But on New Year’s Day of 1861 we were startled by an event altogether unique. It filled many pro-slavery men with bitter resentment, but put new life and hope into anti-slavery men of all shades of opinion, and even some who were supposed to uphold slavery were amused and in their secret souls rejoiced over the strange happening. It came to pass in this wise. When estates in St. Louis and St. Louis County were in process of settlement, there were often slaves belonging to them that must be disposed of at their market value. But when there was no immediate demand for such property these poor creatures were put for safe keeping into the county jail, until they could be sold. Of course they were not regarded as criminals, but simply as valuable assets that, having brains, and wills, and consciences, might run away, to the financial detriment of voracious heirs. So, until the conditions were favorable for a sale, these self-willed chattels were securely lodged behind the stone walls and barred doors and windows of the malodorous jail. In connection with this reprehensible procedure, a culpable custom had sprung up,—a custom exceedingly offensive to most of the inhabitants of St. Louis. It had become the duty of the sheriff, or his deputy, when the kind-hearted heirs gave the order, to sell at auction, on New Year’s Day, these imprisoned slaves from the granite steps of the Court-house. So, on the first of January, 1861, a slave auctioneer appeared with seven colored chattels of various hues, the thinking fag-ends of estates, just led out by him from the jail, where, some of them, for more than a year, without having been charged with any crime or misdemeanor, had been forced to be the companions of thieves, adulterers, and murderers. The auctioneer placed these cowering slaves on the pedestal of one of the massive pillars of the Court-house. Crowning the cupola of this building, dedicated to the righteous interpretation and execution of the law, was a statue of Justice, with eyes blindfolded, holding in her hand a pair of scales, the symbol of impartial equity. From the top of the great granite pillar, beside which these shrinking human chattels stood, waved for the hour a star-spangled banner, the symbol of freedom for all the oppressed. This auction of slaves had been extensively advertised, and about two thousand young men had secretly banded themselves together to stop the sale and, if possible, put an end to this annual disgrace. The auctioneer on his arrival at the Court-house found this crowd of freemen in a dense mass waiting for him. The sight of bondmen about to be offered for sale, and that too under the floating folds of their national flag, crimsoned their cheeks with shame and made their hearts hot within them. Yet they scarcely uttered a word as they stood watching the auctioneer and the timid, shrinking slaves at his side. At last he was ready and cried out, “What will you bid for this able-bodied boy?[5] There’s not a blemish on