initial commit of ebook 202HEADmain

1 files changed, 12704 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/202-0.txt b/202-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fbbd68b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/202-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,12704 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Bondage and My Freedom, by Frederick Douglass
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: My Bondage and My Freedom
+
+Author: Frederick Douglass
+
+Release Date: January, 1995 [eBook #202]
+[Most recently updated: June 12, 2022]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Mike Lough and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY BONDAGE AND MY FREEDOM ***
+
+
+
+
+MY BONDAGE and MY FREEDOM
+
+By Frederick Douglass
+
+
+By a principle essential to Christianity, a PERSON is eternally
+differenced from a THING; so that the idea of a HUMAN BEING,
+necessarily excludes the idea of PROPERTY IN THAT BEING. —COLERIDGE
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress in 1855 by Frederick Douglass in
+the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Northern District of
+New York
+
+TO
+HONORABLE GERRIT SMITH,
+AS A SLIGHT TOKEN OF
+ESTEEM FOR HIS CHARACTER,
+ADMIRATION FOR HIS GENIUS AND BENEVOLENCE,
+AFFECTION FOR HIS PERSON, AND
+GRATITUDE FOR HIS FRIENDSHIP,
+AND AS
+A Small but most Sincere Acknowledgement of
+HIS PRE-EMINENT SERVICES IN BEHALF OF THE RIGHTS AND LIBERTIES
+OF AN
+AFFLICTED, DESPISED AND DEEPLY OUTRAGED PEOPLE,
+BY RANKING SLAVERY WITH PIRACY AND MURDER,
+AND BY
+DENYING IT EITHER A LEGAL OR CONSTITUTIONAL EXISTENCE,
+This Volume is Respectfully Dedicated,
+BY HIS FAITHFUL AND FIRMLY ATTACHED FRIEND,
+
+FREDERICK DOUGLAS.
+ROCHESTER, N.Y.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ MY BONDAGE and MY FREEDOM
+ EDITOR’S PREFACE
+ INTRODUCTION
+
+ CHAPTER I. _Childhood_
+ CHAPTER II. _Removed from My First Home_
+ CHAPTER III. _Parentage_
+ CHAPTER IV. _A General Survey of the Slave Plantation_
+ CHAPTER V. _Gradual Initiation to the Mysteries of Slavery_
+ CHAPTER VI. _Treatment of Slaves on Lloyd’s Plantation_
+ CHAPTER VII. _Life in the Great House_
+ CHAPTER VIII. _A Chapter of Horrors_
+ CHAPTER IX. _Personal Treatment_
+ CHAPTER X. _Life in Baltimore_
+ CHAPTER XI. _“A Change Came O’er the Spirit of My Dream”_
+ CHAPTER XII. _Religious Nature Awakened_
+ CHAPTER XIII. _The Vicissitudes of Slave Life_
+ CHAPTER XIV. _Experience in St. Michael’s_
+ CHAPTER XV. _Covey, the Negro Breaker_
+ CHAPTER XVI. _Another Pressure of the Tyrant’s Vice_
+ CHAPTER XVII. _The Last Flogging_
+ CHAPTER XVIII. _New Relations and Duties_
+ CHAPTER XIX. _The Run-Away Plot_
+ CHAPTER XX. _Apprenticeship Life_
+ CHAPTER XXI. _My Escape from Slavery_
+
+ LIFE as a FREEMAN
+ CHAPTER XXII. _Liberty Attained_
+ CHAPTER XXIII. _Introduced to the Abolitionists_
+ CHAPTER XXIV. _Twenty-One Months in Great Britain_
+ CHAPTER XXV. _Various Incidents_
+
+ RECEPTION SPEECH [10]. At Finsbury Chapel, Moorfields, England, May 12,
+ Dr. Campbell’s Reply
+ LETTER TO HIS OLD MASTER. [11]. To My Old Master, Thomas Auld
+ THE NATURE OF SLAVERY. Extract from a Lecture on Slavery, at Rochester,
+ INHUMANITY OF SLAVERY. Extract from A Lecture on Slavery, at Rochester,
+ WHAT TO THE SLAVE IS THE FOURTH OF JULY?. Extract from an Oration, at
+ THE INTERNAL SLAVE TRADE. Extract from an Oration, at Rochester, July
+ THE SLAVERY PARTY. Extract from a Speech Delivered before the A. A. S.
+ THE ANTI-SLAVERY MOVEMENT. Extracts from a Lecture before Various
+
+ FOOTNOTES
+
+
+
+
+MY BONDAGE and MY FREEDOM
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR’S PREFACE
+
+
+If the volume now presented to the public were a mere work of ART, the
+history of its misfortune might be written in two very simple words—TOO
+LATE. The nature and character of slavery have been subjects of an
+almost endless variety of artistic representation; and after the
+brilliant achievements in that field, and while those achievements are
+yet fresh in the memory of the million, he who would add another to the
+legion, must possess the charm of transcendent excellence, or apologize
+for something worse than rashness. The reader is, therefore, assured,
+with all due promptitude, that his attention is not invited to a work
+of ART, but to a work of FACTS—Facts, terrible and almost incredible,
+it may be yet FACTS, nevertheless.
+
+I am authorized to say that there is not a fictitious name nor place in
+the whole volume; but that names and places are literally given, and
+that every transaction therein described actually transpired.
+
+Perhaps the best Preface to this volume is furnished in the following
+letter of Mr. Douglass, written in answer to my urgent solicitation for
+such a work:
+
+ROCHESTER, N. Y. _July_ 2, 1855.
+
+
+DEAR FRIEND: I have long entertained, as you very well know, a somewhat
+positive repugnance to writing or speaking anything for the public,
+which could, with any degree of plausibilty, make me liable to the
+imputation of seeking personal notoriety, for its own sake.
+Entertaining that feeling very sincerely, and permitting its control,
+perhaps, quite unreasonably, I have often refused to narrate my
+personal experience in public anti-slavery meetings, and in
+sympathizing circles, when urged to do so by friends, with whose views
+and wishes, ordinarily, it were a pleasure to comply. In my letters and
+speeches, I have generally aimed to discuss the question of Slavery in
+the light of fundamental principles, and upon facts, notorious and open
+to all; making, I trust, no more of the fact of my own former
+enslavement, than circumstances seemed absolutely to require. I have
+never placed my opposition to slavery on a basis so narrow as my own
+enslavement, but rather upon the indestructible and unchangeable laws
+of human nature, every one of which is perpetually and flagrantly
+violated by the slave system. I have also felt that it was best for
+those having histories worth the writing—or supposed to be so—to commit
+such work to hands other than their own. To write of one’s self, in
+such a manner as not to incur the imputation of weakness, vanity, and
+egotism, is a work within the ability of but few; and I have little
+reason to believe that I belong to that fortunate few.
+
+These considerations caused me to hesitate, when first you kindly urged
+me to prepare for publication a full account of my life as a slave, and
+my life as a freeman.
+
+Nevertheless, I see, with you, many reasons for regarding my
+autobiography as exceptional in its character, and as being, in some
+sense, naturally beyond the reach of those reproaches which honorable
+and sensitive minds dislike to incur. It is not to illustrate any
+heroic achievements of a man, but to vindicate a just and beneficent
+principle, in its application to the whole human family, by letting in
+the light of truth upon a system, esteemed by some as a blessing, and
+by others as a curse and a crime. I agree with you, that this system is
+now at the bar of public opinion—not only of this country, but of the
+whole civilized world—for judgment. Its friends have made for it the
+usual plea—“not guilty;” the case must, therefore, proceed. Any facts,
+either from slaves, slaveholders, or by-standers, calculated to
+enlighten the public mind, by revealing the true nature, character, and
+tendency of the slave system, are in order, and can scarcely be
+innocently withheld.
+
+I see, too, that there are special reasons why I should write my own
+biography, in preference to employing another to do it. Not only is
+slavery on trial, but unfortunately, the enslaved people are also on
+trial. It is alleged, that they are, naturally, inferior; that they are
+_so low_ in the scale of humanity, and so utterly stupid, that they are
+unconscious of their wrongs, and do not apprehend their rights.
+Looking, then, at your request, from this stand-point, and wishing
+everything of which you think me capable to go to the benefit of my
+afflicted people, I part with my doubts and hesitation, and proceed to
+furnish you the desired manuscript; hoping that you may be able to make
+such arrangements for its publication as shall be best adapted to
+accomplish that good which you so enthusiastically anticipate.
+
+FREDERICK DOUGLASS
+
+There was little necessity for doubt and hesitation on the part of Mr.
+Douglass, as to the propriety of his giving to the world a full account
+of himself. A man who was born and brought up in slavery, a living
+witness of its horrors; who often himself experienced its cruelties;
+and who, despite the depressing influences surrounding his birth, youth
+and manhood, has risen, from a dark and almost absolute obscurity, to
+the distinguished position which he now occupies, might very well
+assume the existence of a commendable curiosity, on the part of the
+public, to know the facts of his remarkable history.
+
+EDITOR
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+When a man raises himself from the lowest condition in society to the
+highest, mankind pay him the tribute of their admiration; when he
+accomplishes this elevation by native energy, guided by prudence and
+wisdom, their admiration is increased; but when his course, onward and
+upward, excellent in itself, furthermore proves a possible, what had
+hitherto been regarded as an impossible, reform, then he becomes a
+burning and a shining light, on which the aged may look with gladness,
+the young with hope, and the down-trodden, as a representative of what
+they may themselves become. To such a man, dear reader, it is my
+privilege to introduce you.
+
+The life of Frederick Douglass, recorded in the pages which follow, is
+not merely an example of self-elevation under the most adverse
+circumstances; it is, moreover, a noble vindication of the highest aims
+of the American anti-slavery movement. The real object of that movement
+is not only to disenthrall, it is, also, to bestow upon the Negro the
+exercise of all those rights, from the possession of which he has been
+so long debarred.
+
+But this full recognition of the colored man to the right, and the
+entire admission of the same to the full privileges, political,
+religious and social, of manhood, requires powerful effort on the part
+of the enthralled, as well as on the part of those who would
+disenthrall them. The people at large must feel the conviction, as well
+as admit the abstract logic, of human equality; the Negro, for the
+first time in the world’s history, brought in full contact with high
+civilization, must prove his title first to all that is demanded for
+him; in the teeth of unequal chances, he must prove himself equal to
+the mass of those who oppress him—therefore, absolutely superior to his
+apparent fate, and to their relative ability. And it is most cheering
+to the friends of freedom, today, that evidence of this equality is
+rapidly accumulating, not from the ranks of the half-freed colored
+people of the free states, but from the very depths of slavery itself;
+the indestructible equality of man to man is demonstrated by the ease
+with which black men, scarce one remove from barbarism—if slavery can
+be honored with such a distinction—vault into the high places of the
+most advanced and painfully acquired civilization. Ward and Garnett,
+Wells Brown and Pennington, Loguen and Douglass, are banners on the
+outer wall, under which abolition is fighting its most successful
+battles, because they are living exemplars of the practicability of the
+most radical abolitionism; for, they were all of them born to the doom
+of slavery, some of them remained slaves until adult age, yet they all
+have not only won equality to their white fellow citizens, in civil,
+religious, political and social rank, but they have also illustrated
+and adorned our common country by their genius, learning and eloquence.
+
+The characteristics whereby Mr. Douglass has won first rank among these
+remarkable men, and is still rising toward highest rank among living
+Americans, are abundantly laid bare in the book before us. Like the
+autobiography of Hugh Miller, it carries us so far back into early
+childhood, as to throw light upon the question, “when positive and
+persistent memory begins in the human being.” And, like Hugh Miller, he
+must have been a shy old-fashioned child, occasionally oppressed by
+what he could not well account for, peering and poking about among the
+layers of right and wrong, of tyrant and thrall, and the wonderfulness
+of that hopeless tide of things which brought power to one race, and
+unrequited toil to another, until, finally, he stumbled upon his
+“first-found Ammonite,” hidden away down in the depths of his own
+nature, and which revealed to him the fact that liberty and right, for
+all men, were anterior to slavery and wrong. When his knowledge of the
+world was bounded by the visible horizon on Col. Lloyd’s plantation,
+and while every thing around him bore a fixed, iron stamp, as if it had
+always been so, this was, for one so young, a notable discovery.
