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 pony chaise 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 self forgetfulness which was one
of his chief characteristics, Jerome threw
himself before the horses to stop them; and,
seizing the high spirited 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, with the
heroic man struggling beneath him.
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 fox hunt 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 decided to remain.
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 ill
health 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 high spirited 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 riding school 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 member of the
company.
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 half
mile 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 meadow land, 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 difficulties in that direction
which to him appeared insurmountable.
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 with the
other animals.
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.
"A slight dizziness," was the answer.
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 couple of
leeches.
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
learned Esculapius, was put to bed.
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 strength. This was his first and last
attempt to follow the fox and hounds.
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 denied him.
Clotelle or The Colored Heroine, A tale of the Southern States