A slave warehouse! Perhaps some of my readers conjure up horriblevisions of such a place. They fancy some foul, obscure den, somehorrible _Tartarus "informis, ingens, cui lumen ademptum."_ But no,innocent friend; in these days men have learned the art of sinningexpertly and genteelly, so as not to shock the eyes and senses ofrespectable society. Human property is high in the market; and is,therefore, well fed, well cleaned, tended, and looked after, that it maycome to sale sleek, and strong, and shining. A slave-warehouse in NewOrleans is a house externally not much unlike many others, kept withneatness; and where every day you may see arranged, under a sort of shedalong the outside, rows of men and women, who stand there as a sign ofthe property sold within.

Then you shall be courteously entreated to call and examine, and shallfind an abundance of husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, fathers,mothers, and young children, to be "sold separately, or in lots to suitthe convenience of the purchaser;" and that soul immortal, once boughtwith blood and anguish by the Son of God, when the earth shook, and therocks rent, and the graves were opened, can be sold, leased, mortgaged,exchanged for groceries or dry goods, to suit the phases of trade, orthe fancy of the purchaser.

It was a day or two after the conversation between Marie and MissOphelia, that Tom, Adolph, and about half a dozen others of the St.Clare estate, were turned over to the loving kindness of Mr. Skeggs, thekeeper of a depot on ---- street, to await the auction, next day.

Tom had with him quite a sizable trunk full of clothing, as had mostothers of them. They were ushered, for the night, into a long room,where many other men, of all ages, sizes, and shades of complexion, wereassembled, and from which roars of laughter and unthinking merrimentwere proceeding.

"Ah, ha! that's right. Go it, boys,--go it!" said Mr. Skeggs, thekeeper. "My people are always so merry! Sambo, I see!" he said,speaking approvingly to a burly negro who was performing tricks of lowbuffoonery, which occasioned the shouts which Tom had heard.

As might be imagined, Tom was in no humor to join these proceedings;and, therefore, setting his trunk as far as possible from the noisygroup, he sat down on it, and leaned his face against the wall.

The dealers in the human article make scrupulous and systematic effortsto promote noisy mirth among them, as a means of drowning reflection,and rendering them insensible to their condition. The whole object ofthe training to which the negro is put, from the time he is sold inthe northern market till he arrives south, is systematically directedtowards making him callous, unthinking, and brutal. The slave-dealercollects his gang in Virginia or Kentucky, and drives them to someconvenient, healthy place,--often a watering place,--to be fattened.Here they are fed full daily; and, because some incline to pine, afiddle is kept commonly going among them, and they are made to dancedaily; and he who refuses to be merry--in whose soul thoughts of wife,or child, or home, are too strong for him to be gay--is marked as sullenand dangerous, and subjected to all the evils which the ill will of anutterly irresponsible and hardened man can inflict upon him. Briskness,alertness, and cheerfulness of appearance, especially before observers,are constantly enforced upon them, both by the hope of thereby getting agood master, and the fear of all that the driver may bring upon them ifthey prove unsalable.

"What dat ar nigger doin here?" said Sambo, coming up to Tom, after Mr.Skeggs had left the room. Sambo was a full black, of great size, verylively, voluble, and full of trick and grimace.

"What you doin here?" said Sambo, coming up to Tom, and poking himfacetiously in the side. "Meditatin', eh?"

"I am to be sold at the auction tomorrow!" said Tom, quietly.

"Sold at auction,--haw! haw! boys, an't this yer fun? I wish't I wasgwine that ar way!--tell ye, wouldn't I make em laugh? But how isit,--dis yer whole lot gwine tomorrow?" said Sambo, laying his handfreely on Adolph's shoulder.

"Please to let me alone!" said Adolph, fiercely, straightening himselfup, with extreme disgust.

"Law, now, boys! dis yer's one o' yer white niggers,--kind o' creamcolor, ye know, scented!" said he, coming up to Adolph and snuffing. "OLor! he'd do for a tobaccer-shop; they could keep him to scent snuff!Lor, he'd keep a whole shope agwine,--he would!"

