a bland smile to the bidder. "Four hundred and fifty? Did I hear it? Four hundred and fifty! Five hundred! Can't pause, gentlemen; great heap of 'em here to sell to-day. All done at five hundred? Five hundred! Going! Five hundred dollars for a prime Virginia wench, who begins young, and promises to be a great breeder; only five hundred dollars! Why, upon my honor, gentlemen," pausing, and laying his hammer across his breast, "upon my honor," — this with a very decided emphasis, — "she's worth seven hundred and fifty for any body's use; a handsome, young, good-natured, stout, and healthy chambermaid and seamstress, raised in one of the first families of Virginia, and sold for only five hundred dollars! We shall be obliged to stop the sale, gentlemen, if you don't bid better. All done-at five hundred dollars? Going at five hundred dollars! Gone." And the hammer fell. "Gone for five hundred dollars, and mighty cheap at that, to Mr Charles Parker." Here a fat, jolly-looking, youngish gentleman stepped forward, and the black girl, looking intently at him, and as if pleased with his appearance, smiled confidingly on her new purchaser. "Mr Parker of course takes the child," the auctioneer continued, addressing his clerk; "add thirty-five dollars for the child, at a dollar a pound."
"Not at all!" — so the purchaser interposed; and as he spoke, how suddenly and sadly the girl's countenance fell! — "I've bought her for a wet nurse; I don't want the brat — wouldn't take it as a gift."
I could see, as he spoke, how the mother's arms closed on the child, as if with a convulsive grasp. I expected a scene, but the same little squint-eyed, hard-featured fellow, whom I had noticed before, stepped up to the purchaser, saying in a whisper, ​"Take it — take it! I'll take it off your hands, and give a dollar to boot."
As the purchaser cast a doubting sort of a look at him, some one in the crowd remarked, "O, that's old Stubbings, the nigger baby broker; he makes a business of buying nigger babies; he's good!" And so accepting the offer, Mr Parker took possession of his new purchase, the young mother's smiles returning, with a profusion of thanks and "God bless ye's," when she found she was to take the child with her; wholly unaware, as she seemed to be, of the understanding by which the infant was to become the property of Stubbings, the speculator in that line, who promised Parker, in a few whispered words, to arrange matters so as to take the brat off quietly the next day, without giving the girl a chance to make a fuss.
"And now, gentlemen," said the auctioneer, well-satisfied, apparently, that the affair just disposed of had ended so quietly, "I have now to offer you a most rare chance for a housekeeper." Here he read from the list, "Cassy; understands housekeeping in all its branches; perfectly trustworthy, and warranted a member of the Methodist church! I can't exactly say, gentlemen, that she's young, but she's in excellent preservation for all that. Answers to the English description of 'fair — ' You needn't laugh; she's next door to white — she answers, I say, to the English description of 'fair, fat, and forty" Step up, Cassy, girl, and show yourself!"
O my God! What did I not suffer at that moment! Yet it was necessary to be quiet.
Cassy had been separated from the group where Thad first seen her, and brought forward by some of the assistants of the auction room, towards the place of sale. But instead of mounting the block as directed, she stood still beside it; and as all eyes were drawn towards her, she spoke out, in a gentle, but very firm and steady tone — how that voice, as familiar to my ear as if I had heard it every day for the last twenty years, instead of hearing it now for ​the first time after a twenty years' interval, how it went through my heart! — "No!" she said, "I'am free. By what right do you pretend to sell me?"
This exclamation, as may well be supposed, produced quite an excitement in the auction room. As I glanced my eye rapidly over the company, it was easy to discover several who seemed to sympathize with this claim of freedom, and the auctioneer was loudly called upon for explanations.
"A very common case, gentlemen," replied the auctioneer, "very common. 'The woman, no doubt, thought herself free; no doubt she has lived as free for several years past; but that was all by the mere indulgence of her late owner. He's 'dead, and now the heirs have taken possession, and offer her for sale. That's all. Step up, Cassy, step on the block; you see there is no help for it. Gentlemen, who bids?"
"Stop a moment!" said Mr Colter, who now quitted my side and stepped forward — "not quite so fast, sir, if you please. I appear here as this woman's friend. She is a free woman. Gentlemen will please to take warning: any body who buys her buys a lawsuit."
The peremptory manner in which this was spoken seemed to throw cold water upon the sale. Nobody made an offer, and the auctioneer, to shield himself from the charge of attempting to sell a free woman, found it necessary to go into further explanations.
This woman, he stated, had formerly belonged to Mr James Curtis, a very worthy citizen, lately deceased, and well known to many of the company. He had allowed her, for several years past, to live as a free woman, and no doubt the gentleman — it was Colter he alluded to — might have every reason for supposing her to be so; but the fact was, she had no free papers, or, if she had any, they were not in due and proper form; and Mr James Curtis having died suddenly without a will, his brother, Mr Agrippa Curtis, of the well-known Boston firm of Curtis, Sawin, Byrne, and Co., had succeeded to all his ​propery; and finding his ownership of this woman unquestionable, had directed her to be sold; "and here comes the owner himself," said the auctioneer, "and his Boston lawyer with him; no doubt they can satisfy you as to the title."
