Historical Romance of the American Negro

by Charles Henry Fowler

SCENES IN BUFFALO.

At last we saw Tom coming up the street, when such a scene ensued as it would take the very angels of heaven to tell. We sat up to a late hour that night, and seemed quite unwilling to break up and retire for the night. The pastor of the church, his good lady, and all the friends came flocking round to see us, and the rejoicing over our mother's safe arrival from the land of slavery was both loud and deep. When we next went to church, the interest there was most unbounded, and the enthusiasm ran higher than the waves of the sea. We made no secret of anything. Abolition was now under full swing; the "Border Ruffians" were now in Kansas, and the temper of the whole North was up, that slavery should come no further. Therefore our white and colored friends came on in droves to church to see mother, and welcome her to Buffalo, and prayer, praise and hymns of rejoicing were kept up till a late hour. Praise ye the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever!

It is sometimes a very difficult thing for a young person like myself at this time to know what to do for the best, lest I should be doing wrong. It has often been said that a woman cannot keep a secret, and I am bound to confess that I had hard work to hold myself back at this time from writing to my father and telling him the good news of mother's escape from slavery. In the secret of his heart I knew well that he would rejoice to hear it; but Mrs. Jackson might get hold of the letter, and that was where the trouble came in. In fact, so far as unruffling her feelings was concerned, I did not care whether she saw my letter or not! I certainly intended to pen no falsehoods, and saw no good reason why any one should object to the simple truth. Thus openly to publish our whereabouts might have endangered mother, Tom and myself, because the Fugitive Slave Bill was on the National Statute books. It is true that some of the Southerners had been up to the far North after their fugitives, and tried hard to carry them back to slavery; but though the public officers were vigorously called on to do their duty, according to the letter of the law, the general public arose against such arrests, and the slave hunters had to go home again to the South without their prey, avowing and swearing that this would never be a country anyhow till slavery extended from the Lakes to the Gulf. There was, therefore, no real cause for fear on account of either mother, Tom or myself. I had promised my father to write again, and besides he had sent me a present of fifty dollars, which I was bound to acknowledge, and then my description of our first visit to Niagara had been broken off in the middle. There was another thing that would deter Mrs. Jackson from sending any expedition after us, and that was the fact that we were right on the Canadian border, there being nothing between us and the British dominions but the Niagara river. Indeed this was the true reason why my own dear Tom and I never came to a halt till we reached the beautiful city of Buffalo. Upon the least hint of man-hunters being on our trail, we had nothing to do but steer across the river, where we could have a glorious holiday among our friends, and come back again to Buffalo as soon as ever our pursuers had returned home.

One thing was certain—if I were going to write at all, I must write soon, or let it slide altogether. Of course, I could never make up my mind to follow the latter alternative, so I took my pen in hand and sat down and penned the following epistle:

"BUFFALO, N. Y., October, 1855.

"To Lemuel Jackson, Esquire,

"My Dear Father:—I am sure it shows very bad manners in me to be so very slow in answering your thrice-welcomed letter. I am under a thousand obligations to you for your present to my own dear Tom and me on the occasion of our happy wedding. We consider that you have indeed been most mindful of us, and we return you our warmest thanks. We are both well, and Tom has a good situation on Delaware avenue, the principal residence street in Buffalo.

"The last time I wrote you, I was giving you a description of our first visit to Niagara Falls, and was interrupted in the middle of it by Tom's coming home to tea, in company with our pastor and his wife. I am now desirous of finishing the narrative, but before I do so, I will tell you something that will indeed surprise you.

"You will remember the fits of sadness and depression I was subject to every now and then after dear mother was sent down the river to New Orleans. My happy marriage had suspended these attacks altogether for a time; but one day in the beginning of the fall, they returned in great force. That was the first attack, and after Tom and I had discussed the matter over, it was at last fully decided that I must not have a second. If you wish to hear all the particulars of what followed, I am quite willing to give you them; but in the meantime—after your own style of writing—I will be brief. I proceeded to New Orleans, rescued mother from slavery, and brought her safe and sound home to Buffalo on the steamer "Columbia," by way of Havana and New York City. This successful and happy event has caused the liveliest satisfaction to dear mother, to Tom and myself, and to the entire population of Buffalo, so far as they have become acquainted with it. Tom is quite pleased to have such a delightful mother-in-law in the house, and all three work most harmoniously together.