Clotelle; or The Colored Heroine......................................................................................................................1

William Wells Brown..............................................................................................................................1

FOR many years the South has been noted for its beautiful Quadroon women. Bottles of ink, and reams of

paper, have been used to portray the "finelycut and wellmoulded features," the "silken curls," the "dark and

brilliant eyes," the "splendid forms," the "fascinating smiles," and "accomplished manners" of these

impassioned and voluptuous daughters of the two races,the unlawful product of the crime of human

bondage. When we take into consideration the fact that no safeguard was ever thrown around virtue, and no

inducement held out to slavewomen to be pure and chaste, we will not be surprised when told that

immorality pervades the domestic circle in the cities and towns of the South to an extent unknown in the

Northern States. Many a planter's wife has dragged out a miserable existence, with an aching heart, at seeing

her place in the husband's affections usurped by the unadorned beauty and captivating smiles of her

waitingmaid. Indeed, the greater portion of the colored women, in the days of slavery, had no greater

aspiration than that of becoming the finelydressed mistress of some white man. At the negro balls and

parties, that used to be so frequently given, this class of women generally made the most splendid

A few years ago, among the many slavewomen of Richmond, Va., who hired their time of their masters,

was Agnes, a mulatto owned by John Graves, Esq., and who might be heard boasting that she was the

daughter of an American Senator. Although nearly forty years of age at the time of which we write, Agnes

was still exceedingly handsome. More than half white, with long black hair and deep blue eyes, no one felt

like disputing with her when she urged her claim to her relationship with the AngloSaxon. In her younger

days, Agnes had been a housekeeper for a young slaveholder, and in sustaining this relation had become the

mother of two daughters. After being cast aside by this young man, the slavewoman betook herself to the

business of a laundress, and was considered to be the most tasteful woman in Richmond at her vocation.

Isabella and Marion, the two daughters of Agnes, resided with their mother, and gave her what aid they could

in her business. The mother, however, was very choice of her daughters, and would allow them to perform no

labor that would militate against their ladylike appearance. Agnes early resolved to bring up her daughters

As the girls grew older, the mother had to pay a stipulated price for them per month. Her notoriety as a

laundress of the first class enabled her to put an extra charge upon the linen that passed through her hands;

and although she imposed little or no work upon her daughters, she was enabled to live in comparative luxury

and have her daughters dressed to attract attention, especially at the negro balls and parties.

Although the term "negro ball" is applied to these gatherings, yet a large portion of the men who attend them

are whites. Negro balls and parties in the Southern States, especially in the cities and towns, are usually made

up of quadroon women, a few negro men, and any number of white gentlemen. These are gatherings of the

most democratic character. Bankers, merchants, lawyers, doctors, and their clerks and students, all take part

in these social assemblies upon terms of perfect equality. The father and son not unfrequently meet and dance

It was at one of these parties that Henry Linwood, the son of a wealthy and retired gentleman of Richmond,

was first introduced to Isabella, the oldest daughter of Agnes. The young man had just returned from Harvard

College, where he had spent the previous five years. Isabella was in her eighteenth year, and was admitted by

all who knew her to be the handsomest girl, colored or white, in the city. On this occasion, she was attired in

a skyblue silk dress, with deep black lace flounces, and bertha of the same. On her wellmoulded arms she

wore massive gold bracelets, while her rich black hair was arranged at the back in broad basket plaits,

ornamented with pearls, and the front in the French style (*a la Imperatrice*), which suited her classic face to

Henry Linwood paid great attention to Isabella, which was looked upon with gratification by her mother, and

became a matter of general conversation with all present. Of course, the young man escorted the beautiful

quadroon home that evening, and became the favorite visitor at the house of Agnes.

It was on a beautiful moonlight night in the month of August, when all who reside in tropical climates are

eagerly gasping for a breath of fresh air, that Henry Linwood was in the garden which surrounded Agnes'

cottage, with the young quadroon at his side. He drew from his pocket a newspaper wet from the press, and

NOTICE.Seventynine negroes will be offered for sale on Monday, September 10, at 12 o'clock, being the

entire stock of the late John Graves. The negroes are in excellent condition, and all warranted against the

common vices. Among them are several mechanics, ablebodied fieldhands, ploughboys, and women with

children, some of them very prolific, affording a rare opportunity for any one who wishes to raise a strong

and healthy lot of servants for their own use. Also several mulatto girls of rare personal qualities, two of

Among the above slaves advertised for sale were Agnes and her two daughters. Ere young Linwood left the

quadroon that evening, he promised her that he would become her purchaser, and make her free and her own

Mr. Graves had long been considered not only an excellent and upright citizen of the first standing among the

whites, but even the slaves regarded him as one of the kindest of masters. Having inherited his slaves with the

rest of his property, he became possessed of them without any consultation or wish of his own. He would

neither buy nor sell slaves, and was exceedingly careful, in letting them out, that they did not find oppressive

and tyrannical masters. No slave speculator ever dared to cross the threshold of this planter of the Old

Dominion. He was a constant attendant upon religious worship, and was noted for his general benevolence.

The American Bible Society, the American Tract Society, and the cause of the Foreign Missions, found in

him a liberal friend. He was always anxious that his slaves should appear well on the Sabbath, and have an

AS might have been expected, the day of sale brought an unusually large number together to compete for the

property to be sold. Farmers, who make a business of raising slaves for the market, were there, and

slavetraders, who make a business of buying human beings in the slaveraising States and taking them to

the far South, were also in attendance. Men and women, too, who wished to purchase for their own use, had

In the midst of the throng was one who felt a deeper interest in the result of the sale than any other of the

bystanders. This was young Linwood. True to his promise, he was there with a blank bankcheck in his

pocket, awaiting with impatience to enter the list as a bidder for the beautiful slave.

It was indeed a heartrending scene to witness the lamentations of these slaves, all of whom had grown up

together on the old homestead of Mr. Graves, and who had been treated with great kindness by that

gentleman, during his life. Now they were to be separated, and form new relations and companions. Such is

the precarious condition of the slave. Even when with a good master, there is not certainty of his happiness in

The less valuable slaves were first placed upon the auctionblock, one after another, and sold to the highest

bidder. Husbands and wives were separated with a degree of indifference that is unknown in any other

relation in life. Brothers and sisters were torn from each other, and mothers saw their children for the last

It was late in the day, and when the greatest number of persons were thought to be present, when Agnes and

her daughters were brought out to the place of sale. The mother was first put upon the auctionblock, and

sold to a noted negro trader named Jennings. Marion was next ordered to ascend the stand, which she did

All eyes were now turned on Isabella, as she was led forward by the auctioneer. The appearance of the

handsome quadroon caused a deep sensation among the crowd. There she stood, with a skin as fair as most

white women, her features as beautifully regular as any of her sex of pure AngloSaxon blood, her long black

hair done up in the neatest manner, her form tall and graceful, and her whole appearance indicating one

The auctioneer commenced by saying that Miss Isabella was fit to deck the drawingroom of the finest

"How much, gentlemen, for this real Albino!fit fancygirl for any one! She enjoys good health, and has a

"Only five hundred for such a girl as this? Gentlemen, she is worth a deal more than that sum. You certainly

do not know the value of the article you are bidding on. Here, gentlemen, I hold in my hand a paper certifying

"Ah, gentlemen, that is something life. This paper also states that she is very intelligent."

"She was first sprinkled, then immersed, and is now warranted to be a devoted Christian, and perfectly

Here the bidding came to a dead stand. The auctioneer stopped, looked around, and began in a rough manner

to relate some anecdote connected with the sale of slaves, which he said had come under his own observation.

At this juncture the scene was indeed a most striking one. The laughing, joking, swearing, smoking, spitting,

and talking, kept up a continual hum and confusion among the crowd, while the slavegirl stood with tearful

eyes, looking alternately at her mother and sister and toward the young man whom she hoped would become

"The chastity of this girl," now continued the auctioneer, "is pure. She has never been from under her

The bids here took a fresh start, and went on until $1800 was reached. The auctioneer once more resorted to

his jokes, and concluded by assuring the company that Isabella was not only pious, but that she could make

This was the last bid, and the quadroon girl was struck off, and became the property of Henry Linwood.

This was a Virginia slaveauction, at which the bones, sinews, blood, and nerves of a young girl of eighteen

were sold for $500; her moral character for $200; her superior intellect for $100; the benefits supposed to

accrue from her having been sprinkled and immersed, together with a warranty of her devoted Christianity,

for $300; her ability to make a good prayer for $200; and her chastity for $700 more. This, too, in a city

thronged with churches, whose tall spires look like so many signals pointing to heaven, but whose ministers

The slaves were speedily separated, and taken along by their respective masters. Jennings, the

slavespeculator, who had purchased Agnes and her daughter Marion, with several of the other slaves, took

them to the county prison, where he usually kept his human cattle after purchasing them, previous to starting

Linwood had already provided a place for Isabella, to which she was taken. The most trying moment for her

was when she took leave of her mother and sister. The "Goodby" of the slave is unlike that of any other

class in the community. It is indeed a farewell forever. With tears streaming down their cheeks, they

embraced and commended each other to God, who is no respecter of persons, and before whom master and

DICK JENNINGS the slavespeculator, was one of the few Northern men, who go to the South and throw

aside their honest mode of obtaining a living and resort to trading in human beings. A more

repulsivelooking person could scarcely be found in any community of bad looking men. Tall, lean and lank,

with high cheekbones, face much pitted with the smallpox, gray eyes with red eyebrows, and sandy

whiskers, he indeed stood alone without mate or fellow in looks. Jennings prided himself upon what he called

his goodness of heat, and was always speaking of his humanity. As many of the slaves whom he intended

taking to the New Orleans market had been raised in Richmond, and had relations there, he determined to

leave the city early in the morning, so as not to witness any of the scenes so common on the departure of a

slavegang to the far South. In this, he was most successful; for not even Isabella, who had called at the

prison several times to see her mother and sister, was aware of the time that they were to leave.

The slavetrader started at early dawn, and was beyond the confines of the city long before the citizens were

out of their beds. As a slave regards a life on the sugar, cotton, or rice plantation as even worse than death,

they are ever on the watch for an opportunity to escape. The trader, aware of this, secures his victims in

chains before he sets out on his journey. On this occasion, Jennings had the men chained in pairs, while the

After a march of eight days, the company arrived on the banks of the Ohio River, where they took a steamer

for the place of their destination. Jennings had already advertised in the New Orleans papers, that he would

be there with a prime lot of ablebodied slaves, men and women, fit for fieldservice, with a few extra ones

calculated for houseservants,all between the ages of fifteen and twentyfive years; but like most men

who make a business of speculating in human beings, he often bought many who were far advanced in years,

and would try to pass them off for five or six years younger than they were. Few persons can arrive at

anything approaching the real age of the negro, by mere observation, unless they are well acquainted with the

race. Therefore, the slavetrader frequently carried out the deception with perfect impunity.

After the steamer had left the wharf and was fairly out on the bosom of the broad Mississippi, the speculator

called his servant Pompey to him; and instructed him as to getting the negroes ready for market. Among the

forty slaves that the trader had on this occasion, were some whose appearance indicated that they had seen

some years and had gone through considerable service. Their gray hair and whiskers at once pronounced

them to be above the ages set down in the trader's advertisement. Pompey had long been with Jennings, and

understood his business well, and if he did not take delight in the discharge of his duty, he did it at least with

Pomp, as he was usually called by the trader, was of real negro blood, and would often say, when alluding to

himself, "Dis nigger am no counterfeit, he is de ginuine artikle. Dis chile is none of your hafandhaf, dere is

Pompey was of low stature, round face, and, like most of his race, had a set of teeth, which, for whiteness and

beauty, could not be surpassed; his eyes were large, lips thick, and hair short and woolly. Pompey had been

with Jennings so long, and had seen so much of buying and selling of his fellowcreatures, that he appeared

perfectly indifferent to the heartrending scenes which daily occurred in his presence. Such is the force of

"Vice is a monster of such frightful mien, That to be hated, needs but to be seen; But seen too oft, familiar

It was on the second day of the steamer's voyage, that Pompey selected five of the oldest slaves, took them

"Now," said he, addressing himself to the company, "I is de chap dat is to get you ready for de Orleans

market, so dat you will bring marser a good price. How old is you?" addressing himself to a man not less than

"If I live to see next sweetpotatodigging time, I shall be either forty or fortyfive, I don't know which."

"Dat may be," replied Pompey; "but now you is only thirty years old, dat's what marser says you is to be."

"I can't help nuffin' about dat," returned Pompey; "but when you get into de market and any one ax you how

old you is, and you tell um you is forty or fortyfive, marser will tie you up and cut you all to pieces. But if

you tell um dat you is only thirty, den he won't. Now remember dat you is thirty years old and no more."

"Den you must have all them gray whiskers shaved off, and all dem gray hairs plucked out of your head."

This was all said by Pompey in a manner which showed that he knew what he was about.

"How old is you?" asked Pompey of a tall, stronglooking man. "What's your name?"

"Well, Toby, or Mr. Tobias, if dat will suit you better, you are now twentythree years old; dat's all,do you

Pompey now gave them all to understand how old they were to be when asked by persons who were likely to

purchase, and then went and reported to his master that the old boys were all right.

"Be sure," said Jennings, "that the niggers don't forget what you have taught them, for our luck this time in

the market depends upon their appearance. If any of them have so many gray hairs that you cannot pluck

AT eight o'clock, on the evening of the third day of the passage, the lights of another steamer were seen in the

distance, and apparently coming up very fast. This was the signal for a general commotion on board the

Patriot, and everything indicated that a steamboatrace was at hand. Nothing can exceed the excitement

By the time the boats had reached Memphis they were side by side, and each exerting itself to get in advance

of the other. The night was clear, the moon shining brightly, and the boats so near to each other that the

passengers were within speaking distance. On board the Patriot the firemen were using oil, lard, butter, and

even bacon, with wood, for the purpose of raising the steam to its highest pitch. The blaze mingled with the

black smoke that issued from the pipes of the other boat, which showed that she also was burning something

The firemen of both boats, who were slaves, were singing songs such as can only be heard on board a

Southern steamer. The boats now came abreast of each other, and nearer and nearer, until they were locked so

that men could pass from one to the other. The wildest excitement prevailed among the men employed on the

The Patriot now stopped to take in passengers, but still no steam was permitted to escape. On the starting of

the boat again, cold water was forced into the boilers by the feedpumps, and, as might have been expected,

one of the boilers exploded with terrific force, carrying away the boilerdeck and tearing to pieces much of

the machinery. One dense fog of steam filled every part of the vessel, while shrieks, groans, and cries were

heard on every side. Men were running hither and thither looking for their wives, and women were flying

about in the wildest confusion seeking for their husbands. Dismay appeared on every countenance.

The saloons and cabins soon looked more like hospitals than anything else; but by this time the Patriot had

drifted to the shore, and the other steamer had come alongside to render assistance to the disabled boat. The

killed and wounded (nineteen in number) were put on shore, and the Patriot, taken in tow by the Washington,

It was halfpast twelve, and the passengers, instead of retiring to their berths, once more assembled at the

gamblingtables. The practice of gambling on the western waters has long been a source of annoyance to the

more moral persons who travel on our great rivers. Thousands of dollars often change owners during a

passage from St. Louis or Louisville to New Orleans, on a Mississippi steamer. Many men are completely

"Go call my boy, steward," said Mr. Jones, as he took his cards one by one from the table.

In a few minutes a finelooking, brighteyed mulatto boy, apparently about sixteen years of age, was

"I am broke, all but my boy," said Jones, as he ran his fingers through his cards; "but he is worth a thousand

"I will call you," said Thompson, as he laid five hundred dollars at the feet of the boy, who was standing on

"You have beaten me," said Jones; and a roar of laughter followed from the other gentleman as poor Joe

"Well, I suppose I owe you half the nigger," said Thompson, as he took hold of Joe and began examining his

"Yes," replied Jones, "he is half yours. Let me have five hundred dollars, and I will give you a bill of sale of

"Go back to your bed," said Thompson to his chattel, "and remember that you now belong to me."

The poor slave wiped the tears from his eyes, as, in obedience, he turned to leave the table.

"My father gave me that boy," said Jones, as he took the money, "and I hope, Mr. Thompson, that you will

"Most certainly, sir," replied Thompson. "Whenever you hand over the cool thousand the negro is yours."

Next morning, as the passengers were assembling in the cabin and on deck, and while the slaves were

running about waiting on or looking for their masters, poor Joe was seen entering his new master's stateroom,

"Who do you belong to?" inquired a gentleman of an old negro, who passed along leading a fine

"When I went to sleep las' night," replied the slave, "I 'longed to Massa Carr; but he bin gamblin' all night, an'

Such is the uncertainty of a slave's life. He goes to bed at night the pampered servant of his young master,

with whom he has played in childhood, and who would not see his slave abused under any consideration, and

To behold five or six tables in the saloon of a steamer, with half a dozen men playing cards at each, with

money, pistols, and bowieknives spread in splendid confusion before them, is an ordinary thing on the

ON the fourth morning, the Patriot landed at Grand Gulf, a beautiful town on the left bank of the Mississippi.

Among the numerous passengers who came on board at Rodney was another slavetrader, with nine human

chattels which he was conveying to the Southern market. The passengers, both ladies and gentlemen, were

startled at seeing among the new lot of slaves a woman so white as not to be distinguishable from the other

white women on board. She had in her arms a child so white that no one would suppose a drop of African

No one could behold that mother with her helpless babe, without feeling that God would punish the

oppressor. There she sat, with an expressive and intellectual forehead, and a countenance full of dignity and

heroism, her dark golden locks rolled back from her almost snowwhite forehead and floating over her

swelling bosom. The tears that stood in her mild blue eyes showed that she was brooding over sorrows and

The hearts of the passersby grew softer, while gazing upon that young mother as she pressed sweet kisses

on the sad, smiling lips of the infant that lay in her lap. The small, dimpled hands of the innocent creature

were slyly hid in the warm bosom on which the little one nestled. The blood of some proud Southerner, no

When the boat arrived at Natches, a rather goodlooking, genteelappearing man came on board to purchase

a servant. This individual introduced himself to Jennings as the Rev. James Wilson. The slavetrader

conducted the preacher to the deckcabin, where he kept his slaves, and the man of God, after having some

It seemed as if poor Marion's heart would break when she found that she was to be separated from her

mother. The preacher, however, appeared to be but little moved by their sorrow, and took his

newlypurchased victim on shore. Agnes begged him to buy her daughter, but he refused, on the ground that

After a run of a few hours, the boat stopped at Baton Rouge, where an additional number of passengers were

taken on board, among whom were a number of persons who had been attending the races at that place.

The next morning, at ten o'clock, the boat arrived at new Orleans, where the passengers went to their hotels

Lizzie, the white slavemother, of whom we have already spoken, created as much of a sensation by the

fairness of her complexion and the alabaster whiteness of her child, when being conveyed on shore at New

Orleans, as she had done when brought on board at Grand Gulf. Every one that saw her felt that slavery in the

Southern States was not confined to the negro. Many had been taught to think that slavery was a benefit

rather than an injury, and those who were not opposed to the institution before, now felt that if whites were to

become its victims, it was time at least that some security should be thrown around the AngloSaxon to save

NOT far from Canal Street, in the city of New Orleans, stands a large twostory, flat building, surrounded by

a stone wall some twelve feet high, the top of which is covered with bits of glass, and so constructed as to

prevent even the possibility of any one's passing over it without sustaining great injury. Many of the rooms in

this building resemble the cells of a prison, and in a small apartment near the "office" are to be seen any

number of iron collars, hobbles, handcuffs, thumbscrews, cowhides, chains, gags, and yokes.

A backyard, enclosed by a high wall, looks something like the playground attached to one of our large New

England schools, in which are rows of benches and swings. Attached to the back premises is a goodsized

kitchen, where, at the time of which we write, two old negresses were at work, stewing, boiling, and baking,

The slavetrader, Jennings, on his arrival at New Orleans, took up his quarters here with his gang of human

cattle, and the morning after, at 10 o'clock, they were exhibited for sale. First of all came the beautiful

Marion, whose pale countenance and dejected look told how many sad hours she had passed since parting

with her mother at Natchez. There, too, was a poor woman who had been separated from her husband; and

another woman, whose looks and manners were expressive of deep anguish, sat by her side. There was

"Uncle Jeems," with his whiskers off, his face shaven clean, and the gray hairs plucked out, ready to be sold

for ten years younger than he was. Toby was also there, with his face shaven and greased, ready for

The examination commenced, and was carried on in such a manner as to shock the feelings of any one not

"What are you wiping your eyes for?" inquired a far, redfaced man, with a white hat set on one side of his

"Oh, if I buy you, I will furnish you with a better man than you left. I've got lots of young bucks on my farm."

"What's you name?" asked a man in a straw hat of a tall negro who stood with his arms folded across his

"I am a cottonplanter, and if I buy you, you will have to work in the cottonfield. My men pick one hundred

and fifty pounds a day, and the women one hundred and forty pounds; and those who fail to perform their

task receive five stripes for each pound that is wanting. Now, do you think you could keep up with the rest of

"Why, that makes you thirtythree. I thought you told me you were only twentyfive?"

Aaron now looked first at the planter, then at the trader, and seemed perfectly bewildered. He had forgotten

the lesson given him by Pompey relative to his age; and the planter's circuitous questionsdoubtless to find

"I must see you back, so as to know how much you have been whipped, before I think of buying."

Pompey, who had been standing by during the examination, thought that his services were now required, and,

"Don't you hear de gemman tell you he wants to 'zamin you. Cum, unharness yo'seff, ole boy, and don't be

Aaron was soon examined, and pronounced "sound;" yet the conflicting statement about his age was not

Fortunately for Marion, she was spared the pain of undergoing such an examination. Mr. Cardney, a teller in

one of the banks, had just been married, and wanted a maidservant for his wife, and, passing through the

market in the early part of the day, was pleased with the young slave's appearance, and his dwelling the

quadroon found a much better home than often falls to the lot of a slave sold in the New Orleans market.

THE Rev. James Wilson was a native of the State of Connecticut, where he was educated for the ministry in

the Methodist persuasion. His father was a strict follower of John Wesley, and spared no pains in his son's

education, with the hope that he would one day be as renowned as the leader of his sect. James had scarcely

finished his education at New Haven, when he was invited by an uncle, then on a visit to his father, to spend a

few months at Natchez in Mississippi. Young Wilson accepted his uncle's invitation, and accompanied him to

the South. Few young men, and especially clergymen, going fresh from college to the South, but are looked

upon as geniuses in a small way, and who are not invited to all the parties in the neighborhood. Mr. Wilson

was not an exception to this rule. The society into which he was thrown, on his arrival at Natchez, was too

brilliant for him not to be captivated by it, and, as might have been expected, he succeeded in captivating a

plantation with seventy slaves if not the heart of the lady to whom it belonged.

