Read Ebook: Historical Romance of the American Negro by Fowler Charles Henry

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"Last night we were called in to witness a happy wedding, which reminded us of that of Jacob and Rachel. The contracting parties were Mr. Thomas Lincoln and Miss Beulah Jackson.

"This Thomas Lincoln, aged twenty-seven, a fine, tall young man, was formerly the house steward and general factotum of Lemuel Jackson, Esq., of Riverside Hall, below Louisville, Ky. The beautiful seventeen-year-old bride is the daughter of Mr. Jackson himself, by one Harriet, a slave woman of many graces, whom Mrs. Jackson two years ago, through jealousy, caused to be sold to New Orleans.

"Miss Beulah was indeed 'a bride adorned for her husband,' and the ladies had her duly arrayed in orange blossoms and the regulation wedding costume. 'The Flower Girl of Riverside Hall,' as she has been often called, it seems, carried a beautiful bouquet. The church was filled to suffocation, and the interest in the ceremony was intense.

"After the knot was tied, a gentleman advanced to the front, placed a five-dollar bill on the table, and called for a wedding present 'for these two ex-slaves from the State of Kentucky.' The call was readily responded to, and a good sum was contributed. The young couple passed the night at the home of the Rev. Mr. Robinson, who performed the ceremony. They leave this morning for Columbus, Ohio, and points beyond. Lincoln stated that he could have left Kentucky at almost any time, but remained until he could find an opportunity to assist in the escape of the girl.

"As the immense assemblage at the A. M. E. Church looked upon this splendid couple, all hearts were filled with compassion to think that the South should call such men and women 'goods and chattels.' It was the outspoken opinion that a day of reckoning is coming; a day of war, a holy war, sent by God Himself, that will end this system of robbery and oppression."

I bought several copies of the paper that contained the account of our wedding, and posted one to Riverside Hall, one to our friends at New Albany, and another to our benefactors in the little cabin by the creek. Next morning at breakfast the fun was delightful, and I was obliged to laugh when Mrs. Robinson called me "The flower girl of Riverside Hall." Breakfast over, our host and hostess insisted on accompanying us to the station to see us off, and here we took leave of our kind friends, whom we felt that we could never thank enough.

As we steamed away for Columbus, all things were still new and delightful, and I never tired of beholding the fair face of nature as our train wound along the banks of the Little Miami. I was immensely pleased with the beautiful State of Ohio, its fine churches along the way, its fair and fertile farms, and all its magnificent forest-clad hills. In due time we arrived at Columbus, the State capital, and were much impressed with the beauty of the sweet little city.

We continued our journey on through Ohio until we crossed into Pennsylvania, by the shores of Lake Erie, that flowed away towards Canada like a little inland sea. Thus we continued on to Buffalo, New York, where we left the train. Here we determined to settle down, at least for some time. For a few days we put up at a friend's house, for we were both very much fatigued, indeed, with our long journey and its incidental bustle and confusion. I was only seventeen years old at this time, the most romantic age of a woman's life--or rather she is standing on the borderland with girlhood just behind her, and all the joys of womanhood and matrimony just before. Anticipation invests all things with the glories of the rainbow. It is certainly a good time to get married, for then a girl's nature is soft and pliable, and she has had neither time nor opportunity to become possessed of cast-iron ways of her own.

During the few days that we were resting ourselves we became acquainted with a few most worthy colored families who belonged to the A. M. E. Church on Vine street, as good and loving a congregation as I have found up to this year. God bless that loving flock!

Just at this time Tom and I had a good deal of conversation about my writing a letter to my father at Riverside Hall. If it was to be done at all, it had better be done soon, lest the door between us be permanently closed. Had my father done the right thing he would have married my mother, Harriet. She was ten times more amiable and lady-like than Mrs. Jackson, a woman whom he married for fashion's sake; but he never did or could love her as he did my mother, or even myself. It was the identical case of Rachel and Joseph over again. If all the rest had died, and Harriet and Beulah had remained alive, it would have been all right to him. Thus were there two wives in the same house--Rachel and Leah once more. The one was loved and the other hated. So it came to pass that through jealousy that raged in her heart, Mrs. Jackson had my beloved mother sold down the river to New Orleans.

