CHAPTER VI.

by Solomon Northup

　　CHAPTER VI.freeman's industry cleanliness and clothes exercising in theshow room the dance bob, the fiddler arrival of custom-ers slaves examined the old gentleman of new-orleanssale of david, caroline and lethe parting of randall andeliza small pox the hospital recovery and return tofreeman's slave pen the purchaser of eliza, harry and platt— eliza's agony on parting from little emily.The very amiable, pious-hearted Mr. TheophilusFreeman, partner or consignee of James II. Burch,and keeper of the slave pen in New-Orleans, was outamong his animals early in the morning. With anoccasional kick of the older men and women, andmany a sharp crack of the whip about the ears of theyounger slaves, it was not long before they were allastir, and wide awake. Mr. Theophilus Freemanbustled about in a very industrious manner, gettinghis property ready for the sales-room, intending, nodoubt, to do that day a rousing business.In the first place we were required to wash thorough-ly, and those with beards, to shave. TTe were thenfurnished with a new suit each, cheap, but clean.The men had hat, coat, shirt, pants and shoes ; thewomen frocks of calico, and handkerchiefs to bindabout their heads. ~We were now conducted into alarge room in the front part of the building to which

　　freeman's industry. 79the yard was attached, in order to be properly trained,before the admission of customers. The men werearranged on one side of the room, the women on theother. The tallest was placed at the head of the row,then the next tallest, and so on in the order of theirrespective heights. Emily was at the foot of theline of women. Freeman charged ns to remem-ber our places ; exhorted us to appear smart and live-ly, — sometimes threatening, and again, holding outvarious inducements. During the day he exercisedus in the art of " looking smart," and of moving toour places with exact precision.After being fed, in the afternoon, we were againparaded and made to dance. Bob, a colored boy,who had some time belonged to Freeman, played onthe violin. Standing near him, I made bold to in-quire if he could play the " Virginia Reel." He an-swered he could not, and asked me if I could play.Replying in the affirmative, he handed me the violin.I struck up a tune, and finished it. Freeman orderedme to continue playing, and seemed well pleased,telling Bob that I far excelled him — a remark thatseemed to grieve my musical companion very much.Next day many customers called to examine Free-man's " new lot." The latter gentleman was veryloquacious, dwelling at much length upon our severalgood points and qualities. He would make us holdup our heads, walk briskly back and forth, while cus-tomers would feel of our hands and arms and bodies,turn lis about, ask us what we could do, make us open

　　80 TWELVE YEAJRS A SLAV'S.our mouths and show our teeth, precisely as a jockeyexamines a horse which he is about to barter for orpurchase. Sometimes a man or woman was takenback to the small house in the yard, stripped, and in-spected more minutely. Scars upon a slave's backwere considered evidence of a rebellious or unrulyspirit, and hurt his sale.One old gentleman, who said he wanted a coach-man, appeared to take a fancy to me. From his con-versation with Burch, I learned he was a resident inthe city. I very much desired that he would buy me,because I conceived it would not be difficult to makerny escape from [New-Orleans on some northern vessel.Freeman asked him fifteen hundred dollars for me.The old gentleman insisted it was too much, as timeswere very hard. Freeman, however, declared that Iwas sound and healthy, of a good constitution, andintelligent. He made it a point to enlarge upon mymusical attainments. The old gentleman arguedquite adroitly that there was nothing extraordinaryabout the nigger, and finally, to my regret, went out,saying he would call again. During the day, how-ever, a number of sales were made. David and Car-oline were purchased together by a Natchez planter.They left us, grinning broadly, and in the most happystate of mind, caused by the fact of their not being sep-arated. Lethe was sold to a planter of Baton Rouge,her eyes flashing with anger as she was led away.The same man also purchased Randall. The littlefellow was made to jump, and run across the floor,

　　PARTING OF RANDALL AND ELIZA. 81and perform many other feats, exhibiting his activityand condition. All the time the trade was going on,Eliza was crying aloud, and wringing her hands. Shebesought the man not to buy him, unless he alsobought herself and Emily. She promised, in that case,to be the most faithful slave that ever lived. Theman answered that he could not afford it, and thenEliza burst into a paroxysm of grief, weeping plain-tively. Freeman turned round to her, savagely, withhis whip in his uplifted hand, ordering her to stop hernoise, or he would flog her. He would not have suchwork — such snivelling; and unless she ceased thatminute, he would take her to the yard and give her ahundred lashes. Yes, he would take the nonsense outof her pretty quick — if he didn't, might he be d — d.Eliza shrunk before him, and tried to wipe away keitears, but it was all in vain. She wanted to be withher children, she said, the little time she had to live.All the frowns and threats of Freeman, could notwholly silence the afflicted mother. She kept on beg-ging and beseeching them, most piteously, not to sep-arate the three. Over and over ao;ain she told themhow she loved her boy. A great many times sherepeated her former promises — how very faithful andobedient she would be ; how hard she would laborday and night, to the last moment of her life, if hewould only buy them all together. But it was of noavail ; the man could not afford it. The bargain wasagreed upon, and Randall must go alone. Then Eli-za, ran to him ; embraced him passionately ; kissed

