Historical Romance of the American Negro Part 3

Musing in this way, we pa.s.sed the cities of Memphis, Helena, Vicksburg, Natchez, Baton-Rouge and Donaldsonville, and, at last, amidst a great deal of noise and excitement, came to the wharf at New Orleans.

During all this glorious and enchanting travel from Buffalo by rail and steamboat, like a good and faithful wife, I never forgot to write every second day to my brave and beloved Tom, and I knew well that he would be greatly interested in hearing of my progress down the Ohio and the Mississippi. He afterwards told me that he used to read these letters of mine over, and over, and over again, and sometimes before he went to sleep, he would again light the lamp and read the last "arrival" from end to end once more.

Here, then, at last, the good boat Natchez has brought us all safe and sound to New Orleans, in the Sunny South. There is no snow here, and fruits and flowers are to be found all the year round. The climate is almost tropical, and everything out of doors breathes of orange blossoms and all those exotics found in the warm climates. The whole scene had an irresistible charm for me, and I felt a pleasure in being in the state of Louisiana that I felt quite unable to describe.

But even the charms of nature and the strange French air of the people did not produce the greatest impression on me here. That which produced the greatest impression of all, was the mighty river Mississippi itself, and the immense traffic carried over its irresistible waters. It is true that its banks are quite plain and homely when compared with the beautiful Ohio in its upper and middle courses. But then the Mississippi is so big, that it is always majestic, solemn and grand. You are never tired of looking at the immense and gigantic "creature," and especially where it has constructed for itself a high embankment, cast up by the silt and overflow of its muddy waters, in the lofty bosom of which the mighty river flows as in an elevated ca.n.a.l.

And thus the Natchez was high up above the level of the plains on our right and left hand, and we could look down on the valley of the Mississippi from the deck of our palatial steamboat. Oh, the Mississippi is a glorious sight to behold, always immense, solemn and grand!

The next thing that attracted me so much was the immense traffic that came rolling down from the North, and that ascended the stream. When I came off its mighty waters, I felt as if I was coming up from a wild, riotous and troubled sea. And though forty-six years have now fled and gone, the tremendous impression made upon my heart and soul by the Father of Waters remains. I therefore cried, Ho for the Mississippi! as I walked the gang-plank into the city.

My dear and beloved mother, Harriet Jackson, was one of those religious women who would go to church if she went nowhere else. She went to the A. M. E. Church whenever she could get there, and I had ascertained before I left Riverside Hall, that she attended the services of that congregation that lay nearest the mansion of the family to whom she had been sold. I cannot say that she belonged to that family, for slavery was nothing but a system of robbery in its best estate. She had been sold down the river to an ancient French family-Roman Catholics-but, in their indifferent, careless way, they allowed mother to go to her own A.

M. E. Church. She was so steady and devoted in her ways, and so very remote from Kentucky, that they regarded it as an impossibility that she would ever even dream of making her escape; and never, never, that any one would ever come after her in this far-away part of the great world.

First and foremost, then, I made inquiries from those who could speak English, for the name of the pastor, and found it with no great difficulty. (As my complexion was so light and fair, I pa.s.sed for one of the whites of the city. There are many thousands of "whites" in the South like me). I informed the reverend gentleman, when I first met him, that I wished to have a private, confidential talk with him. I felt that I was indeed conversing with a father, and there was not the slightest fear. He informed me at once that my dear mother attended his church, and was a warm-hearted and enthusiastic member of the same. He said she would be at the prayer-meeting that very night, and named the hour when it began; but while he should be glad to see her obtain her freedom, it was the part of prudence that it should not even be known that he knew anything about it, as they might murder him outright for even holding his tongue! To this I replied that no doubt I could manage very well myself, and that mother would perhaps have some amendments to put to my own schemes after we met. In the meantime, I engaged a room with a nice family, being fully resolved to stay there till such time as mother could make her escape. I depended upon a well-laid plan, and to carry out that plan with boldness. When I got myself settled in my temporary home, and had written another letter to Tom, I walked out to see the far-famed city of New Orleans, and indeed I obtained a pretty good idea of it before my return in the evening. New Orleans is indeed a wonderful place. But I need not take up the reader's time in describing this quaint French city in America. The kind reader knows all about it already. What I am most of all interested in at this time is the meeting with my beloved mother, and getting her away from slavery into a land where she shall be free to come and go, and do as she pleases, just as I am doing!

