This large-hearted woman--Eunice Hastings--had her horse taken from her, robbed of the goods she had purchased, and, after experiencing almost death at the hands of the rebel women, was released and turned out penniless, and without the means of reaching her home in the country; when Clotelle, who had just arrived at the dilapidated and poorly kept hotel, met her, and, learning the particulars of her case, offered assistance to the injured woman, which brought down upon her own head the condemnation of the secesh population of the place.

However, Clotelle purchased a fine horse from the landlord, gave it to Miss Hastings, who, after securing some articles for which she had come to Greenville, left town under cover of night, and escaped further molestation.

This act of kindness to a helpless sister at once stirred up the vilest feelings of the people.
"The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules." As has already been said, there was nothing in the appearance of Clotelle to indicate that a drop of African blood coursed through her veins, except, perhaps, the slight wave in the hair, and the scarcely perceptible brunettish tinge upon the countenance.

She passed as a rebel lady; yet the inhabitants of Greenville could not permit sympathy with, and aid to, a Union woman to pass unnoticed, and therefore resolved on revenge.
"Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils." Clotelle's person, trunks, and letters were all searched with the hope and expectation of finding evidences of a spy.

Nothing of the kind being found, she was then rigorously interrogated as to her sympathies with the two contending armies.