+
+To his uncommon memory, then, we must add a keen and accurate insight
+into men and things; an original breadth of common sense which enabled
+him to see, and weigh, and compare whatever passed before him, and
+which kindled a desire to search out and define their relations to
+other things not so patent, but which never succumbed to the marvelous
+nor the supernatural; a sacred thirst for liberty and for learning,
+first as a means of attaining liberty, then as an end in itself most
+desirable; a will; an unfaltering energy and determination to obtain
+what his soul pronounced desirable; a majestic self-hood; determined
+courage; a deep and agonizing sympathy with his embruted, crushed and
+bleeding fellow slaves, and an extraordinary depth of passion, together
+with that rare alliance between passion and intellect, which enables
+the former, when deeply roused, to excite, develop and sustain the
+latter.
+
+With these original gifts in view, let us look at his schooling; the
+fearful discipline through which it pleased God to prepare him for the
+high calling on which he has since entered—the advocacy of emancipation
+by the people who are not slaves. And for this special mission, his
+plantation education was better than any he could have acquired in any
+lettered school. What he needed, was facts and experiences, welded to
+acutely wrought up sympathies, and these he could not elsewhere have
+obtained, in a manner so peculiarly adapted to his nature. His physical
+being was well trained, also, running wild until advanced into boyhood;
+hard work and light diet, thereafter, and a skill in handicraft in
+youth.
+
+For his special mission, then, this was, considered in connection with
+his natural gifts, a good schooling; and, for his special mission, he
+doubtless “left school” just at the proper moment. Had he remained
+longer in slavery—had he fretted under bonds until the ripening of
+manhood and its passions, until the drear agony of slave-wife and
+slave-children had been piled upon his already bitter experiences—then,
+not only would his own history have had another termination, but the
+drama of American slavery would have been essentially varied; for I
+cannot resist the belief, that the boy who learned to read and write as
+he did, who taught his fellow slaves these precious acquirements as he
+did, who plotted for their mutual escape as he did, would, when a man
+at bay, strike a blow which would make slavery reel and stagger.
+Furthermore, blows and insults he bore, at the moment, without
+resentment; deep but suppressed emotion rendered him insensible to
+their sting; but it was afterward, when the memory of them went
+seething through his brain, breeding a fiery indignation at his injured
+self-hood, that the resolve came to resist, and the time fixed when to
+resist, and the plot laid, how to resist; and he always kept his
+self-pledged word. In what he undertook, in this line, he looked fate
+in the face, and had a cool, keen look at the relation of means to
+ends. Henry Bibb, to avoid chastisement, strewed his master’s bed with
+charmed leaves and _was whipped_. Frederick Douglass quietly pocketed a
+like _fetiche_, compared his muscles with those of Covey—and _whipped
+him_.
+
+In the history of his life in bondage, we find, well developed, that
+inherent and continuous energy of character which will ever render him
+distinguished. What his hand found to do, he did with his might; even
+while conscious that he was wronged out of his daily earnings, he
+worked, and worked hard. At his daily labor he went with a will; with
+keen, well set eye, brawny chest, lithe figure, and fair sweep of arm,
+he would have been king among calkers, had that been his mission.
+
+It must not be overlooked, in this glance at his education, that Mr.
+Douglass lacked one aid to which so many men of mark have been deeply
+indebted—he had neither a mother’s care, nor a mother’s culture, save
+that which slavery grudgingly meted out to him. Bitter nurse! may not
+even her features relax with human feeling, when she gazes at such
+offspring! How susceptible he was to the kindly influences of
+mother-culture, may be gathered from his own words, on page 57: “It has
+been a life-long standing grief to me, that I know so little of my
+mother, and that I was so early separated from her. The counsels of her
+love must have been beneficial to me. The side view of her face is
+imaged on my memory, and I take few steps in life, without feeling her
+presence; but the image is mute, and I have no striking words of hers
+treasured up.”
+
+From the depths of chattel slavery in Maryland, our author escaped into
+the caste-slavery of the north, in New Bedford, Massachusetts. Here he
+found oppression assuming another, and hardly less bitter, form; of
+that very handicraft which the greed of slavery had taught him, his
+half-freedom denied him the exercise for an honest living; he found
+himself one of a class—free colored men—whose position he has described
+in the following words:
+
+“Aliens are we in our native land. The fundamental principles of the
+republic, to which the humblest white man, whether born here or
+elsewhere, may appeal with confidence, in the hope of awakening a
+favorable response, are held to be inapplicable to us. The glorious
+doctrines of your revolutionary fathers, and the more glorious
+teachings of the Son of God, are construed and applied against us. We
+are literally scourged beyond the beneficent range of both authorities,
+human and divine. * * * * American humanity hates us, scorns us,
+disowns and denies, in a thousand ways, our very personality. The
+outspread wing of American christianity, apparently broad enough to
+give shelter to a perishing world, refuses to cover us. To us, its
+bones are brass, and its features iron. In running thither for shelter
+and succor, we have only fled from the hungry blood-hound to the
+devouring wolf—from a corrupt and selfish world, to a hollow and
+hypocritical church.”—_Speech before American and Foreign Anti-Slavery
+Society, May_, 1854.
+
+Four years or more, from 1837 to 1841, he struggled on, in New Bedford,
+sawing wood, rolling casks, or doing what labor he might, to support
+himself and young family; four years he brooded over the scars which
+slavery and semi-slavery had inflicted upon his body and soul; and
+then, with his wounds yet unhealed, he fell among the Garrisonians—a
+glorious waif to those most ardent reformers. It happened one day, at
+Nantucket, that he, diffidently and reluctantly, was led to address an
+anti-slavery meeting. He was about the age when the younger Pitt
+entered the House of Commons; like Pitt, too, he stood up a born
+orator.
+
+William Lloyd Garrison, who was happily present, writes thus of Mr.
+Douglass’ maiden effort; “I shall never forget his first speech at the
+convention—the extraordinary emotion it excited in my own mind—the
+powerful impression it created upon a crowded auditory, completely
+taken by surprise. * * * I think I never hated slavery so intensely as
+at that moment; certainly, my perception of the enormous outrage which
+is inflicted by it on the godlike nature of its victims, was rendered
+far more clear than ever. There stood one in physical proportions and
+stature commanding and exact—in intellect richly endowed—in natural
+eloquence a prodigy.” 1
+
+It is of interest to compare Mr. Douglass’s account of this meeting
+with Mr. Garrison’s. Of the two, I think the latter the most correct.
+It must have been a grand burst of eloquence! The pent up agony,
+indignation and pathos of an abused and harrowed boyhood and youth,
+bursting out in all their freshness and overwhelming earnestness!
+
+This unique introduction to its great leader, led immediately to the
+employment of Mr. Douglass as an agent by the American Anti-Slavery
+Society. So far as his self-relying and independent character would
+permit, he became, after the strictest sect, a Garrisonian. It is not
+too much to say, that he formed a complement which they needed, and
+they were a complement equally necessary to his “make-up.” With his
+deep and keen sensitiveness to wrong, and his wonderful memory, he came
+from the land of bondage full of its woes and its evils, and painting
+them in characters of living light; and, on his part, he found, told
+out in sound Saxon phrase, all those principles of justice and right
+and liberty, which had dimly brooded over the dreams of his youth,
+seeking definite forms and verbal expression. It must have been an
+electric flashing of thought, and a knitting of soul, granted to but
+few in this life, and will be a life-long memory to those who
+participated in it. In the society, moreover, of Wendell Phillips,
+Edmund Quincy, William Lloyd Garrison, and other men of earnest faith
+and refined culture, Mr. Douglass enjoyed the high advantage of their
+assistance and counsel in the labor of self-culture, to which he now
+addressed himself with wonted energy. Yet, these gentlemen, although
+proud of Frederick Douglass, failed to fathom, and bring out to the
+light of day, the highest qualities of his mind; the force of their own
+education stood in their own way: they did not delve into the mind of a
+colored man for capacities which the pride of race led them to believe
+to be restricted to their own Saxon blood. Bitter and vindictive
+sarcasm, irresistible mimicry, and a pathetic narrative of his own
+experiences of slavery, were the intellectual manifestations which they
+encouraged him to exhibit on the platform or in the lecture desk.
+
+A visit to England, in 1845, threw Mr. Douglass among men and women of
+earnest souls and high culture, and who, moreover, had never drank of
+the bitter waters of American caste. For the first time in his life, he
+breathed an atmosphere congenial to the longings of his spirit, and
+felt his manhood free and unrestricted. The cordial and manly greetings
+of the British and Irish audiences in public, and the refinement and
+elegance of the social circles in which he mingled, not only as an
+equal, but as a recognized man of genius, were, doubtless, genial and
+pleasant resting places in his hitherto thorny and troubled journey
+through life. There are joys on the earth, and, to the wayfaring
+fugitive from American slavery or American caste, this is one of them.
+
+But his sojourn in England was more than a joy to Mr. Douglass. Like
+the platform at Nantucket, it awakened him to the consciousness of new
+powers that lay in him. From the pupilage of Garrisonism he rose to the
+dignity of a teacher and a thinker; his opinions on the broader aspects
+of the great American question were earnestly and incessantly sought,
+from various points of view, and he must, perforce, bestir himself to
+give suitable answer. With that prompt and truthful perception which
+has led their sisters in all ages of the world to gather at the feet
+and support the hands of reformers, the gentlewomen of England 2 were
+foremost to encourage and strengthen him to carve out for himself a
+path fitted to his powers and energies, in the life-battle against
+slavery and caste to which he was pledged. And one stirring thought,
+inseparable from the British idea of the evangel of freedom, must have
+smote his ear from every side—
+
+Hereditary bondmen! know ye not
+Who would be free, themselves mast strike the blow?
+
+
+The result of this visit was, that on his return to the United States,
+he established a newspaper. This proceeding was sorely against the
+wishes and the advice of the leaders of the American Anti-Slavery
+Society, but our author had fully grown up to the conviction of a truth
+which they had once promulged, but now forgotten, to wit: that in their
+own elevation—self-elevation—colored men have a blow to strike “on
+their own hook,” against slavery and caste. Differing from his Boston
+friends in this matter, diffident in his own abilities, reluctant at
+their dissuadings, how beautiful is the loyalty with which he still
+clung to their principles in all things else, and even in this.
+
+Now came the trial hour. Without cordial support from any large body of
+men or party on this side the Atlantic, and too far distant in space
+and immediate interest to expect much more, after the much already
+done, on the other side, he stood up, almost alone, to the arduous
+labor and heavy expenditure of editor and lecturer. The Garrison party,
+to which he still adhered, did not want a _colored_ newspaper—there was
+an odor of _caste_ about it; the Liberty party could hardly be expected
+to give warm support to a man who smote their principles as with a
+hammer; and the wide gulf which separated the free colored people from
+the Garrisonians, also separated them from their brother, Frederick
+Douglass.
+
+The arduous nature of his labors, from the date of the establishment of
+his paper, may be estimated by the fact, that anti-slavery papers in
+the United States, even while organs of, and when supported by,
+anti-slavery parties, have, with a single exception, failed to pay
+expenses. Mr. Douglass has maintained, and does maintain, his paper
+without the support of any party, and even in the teeth of the
+opposition of those from whom he had reason to expect counsel and
+encouragement. He has been compelled, at one and the same time, and
+almost constantly, during the past seven years, to contribute matter to
+its columns as editor, and to raise funds for its support as lecturer.
+It is within bounds to say, that he has expended twelve thousand
+dollars of his own hard earned money, in publishing this paper, a
+larger sum than has been contributed by any one individual for the
+general advancement of the colored people. There had been many other
+papers published and edited by colored men, beginning as far back as
+1827, when the Rev. Samuel E. Cornish and John B. Russworm (a graduate
+of Bowdoin college, and afterward Governor of Cape Palmas) published
+the _Freedom’s Journal_, in New York City; probably not less than one
+hundred newspaper enterprises have been started in the United States,
+by free colored men, born free, and some of them of liberal education
+and fair talents for this work; but, one after another, they have
+fallen through, although, in several instances, anti-slavery friends
+contributed to their support. 3 It had almost been given up, as an
+impracticable thing, to maintain a colored newspaper, when Mr.
