Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - New Orleans, Louisiana, Jan. 1, 1851
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that he could rise above it—a rich man, as the
only rich and powerful man in the world. If I
wanted to portray the image of perfected, hardened
selfishness, I would paint that beautiful head.
That perfectly dark expression of countenance—the
absence of light, life, joy—was only the more
striking because the complexion was fair; and the
cheeks, although somewhat sunken, had a beautiful
bloom. He seemed to be about fifty.
On the 31st of December I went with my kind
and estimable physician to witness a slave-auction,
which took place not far from my abode. It was
held at one of the small auction-rooms which are
found in various parts of New Orleans. The principal
scene of slave-auctions is a splendid rotunda,
the magnificent dome of which is worthy to resound
with songs of freedom. We entered a large
and somewhat cold and dirty hall on the basement
story of a house, where a great number of people
were assembled. About twenty gentlemanlike men
stood in a half circle around a dirty wooden platform,
which for the moment was unoccupied. On
each side, by the wall, stood a number of black
men and women, silent and serious. The whole
assembly was silent, and it seemed to me as if a
heavy gray cloud rested upon it. One heard
through the open door the rain falling heavily in
the street. The gentlemen looked askance at me
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