Added to this, he became a popular preacher, and had a large congregation with a snug salary. Like other

planters, Mr. Wilson confided the care of his farm to Ned Huckelby, an overseer of high reputation in his

The Poplar Farm, as it was called, was situated in a beautiful valley, nine miles from Natchez, and near the

Mississippi River. The once unshorn face of nature had given way, and the farm now blossomed with a

splendid harvest. The neat cottage stood in a grove, where Lombardy poplars lift their tops almost to prop the

skies, where the willow, locust, and horsechestnut trees spread forth their branches, and flowers never

This was the parson's country residence, where the family spent only two months during the year. His town

residence was a fine villa, seated on the brow of a hill, at the edge of the city.

It was in the kitchen of this house that Agnes found her new home. Mr. Wilson was every inch a democrat,

and early resolved that "his people," as he called his slaves, should be wellfed and not overworked, and

therefore laid down the law and gospel to the overseer as well as to the slaves. "It is my wish," said he to Mr.

Carlingham, an old schoolfellow who was spending a few days with him,"It is my wish that a new

system be adopted on the plantations in this State. I believe that the sons of Ham should have the gospel, and

I intend that mine shall have it. The gospel is calculated to make mankind better and none should be without

"Now, Carlingham, you have begun to harp again about men's rights. I really wish that you could see this

"I regret that I cannot see eye to eye with you," said Carlingham. "I am a disciple of Rousseau, and have for

years made the rights of man my study, and I must confess to you that I see no difference between white and

"Now, my dear Carlingham, would you really have the negroes enjoy the same rights as ourselves?"

"I would most certainly. Look at our great Declaration of Independence! look even at the Constitution of our

own Connecticut, and see what is said in these about liberty." "I regard all this talk about rights as mere

humbug. The Bible is older than the Declaration of Independence, and there I take my stand."

A long discussion followed, in which both gentlemen put forth their peculiar ideas with much warmth of

During this conversation, there was another person in the room, seated by the window, who, although at

work, embroidering a fine collar, paid minute attention to what was said. This was Georgiana, the only

daughter of the parson, who had but just returned from Connecticut, where she had finished her education.

She had had the opportunity of contrasting the spirit of Christianity and liberty in New England with that of

slavery in her native State, and had learned to feel deeply for the injured negro.

Georgiana was in her nineteenth year, and had been much benefited by her residence of five years at the

North. Her form was tall and graceful, her features regular and welldefined, and her complexion was

The daughter differed from both the father and visitor upon the subject which they had been discussing; and

as soon as an opportunity offered, she gave it as her opinion that the Bible was both the bulwark of

"Of course, papa will overlook my difference with him, for although I am a native of the South, I am by

Mr. Wilson laughed, appearing rather pleased than otherwise at the manner in which his daughter had

"'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' This single passage of Scripture should cause us to have respect for

the rights of the slave. True Christian love is of an enlarged and disinterested nature. It loves all who love the

"Georgiana, my dear, you are an abolitionist,your talk is fanaticism!" said Mr. Wilson, in rather a sharp

tone; but the subdued look of the girl and the presence of Carlingham caused him to soften his language.

Mr. Wilson having lost his wife by consumption, and Georgiana being his only child, he loved her too dearly

to say more, even if he felt disposed. A silence followed this exhortation from the young Christian, but her

remarks had done a noble work. The father's heart was touched, and the sceptic, for the first time, was

BESIDES Agnes, whom Mr. Wilson had purchased from the slavetrader, Jennings, he kept a number of

houseservants. The chief one of these was Sam, who must be regarded as second only to the parson himself.

If a dinnerparty was in contemplation, or any company was to be invited, after all the arrangements had

been talked over by the minister and his daughter, Sam was sure to be consulted on the subject by "Miss

Georgy," as Miss Wilson was called by all the servants. If furniture, crockery, or anything was to be

purchased, Sam felt that he had been slighted if his opinion was not asked. As to the marketing, he did it all.

He sat at the head of the servants' table in the kitchen, and was master of the ceremonies. A single look from

him was enough to silence any conversation or noise among the servants in the kitchen or in any other part of

There is in the Southern States a great amount of prejudice in regard to color, even among the negroes

themselves. The nearer the negro or mulatto approaches to the white, the more he seems to feel his

superiority over those of a darker hue. This is no doubt the result of the prejudice that exists on the part of the

Sam was originally from Kentucky, and through the instrumentality of one of his young masters, whom he

had to take to school, he had learned to read so as to be well understood, and, owing to that fact, was

considered a prodigy, not only among his own master's slaves, but also among those of the town who knew

him. Sam had a great wish to follow in the footsteps of his master and be a poet, and was therefore often

But there was one drawback to Sam, and that was his color. He was one of the blackest of his race. This he

evidently regarded as a great misfortune; but he endeavored to make up for it in dress. Mr. Wilson kept his

houseservants well dressed, and as for Sam, he was seldom seen except in a ruffled shirt. Indeed, the

Agnes had been inaugurated chief of the kitchen department, and had a general supervision of the household

affairs. Alfred, the coachman, Peter, and Hetty made up the remainder of the houseservants. Besides these,

Mr. Wilson owned eight slaves who were masons. These worked in the city. Being mechanics, they were let

Every Sunday evening, Mr. Wilson's servants, including the bricklayers, assembled in the kitchen, where

the events of the week were fully discussed and commented upon. It was on a Sunday evening, in the month

of June, that there was a party at Mr. Wilson's house, and, according to custom in the Southern States, the

ladies had their maidservants with them. Tea had been served in "the house," and the servants, including the

strangers, had taken their seats at the table in the kitchen. Sam, being a "single gentleman," was unusually

attentive to the "ladies" on this occasion. He seldom let a day pass without spending an hour or two in

combing and brushing his "har." He had an idea that fresh butter was better for his hair than any other kind of

grease, and therefore on churning days half a pound of butter had always to be taken out before it was salted.

When he wished to appear to great advantage, he would grease his face to make it "shiny." Therefore, on the

evening of the party, when all the servants were at the table, Sam cut a big figure. There he sat, with his wool

well combed and buttered, face nicely greased, and his ruffles extending five or six inches from his bosom.

The parson in his drawingroom did not make a more imposing appearance than did his servant on this

"I jis bin had my fortune tole last Sunday night," said Sam, while helping one of the girls.

"Yes," continued he; "Aunt Winny tole me I's to hab de prettiest yallah gal in de town, and dat I's to be free!"

"Pass dem pancakes an' 'lasses up dis way, Mr. Alf., and none ob your 'sinuwashuns here," rejoined Sam.

"I should tink dat gal wouldn't frow herseff away in dat ar way," said Sally. "She's good lookin' 'nough to git

"Yes," said Sam, "dat's a werry unsensible remark ob yourn, Miss Sally. I admires your judgment werry

much, I 'sures you. Dar's plenty ob susceptible an' welldressed houseserbants dat a gal ob her looks can git

The evening's entertainment concluded by Sam's relating a little of his own experience while with his first

master, in old Kentucky. This master was a doctor, and had a large practice among his neighbors, doctoring

both masters and slaves. When Sam was about fifteen years old, his master set him to grinding up ointment

and making pills. As the young student grew older and became more practised in his profession, his services

were of more importance to the doctor. The physician having a good business, and a large number of his

patients being slaves, the most of whom had to call on the doctor when ill,he put Sam to bleeding,

pulling teeth, and administering medicine to the slaves. Sam soon acquired the name among the slaves of the

"Black Doctor." With this appellation he was delighted; and no regular physician could have put on more airs

than did the black doctor when his services were required. In bleeding, he must have more bandages, and

Sam was once seen taking out a tooth for one of his patients, and nothing appeared more amusing. He got the

poor fellow down on his back, and then getting astride of his chest, he applied the turnkeys and pulled away

for dear life. Unfortunately, he had got hold of the wrong tooth, and the poor man screamed as loud as he

could; but it was to no purpose, for Sam had him fast, and after a pretty severe tussle out came the sound

grinder. The young doctor now saw his mistake, but consoled himself with the thought that as the wrong

Bleeding and a dose of calomel were always considered indispensable by the "old boss," and as a matter of

On one occasion the old doctor was ill himself, so as to be unable to attend to his patients. A slave, with pass

in hand, called to receive medical advice, and the master told Sam to examine him and see what he wanted.

This delighted him beyond measure, for although he had been acting his part in the way of giving out

medicine as the master ordered it, he had never been called upon by the latter to examine a patient, and this

seemed to convince him after all that he was no sham doctor. As might have been expected, he cut a rare

figure in his first examination. Placing himself directly opposite his patient, and folding his arms across his

"Let me feel your pulse;" at the same time taking his patient's hand in his, and placing his fingers upon his

"Ah! your case is a bad one; ef I don't do something for you, and dat pretty quick, you'll be a gone coon, and

dat's sartin." At this the man appeared frightened, and inquired what was the matter with him, in answer to

On one occasion, when making pills and ointment, Sam made a great mistake. He got the preparations for

both mixed together, so that he could not legitimately make either. But fearing that if he threw the stuff away,

his master would flog him, and being afraid to inform his superior of the mistake, he resolved to make the

whole batch of pill and ointment stuff into pills. He well knew that the powder over the pills would hide the

inside, and the fact that most persons shut their eyes when taking such medicine led the young doctor to feel

that all would be right in the end. Therefore Sam made his pills, boxed them up, put on the labels, and placed

Sam felt a degree of anxiety about his pills, however. It was a strange mixture, and he was not certain

whether it would kill or cure; but he was willing that it should be tried. At last the young doctor had his

vanity gratified. Col. Tallen, one of Dr. Saxondale's patients, drove up one morning, and Sam as usual ran out

The doctor was soon beside the carriage, and inquired about the health of his patient. After a little

consultation, the doctor returned to his office, took down a box of Sam's new pills, and returned to the

"Take two of these every morning and night," said the doctor, "and if you don't feel relieved, double the

"Good gracious," exclaimed Sam in an undertone, when he heard his master tell the colonel how to take the

It was several days before Sam could learn the result of his new medicine. One afternoon, about a fortnight

after the colonel's visit, Sam saw his master's patient riding up to the gate on horseback. The doctor happened

"I am entirely recovered," replied the patient. "Those pills of yours put me on my feet the next day."

Sam was near enough to hear the conversation, and was delighted beyond description. The negro immediately

"I is de greatest doctor in his country," replied Sam. "Ef you ever get sick, call on me. No matter what ails

you, I is de man dat can cure you in no time. If you do hab de backache, de rheumatics, de headache, de

coller morbus, fits, er any ting else, Sam is de gentleman dat can put you on your feet wid his pills."

We have said that the "black doctor" was full of wit and good sense. Indeed, in that respect, he had scarcely

an equal in the neighborhood. Although his master resided some little distance out of the city, Sam was

always the first man in all the negro balls and parties in town. When his master could give him a pass, he

went, and when he did not give him one, he would steal away after his master had retired, and run the risk of

being taken up by the nightwatch. Of course, the master never knew anything of the absence of the servant

at night without permission. As the negroes at these parties tried to excel each other in the way of dress, Sam

was often at a loss to make that appearance that his heart desired, but his ready wit ever helped him in this.

When his master had retired to bed at night, it was the duty of Sam to put out the lights, and take out with him

his master's clothes and boots, and leave them in the office until morning, and then black the boots, brush the

Having resolved to attend a dressball one night, without his master's permission, and being perplexed for

suitable garments, Sam determined to take his master's. So, dressing himself in the doctor's clothes, even to

his boots and hat, off the negro started for the city. Being well acquainted with the usual walk of the patrols

he found no difficulty in keeping out of their way. As might have been expected, Sam was the great gun with

The next morning, Sam was back home long before his master's time for rising, and the clothes were put in

their accustomed place. For a long time Sam had no difficulty in attiring himself for parties; but the old

proverb that "It is a long lane that has no turning," was verified in the negro's case. One stormy night, when

the rain was descending in torrents, the doctor heard a rap at his door. It was customary with him, when

called up at night to visit a patient, to ring for Sam. But this time, the servant was nowhere to be found. The

doctor struck a light and looked for clothes; they, too, were gone. It was twelve o'clock, and the doctor's

clothes, hat, boots, and even his watch, were nowhere to be found. Here was a pretty dilemma for a doctor to

be in. It was some time before the physician could fit himself out so as to make the visit. At last, however, he

started with one of the farmhorses, for Sam had taken the doctor's best saddlehorse. The doctor felt sure

that the negro had robbed him, and was on his way to Canada; but in this he was mistaken. Sam had gone to

the city to attend a ball, and had decked himself out in his master's best suit. The physician returned before

morning, and again retired to bed but with little hope of sleep, for his thoughts were with his servant and

horse. At six o'clock, in walked Sam with his master's clothes, and the boots neatly blacked. The watch was

placed on the shelf, and the hat in its place. Sam had not met any of the servants, and was therefore entirely

"What have you been about, sir, and where was you last night when I was called?" asked the doctor.

But the doctor was not to be so easily satisfied, after having been put to so much trouble in hunting up

another suit without the aid of Sam. After breakfast, Sam was taken into the barn, tied up, and severely

flogged with the cat, which brought from him the truth concerning his absence the previous night. This

forever put an end to his fine appearance at the negro parties. Had not the doctor been one of the most

As a matter of course, Sam had to relate to his companions that evening in Mr. Wilson's kitchen all his

AUGUSTINE CARDINAY, the purchaser of Marion, was from the Green Mountains of Vermont, and his

feelings were opposed to the holding of slaves; but his young wife persuaded him into the idea that it was no

worse to own a slave than to hire one and pay the money to another. Hence it was that he had been induced to

Adolphus Morton, a young physician from the same State, and who had just commenced the practice of his

profession in New Orleans, was boarding with Cardinay when Marion was brought home. The young

physician had been in New Orleans but a very few weeks, and had seen but little of slavery. In his own

mountainhome, he had been taught that the slaves of the Southern States were negroes, and if not from the

coast of Africa, the descendants of those who had been imported. He was unprepared to behold with

composure a beautiful white girl of sixteen in the degraded position of a chattel slave.

The blood chilled in his young heart as he heard Cardinay tell how, by bantering with the trader, he had

bought her two hundred dollars less than he first asked. His very looks showed that she had the deepest

Marion had been brought up by her mother to look after the domestic concerns of her cottage in Virginia, and

well knew how to perform the duties imposed upon her. Mrs. Cardinay was much pleased with her new

After eight months acquaintance with Marion, Morton's sympathies ripened into love, which was most

cordially reciprocated by the friendless and injured child of sorrow. There was but one course which the

young man could honorably pursue, and that was to purchase Marion and make her his lawful wife; and this

he did immediately, for he found Mr. and Mrs. Cardinay willing to second his liberal intentions.

The young man, after purchasing Marion from Cardinay, and marrying her, took lodgings in another part of

the city. A private teacher was called in, and the young wife was taught some of those accomplishments so

Dr. Morton soon obtained a large and influential practice in his profession, and with it increased in wealth;

but with all his wealth he never owned a slave. Probably the fact that he had raised his wife from that

condition kept the hydraheaded system continually before him. To the credit of Marion be it said, she used

every means to obtain the freedom of her mother, who had been sold to Parson Wilson, at Natchez. Her

efforts, however, had come too late; for Agnes had died of a fever before the arrival of Dr. Morton's agent.

Marion found in Adolphus Morton a kind and affectionate husband; and his wish to purchase her mother,

although unsuccessful, had doubly endeared him to her. Ere a year had elapsed from the time of their

marriage, Mrs. Morton presented her husband with a lovely daughter, who seemed to knit their hearts still

closer together. This child they named Jane; and before the expiration of the second year, they were blessed

These children grew up to the ages of ten and eleven, and were then sent to the North to finish their

education, and receive that refinement which young ladies cannot obtain in the Slave States.

A FEW miles out of Richmond is a pleasant place, with here and there a beautiful cottage surrounded by trees

so as scarcely to be seen. Among these was one far retired from the public roads, and almost hidden among

the trees. This was the spot that Henry Linwood had selected for Isabella, the eldest daughter of Agnes. The

young man hired the house, furnished it, and placed his mistress there, and for many months no one in his

When Henry was not with her, Isabella employed herself in looking after her little garden and the flowers that

grew in front of her cottage. The passionflower, peony, dahlia, laburnum, and other plants, so abundant in

warm climates, under the tasteful hand of Isabella, lavished their beauty upon this retired spot, and miniature

Although Isabella had been assured by Henry that she should be free and that he would always consider her

as his wife, she nevertheless felt that she ought to be married and acknowledged by him. But this was an

impossibility under the State laws, even had the young man been disposed to do what was right in the matter.

Related as he was, however, to one of the first families in Virginia, he would not have dared to marry a

Here, in this secluded grove, unvisited by any other except her lover, Isabella lived for years. She had become

the mother of a lovely daughter, which its father named Clotelle. The complexion of the child was still fairer

than that of its mother. Indeed, she was not darker than other white children, and as she grew older she more

As time passed away, Henry became negligent of Isabella and his child, so much so, that days and even

weeks passed without their seeing him, or knowing where he was. Becoming more acquainted with the world,

and moving continually in the society of young women of his own station, the young man felt that Isabella

was a burden to him, and having as some would say, "outgrown his love," he longed to free himself of the

responsibility; yet every time he saw the child, he felt that he owed it his fatherly care.

Henry had now entered into political life, and been elected to a seat in the legislature of his native State; and

in his intercourse with his friends had become acquainted with Gertrude Miller, the daughter of a wealthy

gentleman living near Richmond. Both Henry and Gertrude were very goodlooking, and a mutual

Instead of finding fault with the unfrequent visits of Henry, Isabella always met him with a smile, and tried to

make both him and herself believe that business was the cause of his negligence. When he was with her, she

devoted every moment of her time to him, and never failed to speak of the growth and increasing intelligence

The child had grown so large as to be able to follow its father on his departure out to the road. But the

impression made on Henry's feelings by the devoted woman and her child was momentary. His heart had

grown hard, and his acts were guided by no fixed principle. Henry and Gertrude had been married nearly two

years before Isabella knew anything of the event, and it was merely by accident that she became acquainted

One beautiful afternoon, when Isabella and Clotelle were picking wild strawberries some two miles from

their home, and near the roadside, they observed a onehorse chaise driving past. The mother turned her

face from the carriage not wishing to be seen by strangers, little dreaming that the chaise contained Henry and

his wife. The child, however, watched the chaise, and startled her mother by screaming out at the top of her

voice, "Papa! papa!" and clapped her little hands for joy. The mother turned in haste to look at the strangers,

and her eyes encountered those of Henry's pale and dejected countenance. Gertrude's eyes were on the child.

The swiftness with which Henry drove by could not hide from his wife the striking resemblance of the child

to himself. The young wife had heard the child exclaim "Papa! papa!" and she immediately saw by the

quivering of his lips and the agitation depicted in his countenance, that all was not right.

"Who is that woman? and why did that child call you papa?" she inquired, with a trembling voice.

Henry was silent; he knew not what to say, and without another word passing between them, they drove

On reaching her room, Gertrude buried her face in her handkerchief and wept. She loved Henry, and when

she had heard from the lips of her companions how their husbands had proved false, she felt that he was an

When Gertrude retired to her bed that night, the sad scene of the day followed her. The beauty of Isabella,

with her flowing curls, and the look of the child, so much resembling the man whom she so dearly loved,

could not be forgotten; and little Clotelle's exclamation of "Papa! papa!" rang in her ears during the whole

The return of Henry at twelve o'clock did not increase her happiness. Feeling his guilt, he had absented

THE night was dark, the rain descended in torrents from the black and overhanging clouds, and the thunder,

accompanied with vivid flashes of lightning, resounded fearfully, as Henry Linwood stepped from his chaise

More than a fortnight had elapsed since the accidental meeting, and Isabella was in doubt as to who the lady

was that Henry was with in the carriage. Little, however, did she think that it was his wife. With a smile,

Isabella met the young man as he entered her little dwelling. Clotelle had already gone to bed, but her father's

The pale and agitated countenance of Henry betrayed his uneasiness, but Isabella's mild and laughing allusion

to the incident of their meeting him on the day of his pleasuredrive, and her saying, "I presume, dear Henry,

that the lady was one of your relatives," led him to believe that she was still in ignorance of his marriage. She

was, in fact, ignorant who the lady was who accompanied the man she loved on that eventful day. He, aware

of this, now acted more like himself, and passed the thing off as a joke. At heart, however, Isabella felt

uneasy, and this uneasiness would at times show itself to the young man. At last, and with a great effort, she

"Now, hear Henry, if I am in the way of your future happiness, say so, and I will release you from any

promises that you have made me. I know there is no law by which I can hold you, and if there was, I would

not resort to it. You are as dear to me as ever, and my thoughts shall always be devoted to you. It would be a

great sacrifice for me to give you up to another, but if it be your desire, as great as the sacrifice is, I will make

Again and again Linwood assured her that no woman possessed his love but her. Oh, what falsehood and

The unabated storm kept Henry from returning home until after the clock had struck two, and as he drew near

his residence he saw his wife standing at the window. Giving his horse in charge of the servant who was

waiting, he entered the house, and found his wife in tears. Although he had never satisfied Gertrude as to who

the quadroon woman and child were, he had kept her comparatively easy by his close attention to her, and by

telling her that she was mistaken in regard to the child's calling him "papa." His absence that night, however,

without any apparent cause, had again aroused the jealousy of Gertrude; but Henry told her that he had been

caught in the rain while out, which prevented his sooner returning, and she, anxious to believe him, received

Somewhat heated with brandy, and wearied with much loss of sleep, Linwood fell into a sound slumber as

soon as he retired. Not so with Gertrude. That faithfulness which has ever distinguished her sex, and the

anxiety with which she watched all his movements, kept the wife awake while the husband slept. His sleep,

though apparently sound, was nevertheless uneasy. Again and again she heard him pronounce the name of

Isabella, and more than once she heard him say, "I am not married; I will never marry while you live." Then

After a sleepless night, Gertrude arose from her couch, resolved that she would reveal the whole matter to her

mother. Mrs. Miller was a woman of little or no feeling, proud, peevish, and passionate, thus making

everybody miserable that came near her; and when she disliked any one, her hatred knew no bounds. This

Gertrude knew; and had she not considered it her duty, she would have kept the secret locked in her own

During the day, Mrs. Linwood visited her mother and told her all that had happened. The mother scolded the

daughter for not having informed her sooner, and immediately determined to find out who the woman and

child were that Gertrude had met on the day of her ride. Three days were spent by Mrs. Miller in this

Four weeks had elapsed, and the storm of the old lady's temper had somewhat subsided, when, one evening,

as she was approaching her daughter's residence, she saw Henry walking in the direction of where the

quadroon was supposed to reside. Being satisfied that the young man had not seen her, the old woman at once

resolved to follow him. Linwood's boots squeaked so loudly that Mrs. Miller had no difficulty in following

After a walk of about two miles, the young man turned into a narrow and unfrequented road, and soon

entered the cottage occupied by Isabella. It was a fine starlight night, and the moon was just rising when they

got to their journey's end. As usual, Isabella met Henry with a smile, and expressed her fears regarding his

Hours passed, and still old Mrs. Miller remained near the house, determined to know who lived there. When

she undertook to ferret out anything, she bent her whole energies to it. As Michael Angelo, who subjected all

things to his pursuit and the idea he had formed of it, painted the crucifixion by the side of a writhing slave

and would have broken up the true cross for pencils, so Mrs. Miller would have entered the sepulchre, if she

The full moon had risen, and was pouring its beams upon surrounding objects as Henry stepped from

Had little Clotelle been awake, she too would have been at the door. As Henry walked to the gate, Isabella

followed with her left hand locked in his. Again he looked at his watch, and said,

"It is more than a year since you staid all night," murmured Isabella, as he folded her convulsively in his

He was nearly out of sight when, with bitter sobs, the quadroon retraced her steps to the door of the cottage.

