Blake or The Huts of America

by Martin R. Delany

  CHAPTER 33

  Happy Greeting

  After their fortunate escape from the stables of Isaac Slusher in Indiana, Henry and comrades safely landed across the river in Windsor, Essex County, Canada West, being accompanied by a mulatto gentleman resident of Detroit, who from the abundance of his generous heart, with others there, ever stands ready and has proven himself an uncompromising, true and tried friend of his race, and every weary traveler on a fugitive slave pilgrimage, passing that way.[21]

  “Is dis Canada? Is dis de good ole British soil we hear so much ’bout way down in Missierppi?” exclaimed Andy. “Is dis free groun’? De lan’ whar black folks is free! Thang God a’mighty for dis privilege!” When he fell upon his hands and knees and kissed the earth.

  Poor fellow! he little knew the unnatural feelings and course pursued toward his race by many Canadians, those too pretending to be Englishmen by birth, with some of whom the blacks had fought side by side in the memorable crusade made upon that fairest portion of Her Majesty’s Colonial Possessions, by Americans in disguise, calling themselves “Patriots.” He little knew that while according to fundamental British Law and constitutional rights, all persons are equal in the realm, yet by a systematic course of policy and artifice, his race with few exceptions in some parts, excepting the Eastern Province, is excluded from the enjoyment and practical exercise of every right, except mere suffrage-voting–even to those of sitting on a jury as its own peer, and the exercise of military duty. He little knew the facts, and as little expected to find such a state of things in the long-talked of and much-loved Canada by the slaves. He knew not that some of high intelligence and educational attainments of his race residing in many parts of the Provinces, were really excluded from and practically denied their rights, and that there was no authority known to the colony to give redress and make restitution on the petition or application of these representative men of his race, which had frequently been done with the reply from the Canadian functionaries that they had no power to reach their case. It had never entered the mind of poor Andy, that in going to Canada in search of freedom, he was then in a country where privileges were denied him which are common to the slave in every Southern state–the right of going into the gallery of a public building–that a few of the most respectable colored ladies of a town in Kent County, desirous through reverence and respect, to see a British Lord Chief Justice on the Bench of Queen’s Court, taking seats in the gallery of the court house assigned to females and other visitors, were ruthlessly taken hold of and shown down the stairway by a man and “officer” of the Court of Queen’s Bench for that place. Sad would be to him the fact when he heard that the construction given by authority to these grievances, when requested to remedy or remove them, was, that they were “local contingencies to be reached alone by those who inflicted the injuries.” An emotion of unutterable indignation would swell the heart of the determined slave, and almost compel him to curse the country of his adoption. But Andy was free–being on British soil–from the bribes of slaveholding influences; where the unhallowed foot of the slavecatcher dare not tread; where no decrees of an American Congress sanctioned by a president born and bred in a free state and himself once a poor apprentice boy in a village, could reach.

  Thus far, Andy was happy; happy in the success of their escape, the enlarged hopes of future prospects in the industrial pursuits of life; and happy in the contemplation of meeting and seeing Clara.

  There were other joys than those of Andy, and other hopes and anticipations to be realised. Charles, Ambrose, and Eli, who, though with hearts overflowing with gratitude, were silent in holy praise to heaven, claiming to have emotions equal to his, and conjugal expectations quite as sacred if not yet as binding.

  “The first thing now to be done is to find our people!” said Henry with emotion, after the excess of Andy had ceased.

  “Where are they?” inquired the mulatto gentleman. “And what are their names?”

  “Their names at home were Frank’s Ailcey, Craig’s Polly, and Little Joe, who left several months ago; and an old man and woman called Daddy Joe and Mammy Judy; a young woman called Clara Beckwith, and a little boy named Tony, who came on but a few days before us.”

  “Come with me, and I’ll lead you directly to him!” replied the mulatto gentlemen; when taking a vehicle, he drove them to the country a few miles from Windsor, where the parties under feelings such as never had been experienced by them before, fell into the embrace of each other.