+Douglass, with fewest early advantages of all his competitors, essayed,
+and has proved the thing perfectly practicable, and, moreover, of great
+public benefit. This paper, in addition to its power in holding up the
+hands of those to whom it is especially devoted, also affords
+irrefutable evidence of the justice, safety and practicability of
+Immediate Emancipation; it further proves the immense loss which
+slavery inflicts on the land while it dooms such energies as his to the
+hereditary degradation of slavery.
+
+It has been said in this Introduction, that Mr. Douglass had raised
+himself by his own efforts to the highest position in society. As a
+successful editor, in our land, he occupies this position. Our editors
+rule the land, and he is one of them. As an orator and thinker, his
+position is equally high, in the opinion of his countrymen. If a
+stranger in the United States would seek its most distinguished men—the
+movers of public opinion—he will find their names mentioned, and their
+movements chronicled, under the head of “BY MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH,” in the
+daily papers. The keen caterers for the public attention, set down, in
+this column, such men only as have won high mark in the public esteem.
+During the past winter—1854-5—very frequent mention of Frederick
+Douglass was made under this head in the daily papers; his name glided
+as often—this week from Chicago, next week from Boston—over the
+lightning wires, as the name of any other man, of whatever note. To no
+man did the people more widely nor more earnestly say, _“Tell me thy
+thought!”_ And, somehow or other, revolution seemed to follow in his
+wake. His were not the mere words of eloquence which Kossuth speaks of,
+that delight the ear and then pass away. No! They were _work_-able,
+_do_-able words, that brought forth fruits in the revolution in
+Illinois, and in the passage of the franchise resolutions by the
+Assembly of New York.
+
+And the secret of his power, what is it? He is a Representative
+American man—a type of his countrymen. Naturalists tell us that a full
+grown man is a resultant or representative of all animated nature on
+this globe; beginning with the early embryo state, then representing
+the lowest forms of organic life, 4 and passing through every
+subordinate grade or type, until he reaches the last and
+highest—manhood. In like manner, and to the fullest extent, has
+Frederick Douglass passed through every gradation of rank comprised in
+our national make-up, and bears upon his person and upon his soul every
+thing that is American. And he has not only full sympathy with every
+thing American; his proclivity or bent, to active toil and visible
+progress, are in the strictly national direction, delighting to
+outstrip “all creation.”
+
+Nor have the natural gifts, already named as his, lost anything by his
+severe training. When unexcited, his mental processes are probably
+slow, but singularly clear in perception, and wide in vision, the
+unfailing memory bringing up all the facts in their every aspect;
+incongruities he lays hold of incontinently, and holds up on the edge
+of his keen and telling wit. But this wit never descends to frivolity;
+it is rigidly in the keeping of his truthful common sense, and always
+used in illustration or proof of some point which could not so readily
+be reached any other way. “Beware of a Yankee when he is feeding,” is a
+shaft that strikes home in a matter never so laid bare by satire
+before. “The Garrisonian views of disunion, if carried to a successful
+issue, would only place the people of the north in the same relation to
+American slavery which they now bear to the slavery of Cuba or the
+Brazils,” is a statement, in a few words, which contains the result and
+the evidence of an argument which might cover pages, but could not
+carry stronger conviction, nor be stated in less pregnable form. In
+proof of this, I may say, that having been submitted to the attention
+of the Garrisonians in print, in March, it was repeated before them at
+their business meeting in May—the platform, _par excellence_, on which
+they invite free fight, _a l’outrance_, to all comers. It was given out
+in the clear, ringing tones, wherewith the hall of shields was wont to
+resound of old, yet neither Garrison, nor Phillips, nor May, nor
+Remond, nor Foster, nor Burleigh, with his subtle steel of “the ice
+brook’s temper,” ventured to break a lance upon it! The doctrine of the
+dissolution of the Union, as a means for the abolition of American
+slavery, was silenced upon the lips that gave it birth, and in the
+presence of an array of defenders who compose the keenest intellects in
+the land.
+
+_“The man who is right is a majority”_ is an aphorism struck out by Mr.
+Douglass in that great gathering of the friends of freedom, at
+Pittsburgh, in 1852, where he towered among the highest, because, with
+abilities inferior to none, and moved more deeply than any, there was
+neither policy nor party to trammel the outpourings of his soul. Thus
+we find, opposed to all disadvantages which a black man in the United
+States labors and struggles under, is this one vantage ground—when the
+chance comes, and the audience where he may have a say, he stands forth
+the freest, most deeply moved and most earnest of all men.
+
+It has been said of Mr. Douglass, that his descriptive and declamatory
+powers, admitted to be of the very highest order, take precedence of
+his logical force. Whilst the schools might have trained him to the
+exhibition of the formulas of deductive logic, nature and circumstances
+forced him into the exercise of the higher faculties required by
+induction. The first ninety pages of this “Life in Bondage,” afford
+specimens of observing, comparing, and careful classifying, of such
+superior character, that it is difficult to believe them the results of
+a child’s thinking; he questions the earth, and the children and the
+slaves around him again and again, and finally looks to _“God in the
+sky”_ for the why and the wherefore of the unnatural thing, slavery.
+_“Yes, if indeed thou art, wherefore dost thou suffer us to be slain?”_
+is the only prayer and worship of the God-forsaken Dodos in the heart
+of Africa. Almost the same was his prayer. One of his earliest
+observations was that white children should know their ages, while the
+colored children were ignorant of theirs; and the songs of the slaves
+grated on his inmost soul, because a something told him that harmony in
+sound, and music of the spirit, could not consociate with miserable
+degradation.
+
+To such a mind, the ordinary processes of logical deduction are like
+proving that two and two make four. Mastering the intermediate steps by
+an intuitive glance, or recurring to them as Ferguson resorted to
+geometry, it goes down to the deeper relation of things, and brings out
+what may seem, to some, mere statements, but which are new and
+brilliant generalizations, each resting on a broad and stable basis.
+Thus, Chief Justice Marshall gave his decisions, and then told Brother
+Story to look up the authorities—and they never differed from him.
+Thus, also, in his “Lecture on the Anti-Slavery Movement,” delivered
+before the Rochester Ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society, Mr. Douglass
+presents a mass of thought, which, without any showy display of logic
+on his part, requires an exercise of the reasoning faculties of the
+reader to keep pace with him. And his “Claims of the Negro
+Ethnologically Considered,” is full of new and fresh thoughts on the
+dawning science of race-history.
+
+If, as has been stated, his intellection is slow, when unexcited, it is
+most prompt and rapid when he is thoroughly aroused. Memory, logic,
+wit, sarcasm, invective pathos and bold imagery of rare structural
+beauty, well up as from a copious fountain, yet each in its proper
+place, and contributing to form a whole, grand in itself, yet complete
+in the minutest proportions. It is most difficult to hedge him in a
+corner, for his positions are taken so deliberately, that it is rare to
+find a point in them undefended aforethought. Professor Reason tells me
+the following: “On a recent visit of a public nature, to Philadelphia,
+and in a meeting composed mostly of his colored brethren, Mr. Douglass
+proposed a comparison of views in the matters of the relations and
+duties of ‘our people;’ he holding that prejudice was the result of
+condition, and could be conquered by the efforts of the degraded
+themselves. A gentleman present, distinguished for logical acumen and
+subtlety, and who had devoted no small portion of the last twenty-five
+years to the study and elucidation of this very question, held the
+opposite view, that prejudice is innate and unconquerable. He
+terminated a series of well dove-tailed, Socratic questions to Mr.
+Douglass, with the following: ‘If the legislature at Harrisburgh should
+awaken, to-morrow morning, and find each man’s skin turned black and
+his hair woolly, what could they do to remove prejudice?’ ‘Immediately
+pass laws entitling black men to all civil, political and social
+privileges,’ was the instant reply—and the questioning ceased.”
+
+The most remarkable mental phenomenon in Mr. Douglass, is his style in
+writing and speaking. In March, 1855, he delivered an address in the
+assembly chamber before the members of the legislature of the state of
+New York. An eye witness 5 describes the crowded and most intelligent
+audience, and their rapt attention to the speaker, as the grandest
+scene he ever witnessed in the capitol. Among those whose eyes were
+riveted on the speaker full two hours and a half, were Thurlow Weed and
+Lieutenant Governor Raymond; the latter, at the conclusion of the
+address, exclaimed to a friend, “I would give twenty thousand dollars,
+if I could deliver that address in that manner.” Mr. Raymond is a first
+class graduate of Dartmouth, a rising politician, ranking foremost in
+the legislature; of course, his ideal of oratory must be of the most
+polished and finished description.
+
+The style of Mr. Douglass in writing, is to me an intellectual puzzle.
+The strength, affluence and terseness may easily be accounted for,
+because the style of a man is the man; but how are we to account for
+that rare polish in his style of writing, which, most critically
+examined, seems the result of careful early culture among the best
+classics of our language; it equals if it does not surpass the style of
+Hugh Miller, which was the wonder of the British literary public, until
+he unraveled the mystery in the most interesting of autobiographies.
+But Frederick Douglass was still calking the seams of Baltimore
+clippers, and had only written a “pass,” at the age when Miller’s style
+was already formed.
+
+I asked William Whipper, of Pennsylvania, the gentleman alluded to
+above, whether he thought Mr. Douglass’s power inherited from the
+Negroid, or from what is called the Caucasian side of his make up?
+After some reflection, he frankly answered, “I must admit, although
+sorry to do so, that the Caucasian predominates.” At that time, I
+almost agreed with him; but, facts narrated in the first part of this
+work, throw a different light on this interesting question.
+
+We are left in the dark as to who was the paternal ancestor of our
+author; a fact which generally holds good of the Romuluses and Remuses
+who are to inaugurate the new birth of our republic. In the absence of
+testimony from the Caucasian side, we must see what evidence is given
+on the other side of the house.
+
+“My grandmother, though advanced in years, * * * was yet a woman of
+power and spirit. She was marvelously straight in figure, elastic and
+muscular.” (p. 46.)
+
+After describing her skill in constructing nets, her perseverance in
+using them, and her wide-spread fame in the agricultural way he adds,
+“It happened to her—as it will happen to any careful and thrifty person
+residing in an ignorant and improvident neighborhood—to enjoy the
+reputation of being born to good luck.” And his grandmother was a black
+woman.
+
+“My mother was tall, and finely proportioned; of deep black, glossy
+complexion; had regular features; and among other slaves was remarkably
+sedate in her manners.” “Being a field hand, she was obliged to walk
+twelve miles and return, between nightfall and daybreak, to see her
+children” (p. 54.) “I shall never forget the indescribable expression
+of her countenance when I told her that I had had no food since
+morning. * * * There was pity in her glance at me, and a fiery
+indignation at Aunt Katy at the same time; * * * * she read Aunt Katy a
+lecture which she never forgot.” (p. 56.) “I learned after my mother’s
+death, that she could read, and that she was the _only_ one of all the
+slaves and colored people in Tuckahoe who enjoyed that advantage. How
+she acquired this knowledge, I know not, for Tuckahoe is the last place
+in the world where she would be apt to find facilities for learning.”
+(p. 57.) “There is, in _Prichard’s Natural History of Man_, the head of
+a figure—on page 157—the features of which so resemble those of my
+mother, that I often recur to it with something of the feeling which I
+suppose others experience when looking upon the pictures of dear
+departed ones.” (p. 52.)
+
+The head alluded to is copied from the statue of Ramses the Great, an
+Egyptian king of the nineteenth dynasty. The authors of the _Types of
+Mankind_ give a side view of the same on page 148, remarking that the
+profile, “like Napoleon’s, is superbly European!” The nearness of its
+resemblance to Mr. Douglass’ mother rests upon the evidence of his
+memory, and judging from his almost marvelous feats of recollection of
+forms and outlines recorded in this book, this testimony may be
+admitted.