I ran no risk in writing to Lemuel Jackson, as everyone at Riverside opened his own letters. So we decided that I should write home in a week or two, when we were settled down to practical house-keeping. And, besides all that, the old gentleman liked a good letter, and I knew mine would be doubly welcome.

It is very true that the Fugitive Slave Bill was on the statute books of Congress, but that bill was practically a dead letter, and it was now only one chance in ten thousand that anyone would attempt to come after us all the way to Buffalo. It is quite true that immediately after the passage of that infamous bill there were several fugitive slaves caught close to the border, and carried back to slavery, but the true spirit of the North arose against such Southern barbarism, and after a few slave-hunters had been shot, the South ceased to send her couriers even to the borderland, but remained at home nursing her sullen wrath, cursing the Underground Railroad and all Christian abolitionism, and flaunting her oft-repeated threat in the face of the nation, that unless she could have her own way in the Union she would have it out of it.

We did not consider, therefore, that we had any risk to run in settling down here in Buffalo, or even in writing to my father and giving him our street address. Mrs. Jackson would have no doubt been capable of setting the man-hunters on our track, but father, though a rich man, would never have made the outlay of money necessary. Besides it would have exposed his shame and disgrace.

In the meantime, then, we rented a small and cosy cottage not far from the sweet little church on Vine street, furnished it cheaply, but comfortably, and at the appointed time we invited the pastor of the church and his good wife to come and spend the evening and take tea, that the Lord might bless us in our happy home.

After we had been settled in Buffalo about a month, I wrote the following letter to my father, which he duly received:

"Lemuel Jackson, Esq., Riverside Hall, Ky.

"My dear Father:--

"With great pleasure I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines. It is but natural that your daughter should take a delight in writing to you, and we have lived too long under the same roof for me not to know that you will be glad to receive a letter from me. I can never forget you, my own dear father.

"I have great pleasure in informing you that Tom is a very thoughtful, considerate and loving husband, and is most indulgent and kind to your own dear Beulah. If I had searched the whole United States I don't believe that I could ever have found a better man than Tom. He promised to be good to me when we were married in Cincinnati, and I believe he always will.

"The first thing we did, after we had furnished our cosy little cottage and settled down, was to join the sweet little A. M. E. Church on Vine street. We desired to have the approbation of the Almighty upon ourselves and on our works and ways. Therefore we joined the church of God first of all. I do believe that if people would always put God first they would have more luck.

"I don't know how it is, but the people of Buffalo, both white and colored have taken a very great liking indeed to Tom and myself from the very first hour when we left the train here and set our wandering feet within the Queen City of the Lakes. The sweet ladies of Buffalo have been here to see me in numbers, and I also have been to their homes, where I am received as a daughter or a younger sister. Indeed my lines have fallen in pleasant places, and I cannot but believe that the good Lord sent us to Buffalo.

"We have been over on a visit to Canada, which lies across the Niagara River, for the city of Buffalo, as you are aware, lies at the foot of Lake Erie just where it enters the Niagara River. There is a settlement of colored people at St. Catherine's, in Canada, only a few miles back from the river, and Tom and I were greatly interested in them.

"They all fled from slavery in the South, and many of them have come up on the rough side of the mountain. I can assure you, when Tom and I saw the marks of their horrible treatment, we praised the Lord that our own cases had been so mild and bearable at Riverside Hall.

"We consider that we are lucky in coming here at this delightful season of the year, for the pleasant month of May seems to surpass all the other months of the year for sweetness and flowers. All around Lake Erie and the Niagara River, both in Canada and the State of New York, the fair face of Nature is just blooming; all the woods are dressed in their mantle of green, the countless birds sing among the branches, and all things hereabout clearly shows that the self-same God that has adorned the State of Kentucky has done as much in these parts.

