Clotel - William Wells Brown (good books to read for beginners txt) 📗

to her face and wept. Mrs. Morton saw plainly that there was cause for this expression of grief, and pressed the woman more closely.

“Hear me, then,” said the woman calming herself: “I will tell you why I sometimes weep. I was born in Germany, on the banks of the Rhine. Ten years ago my father came to this country, bringing with him my mother and myself. He was poor, and I, wishing to assist all I could, obtained a situation as nurse to a lady in this city. My father got employment as a labourer on the wharf, among the steamboats; but he was soon taken ill with the yellow fever, and died. My mother then got a situation for herself, while I remained with my first employer. When the hot season came on, my master, with his wife, left New Orleans until the hot season was over, and took me with them. They stopped at a town on the banks of the Mississippi river, and said they should remain there some weeks. One day they went out for a ride, and they had not been one more than half an hour, when two men came into the room and told me that they had bought me, and that I was their slave. I was bound and taken to prison, and that night put on a steamboat and taken up the Yazoo river, and set to work on a farm. I was forced to take up with a negro, and by him had three children. A year since my master’s daughter was married, and I was given to her. She came with her husband to this city, and I have ever since been hired out.”

“Unhappy woman,” whispered Althesa, “why did you not tell me this before?”

“I was afraid,” replied Salome, “for I was once severely flogged for telling a stranger that I was not born a slave.”

On Mr. Morton’s return home, his wife communicated to him the story which the slave woman had told her an hour before, and begged that something might be done to rescue her from the situation she was then in. In Louisiana as well as many others of the slave states, great obstacles are thrown in the way of persons who have been wrongfully reduced to slavery regaining their freedom. A person claiming to be free must prove his right to his liberty. This, it will be seen, throws the burden of proof upon the slave, who, in all probability, finds it out of his power to procure such evidence. And if any free person shall attempt to aid a freeman in regaining his freedom, he is compelled to enter into security in the sum of one thousand dollars, and if the person claiming to be free shall fail to establish such fact, the thousand dollars are forfeited to the state. This cruel and oppressive law has kept many a freeman from espousing the cause of persons unjustly held as slaves. Mr. Morton inquired and found that the woman’s story was true, as regarded the time she had lived with her present owner; but the latter not only denied that she was free, but immediately removed her from Morton’s.

Three months after Salome had been removed from Morton’s and let out to another family, she was one morning cleaning the door steps, when a lady passing by, looked at the slave and thought she recognised someone that she had seen before. The lady stopped and asked the woman if she was a slave.

“I am,” said she.

“Were you born a slave?”

“No, I was born in Germany.”

“What’s the name of the ship in which you came to this country?” inquired the lady.

“I don’t know,” was the answer.

“Was it the Amazon?” At the sound of this name, the slave woman was silent for a moment, and then the tears began to flow freely down her careworn cheeks. “Would you know Mrs. Marshall, who was a passenger in the Amazon, if you should see her?” inquired the lady. At this the woman gazed at the lady with a degree of intensity that can be imagined better than described, and then fell at the lady’s feet. The lady was Mrs. Marshall. She had crossed the Atlantic in the same ship with this poor woman. Salome, like many of her countrymen, was a beautiful singer, and had often entertained Mrs. Marshall and the other lady passengers on board the Amazon. The poor woman was raised from the ground by Mrs. Marshall, and placed upon the door step that she had a moment before been cleaning. “I will do my utmost to rescue you from the horrid life of a slave,” exclaimed the lady, as she took from her pocket her pencil, and wrote down the number of the house, and the street in which the German woman was working as a slave.

After a long and tedious trial of many days, it was decided that Salome Miller was by birth a free woman, and she was set at liberty. The good and generous Althesa had contributed some of the money toward bringing about the trial, and had done much to cheer on Mrs. Marshall in her benevolent object. Salome Miller is free, but where are her three children? They are still slaves, and in all human probability will die as such.

This, reader, is no fiction; if you think so, look over the files of the New Orleans newspapers of the years 1845⁠–⁠6, and you will there see reports of the trial.

XV Today a Mistress, Tomorrow a Slave

I promised thee a sister tale
Of man’s perfidious cruelty;
Come, then, and hear what cruel wrong
Befell the dark ladie.

Coleridge

Let us return for a moment to the home of Clotel. While she was passing lonely and dreary hours with none but her darling child, Horatio Green was trying to find relief in that insidious enemy of man, the intoxicating cup. Defeated in politics, forsaken in love by his wife, he seemed to have lost all principle