+
+These facts show that for his energy, perseverance, eloquence,
+invective, sagacity, and wide sympathy, he is indebted to his Negro
+blood. The very marvel of his style would seem to be a development of
+that other marvel—how his mother learned to read. The versatility of
+talent which he wields, in common with Dumas, Ira Aldridge, and Miss
+Greenfield, would seem to be the result of the grafting of the
+Anglo-Saxon on good, original, Negro stock. If the friends of
+“Caucasus” choose to claim, for that region, what remains after this
+analysis—to wit: combination—they are welcome to it. They will forgive
+me for reminding them that the term “Caucasian” is dropped by recent
+writers on Ethnology; for the people about Mount Caucasus, are, and
+have ever been, Mongols. The great “white race” now seek paternity,
+according to Dr. Pickering, in Arabia—“Arida Nutrix” of the best breed
+of horses &c. Keep on, gentlemen; you will find yourselves in Africa,
+by-and-by. The Egyptians, like the Americans, were a _mixed race_, with
+some Negro blood circling around the throne, as well as in the mud
+hovels.
+
+This is the proper place to remark of our author, that the same strong
+self-hood, which led him to measure strength with Mr. Covey, and to
+wrench himself from the embrace of the Garrisonians, and which has
+borne him through many resistances to the personal indignities offered
+him as a colored man, sometimes becomes a hyper-sensitiveness to such
+assaults as men of his mark will meet with, on paper. Keen and
+unscrupulous opponents have sought, and not unsuccessfully, to pierce
+him in this direction; for well they know, that if assailed, he will
+smite back.
+
+It is not without a feeling of pride, dear reader, that I present you
+with this book. The son of a self-emancipated bond-woman, I feel joy in
+introducing to you my brother, who has rent his own bonds, and who, in
+his every relation—as a public man, as a husband and as a father—is
+such as does honor to the land which gave him birth. I shall place this
+book in the hands of the only child spared me, bidding him to strive
+and emulate its noble example. You may do likewise. It is an American
+book, for Americans, in the fullest sense of the idea. It shows that
+the worst of our institutions, in its worst aspect, cannot keep down
+energy, truthfulness, and earnest struggle for the right. It proves the
+justice and practicability of Immediate Emancipation. It shows that any
+man in our land, “no matter in what battle his liberty may have been
+cloven down, * * * * no matter what complexion an Indian or an African
+sun may have burned upon him,” not only may “stand forth redeemed and
+disenthralled,” but may also stand up a candidate for the highest
+suffrage of a great people—the tribute of their honest, hearty
+admiration. Reader, _Vale! New York_
+
+JAMES M’CUNE SMITH
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. _Childhood_
+
+
+PLACE OF BIRTH—CHARACTER OF THE DISTRICT—TUCKAHOE—ORIGIN OF THE
+NAME—CHOPTANK RIVER—TIME OF BIRTH—GENEALOGICAL TREES—MODE OF COUNTING
+TIME—NAMES OF GRANDPARENTS—THEIR POSITION—GRANDMOTHER ESPECIALLY
+ESTEEMED—“BORN TO GOOD LUCK”—SWEET POTATOES—SUPERSTITION—THE LOG
+CABIN—ITS CHARMS—SEPARATING CHILDREN—MY AUNTS—THEIR NAMES—FIRST
+KNOWLEDGE OF BEING A SLAVE—OLD MASTER—GRIEFS AND JOYS OF
+CHILDHOOD—COMPARATIVE HAPPINESS OF THE SLAVE-BOY AND THE SON OF A
+SLAVEHOLDER.
+
+
+In Talbot county, Eastern Shore, Maryland, near Easton, the county town
+of that county, there is a small district of country, thinly populated,
+and remarkable for nothing that I know of more than for the worn-out,
+sandy, desert-like appearance of its soil, the general dilapidation of
+its farms and fences, the indigent and spiritless character of its
+inhabitants, and the prevalence of ague and fever.
+
+The name of this singularly unpromising and truly famine stricken
+district is Tuckahoe, a name well known to all Marylanders, black and
+white. It was given to this section of country probably, at the first,
+merely in derision; or it may possibly have been applied to it, as I
+have heard, because some one of its earlier inhabitants had been guilty
+of the petty meanness of stealing a hoe—or taking a hoe that did not
+belong to him. Eastern Shore men usually pronounce the word _took_, as
+_tuck; Took-a-hoe_, therefore, is, in Maryland parlance, _Tuckahoe_.
+But, whatever may have been its origin—and about this I will not be
+positive—that name has stuck to the district in question; and it is
+seldom mentioned but with contempt and derision, on account of the
+barrenness of its soil, and the ignorance, indolence, and poverty of
+its people. Decay and ruin are everywhere visible, and the thin
+population of the place would have quitted it long ago, but for the
+Choptank river, which runs through it, from which they take abundance
+of shad and herring, and plenty of ague and fever.
+
+It was in this dull, flat, and unthrifty district, or neighborhood,
+surrounded by a white population of the lowest order, indolent and
+drunken to a proverb, and among slaves, who seemed to ask, _“Oh! what’s
+the use?”_ every time they lifted a hoe, that I—without any fault of
+mine was born, and spent the first years of my childhood.
+
+The reader will pardon so much about the place of my birth, on the
+score that it is always a fact of some importance to know where a man
+is born, if, indeed, it be important to know anything about him. In
+regard to the _time_ of my birth, I cannot be as definite as I have
+been respecting the _place_. Nor, indeed, can I impart much knowledge
+concerning my parents. Genealogical trees do not flourish among slaves.
+A person of some consequence here in the north, sometimes designated
+_father_, is literally abolished in slave law and slave practice. It is
+only once in a while that an exception is found to this statement. I
+never met with a slave who could tell me how old he was. Few
+slave-mothers know anything of the months of the year, nor of the days
+of the month. They keep no family records, with marriages, births, and
+deaths. They measure the ages of their children by spring time, winter
+time, harvest time, planting time, and the like; but these soon become
+undistinguishable and forgotten. Like other slaves, I cannot tell how
+old I am. This destitution was among my earliest troubles. I learned
+when I grew up, that my master—and this is the case with masters
+generally—allowed no questions to be put to him, by which a slave might
+learn his age. Such questions deemed evidence of impatience, and even
+of impudent curiosity. From certain events, however, the dates of which
+I have since learned, I suppose myself to have been born about the year
+1817.
+
+The first experience of life with me that I now remember—and I remember
+it but hazily—began in the family of my grandmother and grandfather.
+Betsey and Isaac Baily. They were quite advanced in life, and had long
+lived on the spot where they then resided. They were considered old
+settlers in the neighborhood, and, from certain circumstances, I infer
+that my grandmother, especially, was held in high esteem, far higher
+than is the lot of most colored persons in the slave states. She was a
+good nurse, and a capital hand at making nets for catching shad and
+herring; and these nets were in great demand, not only in Tuckahoe, but
+at Denton and Hillsboro, neighboring villages. She was not only good at
+making the nets, but was also somewhat famous for her good fortune in
+taking the fishes referred to. I have known her to be in the water half
+the day. Grandmother was likewise more provident than most of her
+neighbors in the preservation of seedling sweet potatoes, and it
+happened to her—as it will happen to any careful and thrifty person
+residing in an ignorant and improvident community—to enjoy the
+reputation of having been born to “good luck.” Her “good luck” was
+owing to the exceeding care which she took in preventing the succulent
+root from getting bruised in the digging, and in placing it beyond the
+reach of frost, by actually burying it under the hearth of her cabin
+during the winter months. In the time of planting sweet potatoes,
+“Grandmother Betty,” as she was familiarly called, was sent for in all
+directions, simply to place the seedling potatoes in the hills; for
+superstition had it, that if “Grandmamma Betty but touches them at
+planting, they will be sure to grow and flourish.” This high reputation
+was full of advantage to her, and to the children around her. Though
+Tuckahoe had but few of the good things of life, yet of such as it did
+possess grandmother got a full share, in the way of presents. If good
+potato crops came after her planting, she was not forgotten by those
+for whom she planted; and as she was remembered by others, so she
+remembered the hungry little ones around her.
+
+The dwelling of my grandmother and grandfather had few pretensions. It
+was a log hut, or cabin, built of clay, wood, and straw. At a distance
+it resembled—though it was smaller, less commodious and less
+substantial—the cabins erected in the western states by the first
+settlers. To my child’s eye, however, it was a noble structure,
+admirably adapted to promote the comforts and conveniences of its
+inmates. A few rough, Virginia fence-rails, flung loosely over the
+rafters above, answered the triple purpose of floors, ceilings, and
+bedsteads. To be sure, this upper apartment was reached only by a
+ladder—but what in the world for climbing could be better than a
+ladder? To me, this ladder was really a high invention, and possessed a
+sort of charm as I played with delight upon the rounds of it. In this
+little hut there was a large family of children: I dare not say how
+many. My grandmother—whether because too old for field service, or
+because she had so faithfully discharged the duties of her station in
+early life, I know not—enjoyed the high privilege of living in a cabin,
+separate from the quarter, with no other burden than her own support,
+and the necessary care of the little children, imposed. She evidently
+esteemed it a great fortune to live so. The children were not her own,
+but her grandchildren—the children of her daughters. She took delight
+in having them around her, and in attending to their few wants. The
+practice of separating children from their mother, and hiring the
+latter out at distances too great to admit of their meeting, except at
+long intervals, is a marked feature of the cruelty and barbarity of the
+slave system. But it is in harmony with the grand aim of slavery,
+which, always and everywhere, is to reduce man to a level with the
+brute. It is a successful method of obliterating from the mind and
+heart of the slave, all just ideas of the sacredness of _the family_,
+as an institution.
+
+Most of the children, however, in this instance, being the children of
+my grandmother’s daughters, the notions of family, and the reciprocal
+duties and benefits of the relation, had a better chance of being
+understood than where children are placed—as they often are in the
+hands of strangers, who have no care for them, apart from the wishes of
+their masters. The daughters of my grandmother were five in number.
+Their names were JENNY, ESTHER, MILLY, PRISCILLA, and HARRIET. The
+daughter last named was my mother, of whom the reader shall learn more
+by-and-by.
+
+Living here, with my dear old grandmother and grandfather, it was a
+long time before I knew myself to be _a slave_. I knew many other
+things before I knew that. Grandmother and grandfather were the
+greatest people in the world to me; and being with them so snugly in
+their own little cabin—I supposed it be their own—knowing no higher
+authority over me or the other children than the authority of
+grandmamma, for a time there was nothing to disturb me; but, as I grew
+larger and older, I learned by degrees the sad fact, that the “little
+hut,” and the lot on which it stood, belonged not to my dear old
+grandparents, but to some person who lived a great distance off, and
+who was called, by grandmother, “OLD MASTER.” I further learned the
+sadder fact, that not only the house and lot, but that grandmother
+herself, (grandfather was free,) and all the little children around
+her, belonged to this mysterious personage, called by grandmother, with
+every mark of reverence, “Old Master.” Thus early did clouds and
+shadows begin to fall upon my path. Once on the track—troubles never
+come singly—I was not long in finding out another fact, still more
+grievous to my childish heart. I was told that this “old master,” whose
+name seemed ever to be mentioned with fear and shuddering, only allowed
+the children to live with grandmother for a limited time, and that in
+fact as soon as they were big enough, they were promptly taken away, to
+live with the said “old master.” These were distressing revelations
+indeed; and though I was quite too young to comprehend the full import
+of the intelligence, and mostly spent my childhood days in gleesome
+sports with the other children, a shade of disquiet rested upon me.
+
+The absolute power of this distant “old master” had touched my young
+spirit with but the point of its cold, cruel iron, and left me
+something to brood over after the play and in moments of repose.
+Grandmammy was, indeed, at that time, all the world to me; and the
+thought of being separated from her, in any considerable time, was more
+than an unwelcome intruder. It was intolerable.
