The Lost German Slave Girl

by John Bailey

  Pollock then told the court that he had seen Bridget several times after Louis Belmonti purchased her. This was because he had a daughter at the Ursuline Convent and, when he picked her up after school, he would see Bridget standing in the doorway of Belmonti’s cabaret. She was well dressed, and on the couple of times he chatted with her, she seemed content. She had never complained about her treatment, and not once had she said she shouldn’t be a slave.

  Pollock hadn’t been the stellar witness that Upton had feared. Williams remained a ghostly figure. It was more than Upton could have hoped for, and he felt he need ask only a few questions in cross-examination. He again got Pollock to declare that he had no recollection of witnessing the power of attorney—all he could say about it was that it bore his signature. Was the slave girl present when the document was signed? Upton got the answer he was hoping for: Pollock couldn’t remember that either.

  On reexamination, Grymes asked Pollock if it was his practice to have slaves before him just because they were mentioned in a document. Pollock said it wasn’t.

  The next witness, Emile Johns, was a seller of sheet music and a book publisher, and it was his firm, E. John & Co. of Stationers Hall, New Orleans, which, in 1838, had brought out Upton’s book, The Civil Code of the State of Louisiana with Annotations* Johns said that upon his arrival in New Orleans in 1818, Miller had engaged him as the family music master. They became friends and hardly a day passed when he didn’t call in on Miller to chat. Miller had since fallen on hard times, but twenty years ago Miller had had many slaves and, in Johns’ opinion, was too good a master and spoiled them. Johns first saw Sally Miller around Miller’s house in 1822 or perhaps 1823. She appeared to be between ten and twelve. He took her to be a quadroon. He hadn’t paid much attention to her except to ask her to get a coal to light his cigar but, from what he could hear, she didn’t have any sort of accent. In his hearing, she was always called Mary.

  Johns also said that the first time he was aware that Miller had an interest in a plantation in Attakapas was six months ago, when Miller invited him to visit. If Miller had owned property in Attakapas between 1818 and 1825, he was sure he would have heard of it.

  Upton’s cross-examination was brief. He asked him if he didn’t consider Sally Miller too white to be a slave.

  He disagreed: I considered her a quadroon, because she had the color of a quadroon.

  But you said you didn’t pay much attention to her?

  That’s right, I didn’t.

  So, you didn’t think about her color?

  I didn’t think about her at all.

  So, why did you think she was a slave, when she was so white?

  Because she was always among the slaves, I never thought of her other than as a slave.

  Buchanan took a break for lunch. Upton freed himself from Sally Miller and her backers and hurried away to a small room adjacent to the court reserved for the legal profession. He slipped the latch on the door. He had some thinking to do. The way in which Grymes planned to conduct the defense was now apparent: like a skilled craftsman whittling away, Grymes intended to carve out a victory by calling a string of well-connected friends of Miller to say that they knew Sally when she was Mrs. Canby’s servant and that in their view she was a slave. Grymes knew his judge, and he was counting on Buchanan buckling under the weight of consistent opinion from the cream of New Orleans society. Upton struggled with what he could do about this. It seemed to him that a scattergun attack on the credibility of each witness would achieve little. What he needed was a consistent approach that would allow him to ask similar questions of all Grymes’s witnesses so that he could emphasize to the court his fundamental and strongest point: that they only thought her a slave because Miller had led them to believe it. After several minutes of thought, he jotted down a theory of the case. It was this theory that molded his cross-examination of the witnesses to come. To each of them he would put a similar series of questions: Did they agree that Miller and his mother treated Sally Miller as a slave? (Of course, they did.) And the reason they regarded Sally as a slave was because she was treated as such by Miller and his mother? (He expected them to say yes.) Well, then, he would ask, didn’t that mean that if Miller and his mother had treated her as a white person, they would have seen her as a white person instead. (Here Upton would hold his breath, hoping for agreement.) And the culmination of his theory, which he would put to Buchanan in his final address, was that because everyone treated her as a slave, Sally Miller, a helpless orphan-child, believed it herself. Thus, the circle was complete. This was how Miller had subdued her into bondage.