Clotelle had in the mean time awoke, and now inquired of her mother how long her father had been gone. At

that instant, a knock was heard at the door, and supposing that it was Henry returning for something he had

forgotten, as he frequently did, Isabella flew to let him in. To her amazement, however, a strange woman

"Who are you that comes here at this late hour?" demanded the halffrightened Isabella.

Without making any reply, Mrs. Miller pushed the quadroon aside, and entered the house.

"I am in search of you," thundered the maddened Mrs. Miller; but thinking that her object would be better

served by seeming to be kind, she assumed a different tone of voice, and began talking in a pleasing manner.

In this way, she succeeded in finding out that connection existing between Linwood and Isabella, and after

getting all she could out of the unsuspecting woman, she informed her that the man she so fondly loved had

been married for more than two years. Seized with dizziness, the poor, heartbroken woman fainted and fell

upon the floor. How long she remained there she could not tell; but when she returned to consciousness, the

strange woman was gone, and her child was standing by her side. When she was so far recovered as to regain

her feet, Isabella went to the door, and even into the yard, to see if the old woman was no somewhere about.

As she stood there, the full moon cast its bright rays over her whole person, giving her an angelic appearance

and imparting to her flowing hair a still more golden hue. Suddenly another change came over her features,

and her full red kips trembled as with suppressed emotion. The muscles around her faultless mouth became

convulsed, she gasped for breath, and exclaiming, "Is it possible that man can be so false!" again fainted.

Clotelle stood and bathed her mother's temples with cold water until she once more revived.

Although the laws of Virginia forbid the education of slaves, Agnes had nevertheless employed an old free

negro to teach her two daughters to read and write. After being separated from her mother and sister, Isabella

turned her attention to the subject of Christianity, and received that consolation from the Bible which is never

denied to the children of God. This was now her last hope, for her heart was torn with grief and filled with all

The night passed away, but without sleep to poor Isabella. At the dawn of day, she tried to make herself

believe that the whole of the past night was a dream, and determined to be satisfied with the explanation

WHEN Harry returned home, he found his wife seated at the window, awaiting his approach. Secret grief was

gnawing at her heart. Her sad, pale cheeks and swollen eyes showed too well that agony, far deeper than her

speech portrayed, filled her heart. A dull and deathlike silence prevailed on his entrance. His pale face and

brow, dishevelled hair, and the feeling that he manifested on finding Gertrude still up, told Henry in plainer

words than she could have used that his wife was aware that her love had never been held sacred by him. The

windowblinds were still unclosed, and the fullorbed moon shed her soft refulgence over the unrivalled

scene, and gave it a silvery lustre which sweetly harmonized with the silence of the night. The clock's iron

tongue, in a neighboring belfry, proclaimed the hour of twelve, as the truant and unfaithful husband seated

himself by the side of his devoted and loving wife, and inquired if she was not well.

"I am, dear Henry," replied Gertrude; "but I feat *you* are not. If well in body, I fear you are not at peace in

"Because," she replied, "you are so pale and have such a wild look in your eyes."

Again he protested his innocence, and vowed she was the only woman who had any claim upon his heart. To

behold one thus playing upon the feelings of two lovely women is enough to make us feel that evil must at

Henry and Gertrude had scarcely risen from the breakfasttable next morning ere old Mrs. Miller made her

appearance. She immediately took her daughter aside, and informed her of her previous night's experience,

telling her how she had followed Henry to Isabella's cottage, detailing the interview with the quadroon, and

her late return home alone. The old woman urged her daughter to demand that the quadroon and her child be

at once sold to the negro speculators and taken out of the State, or that Gertrude herself should separate from

"Assert your rights, my dear. Let no one share a heart that justly belongs to you," said Mrs. Miller, with her

eyes flashing fire. "Don't sleep this night, my child, until that wench has been removed from that cottage; and

During these remarks, the old lady was walking up and down the room like a caged lioness. She had learned

from Isabella that she had been purchased by Henry, and the innocence of the injured quadroon caused her to

acknowledge that he was the father of her child. Few women could have taken such a matter in hand and

carried it through with more determination and success than old Mrs. Miller. Completely inured in all the

crimes and atrocities connected with the institution of slavery, she was also aware that, to a greater or less

extent, the slave women shared with their mistress the affections of their master. This caused her to look with

While the old woman was thus lecturing her daughter upon her rights and duties, Henry, unaware of what

was transpiring, had left the house and gone to his office. As soon as the old woman found that he was gone,

"I will venture anything that he is on his way to see that wench again. I'll lay my life on it."

The entrance, however, of little Marcus, or Mark, as he was familiarly called, asking for Massa Linwood's

blue bag, satisfied her that her soninlaw was at his office. Before the old lady returned home, it was agreed

that Gertrude should come to her mother's to tea that evening, and Henry with her, and that Mrs. Miller

should there charge the young husband with inconstancy to her daughter, and demand the removal of

Had Mrs. Miller been of a different character and not surrounded by slavery, she could scarcely have been

unhappy in such a home as hers. Just at the edge of the city, and sheltered by large poplartrees was the old

homestead in which she resided. There was a splendid orchard in the rear of the house, and the old

weatherbeaten sweep, with "the mosscovered bucket" at its end, swung majestically over the deep well.

The garden was scarcely to be equalled. Its grounds were laid out in excellent taste, and rare exotics in the

It was a sweet autumn evening, when the air breathed through the fragrant sheaves of grain, and the setting

sun, with his golden kisses, burnished the rich clusters of purple grapes, that Henry and Gertrude were seen

approaching the house on foot; it was nothing more than a pleasant walk. Oh, how Gertrude's heart beat as

The beautiful parlor, surrounded on all sides with luxury and taste, with the sun creeping through the damask

curtains, added a charm to the scene. It was in this room that Gertrude had been introduced to Henry, and the

pleasant hours that she had spent there with him rushed unbidden on her memory. It was here that, in former

days, her beautiful countenance had made her appearance as fascinating and as lovely as that of Cleopatra's.

Her sweet, musical voice might have been heard in every part of the house, occasionally thrilling you with an

unexpected touch. How changed the scene! Her pale and wasted features could not be lighted up by any

As usual, the servants in the kitchen were in ecstasies at the announcement that "Miss Gerty," as they called

their young mistress, was in the house, for they loved her sincerely. Gertrude had saved them from many a

flogging, by interceding for them, when her mother was in one of her uncontrollable passions. Dinah, the

cook, always expected Miss Gerty to visit the kitchen as soon as she came, and was not a little displeased, on

this occasion, at what she considered her young mistress's neglect. Uncle Tony, too, looked regularly for Miss

Gerty to visit the green house, and congratulate him on his superiority as a gardener.

When tea was over, Mrs. Miller dismissed the servants from the room, then told her soninlaw what she had

witnessed the previous night, and demanded for her daughter that Isabella should be immediately sent out of

the State, and to be sure that the thing would be done, she wanted him to give her the power to make such

disposition of the woman and child as she should think best. Gertrude was Mrs. Miller's only child, and

Henry felt little like displeasing a family upon whose friendship he so much depended, and, no doubt, long

wishing to free himself from Isabella, he at once yielded to the demands of his motherinlaw. Mr. Miller

was a mere cipher about his premises. If any one came on business connected with the farm, he would

invariably say, "Wait till I see my wife," and the wife's opinion was sure to be law in every case. Bankrupt in

character, and debauched in body and mind, with seven mulatto children who claimed him as their father, he

was badly prepared to find fault with his soninlaw. It was settled that Mrs. Miller should use her own

discretion in removing Isabella from her little cottage, and her future disposition. With this understanding

Henry and Gertrude returned home. In the deep recesses of his heart the young man felt that he would like to

see his child and its mother once more; but fearing the wrath of his motherinlaw, he did not dare to gratify

his inclination. He had not the slightest idea of what would become of them; but he well knew that the old

WITH no one but her dear little Clotelle, Isabella passed her weary hours without partaking of either food or

drink, hoping that Henry would soon return, and that the strange meeting with the old woman would be

While seated in her neat little bedroom with her fevered face buried in her handkerchief, the child ran in and

told its mother that a carriage had stopped in front of the house. With a palpitating heart she arose from her

seat and went to the door, hoping that it was Henry; but, to her great consternation, the old lady who had paid

her such an unceremonious visit on the evening that she had last seen Henry, stepped out of the carriage,

Isabella had seen the trader when he purchased her mother and sister, and immediately recognized him. What

could these persons want there? thought she. Without any parleying or word of explanation, the two entered

Clotelle ran to her mother, and clung to her dress as if frightened by the strangers.

"She's a finelooking wench," said the speculator, as he seated himself, unasked, in the rockingchair; "yet I

"None of your insolence to me," bawled out the old woman, at the top of her voice; "if you do, I will give you

In an agony of grief, pale, trembling, and ready to sink to the floor, Isabella was only sustained by the hope

that she would be able to save her child. At last, regaining her selfpossession, she ordered them both to

leave the house. Feeling herself insulted, the old woman seized the tongs that stood by the fireplace, and

raised them to strike the quadroon down; but the slavetrader immediately jumped between the women,

Poor little Clotelle screamed as she saw the strange woman raise the tongs at her mother. With the exception

of old Aunt Nancy, a free colored woman, whom Isabella sometimes employed to work for her, the child had

never before seen a strange face in her mother's dwelling. Fearing that Isabella would offer some resistance,

Mrs. Miller had ordered the overseer of her own farm to follow her; and, just as Jennings had stepped

"Seize that impudent hussy," said Mrs. Miller to the overseer, "and tie her up this minute, that I may teach her

As she spoke, the old woman's eyes rolled, her lips quivered, and she looked like a very fury.

"I will have nothing to do with her, if you whip her, Mrs. Miller," said the slavetrader. "Niggers ain't worth

half so much in the market with their backs newly scarred," continued he, as the overseer commenced his

Clotelle here took her father's walkingstick, which was lying on the back of the sofa where he had left it,

They looked at the child with astonishment; and her extreme you, wonderful beauty, and uncommon courage,

seemed for a moment to shake their purpose. The manner and language of this child were alike beyond her

years, and under other circumstances would have gained for her the approbation of those present.

"You need not call on him, hussy; you will never see him again," said Mrs. Miller.

It was then that she forgot her own situation, thinking only of the man she loved. Never having been called to

endure any kind of abusive treatment, Isabella was not fitted to sustain herself against the brutality of Mrs.

Miller, much less the combined ferociousness of the old woman and the overseer too. Suffice it to say, that

instead of whipping Isabella, Mrs. Miller transferred her to the negrospeculator, who took her immediately

to his slavepen. The unfeeling old woman would not permit Isabella to take more than a single change of

The injured, friendless, and unprotected Isabella fainted as she saw her child struggling to release herself

from the arms of old Mrs. Miller, and as the wretch boxed the poor child's ears.

After leaving directions as to how Isabella's furniture and other effects should be disposed of, Mrs. Miller

took Clotelle into her carriage and drove home. There was not even color enough about the child to make it

Considerable sensation was created in the kitchen among the servants when the carriage drove up, and

"Jes' like Massa Henry fur all de worl'," said Dinah, as she caught a glimpse of the child through the window.

"Wondah whose brat dat ar' dat missis bringin' home wid her?" said Jane, as she put the ice in the pitchers for

The child was white. What should be done to make it look like other negroes, was the question which Mrs.

Miller asked herself. The calloushearted old woman bit her nether lip, as she viewed that child, standing

before her, with her long, dark ringlets clustering over her alabaster brow and neck.

"Take this little nigger and cut her hair close to her head," said the mistress to Jane, as the latter answered the

Clotelle screamed, as she felt the scissors grating over her head, and saw those curls that her mother thought

A roar of laughter burst from the servants, as Jane led the child through the kitchen, with the hair cut so short

The mistress smiled, as the shorn child reentered the room; but there was something more needed. The child

was white, and that was a great objection. However, she hit upon a plan to remedy this which seemed

feasible. The day was excessively warm. Not a single cloud floated over the blue vault of heaven; not a breath

of wind seemed moving, and the earth was parched by the broiling sun. Even the bees had stopped humming,

and the butterflies had hid themselves under the broad leaves of the burdock. Without a morsel of dinner, the

poor child was put in the garden, and set to weeding it, her arms, neck, and head completely bare.

Unaccustomed to toil, Clotelle wept as she exerted herself in pulling up the weeds. Old Dinah, the cook, was

a unfeeling as her mistress, and she was pleased to see the child made to work in the hot sun.

"Dat white nigger'll soon be brack enuff if missis keeps her workin' out dar," she said, as she wiped the

Dinah was the mother of thirteen children, all of whom bad been taken from her when young; and this, no

The burning sun poured its rays on the face of the friendless child until she sank down in the corner of the

"Dat little nigger ain't workin' a bit, missus," said Dinah to Mrs. Miller, as the latter entered the kitchen.

"She's lying in the sun seasoning; she will work the better by and by," replied the mistress.

"Yes, missus," replied Dinah; "I don't like dese merlatter niggers, no how. Dey always want to set dey seff up

for sumfin' big." With this remark the old cook gave one of her coarse laughs, and continued: "Missis

understands human nature, don't she? Ah! if she ain't a whole team and de ole gray mare to boot, den Dinah

Of course, the mistress was out of the kitchen before these last remarks were made.

It was with the deepest humiliation that Henry learned from one of his own slaves the treatment which his

The scorching sun had the desired effect; for in less than a fortnight, Clotelle could scarcely have been

recognized as the same child. Often was she seen to weep, and heard to call on her mother.

Mrs. Miller, when at church on Sabbath, usually, on warm days, took Nancy, one of her servants, in her pew,

and this girl had to fan her mistress during service. Unaccustomed to such a soft and pleasant seat, the servant

would very soon become sleepy and begin to nod. Sometimes she would go fast asleep, which annoyed the

mistress exceedingly. But Mrs. Miller had nimble fingers, and on them sharp nails, and, with an energetic

pinch upon the bare arms of the poor girl, she would arouse the daughter of Africa from her pleasant dreams.

But there was no one of Mrs. Miller's servants who received so much punishment as old Uncle Tony.

Fond of her greenhouse, and often in the garden, she was ever at the old gardener's heels. Uncle Tony was

very religious, and, whenever his mistress flogged him, he invariably gave her a religious exhortation.

Although unable to read, he, nevertheless, had on his tongue's end portions of Scripture which he could use at

any moment. In one end of the greenhouse was Uncle Tony's sleeping room, and those who happened in that

vicinity, between nine and ten at night, could hear the old man offering up his thanksgiving to God for his

protection during the day. Uncle Tony, however, took great pride, when he thought that any of the whites

were within hearing, to dwell, in his prayer, on his own goodness and the unfitness of others to die. Often was

he heard to say, "O Lord, thou knowest that the white folks are not Christians, but the black people are God's

own children." But if Tony thought that his old mistress was within the sound of his voice, he launched out

It was, therefore, on a sweet night, when the bright stars were looking out with a joyous sheen, that Mark and

two of the other boys passed the greenhouse, and heard Uncle Tony in his devotions.

"Let's have a little fun," said the mischievous Marcus to his young companions. "I will make Uncle Tony

believe that I am old mistress, and he'll give us an extra touch in his prayer." Mark immediately commenced

talking in a strain of voice resembling, as well as he could, Mrs. Miller, and at once Tony was heard to say in

a loud voice, "O Lord, thou knowest that the white people are not fit to die; but, as for old Tony, whenever

the angel of the Lord comes, he's ready." At that moment, Mark tapped lightly on the door. "Who's dar?"

thundered old Tony. Mark made no reply. The old man commenced and went through with the same remarks

addressed to the Lord, when Mark again knocked at the door. "Who dat dar?" asked Uncle Tony, with a

somewhat agitated countenance and trembling voice. Still Mark would not reply. Again Tony took up the

thread of his discourse, and said, "O Lord, thou knowest as well as I do that dese white folks are not prepared

to die, but here is old Tony, when de angel of de Lord comes, he's ready to go to heaven." Mark once more

"De angel of de Lord," replied Mark, in a somewhat suppressed and sepulchral voice.

"He's come for poor old Tony, to take him out of the world," replied Mark, in the same strange voice.

"Dat nigger ain't here; he die tree weeks ago," responded Tony, in a still more agitated and frightened tone.

Mark and his companions made the welkin ring with their shouts at the old man's answer. Uncle Tony

hearing them, and finding that he had been imposed upon, opened his door, came out with stick in hand, and

said, "Is dat you, Mr. Mark? you imp, if I can get to you I'll larn you how to come here wid your nonsense."

Mark and his companions left the garden, feeling satisfied that Uncle Tony was not as ready to go with "de

WHILE poor little Clotelle was being kicked about by Mrs. Miller, on account of her relationship to her

soninlaw, Isabella was passing lonely hours in the county jail, the place to which Jennings had removed

her for safekeeping, after purchasing her from Mrs. Miller. Incarcerated in one of the ironbarred rooms of

that dismal place, those dark, glowing eyes, lofty brow, and graceful form wilted down like a plucked rose

under a noonday sun, while deep in her heart's ambrosial cells was the most anguishing distress.

Vulgar curiosity is always in search of its victims, and Jennings' boast that he had such a ladylike and

beautiful woman in his possession brought numbers to the prison who begged of the jailer the privilege of

seeing the slavetrader's prize. Many who saw her were melted to tears at the pitiful sight, and were struck

with admiration at her intelligence; and, when she spoke of her child, they must have been convinced that a

mother's sorrow can be conceived by none but a mother's heart. The warbling of birds in the green bowers of

bliss, which she occasionally heard, brought no tidings of gladness to her. Their joy fell cold upon her heart,

and seemed like bitter mockery. They reminded her of her own cottage, where, with her beloved child, she

The speculator had kept close watch over his valuable piece of property, for fear that it might damage itself.

This, however, there was no danger of, for Isabella still hoped and believed that Henry would come to her

rescue. She could not bring herself to believe that he would allow her to be sent away without at least seeing

While Isabella, with a weary heart, was passing sleepless nights thinking only of her daughter and Henry, the

latter was seeking relief in that insidious enemy of the human race, the intoxicating cup. His wife did all in

her power to make his life a pleasant and a happy one, for Gertrude was devotedly attached to him; but a

weary heart gets no gladness out of sunshine. The secret remorse that rankled in his bosom caused him to see

all the world bloodshot. He had not visited his motherinlaw since the evening he had given her liberty to

use her own discretion as to how Isabella and her child should be disposed of. He feared even to go near the

house, for he did not wish to see his child. Gertrude felt this every time he declined accompanying her to her

mother's. Possessed of a tender and confiding heart, entirely unlike her mother, she sympathized deeply with

her husband. She well knew that all young men in the South, to a greater or less extent, became enamored of

the slavewomen, and she fancied that his case was only one of the many, and if he had now forsaken all

others for her she did not wish to be punished; but she dared not let her mother know that such were her

feelings. Again and again had she noticed the great resemblance between Clotelle and Henry, and she wished

At last Gertrude determined to mention the matter to her husband. Consequently, the next morning, when

they were seated on the back piazza, and the sun was pouring its splendid rays upon everything around,

changing the red tints on the lofty hills in the distance into streaks of purest gold, and nature seeming by her

"What, dear Henry, do you intend to do with Clotelle?" A paleness that overspread his countenance, the tears

that trickled down his cheeks, the deep emotion that was visible in his face, and the trembling of his voice,

showed at once that she had touched a tender chord. Without a single word, he buried his face in his

This made Gertrude still more unhappy, for she feared that he had misunderstood her; and she immediately

expressed her regret that she had mentioned the subject. Becoming satisfied from this that his wife

sympathized with him in his unhappy situation, Henry told her of the agony that filled his soul, and Gertrude

agreed to intercede for him with her mother for the removal of the child to a boardingschool in one of the

In the afternoon, when Henry returned from his office, his wife met him with tearful eyes, and informed him

that her mother was filled with rage at the mention of the removal of Clotelle from her premises.

In the mean time, the slavetrader, Jennings, had started for the South with his gang of human cattle, of

whom Isabella was one. Most quadroon women who are taken to the South are either sold to gentlemen for

their own use or disposed of as houseservants or waitingmaids. Fortunately for Isabella, she was sold for

the latter purpose. Jennings found a purchaser for her in the person of Mr. James French.

Mrs. French was a severe mistress. All who lived with her, though welldressed, were scantily fed and

overworked. Isabella found her new situation far different from her Virginia cottagelife. She had

frequently heard Vicksburg spoken of as a cruel place for slaves, and now she was in a position to test the

A few weeks after her arrival, Mrs. French began to show to Isabella that she was anything but a pleasant and

agreeable mistress. What social virtues are possible in a society of which injustice is a primary

characteristic, in a society which is divided into two classes, masters and slaves? Every married woman at

the South looks upon her husband as unfaithful, and regards every negro woman as a rival.

Isabella had been with her new mistress but a short time when she was ordered to cut off her long and

beautiful hair. The negro is naturally fond of dress and outward display. He who has short woolly hair combs

and oils it to death; he who has long hair would sooner have his teeth drawn than to part with it. But, however

painful it was to Isabella, she was soon seen with her hair cut short, and the sleeves of her dress altered to fit

tight to her arms. Even with her hair short and with her illlooking dress, Isabella was still handsome. Her

life had been a secluded one, and though now twentyeight years of age, her beauty had only assumed a

quieter tone. The other servants only laughed at Isabella's misfortune in losing her beautiful hair.

"Miss 'Bell needn't strut so big; she got short nappy har's well's I," said Nell, with a broad grin that showed

"Yes," continued Nell, "missus make her take down her wool, so she no put it up today."

The fairness of Isabella's complexion was regarded with envy by the servants as well as by the mistress

herself. This is one of the hard features of slavery. Today a woman is mistress of her own cottage; tomorrow

she is sold to one who aims to make her life as intolerable as possible. And let it be remembered that the

But the degradation and harsh treatment Isabella experienced in her new home was nothing compared to the

grief she underwent at being separated from her dear child. Taken from her with scarcely a moment's

This deep and heartfelt grief of Isabella was soon perceived by her owners, and fearing that her refusal to take

proper food would cause her death, they resolved to sell her. Mr. French found no difficulty in securing a

purchaser for the quadroon woman, for such are usually the most marketable kind of property. Isabella was

sold at private sale to a young man for a housekeeper; but even he had missed his aim.

