While poor little Clotelle
was being kicked about by Mrs. Miller, on
account of her relationship to her
son-in-law, Isabella was passing lonely
hours in the county jail, the place to which
Jennings had removed her for safe keeping,
after purchasing her from Mrs. Miller.
Incarcerated in one of the iron barred 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 slave trader'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 had spent so
many happy days.
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 her, and the
trader did all he could to keep this idea
alive in her.
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 blood shot. He had not
visited his mother-in-law 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 slave
women, 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 the child in better hands than
those of her cruel mother.
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 smiles to favor
the object, she said,
"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
handkerchief, and burst into tears.
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 boarding school in
one of the Free States.
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 slave trader,
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 house
servants or waiting maids. 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 well dressed, were
scantily fed and over worked. Isabella found
her new situation far different from her
Virginia cottage life. She had frequently
heard Vicksburg spoken of as a cruel place
for slaves, and now she was in a position to
test the truthfulness of the assertion.
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 ill looking
dress, Isabella was still handsome. Her life
had been a secluded one, and though now
twenty eight 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 her teeth.
"She tink she white when she cum here, wid
dat long har ob hers," replied Mill.
"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 house servant has the
best situation a slave can occupy.
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
warning, she knew not what had become of
her.
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 unused.
In the same house with Isabella was a man
servant 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 growing
out again.
"Yes," replied William; "you look a good
deal like a man with your short hair."
"Oh," rejoined she, "I have often been told
that I would make a better looking man than
woman, and if I had the money I might avail
myself of it to big farewell to this place."
In a moment afterwards, Isabella feared that
she had said too much, and laughingly
observed, "I am always talking some
nonsense; you must not heed me."
William was a tall, full blooded 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 his eyes
while listening to Isabella's story.
"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 women
of the South, and can easily pass for a free
white woman."
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 own."
"How can that be done?" he inquired,
eagerly.
"I will assume the disguise of a gentleman,
and you that of a servant, and we will thus
take passage in a steamer to Cincinnati, and
from thence to Canada."
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 in the
steamer Heroine.
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 state room, under the plea of
illness.
Meanwhile, William was playing his part well
with the servants. He was loudly talking of
his master's wealth, and nothing on the boat
appeared so good as in his master's fine
mansion.
"I don't like dese steamboats, no how," said
he; "I hope when massa goes on anoder
journey, he take de carriage and de hosses."
After a nine days' 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 of my daughter."
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 stage coach at Wheeling and set
out for Richmond.
Clotelle or The Colored Heroine, A tale of the Southern States