High Price of Negroes - published January 22, 1857

The Montgomery (Alabama) Messenger of the 7^th instant says:

We mentioned something yesterday of the sale of negroes on Monday, but we did not give the highest price paid which was a fellow, field hand, $1,800.  The lot of sixteen—of which the above was one—old, young and every description, averaged something over 800 each.  Yesterday another lot was sold here, bringing large prices—the highest we learn, bringing $1,600.

On Tuesday last, the sale day in Muscogee county, we are credibly informed by the sellers that a lot of negroes—a large one—“old an[d] young, and every description averaged” $850 each.  Now who can believe there is no money in the country?  And negroes hired at very high rates—ordinary female servants were bid off at $120 and upwards, and others in proportion.—Columbus Sun.

SOURCE: The Carolina Spartan, Spartanburg, South Carolina, Thursday, January 22, 1857, p. 2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 3, 1862

One of the President's Aids, Mr. Johnston, has asked the Secretary's permission for Mrs E. B. Hoge, Mrs. M. Anderson, Miss Judith Venable, and Mrs. R. J. Breckinridge, with children and servants, to leave Richmond by flag of truce, and proceed to their homes in Kentucky. Of course it will be granted — the President sanctions it, but does not commit himself by ordering it.

There was no fighting on the Rappahannock yesterday, and no rumors to-day.

Letters were received from Gen. Lee to-day. He says several thousand of his men are barefoot! He suggests that shoes be taken from the extortioners at a fair price. That is right. He also recommends a rule of the department putting cavalry on foot when they cannot furnish good horses, and mounting infantry that can and will procure them. This would cause better care to be taken of horses. Gen. Lee also writes for more arms — which may indicate a battle. But the weather is getting bad again, and the roads will not admit of marching.

Mr. Gastrell, M. C, writes to the Secretary of War for permission for Messrs. Frank and Gemot, a Jew firm of Augusta, Ga., to bring through the lines a stock of goods they have just purchased of the Yankees in Memphis. Being a member of Congress, I think his request will be granted. And if all such applications be granted, I think money-making will soon absorb the war, and bring down the prices of goods.

We are a confident people. There are no symptoms of trepidation, although a hostile army of 150,000 men is now within two day's march of our capital. A few of guilty consciences, the extortioners, may feel alarm — but not the women and children. They reflect that over one hundred thousand of the enemy were within four miles of the city last spring and summer—and were repulsed.

The negroes are the best-clad people in the South. They have their Sunday clothing, and the half-worn garments of their masters and mistresses; and having worn these but once a week, they have a decidedly fresher aspect than the dresses of their owners. They are well fed, too, at any cost, and present a happy-appearance. And they are happy. It is a great mistake of the Abolitionists, in supposing the slaves hail their coming with delight; on the contrary, nearly all the negroes regard their approach with horror.

It might be well for the South if 500,000 of the slaves were suddenly emancipated. The loss would not be felt — and the North would soon be conscious of having gained nothing! My friend, Dr. Powell, near the city, abandoned his farm last summer, when it was partly in possession of the enemy, leaving fifty negroes on it — which he could have sold for $50,000. They promised not to leave him, and they kept their word. Judge Donnell, in North Carolina, has left his plantation with several hundred thousand dollars worth on it — rather risking their loss than to sell them.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 201-3

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Wednesday, April 29, 1863

Exhausted as I was, I managed to sleep wonderfully well last night. We breakfasted at a place called Hallettsville at 7 A.M., and changed carriages again.

Here we took in four more Confederate soldiers as outsiders, and we were now eighteen in all. Nowhere but in this country would such a thing be permitted.

Owing to the great top-weight, the coach swayed about like a ship in a heavy sea, and the escapes of a capsize were almost miraculous. It is said that at the end of a Texan journey the question asked is not, “Have you been upset?” but, “How many times have you been upset?”

The value of the negroes working in the fields was constantly appraised by my fellow-travellers; and it appeared that, in Texas, an able-bodied male fetched $2500, whilst a well-skilled seamstress was worth $3500.

Two of my companions served through the late severe campaign in New Mexico, but they considered forty-eight hours in a closely-packed stage a greater hardship than any of their military experiences.

We passed many cotton-fields and beautiful Indian corn, but much of the latter had been damaged by the hail.

I was told that one-third of the land formerly devoted to cotton is still sown with that article, the remainder being corn, &c.*

We also passed through some very pretty country, full of fine post-oak and cotton trees, and we met many Mexican cotton-teams — some of the waggons with fourteen oxen or twelve mules, which were being cruelly ill-treated by their drivers.

We crossed several rivers with steep and difficult banks, and dined at a farmhouse at 2.30 P.M.

I have already discovered that, directly the bell rings, it is necessary to rush at one's food and bolt it as quickly as possible, without any ceremony or delay, otherwise it all disappears, so rapacious and so voracious are the natives at their meals whilst travelling. Dinner, on such occasions, in no case lasts more than seven minutes.

We reached Columbus at 6 P.M., and got rid of half our passengers there. These Texan towns generally consist of one large placa, with a well-built courthouse on one side and a hotel opposite, the other two sides being filled up with wooden stores. All their budding prosperity has been completely checked by the war; but every one anticipates a great immigration into Texas after the peace.

We crossed the Colorado river, and reached Alleyton, our destination, at 7 P.M.

