Celia, a Slave Page 5

  Chapter Three

  INQUISITION

  SOMETIME early in the morning of Sunday, June 24, 1855, Virginia and Mary Newsom became concerned about their father, who had not appeared for the morning meal. Their increasing concern about their father’s disappearance, a fear that something was amiss, prompted the daughters to begin to search for him. Virginia looked first along “all the paths and walks and every place for him” without success. Next she searched along the creek, fearing that Newsom had fallen into the creek and drowned. The women hunted for Robert Newsom in the coves along the creek banks, but “found no trace of him.” At this point the daughters, evidently realizing that their efforts alone were unlikely to locate their father, called upon their neighbors for help. By ten o’clock that morning William Powell, whose farm adjoined the Newsom place, had joined with other neighbors to help Virginia and Mary look for their father. Someone carried the news of his father’s disappearance to Harry Newsom, who immediately went to join the search. When he arrived at his father’s home sometime before noon, Harry found others, including Powell, already engaged in the hunt for his father. The search continued in vain until someone, probably a member of the Newsom family, suggested that George, Celia’s lover, might be able to provide some information. That George was singled out strongly suggests that family members were aware of the nature of his relationship with Celia and suspected that jealousy might have caused him to harm Newsom.1

  The search party located George and brought him forward for questioning. William Powell, who seems to have assumed leadership of the search party despite the presence of Harry Newsom, conducted George’s interrogation. Powell’s keen interest in the fate of Newsom was very likely prompted by more than the fact that they were neighbors. The almost uncanny similarities in their lives provided Powell reasons aplenty to take a personal interest in Newsom’s disappearance. Like Newsom, Powell had migrated westward to Missouri seeking cheap, fertile land on which to raise a family and seek his fortune. Born in Maryland in 1814, he had moved with his family to Kentucky three years later, where he was raised on a farm and educated in common schools. In 1836 he married Sallie Bowles and moved to Missouri, settling in Callaway County alongside the already prospering farm of Robert Newsom. Powell, too, had suffered the loss of a wife. In fact, he had lost two wives; he lost his first wife in childbirth a year after their marriage, and in 1839 married Jane Cheatham, by whom he had four more children. Jane also died in childbirth in 1846, and within the year Powell had remarried. He chose Mary Fitzhugh as wife and mother to his children, and the couple would have seven more offspring. Powell’s financial fortunes, like those of Robert Newsom, had prospered, and by 1850 he owned some 160 acres of land valued at $800, most of which was cleared and productive. Like Newsom, Powell was also a slaveowner, in 1850 of a male slave aged 36 and a female slave 16. Thus if Powell retained the slaves he held in 1850, he would have been the owner, in 1855, of at least one adult male slave and a female slave approximately two years older than Celia. As the owner of a female slave Celia’s age, who most likely had contact with Celia (although there is no record that she did so), Powell could hardly have been an objective inquisitor.2

  George, who no doubt by this time understood the seriousness of the situation, was a reluctant witness when confronted by Powell. He certainly had every reason to be frightened by the accusations of an angry delegation of whites. He may also have wanted to protect Celia. This explanation, of course, assumes that Celia had informed George of Newsom’s fate, a circumstance that was entirely possible, even probable, given their relationship, though nothing in Celia’s trial record indicates that she had. Powell first asked George, whom he described as Newsom’s “Negro boy,” where he thought Newsom was. George replied that he did not know, but believed “it was not worth while to hunt for him any where except close around the house.” This response led Powell to conclude that George knew more than he was telling, and Powell informed George that “he had better go and show us the old man if he knew where he was.” This admonition from Powell strongly suggests he believed that George knew Newsom’s whereabouts, or what had become of him, and that George was threatened with bodily harm, or worse, if he did not immediately reveal all that he knew about Newsom’s disappearance.3

  George now confronted his own moral dilemma, for it was he who had forced Celia to confront her master. It was George’s ultimatum that if Celia wished to continue her relationship with him she would somehow have to end her sexual involvement with Newsom. And since George had felt it necessary to deliver that ultimatum, it seems reasonable to assume that Celia, for a variety of understandable reasons, including her concern for her children, had not been inclined to confront her master. While it is possible that Celia may have taken action against Newsom of her own accord, the evidence strongly suggests that she confronted Newsom only when forced to do so if she wished to continue her relationship with George. Although there is no evidence to link George directly to Newsom’s death, it is very likely that he knew of Celia’s threats to harm Newsom if he insisted on continuing to sleep with her. It is quite possible, indeed likely, that George knew that Celia had made such threats to both Newsom and his daughters. Given the size of the Newsom farm and the time that had lapsed between Newsom’s death and George’s confrontation with the search party, George very well may have been in contact with Celia that morning, and thus learned of Newsom’s gruesome fate. Even if George had been unaware of Celia’s threats against Newsom and of Newsom’s death, he would have known that Celia would come under suspicion because of the nature of her relationship to Newsom, a relationship of which he was all too aware.