"I say, keep off, can't you?" said Adolph, enraged.

"Lor, now, how touchy we is,--we white niggers! Look at us now!" andSambo gave a ludicrous imitation of Adolph's manner; "here's de airs andgraces. We's been in a good family, I specs."

"Yes," said Adolph; "I had a master that could have bought you all forold truck!"

"Laws, now, only think," said Sambo, "the gentlemens that we is!"

"I belonged to the St. Clare family," said Adolph, proudly.

"Lor, you did! Be hanged if they ar'n't lucky to get shet of ye. Spectsthey's gwine to trade ye off with a lot o' cracked tea-pots and sichlike!" said Sambo, with a provoking grin.

Adolph, enraged at this taunt, flew furiously at his adversary, swearingand striking on every side of him. The rest laughed and shouted, and theuproar brought the keeper to the door.

"What now, boys? Order,--order!" he said, coming in and flourishing alarge whip.

All fled in different directions, except Sambo, who, presuming on thefavor which the keeper had to him as a licensed wag, stood his ground,ducking his head with a facetious grin, whenever the master made a diveat him.

"Lor, Mas'r, 'tan't us,--we 's reglar stiddy,--it's these yer new hands;they 's real aggravatin',--kinder pickin' at us, all time!"

The keeper, at this, turned upon Tom and Adolph, and distributing a fewkicks and cuffs without much inquiry, and leaving general orders for allto be good boys and go to sleep, left the apartment.

While this scene was going on in the men's sleeping-room, the reader maybe curious to take a peep at the corresponding apartment allotted tothe women. Stretched out in various attitudes over the floor, he may seenumberless sleeping forms of every shade of complexion, from the purestebony to white, and of all years, from childhood to old age, lying nowasleep. Here is a fine bright girl, of ten years, whose mother was soldout yesterday, and who tonight cried herself to sleep when nobody waslooking at her. Here, a worn old negress, whose thin arms and callousfingers tell of hard toil, waiting to be sold tomorrow, as a cast-offarticle, for what can be got for her; and some forty or fifty others,with heads variously enveloped in blankets or articles of clothing, liestretched around them. But, in a corner, sitting apart from the rest,are two females of a more interesting appearance than common. One ofthese is a respectably-dressed mulatto woman between forty and fifty,with soft eyes and a gentle and pleasing physiognomy. She has on herhead a high-raised turban, made of a gay red Madras handkerchief, of thefirst quality, her dress is neatly fitted, and of good material, showingthat she has been provided for with a careful hand. By her side, andnestling closely to her, is a young girl of fifteen,--her daughter. Sheis a quadroon, as may be seen from her fairer complexion, though herlikeness to her mother is quite discernible. She has the same soft, darkeye, with longer lashes, and her curling hair is of a luxuriant brown.She also is dressed with great neatness, and her white, delicate handsbetray very little acquaintance with servile toil. These two are tobe sold tomorrow, in the same lot with the St. Clare servants; and thegentleman to whom they belong, and to whom the money for their sale isto be transmitted, is a member of a Christian church in New York, whowill receive the money, and go thereafter to the sacrament of his Lordand theirs, and think no more of it.

These two, whom we shall call Susan and Emmeline, had been the personalattendants of an amiable and pious lady of New Orleans, by whom they hadbeen carefully and piously instructed and trained. They had been taughtto read and write, diligently instructed in the truths of religion, andtheir lot had been as happy an one as in their condition it was possibleto be. But the only son of their protectress had the management of herproperty; and, by carelessness and extravagance involved it to alarge amount, and at last failed. One of the largest creditors wasthe respectable firm of B. & Co., in New York. B. & Co. wrote to theirlawyer in New Orleans, who attached the real estate (these two articlesand a lot of plantation hands formed the most valuable part of it), andwrote word to that effect to New York. Brother B., being, as we havesaid, a Christian man, and a resident in a free State, felt someuneasiness on the subject. He didn't like trading in slaves and soulsof men,--of course, he didn't; but, then, there were thirty thousanddollars in the case, and that was rather too much money to be lost for aprinciple; and so, after much considering, and asking advice from thosethat he knew would advise to suit him, Brother B. wrote to his lawyer todispose of the business in the way that seemed to him the most suitable,and remit the proceeds.