Mr. Gordon, the new master, was a man of pleasure. He was the owner of a large sugar plantation, which he

had left under the charge of an overseer, and was now giving himself up to the pleasures of a city life. At first

Mr. Gordon sought to win Isabella's favor by flattery and presents, knowing that whatever he gave her he

could take from her again. The poor innocent creature dreaded every moment lest the scene should change.

At every interview with Gordon she stoutly maintained that she had left a husband in Virginia, and could

never think of taking another. In this she considered that she was truthful, for she had ever regarded Henry as

her husband. The gold watch and chain and other glittering presents which Gordon gave to her were all kept

In the same house with Isabella was a manservant who had from time to time hired himself from his master.

His name was William. He could feel for Isabella, for he, like her, had been separated from near and dear

relatives, and he often tried to console the poor woman. One day Isabella observed to him that her hair was

"Oh," rejoined she, "I have often been told that I would make a better looking man than woman, and if I had

In a moment afterwards, Isabella feared that she had said too much, and laughingly observed, "I am always

William was a tall, fullblooded African, whose countenance beamed with intelligence. Being a mechanic, he

had by industry earned more money than he had paid to his owner for his time, and this he had laid aside,

with the hope that he might some day get enough to purchase his freedom. He had in his chest about a

hundred and fifty dollars. His was a heart that felt for others, and he had again and again wiped the tears from

"If she can get free with a little money, why not give her what I have?" thought he, and then resolved to do it.

An hour after, he entered the quadroon's room, and, laying the money in her lap, said,

"There, Miss Isabella, you said just now that if you had the means you would leave this place. There is

money enough to take you to England, where you will be free. You are much fairer than many of the white

At first Isabella thought it was a plan by which the negro wished to try her fidelity to her owner; but she was

soon convinced, by his earnest manner and the deep feeling he manifested, that he was entirely sincere.

"I will take the money," said she, "only on one condition, and that is that I effect your escape, as well as my

"I will assume the disguise of a gentleman, and you that of a servant, and we will thus take passage in a

With full confidence in Isabella's judgment, William consented at once to the proposition. The clothes were

purchased; everything was arranged, and the next night, while Mr. Gordon was on one of his sprees, Isabella,

under the assumed name of Mr. Smith, with William in attendance as a servant, took passage for Cincinnati

With a pair of green glasses over her eyes, in addition to her other disguise, Isabella made quite a

gentlemanly appearance. To avoid conversation, however, she kept closely to her stateroom, under the plea

Meanwhile, William was playing his part well with the servants. He was loudly talking of his master's wealth,

"I don't like dese steamboats, no how," said he; "I hope when massa goes on anoder journey, he take de

After a ninedays' passage, the Heroine landed at Cincinnati, and Mr. Smith and his servant walked on shore.

"William, you are now a free man, and can go on to Canada," said Isabella; "I shall go to Virginia, in search

This sudden announcement fell heavily upon William's ears, and with tears he besought her not to jeopardize

her liberty in such a manner; but Isabella had made up her mind to rescue her child if possible.

Taking a boat for Wheeling, Isabella was soon on her way to her native State. Several months had elapsed

since she left Richmond, and all her thoughts were centred on the fate of her dear Clotelle. It was with a

palpitating heart that this injured woman entered the stagecoach at Wheeling and set out for Richmond.

IT was late in the evening when the coach arrived at Richmond, and Isabella once more alighted in her native

city. She had intended to seek lodgings somewhere in the outskirts of the town, but the lateness of the hour

compelled her to stop at one of the principal hotels for the night. She had scarcely entered the inn before she

recognized among the numerous black servants one to whom she was well known, and her only hope was that

her disguise would keep her from being discovered. The imperturbable calm and entire forgetfulness of self

which induced Isabella to visit a place from which she could scarcely hope to escape, to attempt the rescue of

a beloved child, demonstrate that overwillingness of woman to carry out the promptings of the finer feelings

of the heart. True to woman's nature, she had risked her own liberty for another's. She remained in the hotel

during the night, and the next morning, under the plea of illness, took her breakfast alone.

That day the fugitive slave paid a visit to the suburbs of the town, and once more beheld the cottage in which

she had spent so many happy hours. It was winter, and the clematis and passionflower were not there; but

there were the same walks her feet had so often pressed, and the same trees which had so often shaded her as

she passed through the garden at the back of the house. Old remembrances rushed upon her memory and

caused her to shed tears freely. Isabella was now in her native town, and near her daughter; but how could she

communicate with her? how could she see her? To have made herself known would have been a suicidal act;

betrayal would have followed, and she arrested. Three days passed away, and still she remained in the hotel at

Unfortunately for Isabella, a disturbance had just broken out among the slave population in the State of

The insurrection to which we now refer was headed by a fullblooded negro, who had been born and brought

up a slave. He had heard the crack of the driver's whip, and seen the warm blood streaming from the negro's

body. He had witnessed the separation of parents from children, and was made aware, by too many proofs,

that the slave could expect no justice from the hands of the slaveowner. The name of this man was Nat

Turner. He was a preacher amongst the negroes, distinguished for his eloquence, respected by the whites,

loved and venerated by the negroes. On the discovery of the plan for the outbreak, Turner fled to the swamps,

Here the revolted negroes numbered some hundreds, and for a time bade defiance to their oppressors. The

Dismal Swamps cover many thousand acres of wild land, and a dense forest, with wild animals and insects

such as are unknown in any other part of Virginia. Here runaway negroes usually seek a hidingplace, and

some have been known to reside here for years. The revolters were joined by one of these. He was a large,

tall, fullblooded negro, with a stern and savage countenance; the marks on his face showed that he was from

one of the barbarous tribes in Africa, and claimed that country as his native land. His only covering was a

girdle around his loins, made of skins of wild beasts which he had killed. His only token of authority among

those that he led was a pair of epaulettes, made of the tail of a fox, and tied to his shoulder by a cord. Brought

from the coast of Africa, when only fifteen years of age, to the island of Cuba, he was smuggled from thence

into Virginia. He had been two years in the swamps, and considered it his future home. He had met a negro

woman, who was also a runaway, and, after the fashion of his native land, had gone through the process of

oiling her, as the marriage ceremony. They had built a cave on a rising mound in the swamp, and this was

their home. This man's name was Picquilo. His only weapon was a sword made from a scythe which he had

stolen from a neighboring plantation. His dress, his character, his manners, and his mode of fighting were all

in keeping with the early training he had received in the land of his birth. He moved about with the activity of

a cat, and neither the thickness of the trees nor the depth of the water could stop him. He was a bold, turbulent

spirit; and, from motives of revenge, he imbrued his hands in the blood of all the whites he could meet.

Hunger, thirst, and loss of sleep, he seemed made to endure, as if by peculiarity of constitution. His air was

Such was the character of one of the negroes in the Southampton Insurrection. All negroes were arrested who

were found beyond their master's threshold, and all white strangers were looked upon with suspicion.

Such was the position in which Isabella found affairs when she returned to Virginia in search of her child.

Had not the slaveowners been watchful of strangers, owing to the outbreak, the fugitive could not have

escaped the vigilance of the police; for advertisements announcing her escape, and offering a large reward for

her arrest, had been received in the city previous to her arrival, and officers were therefore on the lookout for

It was on the third day after her arrival in Richmond, as the quadroon was seated in her room at the hotel, still

in the disguise of a gentleman, that two of the city officers entered the apartment and informed her that they

were authorized to examine all strangers, to assure the authorities that they were not in league with the

With trembling heart the fugitive handed the key of her trunk to the officers. To their surprise they found

nothing but female apparel in the trunk, which raised their curiosity, and caused a further investigation that

resulted in the arrest of Isabella as a fugitive slave. She was immediately conveyed to prison, there to await

For many days, uncheered by the voice of kindness, alone, hopeless, desolate, she waited for the time to

arrive when the chains should be placed on her limbs, and she returned to her inhuman and unfeeling owner.

The arrest of the fugitive was announced in all the newspapers, but created little or no sensation. The

inhabitants were too much engaged in putting down the revolt among the slaves; and, although all the odds

were against the insurgents, the whites found it no easy matter, with all their caution. Every day brought news

of fresh outbreaks. Without scruple and without pity, the whites massacred all blacks found beyond the limits

of their owners' plantations. The negroes, in return, set fire to houses, and put to death those who attempted to

escape from the flames. Thus carnage was added to carnage, and the blood of the whites flowed to avenge the

These were the ravages of slavery. No graves were dug for the negroes, but their bodies became food for dogs

and vultures; and their bones, partly calcined by the sun, remained scattered about, as if to mark the mournful

fury of servitude and lust of power. When the slaves were subdued, except a few in the swamps, bloodhounds

ON receiving intelligence of the arrest of Isabella, Mr. Gordon authorized the sheriff to sell her to the highest

bidder. She was, therefore, sold; the purchaser being the noted negrotrader, Hope H. Slater, who at once

placed her in prison. Here the fugitive saw none but slaves like herself, brought in and taken out to be placed

in ships, and sent away to some part of the country to which she herself would soon be compelled to go. She

had seen or heard nothing of her daughter while in Richmond, and all hopes of seeing her had now fled.

At the dusk of the evening previous to the day when she was to be sent off, as the old prison was being closed

for the night, Isabella suddenly dated past the keeper, and ran for her life. It was not a great distance from the

prison to the long bridge which passes from the lower part of the city across the Potomac to the extensive

forests and woodlands of the celebrated Arlington Heights, then occupied by that distinguished relative and

descendant of the immortal Washington, Mr. Geo. W. Custis. Thither the poor fugitive directed her flight. So

unexpected was her escape that she had gained several rods the start before the keeper had secured the other

prisoners, and rallied his assistants to aid in the pursuit. It was at an hour, and in a part of the city where

horses could not easily be obtained for the chase; no bloodhounds were at hand to run down the flying

woman, and for once it seemed as if there was to be a fair trial of speed and endurance between the slave and

The keeper and his force raised the hueandcry on her path as they followed close behind; but so rapid was

the flight along the wide avenue that the astonished citizens, as they poured forth from their dwellings to

learn the cause of alarm, were only able to comprehend the nature of the case in time to fall in with the

motley throng in pursuit, or raise an anxious prayer to heaven as they refused to join in the chase (as many a

one did that night) that the panting fugitive might escape, and the merciless souldealer for once be

disappointed of his prey. And now, with the speed of an arrow, having passed the avenue, with the distance

between her and her pursuers constantly increasing, this poor, hunted female gained the "Long Bridge," as it

is called, where interruption seemed improbably. Already her heart began to beat high with the hope of

success. She had only to pass threequarters of a mile across the bridge, when she could bury herself in a vast

forest, just as the time when the curtain of night would close around her, and protect her from the pursuit of

But God, by his providence, had otherwise determined. He had ordained that an appalling tragedy should be

enacted that night within plain sight of the President's house, and the Capitol of the Union, which would be

an evidence wherever it should be known of the unconquerable love of liberty which the human heart may

inherit, as well as a fresh admonition to the slavedealer of the cruelty and enormity of his crimes.

Just as the pursuers passed the high draw, soon after entering upon the bridge, they beheld three men slowly

approaching from the Virginia side. They immediately called to them to arrest the fugitive, proclaiming her a

runaway slave. True to their Virginia instincts, as she came near, they formed a line across the narrow bridge

to intercept her. Seeing the escape was impossible in that quarter, she stopped suddenly, and turned upon her

On came the profane and ribald crew faster than ever, already exulting in her capture, and threatening

punishment for her flight. For a moment she looked wildly and anxiously around to see if there was no hope

of escape. On either hand, far down below, rolled the deep, foaming waters of the Potomac, and before and

behind were the rapidly approaching steps and noisy voices of her pursuers. Seeing how vain would be any

further effort to escape, her resolution was instantly taken. She clasped her hands convulsively together,

raised her tearful and imploring eyes toward heaven, and begged for the mercy and compassion there which

was unjustly denied her on earth; then, exclaiming, "Henry, Clotelle, I die for thee!" with a single bound,

vaulted over the railing of the bridge, and sank forever beneath the angry and foaming waters of the river!

Such was the life, and such the death, of a woman whose virtues and goodness of heart would have done

honor to one in a higher station of life, and who, had she been born in any other land but that of slavery,

would have been respected and beloved. What would have been her feelings if she could have known that the

child for whose rescue she had sacrificed herself would one day be free, honored, and loved in another land?

THE curtain rises seven years after the death of Isabella. During that interval, Henry, finding that nothing

could induce his motherinlaw to relinquish her hold on poor little Clotelle, and not liking to contend with

one on whom a future fortune depended, gradually lost all interest in the child, and left her to her fate.

Although Mrs. Miller treated Clotelle with a degree of harshness scarcely equalled, when applied to one so

tender in years, still the child grew every day more beautiful, and her hair, though kept closely cut, seemed to

have improved in its soft, silklike appearance. Now twelve years of age, and more than usually

Henry and Gertrude had just returned from Washington, where the husband had been on his duties as a

member of Congress, and where he had remained during the preceding three years without returning home. It

was on a beautiful evening, just at twilight, while seated at his parlor window, that Henry saw a young

woman pass by and go into the kitchen. Not aware of ever having seen the person before, he made an errand

into the cook's department to see who the girl was. He, however, met her in the hall, as she was about going

"My mistress told me to give her and Master Henry her compliments, and ask them to come over and spend

The astonished father stood completely amazed, looking at the now womanly form of her who, in his happier

days, he had taken on his knee with so much fondness and alacrity. It was then that he saw his own and

Isabella's features combined in the beautiful face that he was then beholding. It was then that he was carried

back to the days when with a woman's devotion, poor Isabella hung about his neck and told him how lonely

were the hours in his absence. He could stand it no longer. Tears rushed to his eyes, and turning upon his

heel, he went back to his own room. It was then that Isabella was revenged; and she no doubt looked

On Gertrude's return from her shopping tour, she found Henry in a melancholy mood, and soon learned its

cause. As Gertrude had borne him no children, it was but natural, that he should now feel his love centering

in Clotelle, and he now intimated to his wife his determination to remove his daughter from the hands of his

When this news reached Mrs. Miller, through her daughter, she became furious with rage, and calling

Clotelle into her room, stripped her shoulders bare and flogged her in the presence of Gertrude.

It was nearly a week after the poor girl had been so severely whipped and for no cause whatever, that her

father learned on the circumstance through one of the servants. With a degree of boldness unusual for him, he

immediately went to his motherinlaw and demanded his child. But it was too late,she was gone. To

what place she had been sent no one could tell, and Mrs. Miller refused to give any information whatever

It was then that Linwood felt deepest the evil of the institution under which he was living; for he knew that

his daughter would be exposed to all the vices prevalent in that part of the country where marriage is not

IT was a delightful evening after a cloudless day, with the setting sun reflecting his golden rays on the

surrounding hills which were covered with a beautiful greensward, and the luxuriant verdure that forms the

constant garb of the tropics, that the steamer Columbia ran into the dock at Natchez, and began unloading the

cargo, taking in passengers and making ready to proceed on her voyage to New Orleans. The plank

connecting the boat with the shore had scarcely been secured in its place, when a goodlooking man about

fifty years of age, with a white necktie, and a pair of goldrimmed glasses on, was seen hurrying on board

the vessel. Just at that moment could be seen a stout man with his face fitted with the smallpox, making his

"How do you do, my dear sir? this is Mr. Wilson, I believe," said the short man, at the same time taking from

"Why, don't you know me? My name is Jennings; I sold you a splendid negro woman some years ago."

"Yes, yes," answered the Natchez man. "I remember you now, for the woman died in a few months, and I

"I could not help that," returned the slavetrader; "she was as sound as a roach when I sold her to you."

"Oh, yes," replied the parson, "I know she was; but now I want a young girl, fit for house use,one that will

"I am your man," said Jennings, "just follow me," continued he, "and I will show you the fairest little critter

you ever saw." And the two passed to the stern of the boat to where the trader had between fifty and sixty

"There," said Jennings, as a beautiful young woman shrunk back with modesty. "There, sir, is the very gal

that was made for you. If she had been made to your order, she could not have suited you better."

"Yes," said the trader, "I bought her in Richmond, and she comes from an excellent family. She was raised by

Squire Miller, and her mistress was one of the most pious ladies in that city, I may say; she was the salt of the

"But she resembles in some respect Agnes, the woman I bought from you," said Mr. Wilson. As he said the

name of Agnes, the young woman started as if she had been struck. Her pulse seemed to quicken, but her face

alternately flushed and turned pale, and tears trembled upon her eyelids. It was a name she had heard her

mother mention, and it brought to her memory those days,those happy days, when she was so loved and

caressed. This young woman was Clotelle, the granddaughter of Agnes. The preacher, on learning the fact,

purchased her, and took her home, feeling that his daughter Georgiana would prize her very highly. Clotelle

found in Georgiana more a sister than a mistress, who, unknown to her father, taught the slavegirl how to

read, and did much toward improving and refining Clotelle's manners, for her own sake. Like her mother

fond of flowers, the "Virginia Maid," as she was sometimes called, spent many of her leisure hours in the

garden. Beside the flowers which sprang up from the fertility of soil unplanted and unattended, there was the

heliotrope, sweetpea, and cuprose, transplanted from the island of Cuba. In her new home Clotelle found

herself saluted on all sides by the fragrance of the magnolia. When she went with her young mistress to the

Poplar Farm, as she sometimes did, nature's wild luxuriance greeted her, wherever she cast her eyes.

The rustling citron, lime, and orange, shady mango with its fruits of gold, and the palmetto's umbrageous

beauty, all welcomed the child of sorrow. When at the farm, Huckelby, the overseer, kept his eye on Clotelle

if within sight of her, for he knew she was a slave, and no doubt hoped that she might some day fall into his

hands. But she shrank from his looks as she would have done from the charm of the rattlesnake. The

negrodriver always tried to insinuate himself into the good opinion of Georgiana and the company that she

brought. Knowing that Miss Wilson at heart hated slavery, he was ever trying to show that the slaves under

his charge were happy and contented. One day, when Georgiana and some of her Connecticut friends were

there, the overseer called all the slaves up to the "great house," and set some of the young ones to dancing.

After awhile whiskey was brought in and a dram given to each slave, in return for which they were expected

to give a toast, or sing a short piece of his own composition; when it came to Jack's turn he said,

"The big bee flies high, the little bee makes the honey: the black folks make the cotton, and the white folks

Of course, the overseer was not at all elated with the sentiment contained in Jack's toast. Mr. Wilson had

lately purchased a young man to assist about the house and to act as coachman. This slave, whose name was

Jerome, was of pure African origin, was perfectly black, very finelooking, tall, slim, and erect as any one

could possibly be. His features were not bad, lips thin, nose prominent, hands and feet small. His brilliant

black eyes lighted up his whole countenance. His hair, which was nearly straight, hung in curls upon his lofty

brow. George Combe or Fowler would have selected his head for a model. He was brave and daring, strong

in person, fiery in spirit, yet kind and true in his affections, earnest in his doctrines. Clotelle had been at the

parson's but a few weeks when it was observed that a mutual feeling had grown up between her and Jerome.

As time rolled on, they became more and more attached to each other. After satisfying herself that these two

really loved, Georgiana advised their marriage. But Jerome contemplated his escape at some future day, and

therefore feared that if married it might militate against it. He hoped, also, to be able to get Clotelle away too,

and it was this hope that kept him from trying to escape by himself. Dante did not more love his Beatrice,

Swift his Stella, Waller his Saccharissa, Goldsmith his Jessamy bride, or Burns his Mary, than did Jerome his

Clotelle. Unknown to her father, Miss Wilson could permit these two slaves to enjoy more privileges than

any of the other servants. The young mistress taught Clotelle, and the latter imparted her instructions to her

lover, until both could read so as to be well understood. Jerome felt his superiority, and always declared that

no master should ever flog him. Aware of his high spirit and determination, Clotelle was in constant fear lest

One day Mr. Wilson, being somewhat out of temper and irritated at what he was pleased to call Jerome's

insolence, ordered him to follow him to the barn to be flogged. The young slave obeyed his master, but those

"No, sir," replied Jerome, as his master told him to take off his coat: "I will serve you, Master Wilson, I will

This was too much for a white man to stand from a negro, and the preacher seized his slave by the throat,

intending to choke him. But for once he found his match. Jerome knocked him down, and then escaped

Recovering somewhat from the effect of his fall, the parson regained his feet and started in pursuit of the

fugitive. Finding, however, that the slave was beyond his reach, he at once resolved to put the dogs on his

track. Tabor, the negrocatcher, was sent for, and in less than an hour, eight or ten men, including the parson,

were in the woods with hounds, trying the trails. These dogs will attack a negro at their master's bidding; and

cling to him as the bulldog will cling to a beast. Many are the speculations as to whether the negro will be

secured alive or dead, when these dogs once get on his track. Whenever there is to be a negro hunt, there is no

lack of participants. Many go to enjoy the fun which it is said they derive from these scenes.

The company had been in the woods but a short time ere they go on the track of two fugitives, once of whom

was Jerome. The slaves immediately bent their steps toward the swamp, with the hope that the dogs, when

The slaves then took a straight course for the Baton Rouge and Bayou Sara road, about four miles distant.

Nearer and nearer the whimpering pack pressed; their delusion begins to dispel. All at once the truth flashes

The scent becomes warmer and warmer, and what was at first an irregular cry now deepens into one ceaseless

They at last reach the river, and in the negroes plunge, followed by the catchdog. Jerome is caught and is

once more in the hands of his master, while the other poor fellow finds a watery grave. They return, and the

IN vain did Georgiana try to console Clotelle, when the latter heard, through one of the other slaves, that Mr.

Wilson had started with the dogs in pursuit of Jerome. The poor girl well knew that he would be caught, and

that severe punishment, if not death, would be the result of his capture. It was therefore with a heart filled

with the deepest grief that the slavegirl heard the footsteps of her master on his return from the chase. The

dogged and stern manner of the preacher forbade even his daughter inquiring as to the success of his pursuit.

Georgiana secretly hoped that the fugitive had not bee caught; she wished it for the sake of the slave, and

more especially for her maidservant, whom she regarded more as a companion than a menial. But the news

of the capture of Jerome soon spread through the parson's household, and found its way to the ears of the

The reverend gentleman had not been home more than an hour ere some of his parishioners called to know if

they should not take the negro from the prison and execute *Lynch law* upon him.

"No negro should be permitted to live after striking a white man; let us take him and hang him at once,"

remarked an elderlylooking man, whose gray hairs thinly covered the crown of his head.