  Whatever the exact nature of Powell’s threat, George undoubtedly feared for his own life and chose to sacrifice Celia rather than to protect her. George’s response indicated that he was aware that Newsom was no longer alive and that Celia was somehow involved with his fate. He informed Powell that “he believed the last walking [Newsom] had done was along the path, pointing to the path leading from the house to the Negro Cabin.” While this response could have been conjecture, the few specifics contained, especially the specific reference to Celia’s cabin, strongly suggest George had some knowledge of the events of the preceding night. Such knowledge could only have come from Celia, unless one assumes that George either participated in Newsom’s murder or had been outside Celia’s cabin, close enough to overhear the murder. Whatever the source of George’s knowledge, Powell, from this and other statements George made, concluded that Newsom “had been destroyed in the Negro Cabin.”4 How this revelation affected Powell we do not know, but if he was still the master of a young slave woman, George’s suggestions that Newsom had come to harm in Celia’s cabin must have caused him considerable personal concern.

  Alarmed by the information George had supplied, Powell and the others, including Harry Newsom, proceeded immediately to Celia’s cabin, where they expected to find the corpse of a murdered Robert Newsom. They searched the premises but found nothing. It never occurred to them to examine the ashes remaining in the cabin’s fireplace. Had they done so, the mystery of Newsom’s disappearance would have been solved and their suspicions amply confirmed. Finding nothing in the cabin, Powell and his followers then sought to question Celia. Whether because of her children, because of her illness and pregnancy, because of her love and concern for George, or because she believed she had so efficiently and thoroughly disposed of Newsom’s body that his disappearance could not be connected to her, Celia had made no effort to flee. She was easily located going about her normal duties in the kitchen of the Newsom home and brought before Powell’s tribunal of Newsom family and friends.5

  Convinced by his questioning of George that Celia knew what had happened to Newsom and suspecting the worst, Powell wasted no time in his confrontation with Celia. He was determined to use any means necessary to obtain information from her. Powell began his inquisition with accusations rather than questions. He bluntly told her that she knew what had bec
ome of Newsom and that members of the search party knew that she knew. An obvious untruth, Powell’s assertion was designed to forestall any attempt by Celia to be less than forthcoming. He also deliberately sought to break Celia’s will to resist by breaking her emotionally. Thus he prefaced his interrogation by informing her that George had told the search party enough to make them believe that “she knew where her master was.”

  If Powell expected an immediate confession from Celia he was disappointed. He had some reason to expect Celia to break easily, to feel that she would be unable to withstand his questioning. She faced the family members, friends, and neighbors of the master she had killed. She knew that members of Newsom’s family were aware that she had threatened him. She certainly would have feared for her own life and thus for the fate that would befall her children. The news of George’s cooperation with Powell and the Newsom family must have come as a shock to Celia, even if she understood the reasons for it. Under such circumstances she could hardly avoid feeling utterly alone, abandoned by the man she loved, whose demands had placed her in this position. George’s desertion would have been an especially devastating emotional blow if, as his responses to Powell indicate was entirely possible, she had that morning informed George about what had become of Newsom. Under these circumstances she would have had to take seriously Powell’s statement that the search party did, indeed, know of Newsom’s demise, and that George had told the search party all that he knew.

  Celia’s initial response to Powell’s questions was a defiant denial of any knowledge of Newsom’s activities or his whereabouts. Her adamant denial argues against the possibility that she had provided George a detailed account of what had become of Newsom, although it does not eliminate it. Indeed, if Celia believed she had so efficiently disposed of Newsom’s body that his death could never be confirmed, her denial can be seen as a way of protecting both herself and George. Whether or not she had told George of the events of the preceding night, her flat denial of any knowledge of Newsom’s fate indicates both an incredible bravery and self-confidence. This initial denial indicates that Celia believed, or hoped, that the search party would be unable to locate Newsom’s remains, and that she could deceive her inquisitors. It also strongly implies that Celia suffered no pangs of contrition.

  Angered by Celia’s staunch denials, Powell began to make threats. First he directed an unspecified threat at Celia, telling her that things would go better for her if she would tell the truth. Unmoved by these general threats against herself, Celia continued to deny Powell’s charges, insisting that she had no knowledge of what had become of Newsom. Powell then changed his strategy, appealing to Celia’s love for her children. He told her that “her children should not be taken away from her if she would tell.” This approach held no real threat for Celia, since her children certainly would have been taken from her as soon as she revealed any knowledge of Newsom’s fate. Not surprisingly, Celia again refused to confess, adamantly denying that she knew anything of Newsom’s disappearance. Powell then threatened her life, telling Celia that he “had a rope provided for her if she did not tell.” Despite these threats, Celia continued to refuse to admit any guilt and steadfastly maintained that she had no knowledge of Newsom’s activities or of his whereabouts.