Many thousands of slaves obtained their freedom by running away from their owners; some of them encountered great difficulties on the way, while others seemed to meet with no difficulties at all. I am also safe in saying that many a hundred more might have gained their liberty, but they were simply afraid to venture-they were too timid to take the first step, or they were deterred from going by being unable to make up their minds to leave parents, wives and children behind them. The latter step was proven over and over again by their running away, obtaining their freedom, but afterwards becoming so homesick that they actually returned and surrendered themselves again to slavery, being unable to stay away from those they loved most upon earth.

The African is both pleased and cursed by being possessed of a very warm heart, and tender and loving affections. This is indeed a blessing and a curse at one and the same time. We need not go far for the proof, for I myself am a living witness to the same, and here I was at New Orleans after my dearly-beloved and tender-hearted mother, whom I was unable to live without; and then behold what I have suffered for the want of her for more than two years-wrenched from me by the diabolical ways of slavery, and the malice and spite of Mrs. Jackson! If my pinings and regrets have been so great, longing day and night after my dear mother, how much worse must that dear mother have felt for the loss of me? I dare not even look at the picture! But our prayers have been heard by the Lord; for He always hears those who love Him, and the hour for the prayer-meeting is drawing nigh; the shades of night are at last falling upon the long autumn day, and I find myself in the dusk in the neighborhood of the A. M. E. Church, watching for the approach of my mother, as maiden never waited for the coming of her lover advancing among the trees to the well-known trysting-place.

All things come to those who wait, and here she comes at last! She is as sweet and graceful as ever, and her step as light as the greyhound's! I advanced to meet her, first looking cautiously around into the increasing darkness, that no other was too near. The over-hanging trees favored our meeting as I came up to her, and whispered softly in her ear, "Mother!" We took each other by the hand, and kissed one another, when she hurriedly drew me round into a side entrance to the bas.e.m.e.nt and rear of the church, where, entering a small cla.s.sroom which would not be used for the night, we sat down together, had one very long and close embrace, and the happiness of that blessed and speechless half hour seemed to me to equal all that which might be called out of an ordinary lifetime. "Sweet the moments, rich in blessing, which within thy courts I spend!" The remaining hour was pa.s.sed in conversation, during which we gave and received a complete history of the time that had elapsed since the time mother was sold down the river.

"There will be no difficulty whatever about my getting away. They are old people, and have not the remotest idea that I would ever make the attempt. The best time for us to leave will be at this hour a week to-night, and, my dear daughter, there is a big leather trunk that is called mine, and which stands in my little bed-room upstairs, in an out-of-the-way wing of the house, which I will manage to send empty to your lodgings, whither I will send or bring my entire wardrobe myself. I must not go without clothes, as they will be both necessary and useful for me for years to come, if G.o.d my life shall spare. In the meantime write Tom and give him all my love, and tell him when he may expect us at home."

To all of this I most heartily agreed, and I was more happy and lightsome than a b.u.t.terfly. We came out before the congregation, and another warm kiss and embrace under the trees, then mother steered away homewards for the old French mansion, and I took my way to my lodgings, where the people received me with great affection. I had told them that I was married, and wore a gold ring to that effect, because without giving them that needful piece of information, young beaux are bad for coming around seventeen-year-old girls, and I did not wish any of the kind New Orleans flunkeys to be coming around me with any of their sweet kind of foolishness. When I got into my bed-room, I found the flowers of the Sunny South perfuming the whole place like cologne, and I slept like the angels there. Seven days and nights came and went. Mother and I met one another as often as it was discreet and prudent for us to do. There was not the remotest suspicion of her approaching departure-much less of the direction which we meant to take. Like Tom and myself leaving Riverside Hall, our plans were well-laid and matured, our hearts were stout and brave within us, and we carried things out with a bold front.

As the New York pa.s.senger boat Columbia lay at her pier with steam up in readiness for her departure on the following Wednesday night, while the streets were full of horses, wagons, porters, pa.s.sengers, and all the rest of it; while late pa.s.sengers were hurrying into the office to get their tickets for New York, and boys were shouting the latest edition of the city papers, two ladies in half mourning and heavily veiled, drove up in a carriage, alighted in haste, had a heavy leather trunk carried on board, and the elder of the two (a lady seemingly about thirty-six or thirty-seven years of age) made for the ticket office and procured tickets for two, and a corresponding cabin for New York. These two ladies, the reader will understand, were my own dear mother and myself.

