Historical Romance of the American Negro

by Charles Henry Fowler

"Why, Beulah," said he, "what is the matter with you to-day? You have been crying, and you seem as though you have lost your reason altogether."

"Well, Tom, I have had such a heavy day on account of my mother. It is one of those 'spells' come back again, the same as I used to have at Riverside Hall. I declare I hate to feel in this uncomfortable way, but it just came on me, and I could not help it."

"I am afraid, Beulah," replied Tom, "there are bad times in store for us both if you are going to be subject to those spells of crying and sorrow as came over you now and then before we left Riverside. I wonder if anything can be done to put an end to this state of affairs once for all? I would give a good deal to put an end to such a very mournful state of affairs. Can you suggest no remedy, my own dear Beulah?"

"I am not aware, Tom," said I, "that there can be any remedy in the world, unless it be to bring my mother and me together again. I think one of the greatest horrors of slavery is to tear a family in pieces. I firmly believe that Almighty God is driving the South into a terrible war that she may receive her well-merited punishment for her blood-red crimes like these. Even one of her preachers once preached a sermon in defence of slavery, and he took for his text these words of Holy Writ, 'These are the Lord's doings, and they are wondrous in our eyes!' Indeed, Tom, they are truly wondrous!"

On the morning after this conversation, I went to work at an early hour and packed my trunk. It was now the fall of the year, and glorious weather for me to travel. All nature's face was gay, and I myself was blessed with health and strength and vigorous life. At all events, I felt a hundred times better than I had twenty-four hours before! The sun of righteousness had risen upon me with healing in his wings. "Arise, shine forth, for thy light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon thee."

Once more I found myself at one of the railway stations, and took my departure for Cincinnati, by way of Cleveland and Columbus, Ohio. It was most delightful traveling to speed over the rails along the shore of Lake Erie, to see once more the lovely foliage of the forests of the beautiful state of Ohio, and then at last to skim away, and away down the smooth and level banks of the Little Miami river, where I could hardly hear or feel the train in motion at all. At last the "beautiful river," as the French called the Ohio, hove in sight once more, with the delightful hills of Kentucky and Ohio, on opposite sides, running up from the water's edge, all clad with forest trees.

I next came to Cincinnati, and the "Public Landing" was crowded with passengers and traffic going up and down the river, and as neither Tom nor myself were millionaires, and I was desirous of cheapening things as much as I could, I went aboard one of these floating palaces of the Mississippi, and engaged myself as a waitress for the voyage down the Mississippi. The "Natchez" was to leave at 4 P. M. the same day, so I got my trunk on board, and reported myself for duty.

I gave a shout for joy as we left the Public Landing and floated out on the mighty and splendid Ohio. Owing to the recent heavy rains all along the head branches of this beautiful river, the stream was swollen from bank to bank, and presented a grand appearance as we plunged into the high-rolling waves and surges in the centre of the river. The glorious sun danced upon the silvery tide, and covered all the forests, the hills and dales on each side of the great and rushing flood. Huge barges were floating down from Pittsburg, and the far North, and large and small craft of every description were dancing and whirling away, whistling and screaming and advancing towards us, or retreating around the bends.

So far as my duties on the boat permitted, my eyes were never off the river, the hills, woods and forests, and the wild, fast-flowing traffic that was going up and down, and which seemed to have no end. The red and fiery sun went down in the wild waters of the beautiful river that looked like heaving, molten gold; then up came the silver moon, and turned all things visible into silver sheen.

The great Creator, indeed, was on the waves, and the Natchez drove on at a rapid rate. We had now the Indiana shore on our right hand, having passed the Ohio state line at Lawrenceburg, Indiana. In the early morning we came to Louisville, Ky., where we remained for a few hours. Here we passed through the Portland canal, and soon went by Riverside Hall, and the little cabin on the opposite side of the river. It stands two or three miles below New Albany, and I could see some of our dear friends standing before the door. It was here that Tom and I had crossed the Ohio.