"I think the deacon is right," said another of the company; "if our slaves are allowed to set the will of their

masters at defiance, there will be no getting along with them, an insurrection will be the next thing we hear

"No, no," said the preacher; "I am willing to let the law take its course, as it provides for the punishment of a

slave with death if he strikes his master. We had better let the court decide the question. Moreover, as a

Christian and Godfearing people, we ought to submit to the dictates of justice. Should we take this man's

The company then quietly withdrew, showing that the preacher had some influence with his people.

"This," said Mr. Wilson, when left alone with his daughter, "this, my dear Georgiana, is the result of your

kindness to the negroes. You have spoiled every one about the house. I can't whip one of them, without being

"I am sure, papa," replied the young lady,"I am sure I never did any thing intentionally to induce any of the

"No, my dear," said Mr. Wilson, "but you are too kind to them. Now, there is Clotelle,that girl is

completely spoiled. She walks about the house with as dignified an air as if she was mistress of the premises.

"But," answered Georgiana, "Clotelle has a superior mind, and God intended her to hold a higher position in

"Yes, my dear, and it was your letting her know that she was intended for a better station in society that is

spoiling her. Always keep a negro in ignorance of what you conceive to be his abilities," returned the parson.

It was late on the Saturday afternoon, following the capture of Jerome that, while Mr. Wilson was seated in

his study preparing his sermon for the next day, Georgiana entered the room and asked in an excited tone if it

"What business has she to die of grief?" returned the father, his eyes at the moment flashing fire.

"She has neither eaten nor slept since he was captured," replied Georgiana; "and I am certain that she will not

"I cannot be disturbed now," said the parson; "I must get my sermon ready for tomorrow. I expect to have

some strangers to preach to, and must, therefore, prepare a sermon that will do me credit."

"With devotion's visage, and pious actions, We do sugar over the devil himself."

Georgiana did all in her power to soothe the feelings of Clotelle, and to induce her to put her trust in God.

Unknown to her father, she allowed the poor girl to go every evening to the jail to see Jerome, and during

these visits, despite her own grief, Clotelle would try to comfort her lover with the hope that justice would be

Thus the time passed on, and the day was fast approaching when the slave was to die. Having heard that some

secret meeting had been held by the negroes, previous to the attempt of Mr. Wilson to flog his slave, it

occurred to a magistrate that Jerome might know something of the intended revolt. He accordingly visited the

prison to see if he could learn anything from him, but all to no purpose. Having given up all hopes of escape,

Jerome had resolved to die like a brave man. When questioned as to whether he knew anything of a

"But if you know anything," remarked the magistrate, "and will tell us, you may possibly have your life

"Life," answered the doomed man, "is worth nought to a slave. What right has a slave to himself, his wife, or

his children? We are kept in heathenish darkness, by laws especially enacted to make our instruction a

criminal offence; and our bones, sinews, blood, and nerves are exposed in the market for sale.

"My liberty is of as much consequence to me as Mr. Wilson's is to him. I am as sensitive to feeling as he. If I

mistake not, the day will come when the negro will learn that he can get his freedom by fighting for it; and

should that time arrive, the whites will be sorry that they have hated us so shamefully. I am free to say that,

could I live my life over again, I would use all the energies which God has given me to get up an

Every one present seemed startled and amazed at the intelligence with which this descendant of Africa spoke.

"Yes," said another, "he got some booklearning somewhere, and that has spoiled him."

An effort was then made to learn from Jerome where he had learned to read, but the black refused to give any

The sun was just going down behind the trees as Clotelle entered the prison to see Jerome for the last time.

He was to die on the next day. Her face was bent upon her hands, and the gushing tears were forcing their

way through her fingers. With beating heart and trembling hands, evincing the deepest emotion, she threw her

arms around her lover's neck and embraced him. But, prompted by her heart's unchanging love, she had in her

own mind a plan by which she hoped to effect the escape of him to whom she had pledged her heart and

hand. While the overcharged clouds which had hung over the city during the day broke, and the rain fell in

torrents, amid the most terrific thunder and lightning, Clotelle revealed to Jerome her plan for his escape.

This Jerome at first declined doing. He did not wish to place a confiding girl in a position where, in all

probability, she would have to suffer; but being assured by the young girl that her life would not be in danger,

he resolved to make the attempt. Clotelle being very tall, it was not probably that the jailer would discover

At this moment, she took from her pocket a bunch of keys and unfastened the padlock, and freed him from

"Come, girl, it is time for you to go," said the jailer, as Jerome was holding the almost fainting girl by the

Being already attired in Clotelle's clothes, the disguised man embraced the weeping girl, put his handkerchief

to his face, and passed out of the jail, without the keeper's knowing that his prisoner was escaping in a

JEROME had scarcely passed the prisongates, ere he reproached himself for having taken such a step. There

seemed to him no hope of escape out of the State, and what was a few hours or days at most, of life to him,

when, by obtaining it, another had been sacrificed. He was on the eve of returning, when he thought of the

last words uttered by Clotelle. "Be brave and determined, and you will still be free." The words sounded like

Clotelle had provided a suit of men's clothes and had placed them where her lover could get them, if he

Returning to Mr. Wilson's barn, the fugitive changed his apparel, and again retraced his steps into the street.

To reach the Free States by travelling by night and lying by during the day, from a State so far south as

Mississippi, no one would think for a moment of attempting to escape. To remain in the city would be a

suicidal step. The deep sound of the escape of steam from a boat, which was at that moment ascending the

river, broke upon the ears of the slave. "If that boat is going up the river," said he, "why not I conceal myself

on board, and try to escape?" He went at once to the steamboat landing, where the boat was just coming in.

"Bound for Louisville," said the captain, to one who was making inquiries. As the passengers were rushing

on board, Jerome followed them, and proceeding to where some of the hands were stowing away bales of

"Jump down into the hold, there, and help the men," said the mate to the fugitive, supposing that, like many

persons, he was working his way up the river. Once in the hull among the boxes, the slave concealed himself.

Weary hours, and at last days, passed without either water or food with the hidden slave. More than once did

he resolve to let his case be known; but the knowledge that he would be sent back to Natchez kept him from

doing so. At last, with lips parched and fevered to a crisp, the poor man crawled out into the freightroom,

and began wandering about. The hatches were on, and the room dark. There happened to be on board a

wedding party, and a box, containing some ofthe bridal cake, with several bottles of port wine, was near

Jerome. He found the box, opened it, and helped himself. In eight days, the boat tied up at the wharf at the

place of her destination. It was late at night; the boat's crew, with the single exception of the man on watch,

were on shore. The hatches were off, and the fugitive quietly made his way on deck and jumped on shore.

Still in a Slave State, Jerome was at a loss to know how he should proceed. He had with him a few dollars,

enough to pay his way to Canada, if he could find a conveyance. The fugitive procured such food as he

wanted from one of the many eatinghouses, and then, following the direction of the North Star, he passed

out of the city, and took the road leading to Covington. Keeping near the Ohio River, Jerome soon found an

opportunity to cross over into the State of Indiana. But liberty was a mere name in the latter State, and the

fugitive learned, from some colored persons that he met, that it was not safe to travel by daylight. While

making his way one night, with nothing to cheer him but the prospect of freedom in the future, he was

pounced upon by three men who were lying in wait for another fugitive, an advertisement of whom they had

received through the mail. In vain did Jerome tell them that he was not a slave. True, they had not caught the

man they expected; but, if they could make this slave tell from what place he had escaped, they knew that a

Tortured by the slavecatchers, to make him reveal the name of his master and the place from whence he had

escaped, Jerome gave them a fictitious name in Virginia, and said that his master would give a large reward,

and manifested a willingness to return to his "old boss." By this misrepresentation, the fugitive hoped to have

another chance of getting away. Allured with the prospect of a large sum of the needful, the slavecatchers

started back with their victim. Stopping on the second night at an inn, on the banks of the Ohio River, the

kidnappers, in lieu of a suitable place in which to confine their prize during the night, chained him to the

bedpost of their sleepingchamber. The white men were late in retiring to rest, after an evening spent in

drinking. At dead of night, when all was still, the slave arose from the floor, upon which he had been lying,

looked around and saw that Morpheus had possession of his captors. For once, thought he, the brandy bottle

has done a noble work. With palpitating heart and trembling limbs, he viewed his position. The door was fast,

but the warm weather had compelled them to leave the window open. If he could but get his chains off, he

might escape through the window to the piazza. The sleepers' clothes hung upon chairs by the bedside. The

slave thought of the padlockkey, examined the pockets, and found it. The chains were soon off, and the

negro stealthily making his way to the window. He stopped, and said to himself, "These men are villains;

they are enemies to all who, like me, are trying to be free. Then why not I teach them a lesson?" He then

dressed himself in the best suit, hung his own wornout and tattered garments on the same chair, and silently

passed through the window to the piazza, and let himself down by one of the pillars, and started once more

Daylight came upon the fugitive before he had selected a hidingplace for the day, and he was walking at a

rapid rate, in hopes of soon reaching some woodland or forest. The sun had just begun to show itself, when

the fugitive was astounded at seeing behind him, in the distance, two men upon horseback. Taking a road to

the right, the slave saw before him a farmhouse, and so near was he to it that he observed two men in front of

it looking at him. It was too late to turn back. The kidnappers were behind himstrange men before him.

Those in the rear he knew to be enemies, while he had no idea of what principles were the farmers. The latter

also saw the white men coming, and called to the fugitive to come that way. The broadbrimmed hats that the

Jerome had seen some of these people passing up and down the river, when employed on a steamer between

Natchez and New Orleans, and had heard that they disliked slavery. He, therefore, hastened toward the

drabcoated men, who, on his approach, opened the barndoor, and told him to "run in."

When Jerome entered the barn, the two farmers closed the door, remaining outside themselves, to confront

the slavecatchers, who now came up and demanded admission, feeling that they had their prey secure.

"The can't enter my premises," said one of the Friends, in rather a musical voice.

The negrocatchers urged their claim to the slave, and intimated that, unless they were allowed to secure him,

they would force their way in. By this time, several other Quakers had gathered around the barndoor.

Unfortunately for the kidnappers, and most fortunately for the fugitive, the Friends had just been holding a

quarterly meeting in the neighborhood, and a number of them had not yet returned to their homes. After some

talk, the men in drab promised to admit the hunters, provided they procured an officer and a searchwarrant

from a justice of the peace. One of the slavecatchers was left to see that the fugitive did not get away, while

the others went in pursuit of an officer. In the mean time, the owner of the barn sent for a hammer and nails,

After an hour in search of the man of the law, they returned with an officer and a warrant. The Quaker

demanded to see the paper, and, after looking at it for some time, called to his son to go into the house for his

glasses. It was a long time before Aunt Ruth found the leather case, and when she did, the glasses wanted

wiping before they could be used. After comfortably adjusting them on his nose, he read the warrant over

"Yes, thee may go in, now. I am inclined to throw no obstacles in the way of the execution of the law of the

On approaching the door, the men found some forty or fifty nails in it, in the way of their progress.

"Lend me your hammer and a chisel, if you please, Mr. Dugdale," said the officer.

"I see nothing there which says I must furnish thee with tools to open my door. If thee wants a hammer, thee

The implements for opening the door are at length obtained, and, after another halfhour, the slavecatchers

are in the barn. Three hours is a long time for a slave to be in the hands of Quakers. The hay is turned over,

and the barn is visited in every part; but still the runaway is not found. Uncle Joseph has a glow upon his

countenance; Ephraim shakes his head knowingly; little Elijah is a perfect knownothing, and, if you look

toward the house, you will see Aunt Ruth's smiling face, ready to announce that breakfast is ready.

"What were you nailing up your door for, then, as if you were afraid we would enter?" inquired one of the

The secret was out; the fugitive had gone in at the front door and out at the back; and the reading of the

warrant, nailing up of the door, and other preliminaries of the Quaker, was to give the fugitive time and

It was now late in the morning, and the slavecatchers were a long way from home, and the horses were

jaded by the rapid manner in which they had travelled. The Friends, in high glee, returned to the house for

breakfast; the man of the law, after taking his fee, went home, and the kidnappers turned back, muttering,

NOW in her seventeenth year, Clotelle's personal appearance presented a great contrast to the time when she

lived with old Mrs. Miller. Her tall and welldeveloped figure; her long, silky black hair, falling in curls

down her swanlike neck; her bright, black eyes lighting up her olivetinted face, and a set of teeth that a

Tuscarora might envy, she was a picture of tropicalripened beauty. At times, there was a heavenly smile

upon her countenance, which would have warmed the heart of an anchorite. Such was the personal

appearance of the girl who was now in prison by her own act to save the life of another. Would she be hanged

in his stead, or would she receive a different kind of punishment? These questions Clotelle did not ask

herself. Open, frank, free, and generous to a fault, she always thought of others, never of her own welfare.

The long stay of Clotelle caused some uneasiness to Miss Wilson; yet she dared not tell her father, for he had

forbidden the slavegirl's going to the prison to see her lover. While the clock on the church near by was

striking eleven, Georgiana called Sam, and sent him to the prison in search of Clotelle.

"The girl went away from here at eight o'clock," was the jailer's answer to the servant's inquiries.

The return of Sam without having found the girl saddened the heart of the young mistress. "Sure, then," said

Still, she waited till morning before breaking the news of Clotelle's absence to her father.

The jailer discovered, the next morning, to his utter astonishment, that his prisoner was white instead of

black, and his first impression was that the change of complexion had taken place during the night, through

fear of death. But this conjecture was soon dissipated; for the dark, glowing eyes, the sable curls upon the

lofty brow, and the mild, sweet voice that answered his questions, informed him that the prisoner before him

On learning, in the morning, that Clotelle was in jail dressed in male attire, Miss Wilson immediately sent

clothes to her to make a change in her attire. News of the heroic and daring act of the slavegirl spread

"I will sell every nigger on the place," said the parson, at the breakfasttable,"I will sell them all, and get a

Poor Georgiana wept for the safety of Clotelle, while she felt glad that Jerome had escaped. In vain did they

try to extort from the girl the whereabouts of the man whose escape she had effected. She was not aware that

"I don't know; and if I did I would not tell you. I care not what you do with me, if Jerome but escapes."

The smile with which she uttered these words finely illustrated the poet's meaning, when he says,

Her sweet simplicity seemed to dare them to lay their rough hands amid her trembling curls.

Three days did the heroic young woman remain in prison, to be gazed at by an unfeeling crowd, drawn there

out of curiosity. The intelligence came to her at last that the court had decided to spare her life, on condition

that she should be whipped, sold, and sent out of the State within twentyfour hours.

This order of the court she would have cared but little for, had she not been sincerely attached to her young

"Do try and sell her to some one who will use her well," said Georgiana to her father, as he was about taking

"I shall not trouble myself to do any such thing," replied the hardhearted parson. "I leave the finding of a

Bathed in tears, Miss Wilson paced her room in the absence of her father. For many months Georgiana had

been in a decline, and any little trouble would lay her on a sick bed for days. She was, therefore, poorly able

Mr. Wilson had informed his daughter that Clotelle was to be flogged; and when Felice came in and informed

her mistress that the poor girl had just received fifty lashes on her bare person, the young lady fainted and fell

on the floor. The servants placed their mistress on the sofa, and went in pursuit of their master. Little did the

preacher think, on returning to his daughter, that he should soon be bereft of her; yet such was to be his lot. A

bloodvessel had been ruptured, and the three physicians who were called in told the father that he must

prepare to lose his child. That moral courage and calmness, which was her great characteristic, did not

forsake Georgiana in her hour of death. She had ever been kind to the slaves under her charge, and they loved

and respected her. At her request, the servants were all brought into her room, and took a last farewell of their

mistress. Seldom, if ever, was there witnessed a more touching scene than this. There lay the young woman,

pale and feeble, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa,

some of whom had been separated from every earthly tie, and the most of whose persons had been torn and

gashed by the negrowhip. Some were upon their knees at the bedside, others standing around, and all

Death is a leveler; and neither age, sex, wealth, nor condition, can avert when he is permitted to strike. The

most beautiful flowers must soon fade and droop and die. So, also, with man; his days are as uncertain as the

passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigor, but the next, he may be counted with the

number no more known on earth. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when this young flower was gone!

In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had dropped and died. Deep were the sounds of

grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse

and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death.

Who can imagine the feeling with which poor Clotelle received the intelligence of her kind friend's death?

The deep gashes of the cruel whip had prostrated the lovely form of the quadroon, and she lay upon her bed

of straw in the dark cell. The speculator had brought her, but had postponed her removal till she should

"Is Jerome safe?" she would ask herself continually. If her lover could have but known of the sufferings of

that sweet flower, that polyanthus over which he had so often been in his dreams,he would then have

It was more than a fortnight before the slavetrader could take his prize to more comfortable quarters. Like

Alcibiades, who defaced the images of the gods and expected to be pardoned on the ground of eccentricity, so

men who abuse God's image hope to escape the vengeance of his wrath under the plea that the law sanctions

IT was a beautiful Sunday in September, with a cloudless sky, and the rays of the sun parching the already

thirsty earth, that Clotelle stood at an upper window in Slater's slavepen in New Orleans, gasping for a

breath of fresh air. The bells of thirty churches were calling the people to the different places of worship.

Crowds were seen wending their way to the houses of God; one followed by a negro boy carrying his

master's Bible; another followed by her maidservant holding the mistress' fan; a third supporting an

umbrella over his master's head to shield him from the burning sun. Baptists immersed, Presbyterians

sprinkled, Methodists shouted, and Episcopalians read their prayers, while ministers of the various sects

preached that Christ died for all. The chiming of the bells seemed to mock the sighs and deep groans of the

forty human beings then incarcerated in the slavepen. These imprisoned children of God were many of them

Methodists, some Baptists, and others claiming to believe in the faith of the Presbyterians and Episcopalians.

Oh, with what anxiety did these creatures await the close of that Sabbath, and the dawn of another day, that

should deliver them from those dismal and close cells. Slowly the day passed away, and once more the

evening breeze found its way through the barred windows of the prison that contained these injured sons and

The clock on the calaboose had just struck nine on Monday morning, when hundreds of persons were seen

threading the gates and doors of the negropen. It was the same gang that had the day previous been stepping

to the tune and keeping time with the musical church bells. Their Bibles were not with them, their

prayerbooks were left at home, and even their long and solemn faces had been laid aside for the week. They

had come to the manmarket to make their purchases. Methodists were in search of their brethren. Baptists

were looking for those that had been immersed, while Presbyterians were willing to buy fellowChristians,

whether sprinkled or not. The crowd was soon gazing at and feasting their eyes upon the lovely features of

"She is handsomer," muttered one to himself, "than the lady that sat in the pew next to me yesterday."

Groups are seen talking in every part of the vast building, and the topic on 'Change, is the "beautiful

quadroon." By and by, a tall young man with a foreign face, the curling mustache protruding from under a

finelychiseled nose, and having the air of a gentleman, passes by. His dark hazel eye is fastened on the

maid, and he stops for a moment; the stranger walks away, but soon returns he looks, he sees the young

woman wipe away the silent tear that steals down her alabaster cheek; he feels ashamed that he should gaze

so unmanly on the blushing face of the woman. As he turns upon his heel he takes out his white handkerchief

and wipes his eyes. It may be that he has lost a sister, a mother, or some dear one to whom he was betrothed.

Again he comes, and the quadroon hides her face. She has heard that foreigners make bad masters, and she

shuns his piercing gaze. Again he goes away and then returns. He takes a last look and then walks hurriedly

The day wears away, but long before the time of closing the sale the tall young man once more enters the

slavepen. He looks in every direction for the beautiful slave, but she is not thereshe has been sold! He

goes to the trader and inquires, but he is too late, and he therefore returns to his hotel.

Having entered a military school in Paris when quite young, and soon after been sent with the French army to

India, Antoine Devenant had never dabbled in matters of love. He viewed all women from the same

standpointrespected them for their virtues, and often spoke of the goodness of heart of the sex, but never

dreamed of taking to himself a wife. The unequalled beauty of Clotelle had dazzled his eyes, and every look

that she gave was a dagger that went to his heart. He felt a shortness of breath, his heart palpitated, his head

grew dizzy, and his limbs trembled; but he knew not its cause. This was the first stage of "love at first sight."

He who bows to the shrine of beauty when beckoned by this mysterious agent seldom regrets it. Devenant

reproached himself for not having made inquiries concerning the girl before he left the market in the

morning. His stay in the city was to be short, and the yellow fever was raging, which caused him to feel like

making a still earlier departure. The disease appeared in a form unusually severe and repulsive. It seized its

victims from amongst the most healthy of the citizens. The disorder began in the brain by oppressive pain

accompanied or followed by fever. Fiery veins streaked the eye, the face was inflamed and dyed of a dark

dull red color; the ears from time to time rang painfully. Now mucous secretions surcharged the tongue and

took away the power of speech; now the sick one spoke, but in speaking had foresight of death. When the

violence of the disease approached the heart, the gums were blackened. The sleep broken, troubled by

convulsions, or by frightful visions, was worse than the waking hours; and when the reason sank under a

delirium which had its seat in the brain, repose utterly forsook the patient's couch. The progress of the fever

within was marked by yellowish spots, which spread over the surface of the body. If then, a happy crisis

came not, all hope was gone. Soon the breath infected the air with a fetid odor, the lips were glazed, despair

painted itself in the eyes, and sobs, with long intervals of silence, formed the only language. From each side

of the mouth, spread foam tinged with black and burnt blood. Blue streaks mingled with the yellow all over

the frame. All remedies were useless. This was the yellow fever. The disorder spread alarm and confusion

throughout the city. On an average more than four hundred died daily. In the midst of disorder and confusion,

death heaped victims on victims. Friend followed friend in quick succession. The sick were avoided from the

fear of contagion, and for the same reason the dead were left unburied. Nearly two thousand dead bodies lay

uncovered in the burialground, with only here and there a little lime thrown over them, to prevent the air

becoming infected. The negro, whose home is in a hot climate, was not proof against the disease. Many

plantations had to suspend their work for want of slaves to take the places of those who had been taken off by

THE clock in the hall had scarcely finished striking three when Mr. Taylor entered his own dwelling, a fine

residence in Camp Street, New Orleans, followed by the slavegirl whom he had just purchased at the

negropen. Clotelle looked around wildly as she passed through the hall into the presence of her new

mistress. Mrs. Taylor was much pleased with her servant's appearance, and congratulated her husband on his

"But," said Mrs. Taylor, after Clotelle had gone into the kitchen, "how much she looks like Miss Jane

"Indeed," replied the husband, "I thought, the moment I saw her that she looked like the Mortons."

"I am sure I never saw two faces more alike in my life, than that girl's and Jane Morton's," continued Mrs.