No notice was taken of us in any way. All was noise, bustle and confusion about the Columbia. We were shown to our cabin like the rest, and felt at home at once. It was growing dusk, the last bell was rung, and with anxious hearts and high-beating hopes we cut loose from the sh.o.r.e, and plunged out into the great river. The night being warm and balmy, as is usual in the Sunny South, mother and I went on deck to see our own departure, and to watch the pa.s.sing vessels coming to and going from the port of New Orleans. Here, in taking leave of the "Queen City of the South," as the metropolis of Louisiana is called, I must say that I was most delightfully impressed. I had been so very kindly treated on all hands, and there was so much to charm the senses about this famous French city. As for mother, the depth of the ocean was as nothing compared with the depth of her contentment at getting away with her beloved Beulah, the separation from whom had given her so much sorrow.

We were only sorry that we could not see the usual sights along the Mississippi river to the same extent, as if we had left in the morning.

But that was impossible, and I think mother and I had great reason to thank G.o.d that all things fitted in so well at the hour of our departure. It was the night and hour for the prayer-meeting at the A. M.

E. Church-Wednesday night-with the good boat Columbia leaving at the same hour. In this crooked world it is a difficult thing to make all things work together just as we want them. We did indeed want to see our poor, oppressed race at work among the sugar-canes, the cotton and the rice, and the orange and fig-trees, and all the rest, which could only be done rightly by day. We did indeed see plenty of their humble quarters and cabins along the sh.o.r.es, and some little way back into the country, and knew them well by the lights in the windows. Alas, alas!

for these poor, dear, miserable creatures! There they lay, no doubt, sound asleep-sleeping in the sleep of the oppressed-poor old men and women, laboring and toiling their lives away under a Southern sun, that oppressors may feast and riot at their expense. But there is a G.o.d in heaven, and we snuffled both war and freedom in the wind. Even a child could foresee all that.

We retired early to bed. When were two women ever so happy on a New York boat on the Lower Mississippi? It was enough to make the angels laugh for joy, to think of it! Our departure was another installment in swelling the volume of Southern wrath to break up the Union, as the Fugitive Slave Bill would not work in their favor. Mother and I-murmuring our thanks to Almighty G.o.d-soon fell into a happy sleep, while the Columbia was ploughing her way down the Mississippi, and moving out at the mouth of one of the pa.s.ses, as they are called, into the Gulf of Mexico. When we came back on deck next morning, the weather was most delightful. The water was intensely clear-indeed it was as clear as crystal! All things smacked of the Southern seas-of Southern people, and all things Southern. In due course of time the west end of the Isle of Cuba hove in sight, and soon the Columbia tied up in the harbor of Havana.

As the Columbia was to remain a few hours at Havana, we were permitted to go ash.o.r.e to see the most famous city in the West Indies. The tropical vegetation was all that the heart could wish, but what interested mother and me the most was the quaint old city of the Spaniards, and the different races of people who inhabited the "Ever Faithful Isle," as it is called. Here we found Spaniards from old Spain, Spanish creoles, free colored people and slaves. I hated the very sight of slavery here in the Spanish island, though I have always understood that slavery was less cruel here than in the Southern States. But all the same it is slavery, and not freedom. Almighty G.o.d certainly never meant that one man should own another. Besides, these odious Spaniards, a lying, thieving nation, have promised the civilized nations of the world a hundred times to abolish slavery, but they have always broken their promises, and they will continue to break them until they are compelled to give their slaves up by force. Spain is a dark, suspicious nation, reduced to the last stages of poverty, but swollen with ignorance and pride. But this present time of writing is 1897. We may next take a retrospect, as it is forty-two years since mother and I were at Havana. Poor Spain has already lost all her slaves, because she could keep them no longer; and the Cuban war has now lasted for over two years, during which the patriots have gained possession of the whole island, except a few fortified towns like Havana. I will not here narrate the sights, sounds and scenes that came under our observation in the metropolitan city of Cuba. I will just mention that I was infinitely amused at the system of courtship that was in vogue in their parts. The young men went to see their fair lovers, and conversed with them through grated windows, the young ladies being inside the bars, and the young gentlemen standing outside on the street. I never think of these funny scenes without laughter!