+
+Children have their sorrows as well as men and women; and it would be
+well to remember this in our dealings with them. SLAVE-children _are_
+children, and prove no exceptions to the general rule. The liability to
+be separated from my grandmother, seldom or never to see her again,
+haunted me. I dreaded the thought of going to live with that mysterious
+“old master,” whose name I never heard mentioned with affection, but
+always with fear. I look back to this as among the heaviest of my
+childhood’s sorrows. My grandmother! my grandmother! and the little
+hut, and the joyous circle under her care, but especially _she_, who
+made us sorry when she left us but for an hour, and glad on her
+return,—how could I leave her and the good old home?
+
+But the sorrows of childhood, like the pleasures of after life, are
+transient. It is not even within the power of slavery to write
+_indelible_ sorrow, at a single dash, over the heart of a child.
+
+The tear down childhood’s cheek that flows,
+Is like the dew-drop on the rose—
+When next the summer breeze comes by,
+And waves the bush—the flower is dry.
+
+
+There is, after all, but little difference in the measure of
+contentment felt by the slave-child neglected and the slaveholder’s
+child cared for and petted. The spirit of the All Just mercifully holds
+the balance for the young.
+
+The slaveholder, having nothing to fear from impotent childhood, easily
+affords to refrain from cruel inflictions; and if cold and hunger do
+not pierce the tender frame, the first seven or eight years of the
+slave-boy’s life are about as full of sweet content as those of the
+most favored and petted _white_ children of the slaveholder. The
+slave-boy escapes many troubles which befall and vex his white brother.
+He seldom has to listen to lectures on propriety of behavior, or on
+anything else. He is never chided for handling his little knife and
+fork improperly or awkwardly, for he uses none. He is never reprimanded
+for soiling the table-cloth, for he takes his meals on the clay floor.
+He never has the misfortune, in his games or sports, of soiling or
+tearing his clothes, for he has almost none to soil or tear. He is
+never expected to act like a nice little gentleman, for he is only a
+rude little slave. Thus, freed from all restraint, the slave-boy can
+be, in his life and conduct, a genuine boy, doing whatever his boyish
+nature suggests; enacting, by turns, all the strange antics and freaks
+of horses, dogs, pigs, and barn-door fowls, without in any manner
+compromising his dignity, or incurring reproach of any sort. He
+literally runs wild; has no pretty little verses to learn in the
+nursery; no nice little speeches to make for aunts, uncles, or cousins,
+to show how smart he is; and, if he can only manage to keep out of the
+way of the heavy feet and fists of the older slave boys, he may trot
+on, in his joyous and roguish tricks, as happy as any little heathen
+under the palm trees of Africa. To be sure, he is occasionally
+reminded, when he stumbles in the path of his master—and this he early
+learns to avoid—that he is eating his _“white bread,”_ and that he will
+be made to _“see sights”_ by-and-by. The threat is soon forgotten; the
+shadow soon passes, and our sable boy continues to roll in the dust, or
+play in the mud, as bests suits him, and in the veriest freedom. If he
+feels uncomfortable, from mud or from dust, the coast is clear; he can
+plunge into the river or the pond, without the ceremony of undressing,
+or the fear of wetting his clothes; his little tow-linen shirt—for that
+is all he has on—is easily dried; and it needed ablution as much as did
+his skin. His food is of the coarsest kind, consisting for the most
+part of cornmeal mush, which often finds it way from the wooden tray to
+his mouth in an oyster shell. His days, when the weather is warm, are
+spent in the pure, open air, and in the bright sunshine. He always
+sleeps in airy apartments; he seldom has to take powders, or to be paid
+to swallow pretty little sugar-coated pills, to cleanse his blood, or
+to quicken his appetite. He eats no candies; gets no lumps of loaf
+sugar; always relishes his food; cries but little, for nobody cares for
+his crying; learns to esteem his bruises but slight, because others so
+esteem them. In a word, he is, for the most part of the first eight
+years of his life, a spirited, joyous, uproarious, and happy boy, upon
+whom troubles fall only like water on a duck’s back. And such a boy, so
+far as I can now remember, was the boy whose life in slavery I am now
+narrating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. _Removed from My First Home_
+
+
+THE NAME “OLD MASTER” A TERROR—COLONEL LLOYD’S PLANTATION—WYE
+RIVER—WHENCE ITS NAME—POSITION OF THE LLOYDS—HOME ATTRACTION—MEET
+OFFERING—JOURNEY FROM TUCKAHOE TO WYE RIVER—SCENE ON REACHING OLD
+MASTER’S—DEPARTURE OF GRANDMOTHER—STRANGE MEETING OF SISTERS AND
+BROTHERS—REFUSAL TO BE COMFORTED—SWEET SLEEP.
+
+
+That mysterious individual referred to in the first chapter as an
+object of terror among the inhabitants of our little cabin, under the
+ominous title of “old master,” was really a man of some consequence. He
+owned several farms in Tuckahoe; was the chief clerk and butler on the
+home plantation of Col. Edward Lloyd; had overseers on his own farms;
+and gave directions to overseers on the farms belonging to Col. Lloyd.
+This plantation is situated on Wye river—the river receiving its name,
+doubtless, from Wales, where the Lloyds originated. They (the Lloyds)
+are an old and honored family in Maryland, exceedingly wealthy. The
+home plantation, where they have resided, perhaps for a century or
+more, is one of the largest, most fertile, and best appointed, in the
+state.
+
+About this plantation, and about that queer old master—who must be
+something more than a man, and something worse than an angel—the reader
+will easily imagine that I was not only curious, but eager, to know all
+that could be known. Unhappily for me, however, all the information I
+could get concerning him increased my great dread of being carried
+thither—of being separated from and deprived of the protection of my
+grandmother and grandfather. It was, evidently, a great thing to go to
+Col. Lloyd’s; and I was not without a little curiosity to see the
+place; but no amount of coaxing could induce in me the wish to remain
+there. The fact is, such was my dread of leaving the little cabin, that
+I wished to remain little forever, for I knew the taller I grew the
+shorter my stay. The old cabin, with its rail floor and rail bedsteads
+upstairs, and its clay floor downstairs, and its dirt chimney, and
+windowless sides, and that most curious piece of workmanship dug in
+front of the fireplace, beneath which grandmammy placed the sweet
+potatoes to keep them from the frost, was MY HOME—the only home I ever
+had; and I loved it, and all connected with it. The old fences around
+it, and the stumps in the edge of the woods near it, and the squirrels
+that ran, skipped, and played upon them, were objects of interest and
+affection. There, too, right at the side of the hut, stood the old
+well, with its stately and skyward-pointing beam, so aptly placed
+between the limbs of what had once been a tree, and so nicely balanced
+that I could move it up and down with only one hand, and could get a
+drink myself without calling for help. Where else in the world could
+such a well be found, and where could such another home be met with?
+Nor were these all the attractions of the place. Down in a little
+valley, not far from grandmammy’s cabin, stood Mr. Lee’s mill, where
+the people came often in large numbers to get their corn ground. It was
+a watermill; and I never shall be able to tell the many things thought
+and felt, while I sat on the bank and watched that mill, and the
+turning of that ponderous wheel. The mill-pond, too, had its charms;
+and with my pinhook, and thread line, I could get _nibbles_, if I could
+catch no fish. But, in all my sports and plays, and in spite of them,
+there would, occasionally, come the painful foreboding that I was not
+long to remain there, and that I must soon be called away to the home
+of old master.
+
+I was A SLAVE—born a slave and though the fact was incomprehensible to
+me, it conveyed to my mind a sense of my entire dependence on the will
+of _somebody_ I had never seen; and, from some cause or other, I had
+been made to fear this somebody above all else on earth. Born for
+another’s benefit, as the _firstling_ of the cabin flock I was soon to
+be selected as a meet offering to the fearful and inexorable _demigod_,
+whose huge image on so many occasions haunted my childhood’s
+imagination. When the time of my departure was decided upon, my
+grandmother, knowing my fears, and in pity for them, kindly kept me
+ignorant of the dreaded event about to transpire. Up to the morning (a
+beautiful summer morning) when we were to start, and, indeed, during
+the whole journey—a journey which, child as I was, I remember as well
+as if it were yesterday—she kept the sad fact hidden from me. This
+reserve was necessary; for, could I have known all, I should have given
+grandmother some trouble in getting me started. As it was, I was
+helpless, and she—dear woman!—led me along by the hand, resisting, with
+the reserve and solemnity of a priestess, all my inquiring looks to the
+last.
+
+The distance from Tuckahoe to Wye river—where my old master lived—was
+full twelve miles, and the walk was quite a severe test of the
+endurance of my young legs. The journey would have proved too severe
+for me, but that my dear old grandmother—blessings on her
+memory!—afforded occasional relief by “toting” me (as Marylanders have
+it) on her shoulder. My grandmother, though advanced in years—as was
+evident from more than one gray hair, which peeped from between the
+ample and graceful folds of her newly-ironed bandana turban—was yet a
+woman of power and spirit. She was marvelously straight in figure,
+elastic, and muscular. I seemed hardly to be a burden to her. She would
+have “toted” me farther, but that I felt myself too much of a man to
+allow it, and insisted on walking. Releasing dear grandmamma from
+carrying me, did not make me altogether independent of her, when we
+happened to pass through portions of the somber woods which lay between
+Tuckahoe and Wye river. She often found me increasing the energy of my
+grip, and holding her clothing, lest something should come out of the
+woods and eat me up. Several old logs and stumps imposed upon me, and
+got themselves taken for wild beasts. I could see their legs, eyes, and
+ears, or I could see something like eyes, legs, and ears, till I got
+close enough to them to see that the eyes were knots, washed white with
+rain, and the legs were broken limbs, and the ears, only ears owing to
+the point from which they were seen. Thus early I learned that the
+point from which a thing is viewed is of some importance.
+
+As the day advanced the heat increased; and it was not until the
+afternoon that we reached the much dreaded end of the journey. I found
+myself in the midst of a group of children of many colors; black,
+brown, copper colored, and nearly white. I had not seen so many
+children before. Great houses loomed up in different directions, and a
+great many men and women were at work in the fields. All this hurry,
+noise, and singing was very different from the stillness of Tuckahoe.
+As a new comer, I was an object of special interest; and, after
+laughing and yelling around me, and playing all sorts of wild tricks,
+they (the children) asked me to go out and play with them. This I
+refused to do, preferring to stay with grandmamma. I could not help
+feeling that our being there boded no good to me. Grandmamma looked
+sad. She was soon to lose another object of affection, as she had lost
+many before. I knew she was unhappy, and the shadow fell from her brow
+on me, though I knew not the cause.
+
+All suspense, however, must have an end; and the end of mine, in this
+instance, was at hand. Affectionately patting me on the head, and
+exhorting me to be a good boy, grandmamma told me to go and play with
+the little children. “They are kin to you,” said she; “go and play with
+them.” Among a number of cousins were Phil, Tom, Steve, and Jerry,
+Nance and Betty.
+
+Grandmother pointed out my brother PERRY, my sister SARAH, and my
+sister ELIZA, who stood in the group. I had never seen my brother nor
+my sisters before; and, though I had sometimes heard of them, and felt
+a curious interest in them, I really did not understand what they were
+to me, or I to them. We were brothers and sisters, but what of that?
+Why should they be attached to me, or I to them? Brothers and sisters
+we were by blood; but _slavery_ had made us strangers. I heard the
+words brother and sisters, and knew they must mean something; but
+slavery had robbed these terms of their true meaning. The experience
+through which I was passing, they had passed through before. They had
+already been initiated into the mysteries of old master’s domicile, and
+they seemed to look upon me with a certain degree of compassion; but my
+heart clave to my grandmother. Think it not strange, dear reader, that
+so little sympathy of feeling existed between us. The conditions of
+brotherly and sisterly feeling were wanting—we had never nestled and
+played together. My poor mother, like many other slave-women, had many
+_children_, but NO FAMILY! The domestic hearth, with its holy lessons
+and precious endearments, is abolished in the case of a slave-mother
+and her children. “Little children, love one another,” are words seldom
+heard in a slave cabin.