As he spoke I observed two individuals entering the room, one a very small man, with a head about as large as that of a respectable tabby cat, and with little wandering, unquiet eyes, and a compressed, pursed-up mouth, that might call to mind the said tabby, caught in the act of stealing cream, but while seeming to anticipate a box on the ear for her villany, still licking her chops all the while, as though the cream was all tht sweeter for having been stolen. This I afterwards understood was Thomas Littlebody, Esq., of Boston, counsellor at law and legal adviser of Mr Agrippa Curtis, or Grip Curtis, as he was more commonly called among his familiars, — the principal in this business, a bald-headed man about forty, the impenetrable and immovable stolidity of whose features made it difficult to form any conjecture, from that source, as to his character, beyond the probability of his not being likely to be carried away by any great excess of sensibility.
"A very pretty story," said Colter, stepping up to these two worthies as they entered the room and approached the auctioneer, and eyeing them with a look that seemed to make them rather uncomfortable. "The company see how it is. I am glad to find no Louisianian is concerned in this pitiful, kidnapping business. The woman is as free as you or I. This story about the flaw in the papers is all a humbug; nothing in the world but one of your scurvy, low-lived, Yankee tricks, to put a few hundred dollars into the pocket of a scoundrel. Yet, to save trouble, I'm willing to buy off this pretence of claim for a hundred dollars. Come, Mr. Auctioneer, go ahead with your sale. One hundred dollars — that's my bid."
"One hundred dollars!" repeated the auctioneer, ​as if mechanically, — "gentlemen, I'm offered one hundred dollars."
"I offer this," said Colter, looking proudly round on the company, "to buy off these Yankee bloodsuckers, and to secure the freedom of a free woman. We shall see," he added, "whether, under these circumstances, any southern gentleman will bid against me, or — brushing by Mr Curtis and his lawyer, and darting at them a malign scowl, such as I hardly thought possible from so handsome a face — "any swindling Yankee either."
Thomas Littlebody, Esq., the Boston lawyer, started back some three or four paces, as if this must have certainly been meant for him, Mr Grip Curtis, with that gravity and immobility which seemed to be a part of his nature, stood his ground better; and, opening his great owl-like eyes, observed, with a drawl, "I hope you don't intend to insinuate any thing against my moral character!"
"I shall though," rejoined Colter, "if you undertake to bid at your own auction. It's quite enough to palm off a free woman upon this respectable company, without turning buy-bidder at the sale!"
"One hundred dollars is offered, gentlemen, — one hundred dollars!" repeated the auctioneer; — but there was no further bid.
The little squint-eyed baby broker, who had watched the whole proceeding with keen interest, as if here might be a chance for him to turn an honest penny, once opened his mouth as if going to bid; but, at a look from Colter, he shut it as suddenly up as if his tongue had been pricked with a bowie knife; and I think Colter showed him the handle of one from under his vest. At all events, the apparently intended bid died away inaudible.
"As gentlemen don't seem inclined to purchase," said Mr Grip Curtis, stepping forward to the auctioneer's side, "I withdraw this woman from the sale."
These words filled me with lively alarm; but Colter's practice, I found, had made him a match for any ​Yankee of the lot. He coolly produced the advertisement, closing with these words, "To be sold without reserve," and insisted that the sale should go on. In this, the company and the auctioneer sustained him; and, as no other bids were made, presently the auctioneer's hammer fell. "Sold," he said, "for one hundred dollars, to Mr———?"
"Cash," answered Colter, handing out one of the very hundred dollar bills which he had won, a few weeks before, from the Boston cotton broker. "Make out a receipted bill of this Boston man's claim to this woman, as sold to Mr Archer Moore, of London."
The bill was speedily made out, and, in spite of a certain degree of dissatisfaction visible meanwhile even through the solemn stolidity of the foiled Bostonian, Colter motioning to Cassy to come with us, to which she responded with all alacrity, and we three left the sales room together; but not before the laughing and good-natured auctioneer had another woman on the auction block, a lady's maid of sixteen, raised in a good Maryland family, warranted intact, and title unquestionable, upon whom he solicited a generous bid.
I shall not undertake to describe the scene between myself and Cassy, when she came to recognize in me, as she speedily did, her long lost husband. Her joy at the meeting was no less exalted than mine; but her surprise was greatly diminished by a confident expectation which, it seemed, she had all along entertained, and which had formed with her a settled article of belief, — the hope of sanguine souls easily transforming itself into faith, — that sooner or later she should certainly again find me. And so, like a true wife and lover, she had kept, in all this long absence, the best place in her heart empty, swept, and garnished, and waiting to receive me; and now she clasped me to it, rather as him whose return from a long wandering she had day by day and night by night patiently expected and waited for, than as one irretrievably lost, and unexpectedly, however welcomely, found. ​O, tie of love, and natural bond of marriage, union of hearts, which laws and _ priestly benedictions may sanction if they choose, but cannot make; so neither can time, nor separation, nor prosperity, nor suffering, nor all that unbridled power may inflict, or helplessness submit to, nor aught save death, nor death itself, undo thee!