The Columbia got up steam once more, and we got out of the harbor of Havana, pa.s.sed through the Florida Straight, and in a few days were off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. All these places were new to us, and as the fall weather was of the most delightful description, my dear mother and I spent a great deal of time on deck. At last Sandy Hook was pa.s.sed, and we shortly after landed in New York.

CHAPTER III.

_Mrs. Lincoln Brings Her Mother to Buffalo-Warm Welcome Home-Harriet Jackson married to Mr. J. B. Sutherland-Letter From Mrs. Sarah Jackson and Beulah's Answer-Beulah, Mrs. Sutherland and Tom at a Great Abolition Meeting-A Famous Gathering of the Clans._

Our delight at being once more on sh.o.r.e in our own country, and so near home, and for the first time in the full possession of our own freedom, filled our hearts and souls with the wildest enthusiasm, and from the very bottom of our hearts we blessed and praised the Lord for His mercy endureth forever.

We had intended to send a telegram to my own dear Tom at Buffalo, but we changed our minds, and determined to take him by surprise. Besides, when we had reconsidered the matter, we did not deem it altogether prudent to send a telegram, because there were many wealthy families in New York, who owned thousands of slaves in the South, and in some respects this great city was even more dangerous than Georgia and Louisiana. So we left on the first train for Buffalo, where we arrived in due time, and hired a cab that took us home. Tom had left the key with a good neighbor, so we opened the door, went in, and prepared tea for him by the time he came home. It is very true that we had more need of going to bed than to thus attend to the work of the house; but we were so excited with our freedom, our successful journey from New Orleans, and the exciting times right ahead, that we never thought of fatigue, but only the present enjoyment.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _SCENES IN BUFFALO._]

At last we saw Tom coming up the street, when such a scene ensued as it would take the very angels of heaven to tell. We sat up to a late hour that night, and seemed quite unwilling to break up and retire for the night. The pastor of the church, his good lady, and all the friends came flocking round to see us, and the rejoicing over our mother's safe arrival from the land of slavery was both loud and deep. When we next went to church, the interest there was most unbounded, and the enthusiasm ran higher than the waves of the sea. We made no secret of anything. Abolition was now under full swing; the "Border Ruffians" were now in Kansas, and the temper of the whole North was up, that slavery should come no further. Therefore our white and colored friends came on in droves to church to see mother, and welcome her to Buffalo, and prayer, praise and hymns of rejoicing were kept up till a late hour.

Praise ye the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever!

It is sometimes a very difficult thing for a young person like myself at this time to know what to do for the best, lest I should be doing wrong.

It has often been said that a woman cannot keep a secret, and I am bound to confess that I had hard work to hold myself back at this time from writing to my father and telling him the good news of mother's escape from slavery. In the secret of his heart I knew well that he would rejoice to hear it; but Mrs. Jackson might get hold of the letter, and that was where the trouble came in. In fact, so far as unruffling her feelings was concerned, I did not care whether she saw my letter or not!

I certainly intended to pen no falsehoods, and saw no good reason why any one should object to the simple truth. Thus openly to publish our whereabouts might have endangered mother, Tom and myself, because the Fugitive Slave Bill was on the National Statute books. It is true that some of the Southerners had been up to the far North after their fugitives, and tried hard to carry them back to slavery; but though the public officers were vigorously called on to do their duty, according to the letter of the law, the general public arose against such arrests, and the slave hunters had to go home again to the South without their prey, avowing and swearing that this would never be a country anyhow till slavery extended from the Lakes to the Gulf. There was, therefore, no real cause for fear on account of either mother, Tom or myself. I had promised my father to write again, and besides he had sent me a present of fifty dollars, which I was bound to acknowledge, and then my description of our first visit to Niagara had been broken off in the middle. There was another thing that would deter Mrs. Jackson from sending any expedition after us, and that was the fact that we were right on the Canadian border, there being nothing between us and the British dominions but the Niagara river. Indeed this was the true reason why my own dear Tom and I never came to a halt till we reached the beautiful city of Buffalo. Upon the least hint of man-hunters being on our trail, we had nothing to do but steer across the river, where we could have a glorious holiday among our friends, and come back again to Buffalo as soon as ever our pursuers had returned home.

One thing was certain-if I were going to write at all, I must write soon, or let it slide altogether. Of course, I could never make up my mind to follow the latter alternative, so I took my pen in hand and sat down and penned the following epistle:

"BUFFALO, N. Y., October, 1855.