  “Dar now, dar! wat I tell you? Bless de laud, ef dar ain’ Chaules an’ Henry!” exclaimed Mammy Judy, clapping her hands, giving vent to tears which stole in drops from the eyes of all. “My po’ chile! My po’ Margot!” continued she in piteous tones as the bold and manly leader pressed closely to his bosom his boy, who now was the image of his mother. “My son, did’n yeh hear nothing bout er? did’n yeh not bring my po’ Margot?”

  “No, mammy, no! I have not seen and did not bring her! No, mammy, no! But–!” When Henry became choked with grief which found an audible response from the heart of every child of sorrow present.

  Clara commenced, seconded by Andy and followed by all except him the pierce to whose manly heart had caused it, in tones the most affecting:

  O, when shall my sorrow subside!

  And when shall my troubles be ended;

  And when to the bosom of Christ be conveyed,

  To the mansions of joy and bliss!

  To the mansions of joy and bliss!

  Falling upon their knees, Andy uttered a most fervent prayer, invoking Heaven’s blessing and aid.

  “Amen!” responded Charles.

  “Hallelujah!” cried Clara, clapping her hands.

  “Glory, glory, glory!” shouted Ailcey.

  “O laud! W’en shall I get home!” mourned Mammy Judy.

  “Tis good to be here, chilen! Tis good to be here!” said Daddy Joe, rubbing his hands quite wet with tears–when all rising to their feet met each other in the mutual embraces of Christian affection, with heaving hearts of sadness.

  “We have reason, sir,” said Henry addressing himself to the mulatto gentleman who stood a tearful eye witness to the scenes, “we have reason to thank God from the recesses of our hearts for the providential escape we’ve made from slavery!” which expression was answered only by trickles down the gentleman’s cheeks.

  The first care of Henry was to invest a portion of the old people’s money by the purchase of fifty acres of land with improvements suitable, and provide for the schooling of the children until he should otherwise order. Charles by appointment in which Henry took part, was chosen leader of the runaway party, Andy being the second, Ambrose and Eli respectively the keepers of their money and accounts, Eli being a good penman.

  “Now,” said Henry, after two days rest, “the time has come and I must leave you! Polly, as you came as the mistress, you must now become the mother and nurse of my poor boy! Take good care of him-mammy will attend to you. Charles, as you have all secured land close to, I want you to stand by the old people; Andy, you, Ambrose, and Eli, stand by Charles and the girls, and you must succeed, as nothing can separate you; your strength depending upon your remaining together.”

  “Henry, is yeh guine sho’ nuff?” earnestly enquired Andy.

  “Yes, I must go!”

  “Wait little!” replied Andy, when after speaking aside with Eli and Ambrose, calling the girls they all whispered for sometime together; occasional evidence of seriousness, anxiety, and joy marking their expressions of countenance.

  The Provincial regulations requiring a license, or three weeks report to a public congregation, and that many sabbaths from the altar of a place of worship to legalise a marriage, and there being now no time for either of these, the mulatto gentleman who was still with them, being a clergyman, declared, that in this case no such restrictions were binding; being originally intended for the whites and the free, and not for the panting runaway slave.

  “Thank God for t
hat! That’s good talk!” said Charles.

  “Ef it aint dat, ’taint nothin! Dat’s wat I calls good black talk!” replied Andy, causing the clergyman and all to look at each other with a smile.

  The party gathered standing in a semicircle, the clergyman in the center, a hymn being sung and prayer offered–rising to their feet, and an exhortation of comfort and encouragement being given, with the fatherly advice and instructions of their domestic guidance in after life by the aged man of God; the sacred and impressively novel words: “I join you together in the bonds of matrimony!” gave Henry the pleasure before leaving of seeing upon the floor together, Charles and Polly, Andy and Clara, Eli and Ailcey, “as man and wife forever.”

  “Praise God!” exclaimed poor old mammy, whose heart was most tenderly touched by the scene before her, contrasting it by reflection with the sad reminiscence of her own sorrowful and hopeless union with Daddy Joe, with whom she had lived fifty years as happily as was possible for slaves to do.[22]

  “Bless de laud!” responded the old man.

