The Liberator

DOMESTIC SLAVE TRADE.

EXTRACT OF A LETTER.

The incidents related in the following extract of a letter from a correspondent at the West, dated December 12, possesses considerable interest, and our friend will pardon us for giving them publicity. Such scenes as are related below, our readers are aware are not uncommon, but of daily occurrence.

Slavery, most will admit, has heretofore as a general thing, been looked upon with too much indifference. But if we may judge from the 'signs of the times,' indifference is now giving way to reflection and the most intense interest; and our whole country is becoming awake to this subject,—and to the importance of some more effectual and speedy means of doing justice to the oppressed, and wiping out a deep and national blot from our country.

'I took passage on board a steam-boat at Cincinnati, and started down the river. It was a beautiful morning, and my spirits were light and cheerful, after being confined to close study for six months. I enjoyed my ride with great zest for 30 or 40 miles, when suddenly a damper was thrown on my spirits. which made me sad all the rest of my journey. After riding 4 or 5 hours, our boat stopped at a landing place on the Kentucky side of the river. Presently there came down to the edge of the river a huge Kentuckian, leading a horse and driving four slaves—two large well formed young men, one young negro woman, and one little girl. The young men were bound together at the wrist, with a large heavy iron band, so that they were obliged to follow one another wherever they went. The young woman's hands were manacled, and the little girl was permitted to have her liberty. The man who was driving them was a slave-dealer, and had purchased these with others to drive to the New-Orleans market. He ordered them on board. They were thinly clad, but were not permitted to come near the fire. He brandished over them a large heavy loaded whip. and they fled away from his presence into one corner of the boat, and sat there shivering in the wind, all day long. Some one of the passengers asked the slave-dealer how the negroes liked to change masters—"How!" said he, " they don't mind any thing about it. Here, Sue," said he, speaking to the little girl, " hadn't you rather go with me, than to stay where you was?" "I want to go back," said she, and burst into tears. "Get away— go and sit down!" said he, in a harsh voice.

This was too much for me. I entered into the cabin, hid my face and wept. I thought of the aged negro, who, as he was passing through the streets of Washington, raised his clanking chains to heaven, and sang 'Hail, Columbia, happy land!'

'Oh my God, thought I, how long shall those who bear the impress and image of God be held as slaves, and weep and mourn away their lives in chains and bondage! God forgive the sins of my country, for they have risen to heaven against her!' In the evening, after their scanty pittance of a meal had been dealt out to them, I went out and conversed with them a long time. I asked them how they liked the idea of going to New-Orleans. They seemed almost to shudder at the idea: they said they knew that they should be treated cruelly, and they desired very much to go back to their old master. I asked them if they knew that their master had no right to them as property, any more than he had to me. They said they supposed he hadn't, but they could not help themselves. I asked them if they had enough to eat, and they said no. I then went and purchased some crackers and distributed among them, for which they seemed to be very grateful. I then offered the young woman and the little girl my cloak, but they would not accept it, although shivering in the cold. The reason, I suppose, was fear of the lash!'