  Convinced that she was lying, Powell pressed forward with his questioning, undoubtedly continuing to threaten the lives of Celia and her children. For a period of considerable, though unspecified, length, Celia retained her composure, ignored the threats, and remained adamant in her refusal to respond. Gradually, however, Powell’s insistent questioning and continued threats broke Celia’s resistance. Finally, she admitted that Newsom had come to her cabin the preceding night. Newsom, she said, had come to the window at the back of the cabin, insisting that she have sex with him. Celia told Powell that Newsom had not entered her cabin, however. Rather, she said she struck Newsom as he leaned inside the window. Still, Celia refused to admit to her inquisitors that she was responsible for Newsom’s disappearance, and continued to deny that she knew what had become of him. After she struck him, Celia continued, “he fell back on the outside and she saw nothing more of him.”

  Celia’s partial confession failed to satisfy Powell, since it neither explained Newsom’s disappearance nor helped to locate him. Yet her admission that she had seen Newsom the previous night, and that she had struck him, gave Powell an advantage. Powell resumed his interrogation, but, having acknowledged her confrontation with Newsom, Celia “refused for sometime to tell anything more.” Alone with her captors, knowing that she had been abandoned by George, and under the pressure of constant threats to herself and her children, Celia finally could no longer resist. Evidence also indicates that Celia had remained so adamant in her refusal to confess because she feared that if she told Powell what had happened, she would be killed on the spot by members of the Newsom family. Celia’s inquisitors were merely a collection of family members, neighbors, and friends. The group had no legal standing, and no representative of the law or the court system was present. Although it is doubtful that Celia would have known her rights under Missouri law, she certainly would have understood that confessing to Newsom’s murder, especially to the details of disposing of his body, in the presence of two of his adult sons would place her life in immediate danger. Celia promised to reveal what she knew about Newsom upon the condition that Powell “send the two men out of the room.” The two men, although not identified in Powell’s testimony, were undoubtedly Harry and David Newsom, both of whom had arrived by this time to help search for their father. Powell convinced the two to leave, and Celia proceeded to give him a detailed confession as she had promised.6

  The manner in which Powell responded to Celia’s gruesome revelation can only be imagined, but her confession was certain to have impressed upon him the dangers of holding human beings in bondage. If he was himself the master of a young slave girl, and even if Powell treated his slaves decidedly better than did Newsom, Celia’s confession must have at least caused Powell to consider how his female slave regarded him. Whatever his thoughts about the personal significance of the confession his threats had forced from Celia, Powell continued to maintain control of the situation. He promptly summoned the others, including David, Harry, and Mary Newsom and Virginia and Coffee Waynescot, and began a search for Newsom’s remains to confirm Celia’s story. Confirmation was quickly obtained. The search party, accompanied by George, located Newsom’s ashes where Celia had said Coffee Waynescot had placed them, along the pathway leading past her cabin to the stables.

  Their worst fears now confirmed, members of the search party began the gruesome task of extracting from the ashes the bits and pieces of Newsom’s bones the flames had failed to consume. As the bone fragments were found, several members of the party, including Virginia, placed them in the hands of Harry Newsom, who wrapped his father’s bones in paper and stored them in a box for safekeeping. Virginia found her father’s gallus buckle in the ashes, along with “buttons my sister [Mary] sewed on my fathers’ breeches a few days before his death.” George discovered and turned over to the white members of the search party Newsom’s pocketknife, its handle burned black by the flames.7

  After the party had sifted through the ashes found beside the pathway, Virginia Waynescot and others once again entered Celia’s cabin to retrieve the bones that Celia had said she hid beneath the hearth. Virginia turned over a large hearth stone and discovered yet more of her father’s bones. She also met a yet more gruesome discovery. In searching for bones she noticed that “the ashes were caked up in the fireplace.” She broke open the lumps of ash, which “looked as if something had been burned in them.” Once broken, the lumps of ash emitted a “strange smell.” What remained of Robert Newsom, which formed the lumps of ash Virginia Waynescot held in her hands, fortunately looked “nothing like flesh.” In a remarkable display of composure under such circumstances, Virginia Newsom calmly replaced the clumps of ash that had been her father’s flesh in the fireplace.
She then placed the bones of her father retrieved from the hearth in the box of bones her brother had given her. She took the box filled with Newsom’s remains to her room, where she kept it upon her bureau until an inquest into her father’s death could be held. Into another box she put the personal items found by the search party: her father’s gallus buckle, his buttons, and his knife. This box, too, she kept in her room until the authorities arrived.8