  The young wives all gave vent to sobs of sympathy and joy, when the parson as a solace sung in touching sentiments:

  Daughters of Zion! awake from thy sadness!

  Awake for they foes shall oppress thee no more.

  Bright o’er the hills shines the day star of gladness

  Arise! for the night of they sorrow is o’er;

  Daughters of Zion, awake from thy sadness!

  Awake for they foes shall oppress thee no more!

  “O glory!” exclaimed Mammy Judy, when the scene becoming most affecting; hugging his boy closely to his bosom, upon whose little cheek and lips he impressed kisses long and affectionate, when laying him in the old woman’s cap and kissing little Tony, turning to his friends with a voice the tone of which sent through them a thrill, he said:

  “By the instincts of a husband, I’ll have her if living! If dead, by impulses of a Heaven-inspired soul, I’ll avenge her loss unto death! Farwell, farwell!” the tears streaming as he turned from his child and its grandparents; when but a few minutes found the runaway leader seated in a car at the Windsor depot, from whence he reached the Suspension Bridge at Niagara en route for the Atlantic.

  CHAPTER 34

  A Novel Adventure

  From the Suspension Bridge through the great New York Central Railway to Albany, and thence by the Hudson River, Henry reached the city on the steamer “Hendrick Hudson,” in the middle of an afternoon. First securing a boarding house–a new thing to him–he proceeded by direction to an intelligence office, which he found kept by a mulatto gentleman.[23] Here inquiring for a situation as page or valet on a voyage to Cuba, he deposited the required sum, leaving his address as “Gilbert Hopewell, 168 Church St.”–changing the name to prevent all traces of himself out of Canada, whither he was known to have gone, to the free states of America, and especially to Cuba whence he was going, the theater of his future actions.

  In the evening Henry took a stroll through the great thoroughfare, everything being to him so very novel, that eleven o’clock brought him directly in front of doubtless the handsomest saloon of the kind in the world, situated on the corner of Broadway and Franklin street. Gazing in at the luxurious and fashionable throng and gaieties displayed among the many in groups at the tables, there was one which more than all others attracted his attention, though unconscious at the time of its doing so.

  The party consisted of four; a handsome and attractive young lady, accompanied by three gentlemen, all fine looking, attractive persons, wearing the undress uniforms of United States naval officers. The elder of these was a robust, commanding person in appearance, black hair, well mixed with white, seemingly some sixty years of age. One of the young gentlemen was tall, handsome, with raven-black hair, moustache, and eyes; the other, medium height, fair complexion, hair, moustache and whiskers, with blue eyes; while the young lady ranked of medium proportions in height and size, drab hair, fair complexion, plump cheeks and hazel eyes, and neatly dressed in a maroon silk habit, broadly faced in front and cuffed with orange satin, the collar being the same, neatly bound with crimson.

  While thus musing over the throng continually passing in and out, unconsciously Henry had his attention so fixed on this group, who were passing out and up Broadway, involuntarily leaving the window through which he had been gazing, he found himself following them in the crowd which throng the street closely, foot to foot.

  Detecting himself and about to turn aside, he overheard the elderly gentleman in reply to a question by the lady concerning the great metropolis, say, that in Cuba where in a few days they would be, recreation and pleasure were quite equal to that of New York. Now drawing more closely he learned that the company were destined for Havana, to sail in a few days. His heart beat with joy, when turning and making his way back, he found his boarding house without difficulty.

  Henry once more spent a sleepless night, noted by restless anxiety; and the approach of morning seemed to be regulated by the extent of the city. If thoughts could have done it, the great Metropolis would have been reduced to a single block of houses, reducing in like manner the night to a few fleeting moments.