+
+I really wanted to play with my brother and sisters, but they were
+strangers to me, and I was full of fear that grandmother might leave
+without taking me with her. Entreated to do so, however, and that, too,
+by my dear grandmother, I went to the back part of the house, to play
+with them and the other children. _Play_, however, I did not, but stood
+with my back against the wall, witnessing the playing of the others. At
+last, while standing there, one of the children, who had been in the
+kitchen, ran up to me, in a sort of roguish glee, exclaiming, “Fed,
+Fed! grandmammy gone! grandmammy gone!” I could not believe it; yet,
+fearing the worst, I ran into the kitchen, to see for myself, and found
+it even so. Grandmammy had indeed gone, and was now far away, “clean”
+out of sight. I need not tell all that happened now. Almost
+heart-broken at the discovery, I fell upon the ground, and wept a boy’s
+bitter tears, refusing to be comforted. My brother and sisters came
+around me, and said, “Don’t cry,” and gave me peaches and pears, but I
+flung them away, and refused all their kindly advances. I had never
+been deceived before; and I felt not only grieved at parting—as I
+supposed forever—with my grandmother, but indignant that a trick had
+been played upon me in a matter so serious.
+
+It was now late in the afternoon. The day had been an exciting and
+wearisome one, and I knew not how or where, but I suppose I sobbed
+myself to sleep. There is a healing in the angel wing of sleep, even
+for the slave-boy; and its balm was never more welcome to any wounded
+soul than it was to mine, the first night I spent at the domicile of
+old master. The reader may be surprised that I narrate so minutely an
+incident apparently so trivial, and which must have occurred when I was
+not more than seven years old; but as I wish to give a faithful history
+of my experience in slavery, I cannot withhold a circumstance which, at
+the time, affected me so deeply. Besides, this was, in fact, my first
+introduction to the realities of slavery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. _Parentage_
+
+
+MY FATHER SHROUDED IN MYSTERY—MY MOTHER—HER PERSONAL
+APPEARANCE—INTERFERENCE OF SLAVERY WITH THE NATURAL AFFECTIONS OF
+MOTHER AND CHILDREN—SITUATION OF MY MOTHER—HER NIGHTLY VISITS TO HER
+BOY—STRIKING INCIDENT—HER DEATH—HER PLACE OF BURIAL.
+
+
+If the reader will now be kind enough to allow me time to grow bigger,
+and afford me an opportunity for my experience to become greater, I
+will tell him something, by-and-by, of slave life, as I saw, felt, and
+heard it, on Col. Edward Lloyd’s plantation, and at the house of old
+master, where I had now, despite of myself, most suddenly, but not
+unexpectedly, been dropped. Meanwhile, I will redeem my promise to say
+something more of my dear mother.
+
+I say nothing of _father_, for he is shrouded in a mystery I have never
+been able to penetrate. Slavery does away with fathers, as it does away
+with families. Slavery has no use for either fathers or families, and
+its laws do not recognize their existence in the social arrangements of
+the plantation. When they _do_ exist, they are not the outgrowths of
+slavery, but are antagonistic to that system. The order of civilization
+is reversed here. The name of the child is not expected to be that of
+its father, and his condition does not necessarily affect that of the
+child. He may be the slave of Mr. Tilgman; and his child, when born,
+may be the slave of Mr. Gross. He may be a _freeman;_ and yet his child
+may be a _chattel_. He may be white, glorying in the purity of his
+Anglo-Saxon blood; and his child may be ranked with the blackest
+slaves. Indeed, he _may_ be, and often _is_, master and father to the
+same child. He can be father without being a husband, and may sell his
+child without incurring reproach, if the child be by a woman in whose
+veins courses one thirty-second part of African blood. My father was a
+white man, or nearly white. It was sometimes whispered that my master
+was my father.
+
+But to return, or rather, to begin. My knowledge of my mother is very
+scanty, but very distinct. Her personal appearance and bearing are
+ineffaceably stamped upon my memory. She was tall, and finely
+proportioned; of deep black, glossy complexion; had regular features,
+and, among the other slaves, was remarkably sedate in her manners.
+There is in _Prichard’s Natural History of Man_, the head of a
+figure—on page 157—the features of which so resemble those of my
+mother, that I often recur to it with something of the feeling which I
+suppose others experience when looking upon the pictures of dear
+departed ones.
+
+Yet I cannot say that I was very deeply attached to my mother;
+certainly not so deeply as I should have been had our relations in
+childhood been different. We were separated, according to the common
+custom, when I was but an infant, and, of course, before I knew my
+mother from any one else.
+
+The germs of affection with which the Almighty, in his wisdom and
+mercy, arms the hopeless infant against the ills and vicissitudes of
+his lot, had been directed in their growth toward that loving old
+grandmother, whose gentle hand and kind deportment it was in the first
+effort of my infantile understanding to comprehend and appreciate.
+Accordingly, the tenderest affection which a beneficent Father allows,
+as a partial compensation to the mother for the pains and lacerations
+of her heart, incident to the maternal relation, was, in my case,
+diverted from its true and natural object, by the envious, greedy, and
+treacherous hand of slavery. The slave-mother can be spared long enough
+from the field to endure all the bitterness of a mother’s anguish, when
+it adds another name to a master’s ledger, but _not_ long enough to
+receive the joyous reward afforded by the intelligent smiles of her
+child. I never think of this terrible interference of slavery with my
+infantile affections, and its diverting them from their natural course,
+without feelings to which I can give no adequate expression.
+
+I do not remember to have seen my mother at my grandmother’s at any
+time. I remember her only in her visits to me at Col. Lloyd’s
+plantation, and in the kitchen of my old master. Her visits to me there
+were few in number, brief in duration, and mostly made in the night.
+The pains she took, and the toil she endured, to see me, tells me that
+a true mother’s heart was hers, and that slavery had difficulty in
+paralyzing it with unmotherly indifference.
+
+My mother was hired out to a Mr. Stewart, who lived about twelve miles
+from old master’s, and, being a field hand, she seldom had leisure, by
+day, for the performance of the journey. The nights and the distance
+were both obstacles to her visits. She was obliged to walk, unless
+chance flung into her way an opportunity to ride; and the latter was
+sometimes her good luck. But she always had to walk one way or the
+other. It was a greater luxury than slavery could afford, to allow a
+black slave-mother a horse or a mule, upon which to travel twenty-four
+miles, when she could walk the distance. Besides, it is deemed a
+foolish whim for a slave-mother to manifest concern to see her
+children, and, in one point of view, the case is made out—she can do
+nothing for them. She has no control over them; the master is even more
+than the mother, in all matters touching the fate of her child. Why,
+then, should she give herself any concern? She has no responsibility.
+Such is the reasoning, and such the practice. The iron rule of the
+plantation, always passionately and violently enforced in that
+neighborhood, makes flogging the penalty of failing to be in the field
+before sunrise in the morning, unless special permission be given to
+the absenting slave. “I went to see my child,” is no excuse to the ear
+or heart of the overseer.
+
+One of the visits of my mother to me, while at Col. Lloyd’s, I remember
+very vividly, as affording a bright gleam of a mother’s love, and the
+earnestness of a mother’s care.
+
+“I had on that day offended “Aunt Katy,” (called “Aunt” by way of
+respect,) the cook of old master’s establishment. I do not now remember
+the nature of my offense in this instance, for my offenses were
+numerous in that quarter, greatly depending, however, upon the mood of
+Aunt Katy, as to their heinousness; but she had adopted, that day, her
+favorite mode of punishing me, namely, making me go without food all
+day—that is, from after breakfast. The first hour or two after dinner,
+I succeeded pretty well in keeping up my spirits; but though I made an
+excellent stand against the foe, and fought bravely during the
+afternoon, I knew I must be conquered at last, unless I got the
+accustomed reenforcement of a slice of corn bread, at sundown. Sundown
+came, but _no bread_, and, in its stead, their came the threat, with a
+scowl well suited to its terrible import, that she “meant to _starve
+the life out of me!”_ Brandishing her knife, she chopped off the heavy
+slices for the other children, and put the loaf away, muttering, all
+the while, her savage designs upon myself. Against this disappointment,
+for I was expecting that her heart would relent at last, I made an
+extra effort to maintain my dignity; but when I saw all the other
+children around me with merry and satisfied faces, I could stand it no
+longer. I went out behind the house, and cried like a fine fellow! When
+tired of this, I returned to the kitchen, sat by the fire, and brooded
+over my hard lot. I was too hungry to sleep. While I sat in the corner,
+I caught sight of an ear of Indian corn on an upper shelf of the
+kitchen. I watched my chance, and got it, and, shelling off a few
+grains, I put it back again. The grains in my hand, I quickly put in
+some ashes, and covered them with embers, to roast them. All this I did
+at the risk of getting a brutual thumping, for Aunt Katy could beat, as
+well as starve me. My corn was not long in roasting, and, with my keen
+appetite, it did not matter even if the grains were not exactly done. I
+eagerly pulled them out, and placed them on my stool, in a clever
+little pile. Just as I began to help myself to my very dry meal, in
+came my dear mother. And now, dear reader, a scene occurred which was
+altogether worth beholding, and to me it was instructive as well as
+interesting. The friendless and hungry boy, in his extremest need—and
+when he did not dare to look for succor—found himself in the strong,
+protecting arms of a mother; a mother who was, at the moment (being
+endowed with high powers of manner as well as matter) more than a match
+for all his enemies. I shall never forget the indescribable expression
+of her countenance, when I told her that I had had no food since
+morning; and that Aunt Katy said she “meant to starve the life out of
+me.” There was pity in her glance at me, and a fiery indignation at
+Aunt Katy at the same time; and, while she took the corn from me, and
+gave me a large ginger cake, in its stead, she read Aunt Katy a lecture
+which she never forgot. My mother threatened her with complaining to
+old master in my behalf; for the latter, though harsh and cruel
+himself, at times, did not sanction the meanness, injustice, partiality
+and oppressions enacted by Aunt Katy in the kitchen. That night I
+learned the fact, that I was, not only a child, but _somebody’s_ child.
+The “sweet cake” my mother gave me was in the shape of a heart, with a
+rich, dark ring glazed upon the edge of it. I was victorious, and well
+off for the moment; prouder, on my mother’s knee, than a king upon his
+throne. But my triumph was short. I dropped off to sleep, and waked in
+the morning only to find my mother gone, and myself left at the mercy
+of the sable virago, dominant in my old master’s kitchen, whose fiery
+wrath was my constant dread.
+
+I do not remember to have seen my mother after this occurrence. Death
+soon ended the little communication that had existed between us; and
+with it, I believe, a life judging from her weary, sad, down-cast
+countenance and mute demeanor—full of heartfelt sorrow. I was not
+allowed to visit her during any part of her long illness; nor did I see
+her for a long time before she was taken ill and died. The heartless
+and ghastly form of _slavery_ rises between mother and child, even at
+the bed of death. The mother, at the verge of the grave, may not gather
+her children, to impart to them her holy admonitions, and invoke for
+them her dying benediction. The bond-woman lives as a slave, and is
+left to die as a beast; often with fewer attentions than are paid to a
+favorite horse. Scenes of sacred tenderness, around the death-bed,
+never forgotten, and which often arrest the vicious and confirm the
+virtuous during life, must be looked for among the free, though they
+sometimes occur among the slaves. It has been a life-long, standing
+grief to me, that I knew so little of my mother; and that I was so
+early separated from her. The counsels of her love must have been
+beneficial to me. The side view of her face is imaged on my memory, and
+I take few steps in life, without feeling her presence; but the image
+is mute, and I have no striking words of her’s treasured up.
+
+I learned, after my mother’s death, that she could read, and that she
+was the _only_ one of all the slaves and colored people in Tuckahoe who
+enjoyed that advantage. How she acquired this knowledge, I know not,
+for Tuckahoe is the last place in the world where she would be apt to
+find facilities for learning. I can, therefore, fondly and proudly
+ascribe to her an earnest love of knowledge. That a “field hand” should
+learn to read, in any slave state, is remarkable; but the achievement
+of my mother, considering the place, was very extraordinary; and, in
+view of that fact, I am quite willing, and even happy, to attribute any
+love of letters I possess, and for which I have got—despite of
+prejudices only too much credit, _not_ to my admitted Anglo-Saxon
+paternity, but to the native genius of my sable, unprotected, and
+uncultivated _mother_—a woman, who belonged to a race whose mental
+endowments it is, at present, fashionable to hold in disparagement and
+contempt.
