Charles Fowler - Historical Romance of the American Negro

"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 God 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 butterfly. 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 passenger 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, passengers, and all the rest of it; while late passengers 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 shore, 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 passing 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 God 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 shores, 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 God 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 God – 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 passes, 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 ashore 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 God 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, passed 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 passed, and we shortly after landed in New York.