Dr. Morton, the purchaser of Marion, the youngest daughter of Agnes, and sister to Isabella, had resided in

Camp Street, near the Taylors, for more than eight years, and the families were on very intimate terms, and

visited each other frequently. Every one spoke of Clotelle's close resemblance to the Mortons, and especially

to the eldest daughter. Indeed, two sisters could hardly have been more alike. The large, dark eyes, black,

The morning following Clotelle's arrival in her new home, Mrs. Taylor was conversing in a low tone with her

husband, and both with their eyes following Clotelle as she passed through the room.

"She is far above the station of a slave," remarked the lady. "I saw her, last night, when removing some

books, open on and stand over it a moment as if she was reading; and she is as white as I am. I am almost

At this juncture the front doorbell rang, and Clotelle hurried through the room to answer it.

"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Taylor to her husband, "just look and see if you do not notice a marked

"Have you heard that the Jamisons are down with the fever?" inquired the young lady, after asking about the

"No, I had not; I was in hopes it would not get into our street," replied Mrs. Taylor.

All this while Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were keenly scrutinizing their visitor and Clotelle and even the two young

women seemed to be conscious that they were in some way the objects of more than usual attention.

Miss Morton had scarcely departed before Mrs. Taylor began questioning Clotelle concerning her early

childhood, and became more than ever satisfied that the slavegirl was in some way connected with the

Every hour brought fresh news of the ravages of the fever, and the Taylors commenced preparing to leave

town. As Mr. Taylor could not go at once, it was determined that his wife should leave without him,

accompanied by her new maidservant. Just as Mrs. Taylor and Clotelle were stepping into the carriage, they

It was a beautiful day, with a fine breeze for the time of year, that Mrs. Taylor and her servant found

themselves in the cabin of the splendid new steamer "WalkintheWater," bound from New Orleans to

Mobile. Every berth in the boat was occupied by persons fleeing from the fearful contagion that was carrying

Late in the day, as Clotelle was standing at one of the windows of the ladies' saloon, she was astonished to

see near her, and with eyes fixed intently upon her, the tall young stranger whom she had observed in the

slavemarket a few days before. She turned hastily away, but the heated cabin and the want of fresh air soon

drove her again to the window. The young gentleman again appeared, and coming to the end of the saloon,

spoke to the slavegirl in broken English. This confirmed her in her previous opinion that he was a foreigner,

"What do you want with me?" she inquired. "I am your friend," he answered. "I saw you in the slavemarket

last week, and regretted that I did not speak to you then. I returned in the evening, but you was gone."

Clotelle looked indignantly at the stranger, and was about leaving the window again when the quivering of

his lips and the trembling of his voice struck her attention and caused her to remain.

"I intended to buy you and make you free and happy, but I was too late," continued he.

"Because I once had an only and lovely sister, who died three years ago in France, and you are so much like

her that had I not known of her death I should certainly have taken you for her."

"However much I may resemble your sister, you are aware that I am not she; why, then, take so much interest

Clotelle had all along suspected that the man was a knave, and this profession of love at once confirmed her

Hours elapsed. Twilight was just "letting down her curtain and pinning it with a star," as the slavegirl seated

herself on a sofa by the window, and began meditating upon her eventful history, meanwhile watching the

white waves as they seemed to sport with each other in the wake of the noble vessel, with the rising moon

reflecting its silver rays upon the splendid scene, when the foreigner once more appeared near the window.

Although agitated for fear her mistress would see her talking to a stranger, and be angry, Clotelle still thought

she saw something in the countenance of the young man that told her he was sincere, and she did not wish to

"Why persist in your wish to talk with me?" she said, as he again advanced and spoke to her.

"But I am not for sale now," she replied. "My present mistress will not sell me, and if you wished to do so

"Then," said he, "if I cannot buy you, when the steamer reaches Mobile, fly with me, and you shall be free."

"I cannot do it," said Clotelle; and she was just leaving the stranger when he took from his pocket a piece of

After returning to her room, she unfolded the paper, and found, to her utter astonishment that it contained a

one hundred dollar note on the Bank of the United States. The first impulse of the girl was to return the paper

and its contents immediately to the giver, but examining the paper more closely, she saw in faint

pencilmarks, "Remember this is from one who loves you." Another thought was to give it to her mistress,

and she returned to the saloon for that purpose; but on finding Mrs. Taylor engaged in conversation with

Again, therefore, Clotelle seated herself by the window, and again the stranger presented himself. She

immediately took the paper from her pocket, and handed it to him; but he declined taking it, saying,

"Believe that I am sincere, and then you will understand me," returned the young man. "Would you rather be

a slave than be free?" inquired he, with tears that glistened in the rays of the moon.

"Then, if you would be free and happy, go with me. We shall be in Mobile in two hours, and when the

passengers are going on shore, you take my arm. Have your face covered with a veil, and you will not be

observed. We will take passage immediately for France; you can pass as my sister, and I pledge you my

This solemn promise, coupled with what had previously been said, gave Clotelle confidence in the man, and

she instantly determined to go with him. "But then," thought she, "what if I should be detected? I would be

forever ruined, for I would be sold, and in all probability have to end my days on a cotton, rice, or sugar

plantation." However, the thought of freedom in the future outweighed this danger, and her resolve was

Dressing herself in some of her best clothes, and placing her veiled bonnet where she could get it without the

knowledge of her mistress, Clotelle awaited with a heart filled with the deepest emotions and anxiety the

moment when she was to take a step which seemed so rash, and which would either make or ruin her forever.

The ships which Mobile for Europe lie about thirty miles down the bay, and passengers are taken down from

the city in small vessels. The "WalkintheWater" had just made her lines fast, and the passengers were

hurrying on shore, when a tall gentleman with a lady at his side descended the stageplank, and stepped on

THE death of Dr. Morton, on the third day of his illness, came like a shock upon his wife and daughters. The

corpse had scarcely been committed to its mother earth before new and unforeseen difficulties appeared to

them. By the laws of the Slave States, the children follow the condition of their mother. If the mother is free,

the children are free; if a slave, the children are slaves. Being unacquainted with the Southern code, and no

one presuming that Marion had any negro blood in her veins, Dr. Morton had not given the subject a single

thought. The woman whom he loved and regarded as his wife was, after all, nothing more than a slave by the

laws of the State. What would have been his feelings had he known that at his death his wife and children

would be considered as his property? Yet such was the case. Like most men of means at that time, Dr.

Morton was deeply engaged in speculation, and though generally considered wealthy, was very much

After the disease with which Dr. Morton had so suddenly died had to some extent subsided, Mr. James

Morton, a brother of the deceased, went to New Orleans to settle up the estate. On his arrival there, he was

pleased with and felt proud of his nieces, and invited them to return with him to Vermont, little dreaming that

his brother had married a slave, and that his widow and daughters would be claimed as such. The girls

themselves had never heard that their mother had been a slave, and therefore knew nothing of the danger

An inventory of the property of the deceased was made out by Mr. Morton, and placed in the hands of the

creditors. These preliminaries being arranged, the ladies, with their relative, concluded to leave the city and

reside for a few days on the banks of Lake Ponchartrain, where they could enjoy a fresh air that the city did

not afford. As they were about taking the cars, however, an officer arrested the whole partythe ladies as

slaves, and the gentleman upon the charge of attempting to conceal the property of his deceased brother. Mr.

Morton was overwhelmed with horror at the idea of his nieces being claimed as slaves, and asked for time,

that he might save them from such a fate. He even offered to mortgage his little farm in Vermont for the

amount which young slavewomen of their ages would fetch. But the creditors pleaded that they were an

"extra article," and would sell for more than common slaves, and must therefore be sold at auction.

The uncle was therefore compelled to give them up to the officers of the law, and they were separated from

him. Jane, the oldest of the girls, as we have before mentioned, was very handsome, bearing a close

resemblance to her cousin Clotelle. Alreka, though not as handsome as her sister, was nevertheless a beautiful

girl, and both had all the accomplishments that wealth and station could procure.

Though only in her fifteen year, Alreka had become strongly attached to Volney Lapie, a young Frenchman,

a student in her father's office. This attachment was reciprocated, although the poverty of the young man and

the extreme youth of the girl had caused their feelings to be kept from the young lady's parents.

The day of sale came, and Mr. Morton attended, with the hope that either the magnanimity of the creditors or

his own little farm in Vermont might save his nieces from the fate that awaited them. His hope, however, was

in vain. The feelings of all present seemed to be lost in the general wish to become the possessor of the young

ladies, who stood trembling, blushing, and weeping as the numerous throng gazed at them, or as the intended

purchaser examined the graceful proportions of their fair and beautiful frames. Neither the presence of the

uncle nor young Lapie could at all lessen the gross language of the officers, or stay the rude hands of those

who wishes to examine the property thus offered for sale. After a fierce contest between the bidders, the girls

were sold, one for two thousand three hundred, and the other for two thousand three hundred and fifty dollars.

Had these girls been bought for servants only, they would in all probability have brought not more than nine

hundred or a thousand dollars each. Here were two beautiful young girls, accustomed to the fondest

indulgence, surrounded by all the refinements of life, and with the timidity and gentleness which such a life

would naturally produce, bartered away like cattle in the markets of Smithfield or New York.

The mother, who was also to have been sold, happily followed her husband to the grave, and was spared the

The purchaser of the young ladies left the market in triumph, and the uncle, with a heavy heart, started for his

The seizure of the young ladies as slaves was the result of the administrator's having found among Dr.

Morton's papers the billofsale of Marion which he had taken when he purchased her. He had doubtless

intended to liberate her when he married her, but had neglected from time to time to have the proper papers

ON once gaining the wharf, Devenant and Clotelle found no difficulty in securing an immediate passage to

France. The fine packetship Utica lay down the bay, and only awaited the return of the lighter that night to

complete her cargo and list of passengers, ere she departed. The young Frenchman therefore took his prize on

Daylight was just making its appearance the next morning when the Utica weighed anchor and turned her

prow toward the sea. In the course of three hours, the vessel, with outspread sails, was rapidly flying from

land. Everything appeared to be auspicious. The skies were beautifully clear, and the sea calm, with a sun that

dazzled the whole scene. But clouds soon began to chase each other through the heavens, and the sea became

rough. It was then that Clotelle felt that there was hoped of escaping. She had hitherto kept in the cabin, but

now she expressed a wish to come on deck. The hanging clouds were narrowing the horizon to a span, and

gloomily mingling with the rising surges. The old and gravelooking seamen shook their weatherwise heads

As Clotelle came on deck, she strained her eyes in vain to catch a farewell view of her native land. With a

"Farewell, farewell to the land of my birth, and welcome, welcome, ye dark blue waves. I care not where I

'Where a tyrant never trod, Where a slave was never known, But where nature worships God, If in the

Devenant stood by her side, seeming proud of his future wife, with his face in a glow at his success, while

over his noble brow clustering locks of glossy black hair were hanging in careless ringlets. His finelycut,

The winds increased with nightfall, and impenetrable gloom surrounded the ship. The prospect was too

uncheering, even to persons in love. The attention which Devenant paid to Clotelle, although she had been

registered on the ship's passenger list as his sister, caused more than one to look upon his as an agreeable

travelling companion. His tall, slender figure and fine countenance bespoke for him at first sight one's

confidence. That he was sincerely and deeply enamored of Clotelle all could see.

The weather became still more squally. The wind rushed through the white, foaming waves, and the ship

groaned with its own wild and ungovernable labors, while nothing could be seen but the wild waste of waters.

Day came and went without any abatement of the storm. Despair was now on every countenance.

Occasionally a vivid flash of lightning would break forth and illuminate the black and boiling surges that

surrounded the vessel, which was now scudding before the blast under bare poles.

After five days of most intensely stormy weather, the sea settled down into a dead calm, and the passengers

flocked on deck. During the last three days of the storm, Clotelle had been so unwell as to be unable to raise

her head. Her pale face and quivering lips and languid appearance made her look as if every pulsation had

ceased. Her magnificent large and soft eyes, fringed with lashes as dark as night, gave her an angelic

appearance. The unreserved attention of Devenant, even when seasick himself, did much to increase the

little love that the at first distrustful girl had placed in him. The heart must always have some object on which

to centre its affections, and Clotelle having lost all hope of ever again seeing Jerome, it was but natural that

she should now transfer her love to one who was so greatly befriending her. At first she respected Devenant

for the love he manifested for her, and for his apparent willingness to make any sacrifice for her welfare.

True, this was an adventure upon which she had risked her all, and should her heart be foiled in this search

for hidden treasures, her affections would be shipwrecked forever. She felt under great obligations to the man

who had thus effected her escape, and that noble act alone would entitle him to her love.

Each day became more pleasant as the noble ship sped onward amid the rippled spray. The whistling of the

breeze through the rigging was music to the ear, and brought gladness to the heart of every one on board. At

last, the long suspense was broken by the appearance of land, at which all hearts leaped for joy. It was a

beautiful morning in October. The sun had just risen, and sky and earth were still bathed in his soft, rosy

glow, when the Utica hauled into the dock at Bordeaux. The splendid streets, beautiful bridges, glittering

equipages, and smiling countenances of the people, gave everything a happy appearance, after a voyage of

After getting their baggage cleared from the customhouse and going to a hotel, Devenant made immediate

arrangements for the marriage. Clotelle, on arriving at the church where the ceremony was to take place, was

completely overwhelmed at the spectacle. She had never beheld a scene so gorgeous as this. The magnificent

dresses of the priests and choristers, the deep and solemn voices, the elevated crucifix, the burning tapers, the

splendidly decorated altar, the sweetsmelling incense, made the occasion truly an imposing one. At the

conclusion of the ceremony, the loud and solemn peals of the organ's swelling anthem were lost to all in the

The happy couple set out at once for Dunkirk, the residence of the bridegroom's parents. But their stay there

was short, for they had scarcely commenced visiting the numerous friends of the husband ere orders came for

him to proceed to India to join that portion of the French army then stationed there.

In due course of time they left for India, passing through Paris and Lyons, taking ship at Marseilles. In the

metropolis of France, they spent a week, where the husband took delight in introducing his wife to his brother

officers in the French army, and where the newlymarried couple were introduced to Louis Philippe, then

King of France. In all of these positions, Clotelle sustained herself in a most ladylike manner.

At Lyons, they visited the vast factories and other public works, and all was pleasure with them. The voyage

from Marseilles to Calcutta was very pleasant, as the weather was exceedingly fine. On arriving in India,

Captain Devenant and lady were received with honorsthe former for his heroic bravery in more than one

battle, and the latter for her fascinating beauty and pleasing manners, and the fact that she was connected with

one who was a general favorite with all who had his acquaintance. This was indeed a great change for

Clotelle. Six months had not elapsed since her exposure in the slavemarket of New Orleans. This life is a

MOUNTED on a fast horse, with the Quaker's son for a guide, Jerome pressed forward while Uncle Joseph

was detaining the slavecatchers at the barndoor, through which the fugitive had just escaped. When out of

present danger, fearing that suspicion might be aroused if he continued on the road in open day, Jerome

buried himself in a thick, dark forest until nightfall. With a yearning heart, he saw the splendor of the setting

sun lingering on the hills, as if loath to fade away and be lost in the more sombre hues of twilight, which,

rising from the east, was slowly stealing over the expanse of heaven, bearing silence and repose, which

Wearily and alone, with nothing but the hope of safety before him to cheer him on his way, the poor fugitive

urged his tired and trembling limbs forward for several nights. The new suit of clothes with which he had

provided himself when he made his escape from his captors, and the twenty dollars which the young Quaker

had slipped into his hand, when bidding him "Fare thee well," would enable him to appear genteelly as soon

as he dared to travel by daylight, and would thus facilitate his progress toward freedom.

It was late in the evening when the fugitive slave arrived at a small town on the banks of Lake Erie, where he

was to remain over night. How strange were his feelings! While his heart throbbed for that freedom and

safety which Canada alone could furnish to the whipscarred slave, on the American continent, his thoughts

were with Clotelle. Was she still in prison, and if so, what would be her punishment for aiding him to escape

from prison? Would he ever behold her again? These were the thoughts that followed him to his pillow,

The alarm of fire aroused the inmates of the hotel in which Jerome had sought shelter for the night from the

deep sleep into which they had fallen. The whole village was buried in slumber, and the building was half

consumed before the frightened inhabitants had reached the scene of the conflagration. The wind was high,

and the burning embers were wafted like so many rockets through the sky. The whole town was lighted up,

and the cries of women and children in the streets made the scene a terrific one. Jerome heard the alarm, and

hastily dressing himself, he went forth and hastened toward the burning building.

"There,there in that room in the second story, is my child!" exclaimed a woman, wringing her hands, and

The broad sheets of fire were flying in the direction of the chamber in which the child was sleeping, and all

hope of its being saved seemed gone. Occasionally the wind would life the pall of smoke, and show that the

work of destruction was not yet complete. At last a long ladder was brought, and one end placed under the

window of the room. A moment more and a bystander mounted the ladder and ascended in haste to the

window. The smoke met him as he raised the sash, and he cried out, "All is lost!" and returned to the ground

Another sweep of the wind showed that the destroying element had not yet made its final visit to that part of

the doomed building. The mother, seeing that all hope of again meeting her child in this world was gone,

At this juncture, a man was seen to mount the ladder, and ascend with great rapidity. All eyes were instantly

turned to the figure of this unknown individual as it disappeared in the cloud of smoke escaping from the

window. Those who a moment before had been removing furniture, as well as the idlers who had congregated

at the ringing of the bells, assembled at the foot of the ladder, and awaited with breathless silence the

reappearance of the stranger, who, regardless of his own safety, had thus risked his life to save another's.

Three cheers broke the stillness that had fallen on the company, as the brave man was seen coming through

the window and slowly descending to the ground holding under one arm the inanimate form of the child.

Another cheer and then another, made the welkin ring, as the stranger, with hair burned and eyebrows closely

The stranger was Jerome. As soon as he revived, he shrunk from every eye, as if he feared they would take

The next day, the fugitive took a vessel, and the following morning found himself standing on the free soil of

Canada. As his foot pressed the shore, he threw himself upon his face, kissed the earth, and exclaimed, "O

THE history of the African race is God's illuminated clock, set in the dark steeple of time. The negro has been

made the hewer of wood and the drawer of water for nearly all other nations. The people of the United States,

however, will have an account to settle with God, owing to their treatment of the negro, which will far

Jerome, on reaching Canada, felt for the first time that personal freedom which God intended that all who

bore his image should enjoy. That same forgetfulness of self which had always characterized him now caused

him to think of others. The thoughts of dear ones in slavery were continually in his mind, and above all

others, Clotelle occupied his thoughts. Now that he was free, he could better appreciate her condition as a

slave. Although Jerome met, on his arrival in Canada, numbers who had escaped from the Southern States, he

nevertheless shrank from all society, particularly that of females. The soft, silvergray tints on the leaves of

the trees, with their snowspotted trunks, and a biting air, warned the newborn freeman that he was in

another climate. Jerome sought work, and soon found it; and arranged with his employer that the latter should

go to Natchez in search of Clotelle. The good Scotchman, for whom the fugitive was laboring, freely offered

to go down and purchase the girl, if she could be bought, and let Jerome pay him in work. With such a

prospect of future happiness in view, this injured descendent of outraged and bleeding Africa went daily to

his toil with an energy hitherto unknown to him. But oh, how vain are the hopes of man!

THREE months had elapsed, from the time the fugitive commenced work for Mr. Streeter, when that

gentleman returned from his Southern research, and informed Jerome that Parson Wilson had sold Clotelle,

This intelligence fell with crushing weight upon the heart of Jerome, and he now felt that the last chain which

bound him to his native land was severed. He therefore determined to leave America forever. His nearest and

dearest friends had often been flogged in his very presence, and he had seen his mother sold to the

negrotrader. An only sister had been torn from him by the souldriver; he had himself been sold and resold,

and been compelled to submit to the most degrading and humiliating insults; and now that the woman upon

whom his heart doted, and without whom life was a burden, had been taken away forever, he felt it a duty to

If there is one thing more than another calculated to make one hate and detest American slavery, it is to

witness the meetings between fugitives and their friends in Canada. Jerome had beheld some of these scenes.

The wife who, after years of separation, had escaped from her prisonhouse and followed her husband had

told her story to him. He had seen the newlyarrived wife rush into the arms of the husband, whose dark face

she had not looked upon for long, weary years. Some told of how a sister had been illused by the overseer;

others of a husband's being whipped to death for having attempted to protect his wife. He had sat in the little

loghut, by the fireside, and heard tales that caused his heart to bleed; and his bosom swelled with just

indignation when he though that there was no remedy for such atrocious acts. It was with such feelings that

In vain did Mr. Streeter try to persuade Jerome to remain with him; and late in the month of February, the

latter found himself on board a small vessel loaded with pinelumber, descending the St. Lawrence, bound

for Liverpool. The bark, though an old one, was, nevertheless, considered seaworthy, and the fugitive was

working his way out. As the vessel left the river and gained the open sea, the black man appeared to rejoice at

the prospect of leaving a country in which his right to manhood had been denied him, and his happiness

The wind was proudly swelling the white sails, and the little craft plunging into the foaming waves, with the

land fast receding in the distance, when Jerome mounted a pile of lumber to take a last farewell of his native

land. With tears glistening in his eyes, and with quivering lips, he turned his gaze toward the shores that were

"Though forced from my native land by the tyrants of the South, I hope I shall some day be able to return.

THE rain was falling on the dirty pavements of Liverpool as Jerome left the vessel after her arrival. Passing

Finding no employment in Liverpool, Jerome determined to go into the interior and seek for work. He,

therefore, called for his bill, and made ready for his departure. Although but four days at the Albion, he found

the hotel charges larger than he expected; but a stranger generally counts on being "fleeced" in travelling

through the Old World, and especially in Great Britain. After paying his bill, he was about leaving the room,

"I thought I had paid my bill," replied the man, somewhat surprised at this polite dun.

Taking from his pocket his nearly empty purse, Jerome handed the man a halfcrown; but he had hardly

restored it to his pocket, before his eye fell on another man in the waiting costume.

The purse was again taken from the pocket, and another halfcrown handed out. Stepping out into the hall, he

saw standing there a goodlooking woman, in a white apron, who made a very pretty courtesy.

Out came the purse again, and was relieved of another halfcrown; whereupon another girl, with a

Finding it easier to give shillings than halfcrowns, Jerome handed the woman a shilling, and again restored

Scarcely had he commenced congratulating himself, however, before three men made their appearance, one

The purse came out once more, and a shilling was deposited in the servant's hand.

"In the name of the Lord, what am I indebted to you for?" demanded Jerome, now entirely out of patience,

"Well!" exclaimed the indignant man, "ask here who o'clock it is, and you have got to pay for it."