The day after the letter arrived in New Orleans, Susan and Emmelinewere attached, and sent to the depot to await a general auction on thefollowing morning; and as they glimmer faintly upon us in the moonlightwhich steals through the grated window, we may listen to theirconversation. Both are weeping, but each quietly, that the other may nothear.

"Mother, just lay your head on my lap, and see if you can't sleep alittle," says the girl, trying to appear calm.

"I haven't any heart to sleep, Em; I can't; it's the last night we maybe together!"

"O, mother, don't say so! perhaps we shall get sold together,--whoknows?"

"If 't was anybody's else case, I should say so, too, Em," said thewoman; "but I'm so feard of losin' you that I don't see anything but thedanger."

"Why, mother, the man said we were both likely, and would sell well."

Susan remembered the man's looks and words. With a deadly sickness ather heart, she remembered how he had looked at Emmeline's hands, andlifted up her curly hair, and pronounced her a first-rate article. Susanhad been trained as a Christian, brought up in the daily reading of theBible, and had the same horror of her child's being sold to a lifeof shame that any other Christian mother might have; but she had nohope,--no protection.

"Mother, I think we might do first rate, if you could get a place ascook, and I as chambermaid or seamstress, in some family. I dare say weshall. Let's both look as bright and lively as we can, and tell all wecan do, and perhaps we shall," said Emmeline.

"I want you to brush your hair all back straight, tomorrow," said Susan.

"What for, mother? I don't look near so well, that way."

"Yes, but you'll sell better so."

"I don't see why!" said the child.

"Respectable families would be more apt to buy you, if they saw youlooked plain and decent, as if you wasn't trying to look handsome. Iknow their ways better 'n you do," said Susan.

"Well, mother, then I will."

"And, Emmeline, if we shouldn't ever see each other again, aftertomorrow,--if I'm sold way up on a plantation somewhere, and yousomewhere else,--always remember how you've been brought up, and allMissis has told you; take your Bible with you, and your hymn-book; andif you're faithful to the Lord, he'll be faithful to you."

So speaks the poor soul, in sore discouragement; for she knowsthat tomorrow any man, however vile and brutal, however godless andmerciless, if he only has money to pay for her, may become owner of herdaughter, body and soul; and then, how is the child to be faithful? Shethinks of all this, as she holds her daughter in her arms, andwishes that she were not handsome and attractive. It seems almost anaggravation to her to remember how purely and piously, how much abovethe ordinary lot, she has been brought up. But she has no resort but to_pray_; and many such prayers to God have gone up from those same trim,neatly-arranged, respectable slave-prisons,--prayers which God has notforgotten, as a coming day shall show; for it is written, "Who causethone of these little ones to offend, it were better for him that amillstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in thedepths of the sea."

The soft, earnest, quiet moonbeam looks in fixedly, marking the barsof the grated windows on the prostrate, sleeping forms. The mother anddaughter are singing together a wild and melancholy dirge, common as afuneral hymn among the slaves:

"O, where is weeping Mary? O, where is weeping Mary? 'Rived in the goodly land. She is dead and gone to Heaven; She is dead and gone to Heaven; 'Rived in the goodly land."

These words, sung by voices of a peculiar and melancholy sweetness, inan air which seemed like the sighing of earthy despair after heavenlyhope, floated through the dark prison rooms with a pathetic cadence, asverse after verse was breathed out:

"O, where are Paul and Silas? O, where are Paul and Silas? Gone to the goodly land. They are dead and gone to Heaven; They are dead and gone to Heaven; 'Rived in the goodly land."

Sing on poor souls! The night is short, and the morning will part youforever!

