Charles Fowler - Historical Romance of the American Negro

Musing in this way, we passed 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 canal.

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 passed 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 basement and rear of the church, where, entering a small classroom 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 passed 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.