He paid this last demand with a sixpence, regretting that he had not commenced with sixpences instead of

Having cleared off all demands in the house, he started for the railway station; but had scarcely reached the

street, before he was accosted by an old man with a broom in his hand, who, with an exceedingly low bow,

"I is the man what opened your lordship's cabdoor, when your lordship came to the house on Monday last,

Putting a sixpence in the old man's hand, Jerome once more started for the depot. Having obtained letters of

introduction to persons in Manchester, he found no difficulty in getting a situation in a large manufacturing

house there. Although the salary was small, yet the situation was a much better one than he had hoped to

obtain. His compensation as outdoor clerk enabled him to employ a man to teach him at night, and, by

After three years in his new home, Jerome was placed in a still higher position, where his salary amounted to

fifteen hundred dollars a year. The drinking, smoking, and other expensive habits, which the clerks usually

Being fond of poetry, he turned his attention to literature. Johnson's "Lives of the Poets," the writings of

Dryden, Addison, Pope, Clarendon, and other authors of celebrity, he read with attention. The knowledge

which he thus picked up during his leisure hours gave him a great advantage over the other clerks, and caused

his employers to respect him far more than any other in their establishment. So eager was he to improve the

time that he determined to see how much he could read during the unemployed time of night and morning,

BROKEN down in health, after ten years of close confinement in his situation, Jerome resolved to give it up,

and thereby release himself from an employment which seemed calculated to send him to a premature grave.

It was on a beautiful morning in summer that he started for Scotland, having made up his mind to travel for

his health. After visiting Edinburgh and Glasgow, he concluded to spend a few days in the old town of Perth,

with a friend whose acquaintance he had made in Manchester. During the second day of his stay in Perth,

while crossing the main street, Jerome saw a ponychaise coming toward him with great speed. A lady, who

appeared to be the only occupant of the vehicle, was using her utmost strength to stop the frightened horses.

The footman, in his fright, had leaped from behind the carriage, and was following with the crowd. With that

selfforgetfulness which was one of his chief characteristics, Jerome threw himself before the horses to stop

them; and, seizing the highspirited animals by the bit, as they dashed by him, he was dragged several rods

before their speed was checked, which was not accomplished until one of the horses had fallen to the ground,

All present were satisfied that this daring act alone had saved the lady's life, for the chaise must inevitably

have been dashed in pieces, had the horses not been thus suddenly checked in their mad career.

On the morning following this perilous adventure, Col. G called at Jerome's temporary residence, and,

after expressing his admiration for his noble daring, and thanking him for having saved his daughter's life,

invited him to visit him at his country residence. This invitation was promptly accepted in the spirit in which

it was given; and three days after, Jerome found himself at the princely residence of the father of the lady for

whose safety he had risked his own life. The house was surrounded by fine trees, and a sweet little stream ran

murmuring at the foot, while beds of flowers on every hand shed their odors on the summer air. It was,

indeed, a pleasant place to spend the warm weather, and the colonel and his family gave Jerome a most

cordial welcome. Miss G. showed especial attention to the stranger. He had not intended remaining longer

than the following day: but the family insisted on his taking part in a foxhunt that was to come off on the

morning of the third day. Wishing to witness a scene as interesting as the chase usually proves to be, he

Fifteen persons, five of whom were ladies, were on the ground at the appointed hour. Miss G. was, of course,

one of the party. In vain Jerome endeavored to excuse himself from joining in the chase. His plea of

illhealth was only met by smiles from the young ladies, and the reply that a ride would effect a cure.

Dressed in a scarlet coat and high boots, with the low, round cap worn in the chase, Jerome mounted a

highspirited horse, whip in hand, and made himself one of the party. In America, riding is a necessity; in

England, it is a pleasure. Young men and women attend ridingschool in our fatherland, and consider that

they are studying a science. Jerome was no rider. He had not been on horseback for more than ten years, and

as soon as he mounted, every one saw that he was a novice, and a smile was on the countenance of each

The blowing of the horn, and assembling of the hounds, and finally the release of the fox from his close

prison, were the signals for the chase to commence. The first halfmile the little animal took his course over

a beautiful field where there was neither hedge nor ditch. Thus far the chase was enjoyed by all, even by the

American rider, who was better fitted to witness the scene than to take part in it.

We left Jerome in our last reluctantly engaged in the chase; and though the first mile or so of the pursuit,

which was over smooth meadowland, had had an exhilarating effect upon his mind, and tended somewhat to

relieve him of the embarrassment consequent upon his position, he nevertheless still felt that he was far from

being in his proper element. Besides, the fox had now made for a dense forest which lay before, and he saw

Away went the huntsmen, over stone walls, high fences, and deep ditches. Jerome saw the ladies even leading

the gentlemen, but this could not inspire him. They cleared the fences, four and five feet high with perfect

ease, showing they were quite at home in the saddle. But alas for the poor American! As his fine steed came

up to the first fence, and was about to make the leap, Jerome pulled at the bridle, and cried at the top of his

voice, "Whoa! whoa! whoa!" the horse at the same time capering about, and appearing determined to keep up

Away dashed the huntsmen, following the hounds, and all were soon lost to the view of their colored

companion. Jerome rode up and down the field looking for a gate or bars, that he might get through without

risking his neck. Finding, however, that all hope of again catching up with the party was out of the question,

he determined to return to the house, under a plea of sudden illness, and back he accordingly went.

"I hope no accident has happened to your honor," said the groom, as he met our hero at the gate.

One of the servants, without being ordered, went at once for the family physician. Ashamed to own that his

return was owing to his inability to ride, Jerome resolved to feign sickness. The doctor came, felt his pulse,

examined his tongue, and pronounced him a sick man. He immediately ordered a tepid bath, and sent for a

Seeing things taking such a serious turn, the American began to regret the part he was playing; for there was

no fun in being rubbed and leeched when one was in perfect health. He had gone too far to recede, however,

and so submitted quietly to the directions of the doctor; and, after following the injunctions given by that

Shortly after, the sound of the horns and the yelp of the hounds announced that the poor fox had taken the

back track, and was repassing near the house. Even the pleasure of witnessing the beautiful sight from the

window was denied our hero; for the physician had ordered that he must be kept in perfect quiet.

The chase was at last over, and the huntsmen all in, sympathizing with their lost companion. After nine days

of sweating, blistering, and leeching, Jerome left his bed convalescent, but much reduced in flesh and

During his fortnight's stay at Colonel G.', Jerome spent most of his time in the magnificent library. Claude did

not watch with more interest every color of the skies, the trees, the grass, and the water, to learn from nature,

than did this son of a despised race search books to obtain that knowledge which his early life as a slave had

AFTER more than a fortnight spent in the highlands of Scotland, Jerome passed hastily through London on

It was toward sunset, on a warm day in October, shortly after his arrival in France, that, after strolling some

distance from the Hotel de Leon, in the old and picturesque town of Dunkirk, he entered a

burialgroundsuch places being always favorite walks with himand wandered around among the silent

dead. All nature around was hushed in silence, and seemed to partake of the general melancholy that hung

over the quiet restingplace of the departed. Even the birds seemed imbued with the spirit of the place, for

they were silent, either flying noiselessly over the graves, or jumping about in the tall grass. After tracing the

various inscriptions that told the characters and conditions of the deceased, and viewing the mounds beneath

which the dust of mortality slumbered, he arrived at a secluded spot near where an aged weeping willow

bowed its thick foliage to the ground, as though anxious to hide from the scrutinizing gaze of curiosity the

grave beneath it. Jerome seated himself on a marble tombstone, and commenced reading from a book which

he had carried under his arm. It was now twilight, and he had read but a few minutes when he observed a

lady, attired in deep black, and leading a boy, apparently some five or six years old, coming up one of the

beautiful, winding paths. As the lady's veil was drawn closely over her face, he felt somewhat at liberty to eye

her more closely. While thus engaged, the lady gave a slight scream, and seemed suddenly to have fallen into

a fainting condition. Jerome sprang from his seat, and caught her in time to save her from falling to the

At this moment an elderly gentleman, also dressed in black, was seen approaching with a hurried step, which

seemed to indicate that he was in some way connected with the lady. The old man came up, and in rather a

confused manner inquired what had happened, and Jerome explained matters as well as he was able to do so.

After taking up the vinaigrette, which had fallen from her hand, and holding the bottle a short time to her

face, the lady began to revive. During all this time, the veil had still partly covered the face of the fair one, so

that Jerome had scarcely seen it. When she had so far recovered as to be able to look around her, she raised

herself slightly, and again screamed and swooned. The old man now feeling satisfied that Jerome's dark

complexion was the immediate cause of the catastrophe, said in a somewhat petulant tone,

The little boy at this juncture set up a loud cry, and amid the general confusion, Jerome left the ground and

While seated at the window of his room looking out upon the crowded street, with every now and then the

strange scene in the graveyard vividly before him, Jerome suddenly thought of the book he had been reading,

and, remembering that he had left it on the tombstone, where he dropped it when called to the lady's

After a walk of some twenty minutes, he found himself again in the burialground and on the spot where he

had been an hour before. The pensive moon was already up, and its soft light was sleeping on the little pond

at the back of the grounds, while the stars seemed smiling at their own sparkling rays gleaming up from the

Jerome searched in vain for his book; it was nowhere to be found. Nothing, save the bouquet that the lady had

dropped, and which lay halfburied in the grass, from having been trodden upon, indicated that any one had

been there that evening. The stillness of death reigned over the place; even the little birds, that had before

Taking up the bunch of flowers, Jerome returned to his hotel. "What can this mean?" he would ask himself;

"and why should they take my book?" These questions he put to himself again and again during his walk. His

sleep was broken more than once that night, and he welcomed the early dawn as it made its appearance.

AFTER passing a sleepless night, and hearing the clock strike six, Jerome took from his table a book, and

thus endeavored to pass away the hours before breakfasttime. While thus engaged, a servant entered and

"SIR,I owe you an apology for the abrupt manner in which I addressed you last evening, and the

inconvenience to which you were subjected by some of my household. If you will honor us with your

presence today at four o'clock, I will be most happy to give you due satisfaction. My servant will be waiting

Who this gentleman was, and how he had found out his name and the hotel at which he was stopping, were

alike mysteries to Jerome. And this note seemed to his puzzled brain like a challenge. "Satisfaction?" He had

not asked for satisfaction. However, he resolved to accept the invitation, and, if need be, meet the worst. At

The clock on a neighboring church had scarcely finished striking three when a servant announced to Jerome

that a carriage had called for him. In a few minutes, he was seated in a sumptuous barouche, drawn by a pair

of beautiful irongrays, and rolling over a splendid gravel road entirely shaded by trees, which appeared to

have been the accumulated growth of many centuries. The carriage soon stopped at a low villa, which was

Jerome alighted, and was shown into a superb room, with the walls finely decorated with splendid tapestry,

and the ceilings exquisitely frescoed. The walls were hung with fine specimens from the hands of the great

Italian masters, and one by a German artist, representing a beautiful monkish legend connected with the

"Holy Catharine," an illustrious lady of Alexandria. Highbacked chairs stood around the room, rich curtains

of crimson damask hung in folds on either side of the window, and a beautiful, rick, Turkey carpet covered

the floor. In the centre of the room stood a table covered with books, in the midst of which was a vase of

fresh flowers, loading the atmosphere with their odors. A faint light, together with the quiet of the hour, gave

beauty beyond description to the whole scene. A halfopen door showed a fine marble floor to an adjoining

room, with pictures, statues, and antiquated sofas, and flowerpots filled with rare plants of every kind and

Jerome had scarcely run his eyes over the beauties of the room when the elderly gentleman whom he had met

on the previous evening made his appearance, followed by the little boy, and introduced himself as Mr.

Devenant. A moment more and a lady, a beautiful brunette, dressed in black, with long black curls hanging

over her shoulders, entered the room. Her dark, bright eyes flashed as she caught the first sight of Jerome.

The gentleman immediately arose on the entrance of the lady, and Mr. Devenant was in the act of introducing

the stranger when he observed that Jerome had sunk back upon the sofa, in a faint voice exclaiming,

After this, all was dark and dreary. How long he remained in this condition, it was for others to tell. The lady

knelt by his side and wept; and when he came to, he found himself stretched upon the sofa with his boots off

and his head resting upon a pillow. By his side sat the old man, with the smellingbottle in one hand and a

glass of water in the other, while the little boy stood at the foot of the sofa. As soon as Jerome had so far

After the lapse of some ten minutes, Jerome arose from the sofa, adjusted his apparel, and said,

"The lady whom you met so mysteriously last evening was she," said Mr. Devenant.

Jerome was silent, but the fountain of mingled grief and joy stole out from beneath his eyelashes, and

At this juncture, the lady again entered the room. With an enthusiasm that can be better imagined than

described, Jerome sprang from the sofa, and they rushed into each other's arms, to the great surprise of the old

gentleman and little Antoine, and to the amusement of the servants who had crept up, one by one and were

hid behind the doors or loitering in the hall. When they had given vent to their feelings and sufficiently

"After you had left the graveyard," replied Clotelle, "our little boy said, 'Oh, mamma! if there ain't a book!' I

opened the book, and saw your name written in it, and also found a card of the Hotel de Leon. Papa wished to

leave the book, and said it was only a fancy of mine that I had ever seen you before; but I was perfectly

As she uttered the last words, tearsthe sweet bright tears that love alone can bring forthbedewed her

"Are you married?" now inquired Clotelle, with a palpitating heart and trembling voice.

It was then that hope gleamed up amid the crushed and broken flowers of her heart, and a bright flash darted

Her dark, rich hair had partly come down, and hung still more loosely over her shoulders than when she first

appeared; and her eyes, now full of animation and vivacity, and her sweet, harmonious, and wellmodulated

voice, together with her modesty, selfpossession, and engaging manners, made Clotelle appear lovely

beyond description. Although past the age when men ought to think of matrimony, yet the scene before Mr.

Devenant brought vividly to his mind the time when he was young and had a loving bosom companion

living, and tears were wiped from the old man's eyes. A new world seemed to unfold itself before the eyes of

the happy lovers, and they were completely absorbed in contemplating the future. Furnished by nature with a

disposition to study, and a memory so retentive that all who knew her were surprised at the ease with which

she acquired her education and general information, Clotelle might now be termed a most accomplished lady.

After her marriage with young Devenant, they proceeded to India, where the husband's regiment was

stationed. Soomn after their arrival, however, a battle was fought with the natives, in which several officers

fell, among whom was Captain Devenant. The father of the young captain being there at the time, took his

daughterinlaw and brought her back to France, where they took up their abode at the old homestead. Old

Mr. Devenant was possessed of a large fortune, all of which he intended for his daughterinlaw and her

Although Clotelle had married young Devenant, she had not forgotten her first love, and her fatherinlaw

now willingly gave his consent to her marriage with Jerome. Jerome felt that to possess the woman of his

love, even at that late hour, was compensation enough for the years that he had been separated from her, and

Clotelle wanted no better evidence of his love for her than the fact of his having remained so long unmarried.

It was indeed a rare instance of devotion and constancy in a man, and the young widow gratefully appreciated

It was late in the evening when Jerome led his intended bride to the window, and the magnificent moonlight

illuminated the countenance of the lovely Clotelle, while inward sunshine, emanating from a mind at ease,

and her own virtuous thoughts, gave brightness to her eyes and made her appear a very angel. This was the

first evening that Jerome had been in her company since the night when, to effect his escape from prison, she

disguised herself in male attire. How different the scene now. Free instead of slaves, wealthy instead of poor,

and on the eve of an event that seemed likely to result in a life of happiness to both.

IT was a bright day in the latter part of October that Jerome and Clotelle set out for the church, where the

marriage ceremony was to be performed. The clear, bracing air added buoyancy to every movement, and the

sun poured its brilliant rays through the deeplystained windows, as the happy couple entered the sanctuary,

followed by old Mr. Devenant, whose form, bowed down with age, attracted almost as much attention from

As the ceremonies were finished and the priest pronounced the benediction on the newlymarried pair,

"'No power in death shall tear our names apart, As none in life could rend thee from my heart.'"

A smile beamed on every face as the weddingparty left the church and entered their carriage. What a happy

day, after ten years' separation, when, both hearts having been blighted for a time, they are brought together

Everything being arranged for a wedding tour extending up the Rhine, the party set out the same day for

Antwerp. There are many rivers of greater length and width than the Rhine. Our Mississippi would swallow

up half a dozen Rhines. The Hudson is grander, the Tiber, the Po, and the Mincio more classic; the Thames

and Seine bear upon their waters greater amounts of wealth and commerce; the Nile and the Euphrates have a

greater antiquity; but for a combination of interesting historical incidents and natural scenery, the Rhine

surpasses them all. Nature has so ordained it that those who travel in the valley of the Rhine shall see the

river, for there never will be a railroad upon its banks. So mountainous is the land that it would have to be

one series of tunnels. Every three or four miles from the time you enter this glorious river, hills, dales, castles,

Their first restingplace for any length of time was at Coblentz, at the mouth of the "Blue Moselle," the most

interesting place on the river. From Coblentz they went to Brussels, where they had the greatest attention paid

them. Besides being provided with letters of introduction, Jerome's complexion secured for him more

Having letters of introduction to M. Deceptiax, the great lace manufacturer, that gentleman received them

with distinguished honors, and gave them a splendid soiree, at which the elite of the city were assembled. The

sumptuouslyfurnished mansion was lavishly decorated for the occasion, and every preparation made that

Jerome, with his beautiful bride, next visited Cologne, the largest and wealthiest city on the banks of the

Rhine. The Cathedral of Cologne is the most splendid structure of the kind in Europe, and Jerome and

Clotelle viewed with interest the beautiful arches and columns of this stupendous building, which strikes with

awe the beholder, as he gazes at its unequalled splendor, surrounded, as it is, by villas, cottages, and

palacelike mansions, with the enchanting Rhine winding through the vinecovered hills.

After strolling over miles and miles of classic ground, and visiting castles, whose legends and traditions have

given them an enduring fame, our delighted travellers started for Geneva, bidding the picturesque banks of

the Rhine a regretful farewell. Being much interested in literature, and aware that Geneva was noted for

having been the city of refuge to the victims of religious and political persecution, Jerome arranged to stay

here for some days. He was provided with a letter of introduction to M. de Stee, who had been a

fellowsoldier of Mr. Devenant in the East India wars, and they were invited to make his house their home

during their sojourn. On the side of a noble mountain, whose base is kissed by the waves of Lake Geneva,

and whose slopes are decked with verdure to the utmost peak of its rocky crown, is situated the delightful

countryresidence of this wealthy, retired French officer. A winding road, with frequent climbs and brakes,

leads from the valley to this enchanting spot, the air and scenery of which cannot be surpassed in the world.

THE clouds that had skirted the sky during the day broke at last, and the rain fell in torrents, as Jerome and

Clotelle retired for the night, in the little town of Ferney, on the borders of Lake Leman. The peals of thunder,

and flashes of vivid lightening, which seemed to leap from mountain to mountain and from crag to crag,

"I would we were back at Geneva," said Clotelle, as she heard groans issuing from an adjoining room. The

sounds, at first faint, grew louder and louder, plainly indicating that some person was suffering extreme pain.

"I did not like this hotel, much, when we came in," said Jerome, relighting the lamp, which had been

The shrieks increased, and an occasional "she's dead!" "I killed her!" "No, she is not dead!" and suchlike

The thunder grew louder, and the flashes of lightening more vivid, while the noise from the sickroom

As Jerome opened the door, to learn, if possible, the cause of the cries and groans, he could distinguish the

words, "She's dead! yes, she's dead! but I did not kill her. She was my child! my own daughter. I loved her,

"Whoever he is," said Jerome, "he's crackbrained; some robber, probably, from the mountains."

The storm continued to rage, and the loud peals of thunder and sharp flashes of lightening, together with the

shrieks and moans of the maniac in the adjoining room, made the night a fearful one. The long hours wore

slowly away, but neither Jerome nor his wife could sleep, and they arose at an early hour in the morning,

"I am sorry, sir, that you were so much disturbed by the sick man last night," said the landlord, as he handed

Jerome his bill. "I should be glad if he would get able to go away, or die, for he's a deal of trouble to me.

"Where is he from?" inquired Jerome. "He's from the United States, and has been here a week today, and

Jerome related to his wife what he had learned from the landlord, respecting the sick man, and the

intelligence impressed her so strongly, that she requested him to make further inquiries concerning the

He therefore consulted the book in which guests usually register their names, and, to his great surprise, found

It was with feelings of trepidation that Clotelle heard these particulars from the lips of her husband.

"We must see this poor man, whoever he is," said she, as Jerome finished the sentence.

The landlord was glad to hear that his guests felt some interest in the sick man, and promised that the

The clock in the hall was just striking ten, as Jerome passed through and entered the sick man's chamber.

Stretched upon a mattress, with both hands tightly bound to the bedstead, the friendless stranger was indeed a

pitiful sight. His dark, dishevelled hair prematurely gray, his long, unshaven beard, and the wildness of the

eyes which glanced upon them as they opened the door and entered, caused the faint hope which had so

suddenly risen in Clotelle's heart, to sink, and she felt that this man could claim no kindred with her.

Certainly, he bore no resemblance to the man whom she had called her father, and who had fondly dandled

"Help!" cried the poor man, as Jerome and his wife walked into the room. His eyes glared, and shriek after

"No, I did not kill my daughter!I did not! she is not dead! Yes, she is dead! but I did not kill herpoor

girl! Look! that is she! No, it cannot be! she cannot come here! it cannot be my poor Clotelle."

At the sound of her own name, coming from the maniac's lips, Clotelle gasped for breath, and her husband

saw that she had grown deadly pale. It seemed evident to him that the man was either guilty of some terrible

act, or imagined himself to be. His eyeballs rolled in their sockets, and his features showed that he was

undergoing "the tortures of that inward hell," which seemed to set his whole brain on fire. After recovering

her selfpossession and strength, Clotelle approached the bedside, and laid her soft hand upon the stranger's

One long, loud shriek rang out on the air, and a piercing cry, "It is she!Yes, it is she! I see, I see! Ah! no, it

is not my daughter! She would not come to me if she could!" broke forth from him.

"I am your daughter," said Clotelle, as she pressed her handkerchief to her face, and sobbed aloud.

Like balls of fire, the poor man's eyes rolled and glared upon the company, while large drops of perspiration

ran down his pale and emaciated face. Strange as the scene appeared, all present saw that it was indeed a

meeting between a father and his longlost daughter. Jerome now ordered all present to leave the room,

except the nurse, and every effort was at once made to quiet the sufferer. When calm, a joyous smile would

illuminate the sick man's face, and a strange light beam in his eyes, as he seemed to realize that she who

For two long days and nights did Clotelle watch at the bedside of her father before he could speak to her

intelligently. Sometimes, in his insane fits, he would rave in the most frightful manner, and then, in a few

moments, would be as easily governed as a child. At last, however, after a long and apparently refreshing

sleep, he awoke suddenly to a full consciousness that it was indeed his daughter who was watching so

The presence of his long absent child had a soothing effect upon Mr. Linwood, and he now recovered rapidly

from the sad and almost hopeless condition in which she had found him. When able to converse, without

danger of a relapse, he told Clotelle of his fruitless efforts to obtain a clew to her whereabouts after old Mrs.