  The next witness, Carlisle Pollock, said he had known Miller and his mother since 1812, and had been employed as their notary. To his knowledge, Miller hadn’t acquired property in Attakapas until 1837 or 1838. He also gave evidence of seeing Sally in Miller’s family at about the time she was acquired by Mrs. Canby. He hadn’t observed any accent in her speech. From her appearance, he thought that she was colored, a mixed blood.

  But, insisted Upton, if you had seen her among whites, would you not think she was white?

  Pollock paused. I can’t really say. The problem is that in New Orleans there are many white people of dark complexion and many colored people with bright complexions.

  But what do you say is in the features of the colored persons to denote them as such?

  It’s hard to put your finger on it. But you can tell the difference. People who live in countries where there are many colored persons acquire an instinctive means of judging that cannot well be explained.

  Are you saying that it is instinctive? Is that how you tell?

  Well, yes. In some cases, peculiar features stand up when people have black blood.

  Did you see any peculiar features in the face of the white girl you saw at Miller’s sawmill that would have induced you to believe her a colored woman?

  This was a question that Mr. Pollock was unwilling to answer. He avoided it by saying that he had no cause to impress her features on his recollection.

  Grymes felt some repairing had to be done. He asked Pollock whether, in his experience, people who look white were often not.

  Pollock readily agreed. He had seen persons whom experienced men would have taken for white, but whom he knew to be colored. There were also many colored persons in New Orleans who looked like those in white families.

  With the question of color now well and truly muddied, Grymes left it at that. Pollock was the last witness for the day. Tomorrow, announced Grymes, he would start with General Lewis.

  Upton by this time had accepted that it was unlikely that he would be able to show that Miller owned property in Attakapas in 1818. The evidence presented so far suggested strongly that Miller hadn’t begun to purchase lands there until at least a decade later. To Upton’s mind, this was but a minor blemish. He had convinced himself that ultimately it didn’t matter how Miller had obtained Salomé Müller. The essential point was that, through a number of eye identifications by those who knew her, and the presence of the marks on her legs, he had sufficient proof to show that Sally Miller was Daniel Müller’s daughter. Added to this was the failure of Grymes to produce Anthony Williams, or even to explain who he was. And when Grymes’s own witnesses, who had supposedly signed the power of attorney, failed to remember anything about it, he and the German supporters of Sally Miller took it as an article of faith that Miller, after creating the Williams story, had forged the power of attorney, the receipt for one hundred dollars, and the signatures of the two notaries.

  Meanwhile, both legal teams realized that something had to be done about identifying the marks on Sally Miller’s legs. Were they burns or natural blemishes? Grymes complained to the judge that Upton’s witnesses had spoken about them for days, yet no one from his side had ever seen them, and they couldn’t even be sure they existed. Upton conceded the point. The next day, before General Lewis gave evidence, he announced to Judge Buchanan that, following discussions with his opponents,
agreement had been reached on how to ascertain the origin of the marks. It was proposed to have Sally inspected by a doctor and a report prepared stating their cause. Buchanan agreed to the proposed course and signed an order for the medical examination to proceed.

  Yes, he was familiar with Mr. Miller, said General Lewis in response to Grymes’s first question. He wasn’t acquainted with Mr. Belmonti, though. He had known Mr. Miller intimately for twenty-five or twenty-six years. And the plaintiff? He had known her for about twenty years, although he had never heard her called Sally Miller. “Mary” was the only name he knew her by. He had seen her off and on over the years at Mr. Miller’s house. When he first saw her she was forming into womanhood, and that was before 1824. He was able to be precise about the dates because he was chosen by the state to carry the votes to Washington for the presidential elections of 1824. When he returned in 1825, Sally was in the family way after she had started living with one of Mr. Miller’s colored boys. His name was Yellow Jim, and he looked to be as white as Mary.

