The Man Behind St. Clare

St. Clare seems to be a conundrum. Where does he really stand? Is he an advocate for slavery or abolition? Before I get ahead of myself, I suppose I should introduce St. Clare to you.

St. Clare is the father of the beautiful angel, Evangeline. He is a young aristocrat from New Orleans. Stowe introduces us to St. Clare on the riverboat that takes Uncle Tom farther from home and into the depths of slavery. Evangeline (affectionately called Eva by all who know her) persuades her father to buy Uncle Tom because she wants to “make him happy.” Pressured by his devotion to Eva and his debt to Uncle Tom for saving Eva’s life, St. Clare buys Uncle Tom from Haley for $1300. Eva’s wish is granted and Uncle Tom avoids further unhappiness of being sold at a New Orleans slave auction.

But who is this man? This young aristocrat who dotes upon his daughter to the point of buying a slave without thinking of the cost? Truly Augustine St. Clare represents a paradox of a Southern slave-owner.

St. Clare’s history is a sad one. As a sickly youth he left his father’s humid plantation in Louisiana to the cool, healing air of Vermont. He was a passionate young man who preferred beauty and art to business. While in the North, St. Clare fell in love and became engaged to a  young, beautiful Northern girl. He returned to Louisiana to prepare for his marriage and soon received word that his fiancée had married another. Pained and “stung to madness, he vainly hoped, as many another has done, to fling the whole thing from his heart by one desperate effort” (139). He threw himself into societal life and was soon married to an heiress of the South. Life seemed to be moving on when, during his honeymoon, St. Clare received word that his true love was still unmarried—her guardians had deceived the couple to prevent the marriage. With such great pain he responded to the letter: “I have received yours,—but too late. I believed all I heard. I was desperate. I am married, and all is over. Only forget,--it is all that remains for either of us” (140).

Oh, St. Clare! How I pity you! Yet how faithful your love seems to be—you care for the selfish Marie though your heart lies in the North. Is that why you cling to little Evangeline?

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