Miller had sold her to the slavetrader. In answer to his daughter's inquiries about his family affairs up to the

"I blamed my wife for your being sold and sent away, for I thought she and her mother were acting in

collusion; But I afterwards found that I had blamed her wrongfully. Poor woman! she knew that I loved your

mother, and feeling herself forsaken, she grew melancholy and died in a decline three years ago."

Here both father and daughter wept at the thought of other days. When they had recovered their composure,

"Old Mrs. Miller," said he, "after the death of Gertrude, aware that she had contributed much toward her

unhappiness, took to the free use of intoxicating drinks, and became the most brutal creature that ever lived.

She whipped her slaves without the slightest provocation, and seemed to take delight in inventing new

tortures with which to punish them. One night last winter, after having flogged one of her slaves nearly to

death, she returned to her room, and by some means the bedding took fire, and the house was in flames before

any one was awakened. There was no one in the building at the time but the old woman and the slaves, and

although the latter might have saved their mistress, they made no attempt to do so. Thus, after a frightful

career of many years, this hardhearted woman died a most miserable death, unlamented by a single person."

Clotelle wiped the tears from her eyes, as her father finished this story, for, although Mrs. Miller had been her

"My peace of mind destroyed," resumed the father, "and broken down in health, my physician advised me to

travel, with the hope of recruiting myself, and I sailed from New York two months ago."

Being brought up in America, and having all the prejudice against color which characterizes his white

fellowcountrymen, Mr. Linwood very much regretted that his daughter, although herself tinctured with

African blood, should have married a black man, and he did not fail to express to her his dislike of her

"I married him," said Clotelle, "because I loved him. Why should the white man be esteemed as better than

the black? I find no difference in men on account of their complexion. One of the cardinal principles of

Every day Mr. Linwood became more and more familiar with Jerome, and eventually they were on the most

Fifteen days from the time that Clotelle was introduced into her father's room, they left Ferney for Geneva.

Many were the excursions Clotelle made under the shadows of Mont Blanc, and with her husband and father

AWARE that her father was still a slaveowner, Clotelle determined to use all her persuasive power to

induce him to set them free, and in this effort she found a substantial supporter in her husband.

"I have always treated my slaves well," said Mr. Linwood to Jerome, as the latter expressed his abhorrence of

the system; "and my neighbors, too, are generally good men; for slavery in Virginia is not like slavery in the

other States," continued the proud son of the Old Dominion. "Their right to be free, Mr. Linwood," said

Jerome, "is taken from them, and they have no security for their comfort, but the humanity and generosity of

men, who have been trained to regard them not as brethren, but as mere property. Humanity and generosity

are, at best, but poor guaranties for the protection of those who cannot assert their rights, and over whom law

It was with pleasure that Clotelle obtained from her father a promise that he would liberate all his slaves on

his return to Richmond. In a beautiful little villa, situated in a pleasant spot, fringed with hoary rocks and

thick dark woods, within sight of the deep blue waters of Lake Leman, Mr. Linwood, his daughter, and her

husband, took up their residence for a short time. For more than three weeks, this little party spent their time

in visiting the birthplace of Rousseau, and the former abodes of Byron, Gibbon, Voltaire, De Stael, Shelley,

We can scarcely contemplate a visit to a more historic and interesting place than Geneva and its vicinity.

Here, Calvin, that great luminary in the Church, lived and ruled for years; here, Voltaire, the mighty genius,

who laid the foundation of the French Revolution, and who boasted, "When I shake my wig, I powder the

Fame is generally the recompense, not of the living, but of the dead, not always do they reap and gather in

the harvest who sow the seed; the flame of its altar is too often kindled from the ashes of the great. A

distinguished critic has beautifully said, "The sound which the stream of high thought, carried down to future

ages, makes, as it flows deep, distant, murmuring ever more, like the waters of the mighty ocean." No

reputation can be called great that will no endure this test. The distinguished men who had lived in Geneva

transfused their spirit, by their writings, into the spirit of other lovers of literature and everything that treated

of great authors. Jerome and Clotelle lingered long in and about the haunts of Geneva and Lake Leman.

An autumn sun sent down her bright rays, and bathed every object in her glorious light, as Clotelle,

accompanied by her husband and father set out one fine morning on her return home to France. Throughout

the whole route, Mr. Linwood saw by the deference paid to Jerome, whose black complexion excited

astonishment in those who met him, that there was no hatred to the man in Europe, on account of his color;

that what is called prejudice against color is the offspring of the institution of slavery; and he felt ashamed of

his own countrymen, when he thought of the complexion as distinctions, made in the United States, and

resolved to dedicate the remainder of his life to the eradication of this unrepublican and unchristian feeling

After a stay of four weeks at Dunkirk, the home of the Fletchers, Mr. Linwood set out for America, with the

full determination of freeing his slaves, and settling them in one of the Northern States, and then to return to

THE first gun fired at the American Flag, on the 12th of April, 1861, at Fort Sumter, reverberated all over

Europe, and was hailed with joy by the crowned heads of the Old World, who hated republican institutions,

and who thought they saw, in this act of treason, the downfall of the great American experiment. Most

citizens, however, of the United States, who were then sojourning abroad, hastened home to take part in the

struggle, some to side with the rebels, others to take their stand with the friends of liberty. Among the

latter, none came with swifter steps or more zeal than Jerome and Clotelle Fletcher. They arrived in New

Orleans a week after the capture of that city by the expedition under the command of MajorGen. B. F.

Butler. But how changed was society since Clotelle had last set feet in the Crescent City! Twentytwo years

had passed; her own chequered life had been through many shifting scenes; her old acquaintances in New

Orleans had all disappeared; and with the exception of the black faces which she beheld at every turn, and

which in her younger days were her associates, she felt herself in the midst of strangers; and these were

arrayed against each other in mortal combat. Possessed with ample means, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher set about

the work of assisting those whom the rebellion had placed in a state of starvation and sickness.

With a heart overflowing with the milk of human kindness, and a tear for every sufferer, no matter of what

The "General Order No. 63," issued on the 22nd of August, 1862, by Gen. Butler, recognizing, and calling

into the service of the Federal Government, the battalion of colored men known as the "Native Guard," at

once gave full scope to Jerome's military enthusiasm; and he made haste to enlist in the organization.

The "Native Guard" did good service in New Orleans and vicinity, till ordered to take part in the siege of Port

Hudson, where they appeared under the name of the "First Louisiana," and under the immediate command of

Lieut.Col. Bassett. The heroic attack of this regiment, made on the 27th of May, 1863, its unsurpassed

"charge," its great loss, and its severe endurance on the field of battle, are incidents which have passed into

history. The noble daring of the First Louisiana gained for the black soldiers in our army the praise of all

There was, however, one scene, the closing one in the first day's attack on Port Hudson, which, while it

reflects undying credit upon the bravery of the negro, pays but a sorry tribute to the humanity of the white

general who brought the scene into existence. The field was strewn with the dead, the dying, and the

wounded; and as the jaded regiments were leaving the ground, after their unsuccessful attack, it was found

that Capt. Payne, of the Third Louisiana, had been killed; and his body, which was easily distinguished by the

uniform, was still on the battlefield. The colonel of the regiment, pointing to where the body lay, asked,

"Are there four men here who will fetch the body of Capt. Payne from the field?" Four men stepped out, and

at once started. But, as the body lay directly under the range of the rebel batteries, they were all swept down

by the grape, canister, and shell which were let loose by the enemy. The question was again repeated, "Are

there four men who will go for the body?" The required number came forth, and started upon a run; but, ere

they could reach the spot, they were cut down. "Are there four more who will try?" The third call was

answered in the affirmative, and the men started upon the doublequick. They, however, fell before getting as

far as the preceding four. Twelve men had been killed in the effort to obtain the body of the brave Payne, but

to no purpose. Humanity forbade another trial, and yet it was made. "Are there four more men in the regiment

who will volunteer to go for Capt. Payne's body?" shouted the officer. Four men sprang forward, as if fearful

that they would miss the opportunity of these last: one was Jerome Fletcher, the hero of our story. They

started upon the run; and, strange to tell, all of them reached the body, and had nearly borne it from the field,

when two of the number were cut down. Of these, one was Jerome. His head was entirely torn off by a shell.

The body of the deceased officer having been rescued, an end was put t the human sacrifice.

The sad intelligence of Jerome's death was brought to Clotelle while she was giving her personal attention to

the sick and wounded that filled the hospitals of New Orleans. For a time she withdrew from the gaze of

mankind, and gave herself up to grief. Few unions had been productive of more harmonious feelings than

hers. And this blow, so unexpected and at a time when she was experiencing such a degree of excitement

But the newspaper accounts of the intense suffering of the Union prisoners in the rebel States aroused her,

and caused her to leave her retirement. In the month of October, 1863, Clotelle resolved to visit

Andersonville, Ga., for the purpose of alleviating the hardships of our sick and imprisoned soldiers, and at

once put her resolution into effect by going immediately to that place. After crossing the lines, she passed as a

rebel lady, to enable her the more successfully to carry out her object. On her arrival at Andersonville,

Clotelle took up her abode with a private family, of Union proclivities, and commenced her work of mercy.

She first visited the hospitals, the buildings of which were merest excuses for hospitals.

It was the beginning of November; and, even in that southern latitude, the cold made these miserable abodes

uncomfortable nights and mornings. The dirty, unventilated rooms, with nothing but straw upon the cold,

damp floor, for beds, upon which lay the ragged, emaciated Union prisoners, worn down to skin and bone

with disease and starvation, with their sunken eyes and wild looks, made them appear hideous in the extreme.

The repulsive scenes, that showed the suffering, neglect, and cruelty which these poor creatures had

Having paid considerable attention to hospital life in Europe, and so recently from amongst the sick at New

Orleans, Clotelle's experience, suggestions, and liberal expenditure of money, would have added greatly to

the comfort of these helpless men, if the rebel authorities had been so disposed. But their hatred to Union

prisoners was so apparent, that the interest which this angel of humanity took in the condition of the rebel

sick could not shield her from the indignation of the secession officials for her good feeling for the Union

men. However, with a determination to do all in her power for the needy, she labored in season and out.

The brutal treatment and daily murders committed upon our soldiers in the Andersonville prisons caused

Clotelle to secretly aid prisoners in their escape. In the latter work, she brought to her assistance the services

of a negro man named Pete. This individual was employed about the prison, and, having the entire confidence

of the commandant, was in a position to do much good without being suspected. Pete was an original

character, of a jovial nature, and, when intending some serious adventure, would appear very solemn, and

usually singing a doleful ditty, often the following, which was a favorite with him:

"Come listen, all you darkies, come listen to my song: It am about old Massa, who use me bery wrong. In de

cole, frosty mornin', it an't so bery nice, Wid de water to de middle, to hoe among de rice;

When I neber hab forgotten How I used to hoe de cotton, How I used to hoe de cotton, On de old Virginny

"If I feel de drefful hunger, he tink it am a vice, And he gib me for my dinner a little broken rice, A little

broken rice and a bery little fat, And he grumble like de debbil if I eat too much of dat;

"He tore me from my Dinah; I tought my heart would burst: He made me lub anoder when my lub was wid de

first; He sole my picanninnies becase he got dar price, And shut me in de marshfield to hoe among de rice;

"And all de day I hoe dar, in all de heat and rain; And, as I hoe away dar, my heart go back again, Back to

de little cabin dat stood among de corn, And to de ole plantation where she and I war born!

"Den Dinah am beside me, de chil'ren on my knee, And dough I am a slave dar, it 'pears to me I'm free, Till I

wake up from my dreaming, and wife and chil'ren gone, I hoe away and weep dar, and weep dar all alone!

"But soon a day am comin', a day I long to see, When dis darky in de cole ground, foreber will be free, When

wife and chil'ren wid me, I'll sing in Paradise, How He, de blessed Jesus, hab bought me wid a price;

How de Lord hab not forgotten How well I hoed de cotton, How well I hoed de cotton On de old Virginny

When away from the whites, and among his own class, Pete could often be heard in the following strains:

"A storm am brewin' in de Souf, A storm am brewin' now. Oh! hearken den, and shut your mouf, And I will

tell you how: And I will tell you how, ole boy, De storm of fire will pour, And make de darkies dance for joy,

As dey neber danced afore; So shut your mouf as close as deafh, And all you niggas hole your breafh, And I

"De darkies at de Norf am ris, And dey am comin' down Am comin' down, I know dey is, To do de white

folks brown! Dey'll turn ole Massa out to grass, And set de niggas free, And when dat day am come to pass

We'll all be dar to see! So shut your mouf as close as deafh, And all you niggas hole your breafh, And do de

"Den all de week will be as gay As am de Chris'mas time; We'll dance all night and all de day, And make de

banjo chime And make de banjo chime, I tink, And pass de time away, Wid 'nuf to eat and nuf to drink,

And not a bit to pay! So shut your mouf as close as deafh, And all you niggas hole your breafh, And make de

How to escape from prison was ever the thoughts by day and dreams by night of the incarcerated. Plans were

concocted, partly put into execution, and then proved failures. Some of these caused increased suffering to

the prisoners after their discovery; for, where the real parties could not be found, the whole were illtreated

as a punishment to the guilty. Tunnelling was generally the mode for escape; and tunnelling became the order

of the day, or, rather, the work for the night. In the latter part of November, 1863, the unusual gaiety of the

prisoners showed that some plan of exit from the prison was soon to be exhibited.

FOR several weeks, some ten or fifteen of the most ablebodied of the prisoners had been nightly at work;

and the great tunnel, the largest ever projected by men for their escape from prison, was thought to be

finished, with the exception of the tapping outside of the prison wall. The digging of a tunnel is not an easy

job, and, consequently, is of slow progress. The Andersonville prisoners had to dig ten feet down into the

earth, after cutting through the floor, and then went a distance of fifty feet to get beyond the wall. The digging

was done in the following way: As soon as the operator was below the surface, and had a place large enough

to admit the body, he laid down upon his face, at full length, and with his knife, spoon, piece of earthenware,

or old iron, dug away with all his energies, throwing the dirt behind him, which was gathered up by a

confederate, carried off, and hi. This mode of operating was carried on night after night, and the flooring

replaced during the day, to prevent suspicion. The want of fresh air in the tunnel, as it progressed to

completion, often drove the men from their work, and caused a delay, which proved fatal to their successful

The longlooked for day arrived. More than three hundred had prepared to leave this hated abode, by the

tunnel. All they waited for was the tapping and the signal. The time came, the place of egress was tapped, and

the leader had scarcely put his head out of the hole, ere he was fired upon by the sentinels, which soon

alarmed and drew the entire guard to the spot. Great was the commotion throughout the prison, and all who

This failure seemed to depress the spirits of the men more than any previous attempt. Heavy irons were

placed upon the limbs of many of the prisoners, and their lot was made otherwise harder by the keepers.

Clotelle, though often permitted to see the prisoners and contribute to their wants, and, though knowing much

of their designs, knew nothing of the intended escape, and therefore was more bold in her intercessions in

The cruelty which followed this mishap, induced Clotelle to interest herself in another mode of escape for the

Pete, the man of all work, whose sympathies were with the Union prisoners, was easily gained over to a

promise of securing the keys of the prison and letting the men escape, especially when Clotelle offered him

The night of the exodus came. It was favored with darkness; and it so happened that the officials were on a

spree, owing to the arrival of Confederate officers with news of a rebel victory.

Before getting the keys, Pete supplied the sentinels on duty with enough whiskey, which he had stolen from

the keepers' storeroom, to make them all drunk. At the chosen moment, the keys were obtained by Pete, the

doors and gates were opened, and ninetythree prisoners, including the tunnel workers, whose irons were

taken off, made their escape, allowing the faithful negro to accompany them. Nothing was known of the exit

of the men till breakfast hour on the next morning. On examination of the storeroom, it was found, that, in

addition to the whiskey Pete had taken a large supply of stores for the accommodation of the party. Added to

this, a good number of arms with ammunition had been furnished the men by the African.

The rebels were not prepared to successfully pursue the fleeing prisoners, although armed men were sent in

different directions. Nothing, however, was heard of them till they reached the Union lines. Long suspected

of too freely aiding Union prisoners, Clotelle was now openly charged with a knowledge of the escape of

THE fiendish and heartless conduct of a large number of the people of the South towards Union men during

the war, and especially the unladylike demeanor of rebel women at New Orleans and other points, is a

matter that has passed into history. In few places were the women more abusive to those of Union proclivities

than the female portion of the inhabitants of Greenville, Alabama. While passing through this town, on her

return from Andersonville to New Orleans, Clotelle had to encounter the fierce illtreatment of these

chivalrous daughters of the South. There were, during the rebellion, many brave and generous women, who,

in the mountains and lowlands of Alabama, gave aid to Federals,soldiers and civilians, in their

wanderings and escape from the cruelties of the traitors. One of these patriotic women was arrested while on

a visit to Greenville for the purpose of procuring medicine and other necessaries for sick Union men then hid

away in the woods. This largehearted womanEunice Hastingshad her horse taken from her, robbed of

the goods she had purchased, and, after experiencing almost death at the hands of the rebel women, was

released and turned out penniless, and without the means of reaching her home in the country; when Clotelle,

who had just arrived at the dilapidated and poorly kept hotel, met her, and, learning the particulars of her

case, offered assistance to the injured woman, which brought down upon her own head the condemnation of

the secesh population of the place. However, Clotelle purchased a fine horse from the landlord, gave it to

Miss Hastings, who, after securing some articles for which she had come to Greenville, left town under cover

of night, and escaped further molestation. This act of kindness to a helpless sister at once stirred up the vilest

As has already been said, there was nothing in the appearance of Clotelle to indicate that a drop of African

blood coursed through her veins, except, perhaps, the slight wave in the hair, and the scarcely perceptible

brunettish tinge upon the countenance. She passed as a rebel lady; yet the inhabitants of Greenville could not

permit sympathy with, and aid to, a Union woman to pass unnoticed, and therefore resolved on revenge.

Clotelle's person, trunks, and letters were all searched with the hope and expectation of finding evidences of a

spy. Nothing of the kind being found, she was then rigorously interrogated as to her sympathies with the two

contending armies. With no wish whatever to conceal her opinions, she openly avowed that she was a Union

woman. This was enough. After being persecuted during the day, she was put in charge of a committee of

rebel women for the night, with a promise of more violent treatment on the morrow. The loyalty of the

negroes of the South, during the severest hours of the rebellion, reflects the greatest possible credit on the

race. Through their assistance, hundreds of Union men were enabled to make their escape from prisons, and

thousands kept from starvation when on their way to the Federal lines, or while keeping out of the way of

rebel recruiting gangs. They seldom, if ever, hesitated to do the white Unionists a service, at the risk even of

life, and, under the most trying circumstances, revealed a devotion and a spirit of selfsacrifice that were

heroic. No one ever made an appeal to them they did not answer. They were degraded and ignorant, which

was attributable to the cruel laws and equally unchristian practices of the people of the South; but their hearts

were always open, and the slightest demand upon their sympathies brought forth their tears. They never

shunned a man or woman who sought food or shelter on their way to freedom. The goodness of heart and the

guileless spirit of the blacks was not better understood by any one than Clotelle; and she felt a secret joy at

seeing all the servants in the Greenville hotel negroes. She saw from their very looks that she had their

undivided sympathies. One of the servants overheard the rebels in a conversation, in which it was determined

to send Clotelle to the county town, for safe keeping in the jail, the following day; and this fact was

communicated to the unfortunate woman. The slave woman who gave the information told her that she could

Having already been robbed of every thing except the apparel upon her person and some money she had

concealed about her, she at once signified to the black woman her wish to get out of the reach of her

persecutors. The old wornout clock in the narrow dining hall had struck one; a cold rain was patting upon

the roof, and the women watchers, one after another, had fallen asleep; and even the snuffdippers, whose

dirty practice creates a nervousness that keeps them awake longer than any other class, had yielded to the

demands of Morpheus, when Aggy, the colored servant, stealthily entered the room, beckoned to Clotelle,

Cautiously and softly the black woman led the way, followed by the "Angel of Mercy," till, after passing

down through the cellar with the water covering the floor, they emerged into the back yard. Two horses had

been provided. Clotelle mounted one, and a black man the other; the latter leading the way. Both dashed off

at a rapid pace, through a drenching storm, with such a palllike darkness that they could not see each other.

After an hour's ride the negro halted, and informed Clotelle that he must leave her, and return with the horses,

but that she was with friends. He then gave a whistle, and for a moment held his breath. Just as the faithful

black was about to repeat the signal, he heard the response; and in a moment the lady alighted, and with

dripping garments, limbs chilled to numbness, followed her new guide to a place of concealment, near the

"You is jes as wet as a drownded rat," said the mulatto woman, who met Clotelle as she entered the negro's

"Yes mam, dese is hard times for eberybody dat 'bleves in de Union. I 'spose deys cotched your husband, an'

"Oh, mam, dats de place whar de black people fight de rebels so, wasn't it?" remarked Dinah, for such was

"Yes, that was the place," replied the former. "I see that your husband has lost one of his hands: did he lose it

"Oh no, missus," said Dinah. "When dey was taken all de men, black an white, to put in de army, dey cotched

my ole man too, and took him long wid 'em. So you see, he said he'd die afore he'd shoot at de Yanks. So you

see, missus, Jimmy jes took and lay his left han' on a log, and chop it off wid de hatchet. Den, you see, dey let

him go, an' he come home. You see, missus, my Jimmy is a free man: he was born free, an' he bought me, an'

It was true that Jim had purchased his wife; nor had he forgotten the fact, as was shown a day or two after,

while in conversation with her. The woman, like many of her sex, was an inveterate scold, and Jim had but

one way to govern her tongue. "Shet your mouf, madam, an' hole your tongue," said Jim, after his wife had

scolded and sputtered away for some minutes. "Shet your mouf dis minit, I say: you shan't stan' dar, an' talk

ter me in dat way. I bought you, an' paid my money fer you, an" I ain't a gwine ter let you sase me in dat way.

Shet your mouf dis minit: ef you don't I'll sell you; 'fore God I will. Shet up, I say, or I'll sell you." This had

After a week spent in this place of concealment, Jim conveyed Clotelle to Leaksville, Mississippi, through

The Rebellion was now drawing to a close. The valley of the Mississippi was in full possession of the Federal

government. Sherman was on his raid, and Grant was hemming in Lee. Everywhere the condition of the

freedmen attracted the attention of the friends of humanity, and no one felt more keenly their wants than

Clotelle; and to their education and welfare she resolved to devote the remainder of her life, and for this

purpose went to the State of Mississippi, and opened a school for the freedmen; hired teachers, paying them

out of her own purse. In the summer of 1866, the Poplar Farm, on which she had once lived as a slave, was

confiscated and sold by Government authority, and was purchased by Clotelle, upon which she established a

Freedmen's School, and where at this writing, now June, 1867,resides the "Angel of Mercy."