　　82 TWELVE YEARS A SLATE.him again and again; told him to remember her — ■all the while her tears falling in the boy's face like rain.Freeman damned her, calling her a blubbering,bawling wench, and ordered her to go to her place,and behave herself, and be somebody. He swore hewouldn't stand such stuff but a little longer. Hewould soon give her something to cry about, if shewas not mighty careful, and that she might dependupon.The planter from Baton Rouge, with his new pur-chases, was ready to depart." Don't cry, mama. I will be a good boy. Don'tcry," said Randall, looking back, as they passed outof the door."What has become of the lad, God knows. It wasa mournful scene indeed. I w T ould have cried myselfif I had dared.That night, nearly all who came in on the brig Or-leans, were taken ill. They complained of violentpain in the head and back. Little Emily — a thingunusual with her — cried constantly. In the morn-ing a physician was called in, but was unable to de-termine the nature of our complaint. While examin-ing me, and asking questions touching my symptoms,I gave it as my opinion that it was an attack of small-pox — mentioning the fact of Robert's death as thereason of my belief. It might be so indeed, he thought,and he would send for the head physician of the hos-pital. Shortly, the head physician came — a small,light-haired man, whom they called Dr. Carr. He

　　SMALL-FOX. 83pronounced it small-pox, whereupon there was much,alarm throughout the yard. Soon after Dr. Carr left,Eliza, Emmy, Harry and myself were put into a hackand driven to the hospital — a large white marblebuilding, standing on the outskirts of the city. Har-ry and I were placed in a room in one of the upperstories. I became very sick. For three days I wasentirely blind. While lying in this state one day,Bob came in, saying to Dr. Can* that Freeman hadsent him over to inquire how we were getting on.Tell him, said the doctor, that Piatt is very bad, butthat if he survives until nine o'clock, he may recover.I expected to die. Though there was little in theprospect before me worth living for, the near approachof death appalled me. I thought I could have beenresigned to yield up my life in the bosom of my family,but to expire in the midst of strangers, under suchcircumstances, was a bitter reflection.There were a great number in the hospital, of bothsexes, and of all ages. In the rear of the buildingcoffins were manufactured. "When one died, the belltolled — a signal to the undertaker to come and bearaway the body to the potter's field. Many times, eachday and night, the tolling bell sent forth its melan-choly voice, announcing another death. But my timehad not yet come. The crisis having passed, I began torevive, and at the end of two weeks and two days,returned with Harry to the pen, bearing upon myface the effects of the malady, which to this day con-tinues to disfigure it. Eliza and Emily were also

　　84 TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE.brought back next day in a hack, and again were weparaded in the sales-room, for the inspection and ex-amination of purchasers. I still indulged the hopethat the old gentleman in search of a coachman wouldcall again, as he had promised, and purchase me. Inthat event I felt an abiding confidence that I wouldsoon regain my liberty. Customer after customerentered, but the old gentleman never made his ap-pearance.At length, one day, while we were in the yard,Freeman came out and ordered us to our places, inthe great room. A gentleman was waiting for us aswe entered, and inasmuch as he will be often men-tioned in the progress of this narrative, a descriptionof his personal appearance, and my estimation of hischaracter, at first sight, may not be out of place.He was a man above the ordinary height, some-what bent and stooping forward. He was a good-looking man, and appeared to have reached about themiddle age of life. There was nothing repulsive inhis presence ; but on the other hand, there was some-thing cheerful and attractive in his face, and in histone of voice. The finer elements were all kindlymingled in his breast, as any one could see. Hemoved about among us, asking many questions, as towhat we could do, and what labor we had been ac-customed to ; if we thought we would like to livewith him, and would be good boys if he would buyus, and other interrogatories of like character.After some further inspection, and conversation

