Clotelle; or The Colored Heroine | Page 5

There she stood, with a skin as fair as most
white women, her features as beautifully regular as any of her sex of
pure Anglo-Saxon blood, her long black hair done up in the neatest
manner, her form tall and graceful, and her whole appearance
indicating one superior to her condition.

The auctioneer commenced by saying that Miss Isabella was fit to deck
the drawing-room of the finest mansion in Virginia.
"How much, gentlemen, for this real Albino!--fit fancy-girl for any one!
She enjoys good health, and has a sweet temper. How much do you
say?"
"Five hundred dollars."
"Only five hundred for such a girl as this? Gentlemen, she is worth a
deal more than that sum. You certainly do not know the value of the
article you are bidding on. Here, gentlemen, I hold in my hand a paper
certifying that she has a good moral character."
"Seven hundred."
"Ah, gentlemen, that is something life. This paper also states that she is
very intelligent."
"Eight hundred."
"She was first sprinkled, then immersed, and is now warranted to be a
devoted Christian, and perfectly trustworthy."
"Nine hundred dollars."
"Nine hundred and fifty."
"One thousand."
"Eleven hundred."
Here the bidding came to a dead stand. The auctioneer stopped, looked
around, and began in a rough manner to relate some anecdote
connected with the sale of slaves, which he said had come under his
own observation.
At this juncture the scene was indeed a most striking one. The laughing,
joking, swearing, smoking, spitting, and talking, kept up a continual

hum and confusion among the crowd, while the slave-girl stood with
tearful eyes, looking alternately at her mother and sister and toward the
young man whom she hoped would become her purchaser.
"The chastity of this girl," now continued the auctioneer, "is pure. She
has never been from under her mother's care. She is virtuous, and as
gentle as a dove."
The bids here took a fresh start, and went on until $1800 was reached.
The auctioneer once more resorted to his jokes, and concluded by
assuring the company that Isabella was not only pious, but that she
could make an excellent prayer.
"Nineteen hundred dollars."
"Two thousand."
This was the last bid, and the quadroon girl was struck off, and became
the property of Henry Linwood.
This was a Virginia slave-auction, at which the bones, sinews, blood,
and nerves of a young girl of eighteen were sold for $500; her moral
character for $200; her superior intellect for $100; the benefits
supposed to accrue from her having been sprinkled and immersed,
together with a warranty of her devoted Christianity, for $300; her
ability to make a good prayer for $200; and her chastity for $700 more.
This, too, in a city thronged with churches, whose tall spires look like
so many signals pointing to heaven, but whose ministers preach that
slavery is a God-ordained institution!
The slaves were speedily separated, and taken along by their respective
masters. Jennings, the slave-speculator, who had purchased Agnes and
her daughter Marion, with several of the other slaves, took them to the
county prison, where he usually kept his human cattle after purchasing
them, previous to starting for the New Orleans market.
Linwood had already provided a place for Isabella, to which she was
taken. The most trying moment for her was when she took leave of her

mother and sister. The "Good-by" of the slave is unlike that of any
other class in the community. It is indeed a farewell forever. With tears
streaming down their cheeks, they embraced and commended each
other to God, who is no respecter of persons, and before whom master
and slave must one day appear.


CHAPTER III
THE SLAVE-SPECULATOR
DICK JENNINGS the slave-speculator, was one of the few Northern
men, who go to the South and throw aside their honest mode of
obtaining a living and resort to trading in human beings. A more
repulsive-looking person could scarcely be found in any community of
bad looking men. Tall, lean and lank, with high cheek-bones, face
much pitted with the small-pox, gray eyes with red eyebrows, and
sandy whiskers, he indeed stood alone without mate or fellow in looks.
Jennings prided himself upon what he called his goodness of heat, and
was always speaking of his humanity. As many of the slaves whom he
intended taking to the New Orleans market had been raised in
Richmond, and had relations there, he determined to leave the city early
in the morning, so as not to witness any of the scenes so common on
the departure of a slave-gang to the far South. In this, he was most
successful; for not even Isabella, who had called at the prison several
times to see her mother and sister, was aware of the time