What Became of the Slaves on a Georgia Plantation?: Great Auction Sale of Slaves, at Savannah, Georgia, March 2d & 3d, 1859 — John Shaqi
What Became of the Slaves on a Georgia Plantation?: Great Auction Sale of Slaves, at Savannah, Georgia, March 2d & 3d, 1859Doesticks, Q. K. Philander
History
What Became of the Slaves on a Georgia Plantation?: Great Auction Sale of Slaves, at Savannah, Georgia, March 2d & 3d, 1859
Doesticks, Q. K. Philander
Slave trade -- United States; Slavery -- Georgia
Leaving the Race buildings, where the scenes we have described took
place, a crowd of negroes were seen gathered eagerly about a white man.
That man was Pierce M. Butler, of the free City of Philadelphia, who
was solacing the wounded hearts of the people he had sold from their
firesides and their homes, by doling out to them small change at the
rate of a dollar a-head. To every negro he had sold, who presented his
claim for the paltry pittance, he gave the munificent stipend of one
whole dollar, in specie; he being provided with two canvas bags of 25
cent pieces, fresh from the mint, to give an additional glitter to his
generosity.
And now come the scenes of the last partings--of the final separations
of those who were akin, or who had been such dear friends from youth
that no ties of kindred could bind them closer--of those who were all
in all to each other, and for whose bleeding hearts there shall be
no earthly comfort--the parting of parents and children, of brother
from brother, and the rending of sister from a sister's bosom; and O!
hardest, cruellest of all, the tearing asunder of loving hearts, wedded
in all save the one ceremony of the Church--these scenes pass all
description; it is not meet for pen to meddle with tears so holy.
As the last family stepped down from the block, the rain ceased, for
the first time in four days, the clouds broke away, and the soft
sunlight fell on the scene. The unhappy slaves had many of them been
already removed, and others were now departing with their new masters.
That night, not a steamer left that Southern port, not a train of cars
sped away from that cruel city, that did not bear each its own sad
burden of those unhappy ones, whose only crime is that they are not
strong and wise. Some of them maimed and wounded, some scarred and
gashed, by accident, or by the hand of ruthless drivers--all sad and
sorrowful as human hearts can be.
But the stars shone out as brightly as if such things had never been,
the blushing fruit-trees poured their fragrance on the evening air, and
the scene was as calmly sweet and quiet as if Man had never marred the
glorious beauties of Earth by deeds of cruelty and wrong.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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