"I am not aware whether you have ever visited Niagara Falls or not, as I have never heard you say, but whether or not, it is a most wonderful place, and one well worth the trouble of coming even from the ends of the earth to see. It is well for Buffalo and all the towns and villages that lie around about this river, that they are so located, that is, so near the falls, because there is always a great tide of people coming here from every land beneath the sun, almost; and these same people seem never, never to grow weary of one of the most stupendous works that the great Creator has made.

"After we had settled down at home here, and before Tom went to work as house steward in one of the first mansions on Delaware Avenue, the leading avenue for private residences in Buffalo, we took a special day and went to see Niagara Falls. As we had read and heard so much of these celebrated falls, I might almost say since the time we were born, we were both in a state of great excitement on the morning of this expedition. Really, my dear papa, there are some things that we really never, never can forget.

"There were hundreds on the early morning train with us--almost all strangers, and all in a state of highest excitement. We soon drew out of the railway station, and left the city behind. Now we were on the bank of the Niagara River, which flows on almost a perfect level with the fields, and on the opposite, or Canadian side, the tall pines were beautiful to behold. As we drew near to the station at the falls, the roaring of the mighty waters struck with great force upon our astonished ears, and when we got out, what astonished us more and more was the grand stampede of every person down the road in the direction of the great river. No need to ask which way to go; we had but to follow the sound. At last, through the tall trees we beheld the flying waters, and there we saw Niagara Falls before us in all their grand and terrible array!

"For about three-quarters of a mile above where we stood, the Rapids of Niagara came thundering down the steep incline, and the great waves leaped like the waves of a troubled ocean. It was just one continuous and eternal yell. I was completely dumfounded. I could do nothing but quote from the Bible, and shout the praises of the great Creator. But who heard me then? For the Rapids made such a noise that nobody else could hear!

"The American Fall, on our own side, is the smaller one; the opposite, or Canadian Fall, which assumes the shape of a gigantic horseshoe, is the grandest one. The waters are deeply green, and at the top are said to be eighteen feet deep. Oh, my! What a place it is, to be sure!

"We now crossed a light wooden bridge that connects our side with Goat Island. This portion of the Rapids of Niagara was now just under our feet, and it required all the nerve we had to allow us to even look down upon the flying, yelling, and most tremendous waters! This is one of the places to which so many come for the purpose of committing suicide. But we are Christians, my dear father, and we could never think of doing such a very foolish thing.

"My dear papa, I shall have to stop now, and continue my narrative at another time. Here comes Tom home for his tea, and our minister and his wife along with him. Our love to you all. Au revoir!

"From your most affectionate daughter,

"BEULAH LINCOLN."

I ran to the nearest box and posted my letter, and in ten days received the following reply from my dear papa:

RIVERSIDE HALL, NEAR LOUISVILLE, June, 1855.

"Mrs. Beulah Lincoln,

"My Dear Daughter:--

"I duly received your nice, kind and most welcome letter. I am heartily glad to hear that you are both in good health, and so very comfortable in every way. I did not take your sudden leaving so much to heart as you might imagine--I mean in the way of vexation--but Mrs. Jackson was so much disturbed that she has not recovered from the effects of it yet, as she did not think you and Tom would leave us. However, now that you have gone, I wish you well, and I enclose herein a postoffice order for .00, which is my wedding gift to yourself and Tom. Please excuse my short letter; you know I am not fond of writing. Please send me a letter at any time that you feel like writing. I am,

"Your most affectionate papa,

"LEMUEL JACKSON."

As far as my father was concerned, then, it seemed that we were safe. From him, at least, we had nothing to fear.

The present was a great time among all classes of the abolition party, the "Underground Railroad," and all that sort of thing. There were the border ruffians in Kansas, where John Brown, that hero of fame, led on the fray, and fugitive slaves escaped over the lines into the free States, whence their owners were unable to get them back. The Fugitive Slave Law was a dead letter, for the great gospel guns over all the North had denounced it as a shame and a disgrace to a Christian nation; and when the South found that fugitive slaves would resist their pursuers unto death, and that their messengers were likely to be shot down, they ceased to send them, at the same time making the slave laws worse than ever before. However, the tighter and more oppressive they made them, in greater numbers did the slaves escape from the house of bondage, for who can stem the spirit of the brave? Slavery is an abomination before the Lord!