+
+Summoned away to her account, with the impassable gulf of slavery
+between us during her entire illness, my mother died without leaving me
+a single intimation of _who_ my father was. There was a whisper, that
+my master was my father; yet it was only a whisper, and I cannot say
+that I ever gave it credence. Indeed, I now have reason to think he was
+not; nevertheless, the fact remains, in all its glaring odiousness,
+that, by the laws of slavery, children, in all cases, are reduced to
+the condition of their mothers. This arrangement admits of the greatest
+license to brutal slaveholders, and their profligate sons, brothers,
+relations and friends, and gives to the pleasure of sin, the additional
+attraction of profit. A whole volume might be written on this single
+feature of slavery, as I have observed it.
+
+One might imagine, that the children of such connections, would fare
+better, in the hands of their masters, than other slaves. The rule is
+quite the other way; and a very little reflection will satisfy the
+reader that such is the case. A man who will enslave his own blood, may
+not be safely relied on for magnanimity. Men do not love those who
+remind them of their sins unless they have a mind to repent—and the
+mulatto child’s face is a standing accusation against him who is master
+and father to the child. What is still worse, perhaps, such a child is
+a constant offense to the wife. She hates its very presence, and when a
+slaveholding woman hates, she wants not means to give that hate telling
+effect. Women—white women, I mean—are IDOLS at the south, not WIVES,
+for the slave women are preferred in many instances; and if these
+_idols_ but nod, or lift a finger, woe to the poor victim: kicks, cuffs
+and stripes are sure to follow. Masters are frequently compelled to
+sell this class of their slaves, out of deference to the feelings of
+their white wives; and shocking and scandalous as it may seem for a man
+to sell his own blood to the traffickers in human flesh, it is often an
+act of humanity toward the slave-child to be thus removed from his
+merciless tormentors.
+
+It is not within the scope of the design of my simple story, to comment
+upon every phase of slavery not within my experience as a slave.
+
+But, I may remark, that, if the lineal descendants of Ham are only to
+be enslaved, according to the scriptures, slavery in this country will
+soon become an unscriptural institution; for thousands are ushered into
+the world, annually, who—like myself—owe their existence to white
+fathers, and, most frequently, to their masters, and master’s sons. The
+slave-woman is at the mercy of the fathers, sons or brothers of her
+master. The thoughtful know the rest.
+
+After what I have now said of the circumstances of my mother, and my
+relations to her, the reader will not be surprised, nor be disposed to
+censure me, when I tell but the simple truth, viz: that I received the
+tidings of her death with no strong emotions of sorrow for her, and
+with very little regret for myself on account of her loss. I had to
+learn the value of my mother long after her death, and by witnessing
+the devotion of other mothers to their children.
+
+There is not, beneath the sky, an enemy to filial affection so
+destructive as slavery. It had made my brothers and sisters strangers
+to me; it converted the mother that bore me, into a myth; it shrouded
+my father in mystery, and left me without an intelligible beginning in
+the world.
+
+My mother died when I could not have been more than eight or nine years
+old, on one of old master’s farms in Tuckahoe, in the neighborhood of
+Hillsborough. Her grave is, as the grave of the dead at sea, unmarked,
+and without stone or stake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. _A General Survey of the Slave Plantation_
+
+
+ISOLATION OF LLOYD S PLANTATION—PUBLIC OPINION THERE NO PROTECTION TO
+THE SLAVE—ABSOLUTE POWER OF THE OVERSEER—NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL CHARMS
+OF THE PLACE—ITS BUSINESS-LIKE APPEARANCE—SUPERSTITION ABOUT THE BURIAL
+GROUND—GREAT IDEAS OF COL. LLOYD—ETIQUETTE AMONG SLAVES—THE COMIC SLAVE
+DOCTOR—PRAYING AND FLOGGING—OLD MASTER LOSING ITS TERRORS—HIS
+BUSINESS—CHARACTER OF AUNT KATY—SUFFERINGS FROM HUNGER—OLD MASTER’S
+HOME—JARGON OF THE PLANTATION—GUINEA SLAVES—MASTER DANIEL—FAMILY OF
+COL. LLOYD—FAMILY OF CAPT. ANTHONY—HIS SOCIAL POSITION—NOTIONS OF RANK
+AND STATION.
+
+
+It is generally supposed that slavery, in the state of Maryland, exists
+in its mildest form, and that it is totally divested of those harsh and
+terrible peculiarities, which mark and characterize the slave system,
+in the southern and south-western states of the American union. The
+argument in favor of this opinion, is the contiguity of the free
+states, and the exposed condition of slavery in Maryland to the moral,
+religious and humane sentiment of the free states.
+
+I am not about to refute this argument, so far as it relates to slavery
+in that state, generally; on the contrary, I am willing to admit that,
+to this general point, the arguments is well grounded. Public opinion
+is, indeed, an unfailing restraint upon the cruelty and barbarity of
+masters, overseers, and slave-drivers, whenever and wherever it can
+reach them; but there are certain secluded and out-of-the-way places,
+even in the state of Maryland, seldom visited by a single ray of
+healthy public sentiment—where slavery, wrapt in its own congenial,
+midnight darkness, _can_, and _does_, develop all its malign and
+shocking characteristics; where it can be indecent without shame, cruel
+without shuddering, and murderous without apprehension or fear of
+exposure.
+
+Just such a secluded, dark, and out-of-the-way place, is the “home
+plantation” of Col. Edward Lloyd, on the Eastern Shore, Maryland. It is
+far away from all the great thoroughfares, and is proximate to no town
+or village. There is neither school-house, nor town-house in its
+neighborhood. The school-house is unnecessary, for there are no
+children to go to school. The children and grand-children of Col. Lloyd
+were taught in the house, by a private tutor—a Mr. Page a tall, gaunt
+sapling of a man, who did not speak a dozen words to a slave in a whole
+year. The overseers’ children go off somewhere to school; and they,
+therefore, bring no foreign or dangerous influence from abroad, to
+embarrass the natural operation of the slave system of the place. Not
+even the mechanics—through whom there is an occasional out-burst of
+honest and telling indignation, at cruelty and wrong on other
+plantations—are white men, on this plantation. Its whole public is made
+up of, and divided into, three classes—SLAVEHOLDERS, SLAVES and
+OVERSEERS. Its blacksmiths, wheelwrights, shoemakers, weavers, and
+coopers, are slaves. Not even commerce, selfish and iron-hearted at it
+is, and ready, as it ever is, to side with the strong against the
+weak—the rich against the poor—is trusted or permitted within its
+secluded precincts. Whether with a view of guarding against the escape
+of its secrets, I know not, but it is a fact, the every leaf and grain
+of the produce of this plantation, and those of the neighboring farms
+belonging to Col. Lloyd, are transported to Baltimore in Col. Lloyd’s
+own vessels; every man and boy on board of which—except the captain—are
+owned by him. In return, everything brought to the plantation, comes
+through the same channel. Thus, even the glimmering and unsteady light
+of trade, which sometimes exerts a civilizing influence, is excluded
+from this “tabooed” spot.
+
+Nearly all the plantations or farms in the vicinity of the “home
+plantation” of Col. Lloyd, belong to him; and those which do not, are
+owned by personal friends of his, as deeply interested in maintaining
+the slave system, in all its rigor, as Col. Lloyd himself. Some of his
+neighbors are said to be even more stringent than he. The Skinners, the
+Peakers, the Tilgmans, the Lockermans, and the Gipsons, are in the same
+boat; being slaveholding neighbors, they may have strengthened each
+other in their iron rule. They are on intimate terms, and their
+interests and tastes are identical.
+
+Public opinion in such a quarter, the reader will see, is not likely to
+very efficient in protecting the slave from cruelty. On the contrary,
+it must increase and intensify his wrongs. Public opinion seldom
+differs very widely from public practice. To be a restraint upon
+cruelty and vice, public opinion must emanate from a humane and
+virtuous community. To no such humane and virtuous community, is Col.
+Lloyd’s plantation exposed. That plantation is a little nation of its
+own, having its own language, its own rules, regulations and customs.
+The laws and institutions of the state, apparently touch it nowhere.
+The troubles arising here, are not settled by the civil power of the
+state. The overseer is generally accuser, judge, jury, advocate and
+executioner. The criminal is always dumb. The overseer attends to all
+sides of a case.
+
+There are no conflicting rights of property, for all the people are
+owned by one man; and they can themselves own no property. Religion and
+politics are alike excluded. One class of the population is too high to
+be reached by the preacher; and the other class is too low to be cared
+for by the preacher. The poor have the gospel preached to them, in this
+neighborhood, only when they are able to pay for it. The slaves, having
+no money, get no gospel. The politician keeps away, because the people
+have no votes, and the preacher keeps away, because the people have no
+money. The rich planter can afford to learn politics in the parlor, and
+to dispense with religion altogether.
+
+In its isolation, seclusion, and self-reliant independence, Col.
+Lloyd’s plantation resembles what the baronial domains were during the
+middle ages in Europe. Grim, cold, and unapproachable by all genial
+influences from communities without, _there it stands;_ full three
+hundred years behind the age, in all that relates to humanity and
+morals.
+
+This, however, is not the only view that the place presents.
+Civilization is shut out, but nature cannot be. Though separated from
+the rest of the world; though public opinion, as I have said, seldom
+gets a chance to penetrate its dark domain; though the whole place is
+stamped with its own peculiar, ironlike individuality; and though
+crimes, high-handed and atrocious, may there be committed, with almost
+as much impunity as upon the deck of a pirate ship—it is, nevertheless,
+altogether, to outward seeming, a most strikingly interesting place,
+full of life, activity, and spirit; and presents a very favorable
+contrast to the indolent monotony and languor of Tuckahoe. Keen as was
+my regret and great as was my sorrow at leaving the latter, I was not
+long in adapting myself to this, my new home. A man’s troubles are
+always half disposed of, when he finds endurance his only remedy. I
+found myself here; there was no getting away; and what remained for me,
+but to make the best of it? Here were plenty of children to play with,
+and plenty of places of pleasant resort for boys of my age, and boys
+older. The little tendrils of affection, so rudely and treacherously
+broken from around the darling objects of my grandmother’s hut,
+gradually began to extend, and to entwine about the new objects by
+which I now found myself surrounded.
+
+There was a windmill (always a commanding object to a child’s eye) on
+Long Point—a tract of land dividing Miles river from the Wye a mile or
+more from my old master’s house. There was a creek to swim in, at the
+bottom of an open flat space, of twenty acres or more, called “the Long
+Green”—a very beautiful play-ground for the children.
+
+In the river, a short distance from the shore, lying quietly at anchor,
+with her small boat dancing at her stern, was a large sloop—the Sally
+Lloyd; called by that name in honor of a favorite daughter of the
+colonel. The sloop and the mill were wondrous things, full of thoughts
+and ideas. A child cannot well look at such objects without _thinking_.
+
+Then here were a great many houses; human habitations, full of the
+mysteries of life at every stage of it. There was the little red house,
+up the road, occupied by Mr. Sevier, the overseer. A little nearer to
+my old master’s, stood a very long, rough, low building, literally
+alive with slaves, of all ages, conditions and sizes. This was called
+“the Longe Quarter.” Perched upon a hill, across the Long Green, was a
+very tall, dilapidated, old brick building—the architectural dimensions
+of which proclaimed its erection for a different purpose—now occupied
+by slaves, in a similar manner to the Long Quarter. Besides these,
+there were numerous other slave houses and huts, scattered around in
+the neighborhood, every nook and corner of which was completely
+occupied. Old master’s house, a long, brick building, plain, but
+substantial, stood in the center of the plantation life, and
+constituted one independent establishment on the premises of Col.
+Lloyd.
