Part 10 (1/2)

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 circ.u.mstance through one of the servants. With a degree of boldness unusual for him, he immediately went to his mother-in-law 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 relative to the girl.

It was then that Linwood felt deepest the evil of the inst.i.tution 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 recognized in connection with that cla.s.s.

CHAPTER XVIII. A SLAVE-HUNTING PARSON

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 pa.s.sengers and making ready to proceed on her voyage to New Orleans. The plank connecting the boat with the sh.o.r.e had scarcely been secured in its place, when a good-looking man about fifty years of age, with a white neck-tie, and a pair of gold-rimmed gla.s.ses on, was seen hurrying on board the vessel. Just at that moment could be seen a stout man with his face fitted with the small-pox, making his way up to the above-mentioned gentleman.

”How do you do, my dear sir? this is Mr. Wilson, I believe,” said the short man, at the same time taking from his mouth a large chew of tobacco, and throwing it down on the s.h.i.+p's deck.

”You have the advantage of me, sir,” replied the tall man.

”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 never got the worth of my money out of her.”

”I could not help that,” returned the slave-trader; ”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 do to wait on a lady.”

”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 pa.s.sed to the stern of the boat to where the trader had between fifty and sixty slaves, the greater portion being women.

”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.”

”Indeed, sir, is not that young woman white?” inquired the parson.

”Oh, no, sir; she is no whiter than you see!”

”But is she a slave?” asked the preacher.

”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 earth, as the ministers say.”

”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 slave-girl 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, sweet-pea, and cup-rose, 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 negro-driver 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 gets the money.”

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 a.s.sist about the house and to act as coachman. This slave, whose name was Jerome, was of pure African origin, was perfectly black, very fine-looking, tall, slim, and erect as any one could possibly be. His features were not bad, lips thin, nose prominent, hands and feet small.