　　eliza's parting fkom emilt. 85touching prices, he finally offered Freeman one thou-sand dollars for me, nine hundred for Harry, and sev-en hundred for Eliza. Whether the small-pox haddepreciated our value, or from what cause Freemanhad concluded to fall five hundred dollars from theprice I was before held at, I cannot say. At any rate,after a little shrewd reflection, he announced his ac-ceptance of the offer.As soon as Eliza heard it, she was in an agonyagain. By this time she had become haggard andhollow-eyed with sickness and with sorrow. It wouldbe a relief if I could consistently pass over in silencethe scene that now ensued. It recalls memories moremournful and affecting than any language can por-tray. I have seen mothers kissing for the last timethe faces of their dead offspring ; I have seen themlooking down into the grave, as the earth fell with adull sound upon their coffins, hiding them from theireyes forever ; but never have I seen such an exhibi-tion of intense, unmeasured, and unbounded grief, aswhen Eliza was parted from her child. She brokefrom her place in the line of women, and rushing downwhere Emily was standing, caught her in her arms.The child, sensible of some impending danger, instinct-ively fastened her hands around her mother's neck,and nestled her little head upon her bosom. Free-man sternly ordered her to be quiet, but she did notheed him. He caught her by the arm and pulled herrudely, but she only clung the closer to the child.Then, with a volley of great oaths, he struck her such

　　bb TWELVE YEAKS A SLAVE.a heartless blow, that she staggered backward, andwas like to fall. Oh ! how piteously then did she be-seech and beg and pray that they might not be sepa-rated. Why could they not be purchased together ?Why not let her have one of her dear children ?" Mercy, mercy, master ! " she cried, falling on herknees. " Please, master, buy Emily. I can neverwork any if she is taken from me : I will die."Freeman interfered again, but, disregarding him,she still plead most earnestly, telling how Randall hadbeen taken from her — how she never would see himagain, and now it was too bad — oh, God ! it was toobad, too cruel, to take her away from Emily — herpride — her only darling, that could not live, it wasso young, without its mother !Finally, after much more of supplication, the pur-chaser of Eliza stepped forward, evidently affected,and said to Freeman he would buy Emily, and askedhim what her price was." What is her price f Buy her ?" was the respon-sive interrogatory of Theophilus Freeman. And in-stantly answering his own inquiry, he added, " I won'tsell her. She's not for sale.The man remarked he was not in need of one soyoung — that it would be of no profit to him, butsince the mother was so fond of her, rather than seethem separated, he would pay a reasonable price.But to this humane proposal Freeman was entirelydeaf. He would not sell her then on any accountwhatever. There were heaps and piles of money to

　　FREEMAN REFUSES TO SELL EMILY. 87be made of her, lie said, when she was a few yearsolder. There were men enough in New-Orleans whowould give five thousand dollars for such an extra,handsome, fancy piece as Emily would be, rather thannot get her. lS"o, no, he would not sell her then.She was a beauty — a picture — a doll — ■ one of theregular bloods — none of your thick-lipped, bullet-headed, cotton-picking niggers — if she was might hebe d— d.When Eliza heard Freeman's determination not topart with Emily, she became absolutely frantic." I will not go without her. They shall not takeher from me," she fairly shrieked, her shrieks com-mingling with the loud and angry voice of Freeman,commanding her to be silent.Meantime Harry and myself had been to the yardand returned with our blankets, and were at the frontdoor ready to leave. Our purchaser stood near us,gazing at Eliza with an expression indicative of re-gret at having bought her at the expense of so muchsorrow. "We waited some time, when, finally, Free-man, out of patience, tore Emily from her mother bymain force, the two clinging to each other with alltheir might." Don't leave me, mama — don't leave me," scream-ed the child, as its mother was pushed harshly for-ward ; " Don't leave me — come back, mama," she stillcried, stretching forth her little arms imploringly.But she cried in vain. Out of the door and into thestreet we were quickly hurried. Still we could hear

　　88 TWELVE TEARS A SLAVE.her calling to her mother, " Comeback — don't leaveme — come back, mama," until her infant voice grewfaint and still more faint, and gradually died away,as distance intervened, and finally was wholly lost.Eliza never after saw or heard of Emily or Randall.Day nor night, however, were they ever absent fromher memory. In the cotton field, in the cabin, al-ways and everywhere, she was talking of them — oftento them, as if they were actuall} r present. Onlywhen absorbed in that illusion, or asleep, did she everhave a moment's comfort afterwards.She was no common slave, as has been said. To alarge share of natural intelligence which she possess-ed, was added a general knowledge and informationon most subjects. She had enjoyed opportunities suchas are afforded to very few of her oppressed class.She had been lifted up into the regions of a higherlife. Freedom — freedom for herself and for her off-spring, for many years had been her cloud by day,her pillar of fire by night. In her pilgrimage throughthe wilderness of bondage, with eyes fixed upon thathope-inspiring beacon, she had at length ascended to" the top of Pisgah," and beheld " the land of prom-ise." In an unexpected moment she was utterly over-whelmed with disappointment and despair. The glo-rious vision of liberty faded from her sight as they ledher away into captivity. ISTow " she weepeth sore inthe night, and tears are on her cheeks : all her friendshave dealt treacherously with her : they have becomeher enemies."