  Early in the morning he had risen, and impatiently pacing the floor, imagined that the people of that city were behind the age in rising. Presently the summons came for breakfast, and ere he was seated a note was handed him reading thus:

  Intelligence Office–Leonard St.,

  New York, March 5th, 1853

  Gilbert Hopewell: There is now an opportunity offered to go to Cuba, to attend on a party of four–a lady and three gentlemen–who sail for Havana direct (see Tribune of this morning). Be at my office at half past ten o’clock, and you will learn particulars, which, by that time I will have obtained.

  Respectfully,

  B. A. P.

  Though the delay was but an hour, Henry was restless, and when the time came was punctually in his place. The gentleman who called to meet him at the Intelligence office Henry recognized as one of the party seen the previous evening at the great saloon in Broadway. Arrangements having been completed concerning his attendance and going with them, “Meet me in an hour at the St. Nicholas, and commence your duties immediately,” said the gentleman, when politely bowing, Henry turned away with a heart of joy, and full of hope.

  Promptly to the time he was at the hotel, arranging for a start; when he found that his duties consisted in attendance particularly on the young lady and one of the young gentlemen, and the other two as occasion might require. The company was composed of Captain Richard Paul, the elderly gentleman; Lieutenant Augustus Seeley, the black-haired; passed Midshipman Lawrence Spencer, the light-haired gentleman, and Miss Cornelia Woodward.

  Miss Woodward was modest and retiring, though affable, conversant and easy in manner. In her countenance were pictured an expression of definite anxiety and decisive purpose, which commanded for her the regard and esteem of all whom she approached. Proud without vanity, and graceful without affectation, she gained the esteem of everyone; a lady making the remark that she was one of the most perfect of American young ladies.

  After breakfast the next morning they embarked on the steam packet “Isabella,” to sail that day at eleven o’clock.

  Of the gentlemen, Augustus Seeley gave to Miss Woodward the most attention, though nothing in her manner betrayed attachment except an occasional sigh.

  Henry, for the time, appeared to be her main dependence; as shortly after sailing she manifested a disposition to keep in retirement as much as possible. Though a girl of tender affections, delicate sentiments, and elevated Christian graces, Cornelia was evidently inexperienced and unprepared for the deceptious impositions practiced in society. Hence, with the highest hopes and expectations, innocently unaware of the contingencies in life’s dangerous pathway, hazarding her destiny on the simple promise of an irresponsible young man, but little more than passed midshipman, she reached the quay at Moro Castle in less than six days from the Port o
f New York.

  PART II

  Hear the word!–who fight for freedom!

  Shout it in the battle van!

  Hope! for bleeding human nature!

  Christ the God, is Christ the Man!

  H. Beecher Stowe

  CHAPTER 35

  Cornelia Woodward

  “What next?” inquired Seeley of Captain Paul, immediately after refreshing at the “American Hotel,” whither they had gone from the vessel.

  “I shall take you out directly to see Captain Garcia, one of the finest fellows in the world.”

  “Is this Emanuel Garcia, the expert fellow so long engaged in the trade, and so hard to catch?”

  “The same. He married a sister of Peter Albertis, of New Orleans, formerly a planter on the Louisiana coast.”

  “Ah hah! All right, then!” replied Seeley.

  These expressions Cornelia heard, but without the remotest idea of their real import, regarding them merely as commonplace conversation.

  A black driver being summoned with a diligence to the door, in less than five hours the party were enjoying the balmy odors amidst the beautiful shrubbery at the hacienda of Captain Emanuel and Madame Adelaide Garcia.

  The greetings between Paul and Garcia were very familiar, having the appearance of old acquaintance and a mature understanding.

  In the family on a visit, was a French lady, Madame Celia Bonselle, who for a time had resided in Louisiana, a relative of the Albertises’.

  The conduct of Madame Garcia was painful to Cornelia, causing her much embarrassment, there being much close conversation between the gentlemen, in which Adelaide took an active part, for which she received the disapprobation of Madame Bonselle.

  “Tomorrow,” said Paul, after one of these private conferences, “we repair to Matanzas to examine the craft preparatory to sailing.”

  “When do you sail, Captain Paul?” earnestly enquired Cornelia.