  What was the reputation of Mr. Miller and Mrs. Canby as to how they treated their slaves? asked Grymes.

  At that point, Lewis searched for the woman who was causing all the trouble. After finding her seated next to Eva Schuber, he looked carefully at her for a moment, then frowned. He returned to the question. Miller is a kind and indulgent master, he said. In fact, too much so, in my view. All his slaves were fond of him. And Mrs. Canby is one of the best, most matronly ladies I know. She is very respectable and charitable. She is welcomed in all the respectable families in New Orleans and is forever sending little presents to her friends in the city. She often visited my father. When I knew her she was still living in New Orleans and was always ready with an offer of charity whenever her services were needed. She raised many young ladies in her house; one, I remember in particular, became Mrs. Parmly. I attended Mrs. Parmly’s wedding to Mr. Parmly, a dentist in the city. I am, of course, talking about twenty years ago. Miller was rich, then. He had many slaves and a thriving business. Since then, he has become something of a recluse. His loss of fortune hit him hard.

  Did you ever hear the plaintiff speaking?

  Yes, frequently. She came to my father’s house on errands, delivering things from Mrs. Canby. And when Mrs. Canby visited, she would often come with her. She was Mrs. Canby’s companion.

  How did she speak? Was there anything unusual in her speech?

  Not at all. I have no recollection of her speaking with any accent other than that of a colored American servant. There was nothing unusual about the way she spoke.

  But she was treated as a slave?

  Well, she was, but she was also treated as a favorite. Because of her light complexion, I suppose. Everyone who came to the house treated her well.

  Even you? You treated her as a colored girl?

  I hadn’t the least suspicion that she was other than a colored girl, until this court action was brought. Just a few days ago, when I called in to observe this hearing, I spoke to the plaintiff and she told me that she had discovered she was white.

  What was your reaction to that?

  I was surprised; until then, I had also thought her colored. She also said to me that she was sorry she was obliged to bring the suit.

  After Grymes had concluded his examination, Judge Buchanan asked several questions of Lewis. When he had seen her in the latter part of 1823, or 1824, could he positively say that she was over ten?

  But Lewis wouldn’t be led. No, he really couldn’t say how old she was. Her breasts were formed, or forming, but the girl might have been precocious for her age. He found it impossible to exactly state her age.

  But, I take it you thought her colored?

  That’s right. As I said, I had no suspicion that she was anything other than a slave. If she had been considered white, it would never have been permitted that she live as the wife of a colored boy. I, for one, wouldn’t have countenanced a connection of that kind, either then or now, had I known of it.

  It was Upton’s turn. Isn’t it the case that you had no reason to believe that the girl was a slave other than the fact that she was in Miller’s family as a slave, and treated as such?

  Lewis considered his answer for some time. Yes, I would agree with that.

  Upton had struck gold. He continued to mine it: And if you look at her now, sir, is there anything in her appearance that would lead you to believe her colored?

  For a second time Lewis looked long at the plaintiff. She is as white as most persons, he replied. But then, he added, but then, I have seen slaves as light a color as she.

  Lewis appeared dissatisfied with his answer and was about to say something more, but stopped himself. Upton waited for him to continue. Lewis shook his head. No, that was all.

  One brick at a time, Grymes attempted to wall Sally Miller in. After Lewis had departed, he called two further witnesses to give weight of numbers to evidence already presented. Charles F. Daunoy, attorney at law, said he rode regularly with Miller in 1822, 1823, and 1824. He had met the plaintiff many times and it had never come into his mind that she was German. She looked a quadroon to him, and she spoke much as did other servants around the house. He never knew the girl by any other name than Mary.

  Mrs. Kopman was a friend of Mrs. Canby and for several years had lived with her. She recalled that the first time she had seen Mary Miller was in 1825. Mary had been scrubbing the front steps of Mrs. Canby’s house. Mrs. Kopman thought she looked about fifteen or sixteen, and she was pregnant. A few months later she had given birth to a boy. Mrs. Kopman said that she had many conversations with Mary. She had no German accent. Once, Mary had told her she was of the Indian breed and had been brought here by a Negro trader from over the lake.