"To Lemuel Jackson, Esquire,

"My Dear Father:-I am sure it shows very bad manners in me to be so very slow in answering your thrice-welcomed letter. I am under a thousand obligations to you for your present to my own dear Tom and me on the occasion of our happy wedding. We consider that you have indeed been most mindful of us, and we return you our warmest thanks. We are both well, and Tom has a good situation on Delaware avenue, the princ.i.p.al residence street in Buffalo.

"The last time I wrote you, I was giving you a description of our first visit to Niagara Falls, and was interrupted in the middle of it by Tom's coming home to tea, in company with our pastor and his wife. I am now desirous of finishing the narrative, but before I do so, I will tell you something that will indeed surprise you.

"You will remember the fits of sadness and depression I was subject to every now and then after dear mother was sent down the river to New Orleans. My happy marriage had suspended these attacks altogether for a time; but one day in the beginning of the fall, they returned in great force. That was the first attack, and after Tom and I had discussed the matter over, it was at last fully decided that I must not have a second.

If you wish to hear all the particulars of what followed, I am quite willing to give you them; but in the meantime-after your own style of writing-I will be brief. I proceeded to New Orleans, rescued mother from slavery, and brought her safe and sound home to Buffalo on the steamer "Columbia," by way of Havana and New York City. This successful and happy event has caused the liveliest satisfaction to dear mother, to Tom and myself, and to the entire population of Buffalo, so far as they have become acquainted with it. Tom is quite pleased to have such a delightful mother-in-law in the house, and all three work most harmoniously together.

"In my letter, dearest papa, I promised to give you the rest of the account of our first visit to Niagara Falls. As, however, I have so very much to say, and as I think it may please you better, instead of giving you the rest of that most delightful narration and description in my own words, I will-on Tom's recommendation-send you a most capital 'Guide to Buffalo and Niagara Falls, with Numerous Ill.u.s.trations.'

"I beg leave now to draw these few lines to a close. Mother and Tom write in lots of love to you, and I am sure I shall be delighted to receive even half a dozen lines from you at any time that you can make it convenient, or feel disposed to write your dear daughter. And I am yours in all affection,

"BEULAH JACKSON."

Having written the above letter, I posted it at once, and no doubt but it was received in a couple of days and read with great interest by my own dear father, and also by Mrs. Jackson, though with very different feelings from his. I was perfectly well aware that there was an abundance of pent-up wrath in her imperious temper, and that it would explode one of these fine days!

As my mother, Harriet Jackson, was a woman of great handsomeness, beauty and a thousand graces, and still comparatively young, being only thirty-seven, her hand was sought by a settled and most honorable man named Mr. John B. Sutherland, a resident of Buffalo, and a member of the A. M. E. Church. They had a nice wedding at the church on Vine street, in the presence of an applauding and highly-respectable company. It was a perfect union of hearts, like Jacob and Rachel's over again. As we had plenty of room, and were unwilling to have mother set up a different establishment, Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland took up their residence with us, and all things went on most harmoniously together. The Almighty seemed to pour His richest blessings upon us all, and we tried to honor and glorify His holy name in all that we did. Our experience in slavery had been light, and we were now only too thankful to be free.

One day in the month of November, Tom received the following letter from Mrs. Jackson at Riverside Hall, though it was intended for all three of us:

"RIVERSIDE HALL, Near Louisville, November, 1855.

"Mr. Thomas Lincoln,

"Dear Tom:-We duly received all your letters, and also the Buffalo newspaper with an account of the marriage of Harriet to Mr. John B.

Sutherland. That would all be right enough if you were white people, or even free people of color, but the whole three of you are neither one nor the other. You are our goods and chattels, and our runaway slaves, and we have decided to bring you back, or else you must pay us the reduced sum of one thousand dollars apiece; that is, two thousand dollars, when we will give you your free papers, and a full discharge.

As your master and mistress, we are herein doing you a great favor, for we could easily get two thousand dollars apiece for each of you, Tom and Beulah, in the public market. I suppose you are aware that the Fugitive Slave Bill is the law of the land, and in case you do not give us satisfaction immediately, we will proceed to put the law in force, and either bring you back to Riverside Hall, or sell you down the river.

Now, Tom, a word to the wise is sufficient. We shall look for a letter from you soon.

"I am yours respectfully,