A runaway slave, Josiah Henson, who passed through this area on his way to freedom in Canada before the Civil War, wrote an account of his flight that became the inspiration for the book "Uncle Tom's Cabin."
Henson wrote, through a ghostwriter, a book called "The Life of Josiah Henson, Formerly a Slave, Now an Inhabitant of Canada, as Related by Himself." It was published in Boston in 1849.
After arriving at Fort Erie in 1846, Henson established himself as a hard-working farmhand and a preacher, as well as a "conductor" on the Underground Railroad in leading other slaves to freedom in Canada.
In one of his travels to New England, he met Harriet Beecher Stowe, who had read his narrative and said it was the inspiration for her book. Henson, after the Stowe book came out, was often referred to as "Uncle Tom."
He was born June 15, 1789, in Charles County, Md., on a plantation owned by a master he refers to only as Mr. Francis N. Henson said his earliest recollection of the injustice of slavery came when he was about 4 years old and saw his father with his head and back bloodied.
His father had hit a white man and, as punishment, his right ear had been cut off close to his head. He had received a hundred lashes on his back. His father was then sold off and, after a few years, the slave owner died. The rest of the family was then sold to a man Henson refers to as R. Henson describes the sale as another indication of the cruelty of slavery.
"My mother, half distracted with the parting forever from all her children, pushed through the crowd, while the bidding for me was going on, to the spot where R. was standing.
"She fell at his feet, and clung to his knees, entreating him in tones that a mother only could command, to buy her baby as well as herself, and spare to her one of her little ones at least. Will it, can it be believed that this man, thus appealed to, was capable not merely of turning a deaf ear to her supplication, but of disengaging himself from her with such violent blows and kicks, as to reduce her to the necessity of creeping out of his reach, and mingling the groan of bodily suffering with the sob of a breaking heart?"
Henson worked diligently for many years, eventually becoming an overseer. In this capacity, he said, he was able to steal food and provide other slaves with sustenance the owner did not provide.
One of his duties was to see that his master got home safely after weekend drinking bouts. One time, he wrote, his master got in a fight and Henson had to shove the other white man to get his master out of the tavern.
A few days later, the white man with three slaves confronted Henson on a lonely road and attacked him. The white man hit him with a wooden pole, breaking his right arm and both shoulder blades and bloodying his head. He recuperated without a doctor's care.
Some years later, his master was in danger of losing his plantation and asked Henson to lead 18 slaves to his brother's plantation in Kentucky so creditors could not claim them. At Cincinnati, en route to Kentucky, Henson said, freed slaves there urged him to remain, but he felt it an obligation to keep his promise to deliver the slaves.
He wrote, "I have often had painful doubts as to the propriety of my carrying so many other individuals into slavery again, and my consoling reflection has been, that I acted as I thought at the time was best."
Henson later was able to gain funds by preaching at various places and was able to negotiate his sale from his master. However, his master double-crossed him and demanded much more money than agreed to.
Henson then decided to take his family to Canada, and made the arduous journey north to Ohio, where a lake captain offered to take him on his boat to Buffalo. When Henson and his family crossed to Fort Erie, he wrote:
"When I got on the Canada side, on the morning of the 28th of October, 1830, my first impulse was to throw myself on the ground, and giving way to the riotous exultation of my feelings, to execute sundry antics which excited the astonishment of those who were looking on.
"A gentleman of the neighborhood, Colonel Warren, who happened to be present, thought I was in a fit, and as he inquired what was the matter with the poor fellow, I jumped up and told him I was free. 'O,' said he, with a hearty laugh, 'is that it? I never knew freedom made a man roll in the sand before.'
"It is not much to be wondered at, that my certainty of being free was not quite a sober one at the first moment; and I hugged and kissed my wife and children all round, with a vivacity which made them laugh as well as myself."
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | November 25 2003 |