Historical Romance of the American Negro

by Charles Henry Fowler

The "beautiful river" still continued to increase and to swell, and we plunged along at a glorious rate. All on board seemed to be in a laughing mood, for the weather was superb, and that floating palace, "The Natchez," swept along at a furious speed. You can talk as much as you please about a light heart, but during this most delightful voyage mine did seem "as light as any feather." I had such joyful dreams every night, and hailed each coming morning with delight. Indeed I dressed myself every morning while my mouth was full of laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" "I think you must be in love." "You always appear in such tip-top humor." Such remarks were addressed to me by my companions in the waiting department, as we made our toilets before the looking-glass. To which I would reply, "I am laughing for the self-same reason that the bird sings in the forest, because the sun shines. As the children say, I am laughing at nothing!"

By this time the beautiful hills on both sides of the Ohio had fallen away. We had the state of Illinois in front of us at last, when we passed the mouth of the Wabash; and lower down on our left, the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers poured all their flood into the Ohio, after they had drained the mountain lands of Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee and Kentucky. "The beautiful river" was beautiful no more, but on both sides the lands were flat and fertile.

Ho for the Mississippi! What a rush there was among our passengers to behold the great "Father of Waters" absorbing our smaller Ohio at Cairo, in the state of Illinois. The city of Cairo lies right in the fork of these two rivers—the Mississippi and the Ohio. "Whew! What a river! Why, to be sure, this is, indeed, something like a river! It is more like a flowing sea of fresh waters than a river," were the remarks of a gentleman on board, and the sight was one that I am sure I never shall or can forget, either.

Our arrival upon the Mississippi seemed to add to my good humor, and then I was drawing nearer and nearer to my devoted and beloved mother every hour, and I seemed to have a firm presentiment from high heaven that my adventurous mission would turn out a success.

On, on, on, we rushed night and day, passing the mouths of the St. Francis, the White, the Arkansas and Red rivers on our right hand, and the Yazoo and other smaller ones on our left. It grew much warmer as we advanced farther south. We were now coming into the lands famed for the cultivation of the sugar cane, the cotton plant, and the rice. The only thing that dampened my spirits was to behold from the deck of the swift-flying Natchez, hundreds and thousands of oppressed colored people toiling and sweating in the sun, whilst their overbearing overseers stood over them, whip in hand, to make them work on, or receive the lash on their backs. How even Southern people could look upon such barbarity as that, and call themselves Christians, I could not understand. But as sure as there is a God in heaven, there is a terrible "judgment day" in store for all this, and I firmly believe that we shall all see it very soon.

What was to hinder Mrs. Jackson from selling me down South here, and forcing me to work till I died, in these very fields that I can see from the deck of the Natchez? Wherein am I better than these full-blooded Africans before my eyes, who were murderously torn away from their beautiful homes in Africa, brought over in "floating hells," and sold like cattle in the markets of the South? Shall not these who criminally carry on the slave-trade, and slavery, soon atone for all this? As surely as God lives, the "judgment day," even in this world, cannot be far off! The Southern people, like the doomed inhabitants of wicked Jerusalem, know not the approaching day of their visitation.

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.