  Mrs. Kopman’s evidence that Mary had said that she had come from “over the lake” was later seized upon by both sides as confirming their account of how she came to be in Louisiana. To the Germans, it was a faint memory of the voyage across the Atlantic; to those on Miller’s side, it was a recall of sailing through the Gulf islands from Mobile to New Orleans. It was a case of more evidence resolving nothing.

  On the other hand, the allegation that Mary had said she was “of the Indian breed” wasn’t taken up by either party as being of significance. Indian descent didn’t guarantee freedom. The first slaves in Louisiana (as in the rest of colonial America) were Native Americans, not Africans, and although both the Spanish and the American authorities passed laws prohibiting the enslavement of Indians, those already in slavery, and their descendants, weren’t released. Descendants of Indian slaves, and Indian-African slaves, continued to be held in Louisiana, right up until the Civil War.105

  Before proceedings got under way after the luncheon adjournment, General Lewis stood up and announced to Buchanan that he wanted to add to his evidence. Everyone in the courtroom looked at him in surprise, but no one stopped him when he strode to the witness stand. There was a lull of curious expectation as Mr. Gilmore swore him in. Yes, what is it, General? asked Buchanan. All craned forward to hear him speak. What he wanted to add, he said in a soft, clear voice, was that the other day, as Mrs. Schuber was giving evidence, he had been struck by a remarkable resemblance between her and Sally Miller. Then, a little later he had seen another young woman, a member of the Müller family, sitting next to Sally. Again, he was struck by the resemblance. It had caused him to think. Perhaps he was wrong about his earlier evidence. He had always thought the plaintiff had something resembling the colored race in her features, but he might have been induced to that belief by the fact that he had always seen her associating with persons of color.

  There was a deep silence in the room as the judge, counsel and spectators took in what Lewis had said. Miller’s own witness had turned against him!

  That was all I wanted to add, said Lewis.

  Grymes half rose from his chair, ready to insist on the right of examination, but then he paused. What would a cross-examination of Lewis achieve? Lewis was not a
man to be broken down by artful questions, and Grymes had no doubt that he had wrestled long with his conscience before deciding he must give further evidence. Grymes resumed his seat, and in a showy display of contempt waved his hand in dismissal of Lewis’s evidence. I have no questions for this man, he said.

  Judge Buchanan frowned for a moment, then thanked the witness. The general stood up and, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone, strode through the hushed courtroom and out the door.

  Lewis’s evidence was a dramatic moment of betrayal of Miller’s cause. The man who had been his friend for a quarter century, the man in whose evidence he had set most store, had let him down. Miller sat in the court stunned by what he had heard. He looked across at those supporting Sally Miller and saw them whispering to each other. Some glanced towards him, gauging his reaction. He would give them nothing. He averted his eyes and looked directly ahead.

  To Upton, it was the breakthrough he had been praying for and a vindication of his theory of the case. From that moment on, all of his doubts vanished. Even hidebound, conservative, prejudiced Buchanan must now see that Sally was white. Perhaps Grymes might argue that Lewis’s opinion of Sally Miller’s whiteness carried no more weight than anyone else’s, but Lewis wasn’t just anyone else, and the lawyers on both sides knew it. General Lewis was one of New Orleans’s most distinguished citizens. His father, the late Joshua Lewis, had been a judge for the Superior Court of the Territory of Orleans. Buchanan would have known the family well.

  However, Grymes wasn’t done yet and his next witness was to be as damaging as any he had previously called.

  Mr. Joachim Kohn was a shopkeeper who ran a dry goods store in Chartres Street. He had a clear recollection that almost twenty years ago, one of his regular customers was Mrs. Canby, who would arrive in a carriage accompanied by a slave girl called Bridget.