But now it is morning, and everybody is astir; and the worthy Mr. Skeggsis busy and bright, for a lot of goods is to be fitted out for auction.There is a brisk lookout on the toilet; injunctions passed aroundto every one to put on their best face and be spry; and now all arearranged in a circle for a last review, before they are marched up tothe Bourse.

Mr. Skeggs, with his palmetto on and his cigar in his mouth, walksaround to put farewell touches on his wares.

"How's this?" he said, stepping in front of Susan and Emmeline. "Where'syour curls, gal?"

The girl looked timidly at her mother, who, with the smooth adroitnesscommon among her class, answers,

"I was telling her, last night, to put up her hair smooth and neat, andnot havin' it flying about in curls; looks more respectable so."

"Bother!" said the man, peremptorily, turning to the girl; "you go rightalong, and curl yourself real smart!" He added, giving a crack to arattan he held in his hand, "And be back in quick time, too!"

"You go and help her," he added, to the mother. "Them curls may make ahundred dollars difference in the sale of her."

Beneath a splendid dome were men of all nations, moving to and fro,over the marble pave. On every side of the circular area were littletribunes, or stations, for the use of speakers and auctioneers. Two ofthese, on opposite sides of the area, were now occupied by brilliant andtalented gentlemen, enthusiastically forcing up, in English and Frenchcommingled, the bids of connoisseurs in their various wares. A thirdone, on the other side, still unoccupied, was surrounded by a group,waiting the moment of sale to begin. And here we may recognize the St.Clare servants,--Tom, Adolph, and others; and there, too, Susan andEmmeline, awaiting their turn with anxious and dejected faces. Variousspectators, intending to purchase, or not intending, examining, andcommenting on their various points and faces with the same freedom thata set of jockeys discuss the merits of a horse.

"Hulloa, Alf! what brings you here?" said a young exquisite, slappingthe shoulder of a sprucely-dressed young man, who was examining Adolphthrough an eye-glass.

"Well! I was wanting a valet, and I heard that St. Clare's lot wasgoing. I thought I'd just look at his--"

"Catch me ever buying any of St. Clare's people! Spoilt niggers, everyone. Impudent as the devil!" said the other.

"Never fear that!" said the first. "If I get 'em, I'll soon have theirairs out of them; they'll soon find that they've another kind of masterto deal with than Monsieur St. Clare. 'Pon my word, I'll buy thatfellow. I like the shape of him."

"You'll find it'll take all you've got to keep him. He's deucedlyextravagant!"

"Yes, but my lord will find that he _can't_ be extravagant with _me_.Just let him be sent to the calaboose a few times, and thoroughlydressed down! I'll tell you if it don't bring him to a sense of hisways! O, I'll reform him, up hill and down,--you'll see. I buy him,that's flat!"

Tom had been standing wistfully examining the multitude of facesthronging around him, for one whom he would wish to call master. And ifyou should ever be under the necessity, sir, of selecting, out of twohundred men, one who was to become your absolute owner and disposer, youwould, perhaps, realize, just as Tom did, how few there were that youwould feel at all comfortable in being made over to. Tom saw abundanceof men,--great, burly, gruff men; little, chirping, dried men;long-favored, lank, hard men; and every variety of stubbed-looking,commonplace men, who pick up their fellow-men as one picks up chips,putting them into the fire or a basket with equal unconcern, accordingto their convenience; but he saw no St. Clare.

A little before the sale commenced, a short, broad, muscular man, in achecked shirt considerably open at the bosom, and pantaloons much theworse for dirt and wear, elbowed his way through the crowd, like one whois going actively into a business; and, coming up to the group, beganto examine them systematically. From the moment that Tom saw himapproaching, he felt an immediate and revolting horror at him, thatincreased as he came near. He was evidently, though short, of giganticstrength. His round, bullet head, large, light-gray eyes, with theirshaggy, sandy eyebrows, and stiff, wiry, sun-burned hair, were ratherunprepossessing items, it is to be confessed; his large, coarse mouthwas distended with tobacco, the juice of which, from time to time, heejected from him with great decision and explosive force; his handswere immensely large, hairy, sun-burned, freckled, and very dirty, andgarnished with long nails, in a very foul condition. This man proceededto a very free personal examination of the lot. He seized Tom by thejaw, and pulled open his mouth to inspect his teeth; made him stripup his sleeve, to show his muscle; turned him round, made him jump andspring, to show his paces.