We had at this time all the anti-slavery leaders coming round the country--the greatest speakers I ever heard. I never had a more wonderful experience than turning out with Tom at night to the halls and churches to listen to such arguments and eloquence as I had never dreamed had any existence in this or any other country. William Lloyd Garrison came to Buffalo, and Fred. Douglass, and all the rest were there. We listened to men and women who had seen slavery in all parts of the South, people who had been in Kansas, and almost everywhere else, and such tales of truth and horror I never heard before in all my life.

It is true that even slavery had its backers in the North, and too many of them at that, but the entire Christian portion of the population was determined that slavery should come no further, although the South seemed to demand, with the most unblushing impudence, that they should carry their slaves into every State and territory under the stars and stripes. The South acted like a violent, high-strung woman, whose husband tries to reason with her in vain. She seemed to say, "I shall have my own way, or I will fight with you, Sam! I'll be no submissive wife! I'll be master and mistress, too! I'll fight and have my own way!"

At this time, freemen from Europe were pouring into the United States in legions. They had no slavery in those countries from which they came, and coming here while the tidal wave of anti-slavery sentiment was at its height, they were ready not only to attempt to stem the encroachments of slavery, but to resist them by force, if the worst came to the worst. The Quakers were also in the field, and they gave Congress no rest. The Southern senators and representatives resisted them at Washington, and demanded that the whole subject be laid upon the shelf. Here they were opposed by such men as Charles Sumner, Thaddeus Stevens, and a host of others. Thus things went on from bad to worse in the halls of Congress, and all over the free North. The heavens grew darker and darker as the months rolled by, and the South prepared to leave the Union unless she had her own way.

There was very little sign, indeed, of her ever getting it, for how could freedom and slavery ever be dominant in the United States at one and the same time? It is very true that slavery was a legacy left the thirteen original States by England, but we had gone ahead and spread the iniquity ourselves, after the disposal of it was left entirely in our hands; whereas England had long since abolished both slavery and the slave trade throughout her dominions. She had even paid the owners full indemnity for the loss of their slaves.

I dwell the more fully on these things because they led up to the war of secession, and actually brought it on in the year 1861.

How did the South treat the oppressed African? She bought, she sold, she stole, she killed for gold. She hurled all revealed religion to the winds, and set the Almighty at open defiance. Thus millions of backs had to bend and labor over the cotton plant, the sugar cane and the rice stalks of the South. Families were torn asunder, and every human feeling violently dealt with in men and women born in the image of God, that silver and gold might be extracted through their blood and tears from the cotton fields, from the sugar plantations, and from the rice swamps of the Sunny South. With such crimes as these and a thousand nameless ones besides that high heaven had to avenge, was it any wonder that the coming tempest was heralded by rising winds, by darkening skies, by colder weather, and violent flurries of snow, hail and sleet?

It was one of the curses of slavery that the slave-holder often had a colored wife in the kitchen, and a white one in the parlor. This was very bad, indeed. It was just Hagar and Sarah over again, and not only did the iniquitous system bring the two women into conflict, but the poor, guileless children were brought into conflict also. It was a shame and a disgrace all the way through. If white American parents had never taught their innocent babes that the color of the skin made a difference, "American prejudice" would never have been known in the world.

My own beloved and charming mother was the first in the field. If my father had done the right thing by her, he would have married her out and out, and made her his wife de jure, as she certainly was de facto. Thus it always was in those days of slavery.

The grand, chivalric white planter had a splendid octaroon or quadroon for his "house keeper," a woman whom he loved supremely till Southern pride took alarm, and he took unto himself a white wife--to be like his neighbor! Alas! Alas! Such a crooked, dual system as that never worked, and it never will! Sarah and Hagar could not get along; neither could Rachel and Leah, and so on to the end of the chapter. Turkish women in the same harem fight among themselves like dogs and cats, and the poor miserable Turk sometimes has to provide a separate establishment for every wife.

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