This little wooden village has sprung into existence during the last three years, owing to its being the present terminus to the railroad. It was crammed full of travellers and cotton speculators; but, as an especial favour, the fat German and I were given a bed between us. I threw myself on the bed with my clothes on (bien entendu), and was fast asleep in five minutes. In the same room there were three other beds, each with two occupants.

The distance from San Antonio to Alleyton is 140 miles—time, forty-six hours.

_______________

* It is only in Texas that so much cotton is still grown.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 58-60

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, January 3, 1862

Last evening threatened snow but too cold. Today cold and dry. P. M. 4 o'clock began to rain; may rain for a month now.

Charles, an honest-looking contraband — six feet high, stout-built, thirty-six years old, wife sold South five years ago,— came in today from Union, Monroe County. He gives me such items as the following: Footing boots $9 to $10. New boots $18 to $20. Shoes $4 to $4.50. Sugar 25 to 30 [cents a pound], coffee 62½ , tea $1.50, soda 62½, pepper 75, bleached domestic 40 to 50 [cents a yard.] Alex Clark [his master], farmer near Union (east of it), Monroe County, one hundred and fifty (?) miles from Fayetteville — fifty miles beyond (?) Newbern. Started Saturday eve at 8 P. M., reached Raleigh next Monday night; crossed New River at Packs Ferry. (Packs a Union man.)

Companies broken up in Rebel army by furloughs, discharges, and sickness. Rich men's sons get discharges. Patrols put out to keep slaves at home. They tell slaves that the Yankees cut off arms of some negroes to make them worthless and sell the rest in Cuba for twenty-five hundred dollars each to pay cost of war. “No Northern gentlemen fight — only factory men thrown out of employ.” They (the negroes) will fight for the North if they find the Northerners are such as they think them.

Union is a larger and much finer town than Fayetteville. William Erskine, keeper of Salt Sulphur Springs, don't let Rebels stay in his houses. Suspected to be a Union man. Lewisburg three times as large as Fayetteville. Some Fayetteville people there. People in Greenbrier [County] don't want to fight any more.

General Augustus Chapman the leading military man in Monroe. Allen T. Capelton, the other mem[ber] of Legislature, Union man, had his property taken by them. Named Joshua Seward, farmer. Henry Woolwine, ditto, for Union, farmer, [living] near Union — three and three and one-half miles off. Dr. Ballard a good Union man (storekeeper) on the road from Giles to Union, twelve miles from Peterstown, also robbed by Floyd. Wm. Ballard and a large connection, all Union men — all in Monroe. Oliver Burns and Andrew Burns contributed largely to the Rebels. John Eckles in Union has a fine brick house — a Rebel colonel. Rebels from towards Lynchburg and Richmond would come by way of Covington, forty-five miles from Union. Landlords of principal hotel Rebels — one at Manassas. Two large, three-story high-school buildings, opposite sides of the street, on the hill this end of town. “Knobs,” or “Calder's Peak,” three miles from town. A hilly country, but more cleared and better houses than about Fayetteville.

They “press” poor folks' horses and teams not the rich folks'. Poor folks grumble at being compelled to act as patrols to keep rich men's negroes from running off. “When I came with my party, eleven of us, in sight of your pickets, I hardly knew what to do. If you were such people as they had told us, we would suffer. Some of the party turned to run. A man with a gun called out halt. I saw through the fence three more with guns. They asked, ‘Who comes there?’ I called out ‘Friends.’ The soldier had his gun raised; he dropped it and said: ‘Boys, these are some more of our colored friends,’ and told us to ‘come on, not to be afraid,’ that we were safe. Oh, I never felt so in my life. I could cry, I was so full of joy. And I found them and the major (Comly) and all I have seen so friendly — such perfect gentlemen, just as we hoped you were, but not as they told us you were.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 175-7

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: January 9, 1863

So eventless have the last few days been that it has not been worth while to make any note of them. Have been busy as usual, sewing, &c.  . . . It is amazing, and sorrowful too, to see how the language, operations, &c. of war are understood and imitated by the children. Almost their entire set of plays have reference to a state of war. George cuts lines of soldiers every day; marches them about; has battles; beats “the Yankees,” and carries off prisoners. Builds hospitals with blocks and corn-cobs; drives ambulances with chairs; administers pills to his rag-boy-babies, who are laid up in bed as sick and wounded soldiers. He gets sticks and hobbles about, saying that he lost a leg at the Second battle of Manassas; tells wonderful stories of how he cut off Yankees' heads, bayoneted them, &c. He has an old cartridge box and haversack, and with a stick for a sword, and something stuck in his belt for pistols, he struts about, bids me good-by daily with entire gravity, as his furlough is out and he must go to his regiment again. Little Herbert also kills “Lankees,” as he calls them, and can talk war lingo almost as well as George. The children are more familiar with war language than I was when I was grown up. They can tell all about pickets, cavalry, cannon, ambulances, &c. Sad indeed that very infancy has learned such language!

. . . Had a present that I hailed with a joy that cannot be easily imagined, yesterday — a pair of coarse shoes for little Herbert! Agnes sent them to him. The last two pair I had made him, and I had no more soles, so was at my wits' end; no shoemaker can be prevailed upon, for any money, to make a pair of child's shoes. Heard W. F. J. say, the other day, that he had married K. G. not long since, in a plain bombazine dress, the simple dress pattern of which cost $110! Potatoes are now $5 a bushel. The price of negroes is enormous. A young girl sold on the street the other day for a few dollars short of $2000. Heard of a not at all “likely” woman of 40 and her two babies selling for $3000.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 158-9