"Where was you raised?" he added, briefly, to these investigations.

"In Kintuck, Mas'r," said Tom, looking about, as if for deliverance.

"What have you done?"

"Had care of Mas'r's farm," said Tom.

"Likely story!" said the other, shortly, as he passed on. He paused amoment before Dolph; then spitting a discharge of tobacco-juice on hiswell-blacked boots, and giving a contemptuous umph, he walked on. Againhe stopped before Susan and Emmeline. He put out his heavy, dirty hand,and drew the girl towards him; passed it over her neck and bust, felther arms, looked at her teeth, and then pushed her back against hermother, whose patient face showed the suffering she had been goingthrough at every motion of the hideous stranger.

The girl was frightened, and began to cry.

"Stop that, you minx!" said the salesman; "no whimpering here,--the saleis going to begin." And accordingly the sale begun.

Adolph was knocked off, at a good sum, to the young gentlemen who hadpreviously stated his intention of buying him; and the other servants ofthe St. Clare lot went to various bidders.

"Now, up with you, boy! d'ye hear?" said the auctioneer to Tom.

Tom stepped upon the block, gave a few anxious looks round; all seemedmingled in a common, indistinct noise,--the clatter of the salesmancrying off his qualifications in French and English, the quick fire ofFrench and English bids; and almost in a moment came the final thumpof the hammer, and the clear ring on the last syllable of the word_"dollars,"_ as the auctioneer announced his price, and Tom was madeover.--He had a master!

He was pushed from the block;--the short, bullet-headed man seizinghim roughly by the shoulder, pushed him to one side, saying, in a harshvoice, "Stand there, _you!_"

Tom hardly realized anything; but still the bidding went on,--ratting,clattering, now French, now English. Down goes the hammer again,--Susanis sold! She goes down from the block, stops, looks wistfully back,--herdaughter stretches her hands towards her. She looks with agony in theface of the man who has bought her,--a respectable middle-aged man, ofbenevolent countenance.

"O, Mas'r, please do buy my daughter!"

"I'd like to, but I'm afraid I can't afford it!" said the gentleman,looking, with painful interest, as the young girl mounted the block, andlooked around her with a frightened and timid glance.

The blood flushes painfully in her otherwise colorless cheek, her eyehas a feverish fire, and her mother groans to see that she looksmore beautiful than she ever saw her before. The auctioneer sees hisadvantage, and expatiates volubly in mingled French and English, andbids rise in rapid succession.

"I'll do anything in reason," said the benevolent-looking gentleman,pressing in and joining with the bids. In a few moments they have runbeyond his purse. He is silent; the auctioneer grows warmer; but bidsgradually drop off. It lies now between an aristocratic old citizenand our bullet-headed acquaintance. The citizen bids for a few turns,contemptuously measuring his opponent; but the bullet-head has theadvantage over him, both in obstinacy and concealed length of purse, andthe controversy lasts but a moment; the hammer falls,--he has got thegirl, body and soul, unless God help her!

Her master is Mr. Legree, who owns a cotton plantation on the Red River.She is pushed along into the same lot with Tom and two other men, andgoes off, weeping as she goes.

The benevolent gentleman is sorry; but, then, the thing happens everyday! One sees girls and mothers crying, at these sales, _always!_ itcan't be helped, &c.; and he walks off, with his acquisition, in anotherdirection.

Two days after, the lawyer of the Christian firm of B. & Co., New York,send on their money to them. On the reverse of that draft, so obtained,let them write these words of the great Paymaster, to whom they shallmake up their account in a future day: _"When he maketh inquisition forblood, he forgetteth not the cry of the humble!"_