+
+Besides these dwellings, there were barns, stables, store-houses, and
+tobacco-houses; blacksmiths’ shops, wheelwrights’ shops, coopers’
+shops—all objects of interest; but, above all, there stood the grandest
+building my eyes had then ever beheld, called, by every one on the
+plantation, the “Great House.” This was occupied by Col. Lloyd and his
+family. They occupied it; _I_ enjoyed it. The great house was
+surrounded by numerous and variously shaped out-buildings. There were
+kitchens, wash-houses, dairies, summer-house, green-houses, hen-houses,
+turkey-houses, pigeon-houses, and arbors, of many sizes and devices,
+all neatly painted, and altogether interspersed with grand old trees,
+ornamental and primitive, which afforded delightful shade in summer,
+and imparted to the scene a high degree of stately beauty. The great
+house itself was a large, white, wooden building, with wings on three
+sides of it. In front, a large portico, extending the entire length of
+the building, and supported by a long range of columns, gave to the
+whole establishment an air of solemn grandeur. It was a treat to my
+young and gradually opening mind, to behold this elaborate exhibition
+of wealth, power, and vanity. The carriage entrance to the house was a
+large gate, more than a quarter of a mile distant from it; the
+intermediate space was a beautiful lawn, very neatly trimmed, and
+watched with the greatest care. It was dotted thickly over with
+delightful trees, shrubbery, and flowers. The road, or lane, from the
+gate to the great house, was richly paved with white pebbles from the
+beach, and, in its course, formed a complete circle around the
+beautiful lawn. Carriages going in and retiring from the great house,
+made the circuit of the lawn, and their passengers were permitted to
+behold a scene of almost Eden-like beauty. Outside this select
+inclosure, were parks, where as about the residences of the English
+nobility—rabbits, deer, and other wild game, might be seen, peering and
+playing about, with none to molest them or make them afraid. The tops
+of the stately poplars were often covered with the red-winged
+black-birds, making all nature vocal with the joyous life and beauty of
+their wild, warbling notes. These all belonged to me, as well as to
+Col. Edward Lloyd, and for a time I greatly enjoyed them.
+
+A short distance from the great house, were the stately mansions of the
+dead, a place of somber aspect. Vast tombs, embowered beneath the
+weeping willow and the fir tree, told of the antiquities of the Lloyd
+family, as well as of their wealth. Superstition was rife among the
+slaves about this family burying ground. Strange sights had been seen
+there by some of the older slaves. Shrouded ghosts, riding on great
+black horses, had been seen to enter; balls of fire had been seen to
+fly there at midnight, and horrid sounds had been repeatedly heard.
+Slaves know enough of the rudiments of theology to believe that those
+go to hell who die slaveholders; and they often fancy such persons
+wishing themselves back again, to wield the lash. Tales of sights and
+sounds, strange and terrible, connected with the huge black tombs, were
+a very great security to the grounds about them, for few of the slaves
+felt like approaching them even in the day time. It was a dark, gloomy
+and forbidding place, and it was difficult to feel that the spirits of
+the sleeping dust there deposited, reigned with the blest in the realms
+of eternal peace.
+
+The business of twenty or thirty farms was transacted at this, called,
+by way of eminence, “great house farm.” These farms all belonged to
+Col. Lloyd, as did, also, the slaves upon them. Each farm was under the
+management of an overseer. As I have said of the overseer of the home
+plantation, so I may say of the overseers on the smaller ones; they
+stand between the slave and all civil constitutions—their word is law,
+and is implicitly obeyed.
+
+The colonel, at this time, was reputed to be, and he apparently was,
+very rich. His slaves, alone, were an immense fortune. These, small and
+great, could not have been fewer than one thousand in number, and
+though scarcely a month passed without the sale of one or more lots to
+the Georgia traders, there was no apparent diminution in the number of
+his human stock: the home plantation merely groaned at a removal of the
+young increase, or human crop, then proceeded as lively as ever.
+Horse-shoeing, cart-mending, plow-repairing, coopering, grinding, and
+weaving, for all the neighboring farms, were performed here, and slaves
+were employed in all these branches. “Uncle Tony” was the blacksmith;
+“Uncle Harry” was the cartwright; “Uncle Abel” was the shoemaker; and
+all these had hands to assist them in their several departments.
+
+These mechanics were called “uncles” by all the younger slaves, not
+because they really sustained that relationship to any, but according
+to plantation _etiquette_, as a mark of respect, due from the younger
+to the older slaves. Strange, and even ridiculous as it may seem, among
+a people so uncultivated, and with so many stern trials to look in the
+face, there is not to be found, among any people, a more rigid
+enforcement of the law of respect to elders, than they maintain. I set
+this down as partly constitutional with my race, and partly
+conventional. There is no better material in the world for making a
+gentleman, than is furnished in the African. He shows to others, and
+exacts for himself, all the tokens of respect which he is compelled to
+manifest toward his master. A young slave must approach the company of
+the older with hat in hand, and woe betide him, if he fails to
+acknowledge a favor, of any sort, with the accustomed _“tank’ee,”_ &c.
+So uniformly are good manners enforced among slaves, I can easily
+detect a “bogus” fugitive by his manners.
+
+Among other slave notabilities of the plantation, was one called by
+everybody Uncle Isaac Copper. It is seldom that a slave gets a surname
+from anybody in Maryland; and so completely has the south shaped the
+manners of the north, in this respect, that even abolitionists make
+very little of the surname of a Negro. The only improvement on the
+“Bills,” “Jacks,” “Jims,” and “Neds” of the south, observable here is,
+that “William,” “John,” “James,” “Edward,” are substituted. It goes
+against the grain to treat and address a Negro precisely as they would
+treat and address a white man. But, once in a while, in slavery as in
+the free states, by some extraordinary circumstance, the Negro has a
+surname fastened to him, and holds it against all conventionalities.
+This was the case with Uncle Isaac Copper. When the “uncle” was
+dropped, he generally had the prefix “doctor,” in its stead. He was our
+doctor of medicine, and doctor of divinity as well. Where he took his
+degree I am unable to say, for he was not very communicative to
+inferiors, and I was emphatically such, being but a boy seven or eight
+years old. He was too well established in his profession to permit
+questions as to his native skill, or his attainments. One qualification
+he undoubtedly had—he was a confirmed _cripple;_ and he could neither
+work, nor would he bring anything if offered for sale in the market.
+The old man, though lame, was no sluggard. He was a man that made his
+crutches do him good service. He was always on the alert, looking up
+the sick, and all such as were supposed to need his counsel. His
+remedial prescriptions embraced four articles. For diseases of the
+body, _Epsom salts and castor oil;_ for those of the soul, _the Lord’s
+Prayer_, and _hickory switches_!
+
+I was not long at Col. Lloyd’s before I was placed under the care of
+Doctor Issac Copper. I was sent to him with twenty or thirty other
+children, to learn the “Lord’s Prayer.” I found the old gentleman
+seated on a huge three-legged oaken stool, armed with several large
+hickory switches; and, from his position, he could reach—lame as he
+was—any boy in the room. After standing awhile to learn what was
+expected of us, the old gentleman, in any other than a devotional tone,
+commanded us to kneel down. This done, he commenced telling us to say
+everything he said. “Our Father”—this was repeated after him with
+promptness and uniformity; “Who art in heaven”—was less promptly and
+uniformly repeated; and the old gentleman paused in the prayer, to give
+us a short lecture upon the consequences of inattention, both immediate
+and future, and especially those more immediate. About these he was
+absolutely certain, for he held in his right hand the means of bringing
+all his predictions and warnings to pass. On he proceeded with the
+prayer; and we with our thick tongues and unskilled ears, followed him
+to the best of our ability. This, however, was not sufficient to please
+the old gentleman. Everybody, in the south, wants the privilege of
+whipping somebody else. Uncle Isaac shared the common passion of his
+country, and, therefore, seldom found any means of keeping his
+disciples in order short of flogging. “Say everything I say;” and bang
+would come the switch on some poor boy’s undevotional head. _“What you
+looking at there”—“Stop that pushing”_—and down again would come the
+lash.
+
+The whip is all in all. It is supposed to secure obedience to the
+slaveholder, and is held as a sovereign remedy among the slaves
+themselves, for every form of disobedience, temporal or spiritual.
+Slaves, as well as slaveholders, use it with an unsparing hand. Our
+devotions at Uncle Isaac’s combined too much of the tragic and comic,
+to make them very salutary in a spiritual point of view; and it is due
+to truth to say, I was often a truant when the time for attending the
+praying and flogging of Doctor Isaac Copper came on.
+
+The windmill under the care of Mr. Kinney, a kind hearted old
+Englishman, was to me a source of infinite interest and pleasure. The
+old man always seemed pleased when he saw a troop of darkey little
+urchins, with their tow-linen shirts fluttering in the breeze,
+approaching to view and admire the whirling wings of his wondrous
+machine. From the mill we could see other objects of deep interest.
+These were, the vessels from St. Michael’s, on their way to Baltimore.
+It was a source of much amusement to view the flowing sails and
+complicated rigging, as the little crafts dashed by, and to speculate
+upon Baltimore, as to the kind and quality of the place. With so many
+sources of interest around me, the reader may be prepared to learn that
+I began to think very highly of Col. L.‘s plantation. It was just a
+place to my boyish taste. There were fish to be caught in the creek, if
+one only had a hook and line; and crabs, clams and oysters were to be
+caught by wading, digging and raking for them. Here was a field for
+industry and enterprise, strongly inviting; and the reader may be
+assured that I entered upon it with spirit.
+
+Even the much dreaded old master, whose merciless fiat had brought me
+from Tuckahoe, gradually, to my mind, parted with his terrors. Strange
+enough, his reverence seemed to take no particular notice of me, nor of
+my coming. Instead of leaping out and devouring me, he scarcely seemed
+conscious of my presence. The fact is, he was occupied with matters
+more weighty and important than either looking after or vexing me. He
+probably thought as little of my advent, as he would have thought of
+the addition of a single pig to his stock!
+
+As the chief butler on Col. Lloyd’s plantation, his duties were
+numerous and perplexing. In almost all important matters he answered in
+Col. Lloyd’s stead. The overseers of all the farms were in some sort
+under him, and received the law from his mouth. The colonel himself
+seldom addressed an overseer, or allowed an overseer to address him.
+Old master carried the keys of all store houses; measured out the
+allowance for each slave at the end of every month; superintended the
+storing of all goods brought to the plantation; dealt out the raw
+material to all the handicraftsmen; shipped the grain, tobacco, and all
+saleable produce of the plantation to market, and had the general
+oversight of the coopers’ shop, wheelwrights’ shop, blacksmiths’ shop,
+and shoemakers’ shop. Besides the care of these, he often had business
+for the plantation which required him to be absent two and three days.
+
+Thus largely employed, he had little time, and perhaps as little
+disposition, to interfere with the children individually. What he was
+to Col. Lloyd, he made Aunt Katy to him. When he had anything to say or
+do about us, it was said or done in a wholesale manner; disposing of us
+in classes or sizes, leaving all minor details to Aunt Katy, a person
+of whom the reader has already received no very favorable impression.
+Aunt Katy was a woman who never allowed herself to act greatly within
+the margin of power granted to her, no matter how broad that authority
+might be. Ambitious, ill-tempered and cruel, she found in her present
+position an ample field for the exercise of her ill-omened qualities.
+She had a strong hold on old master she was considered a first rate
+cook, and she really was very industrious. She was, therefore, greatly
+favored by old master, and as one mark of his favor, she was the only
+mother who was permitted to retain her children around her. Even to
+these children she was often fiendish in her brutality. She pursued her
+son Phil, one day, in my presence, with a huge butcher knife, and dealt
+a blow with its edge which left a shocking gash on his arm, near the
+wrist. For this, old master did sharply rebuke her, and threatened that
+if she ever should do the like again, he would take the skin off her
+back. Cruel, however, as Aunt Katy was to her own children, at times
+she was not destitute of maternal feeling, as I often had occasion to
+know, in the bitter pinches of hunger I had to endure. Differing from
+the practice of Col. Lloyd, old master, instead of allowing so much for
+each slave, committed the allowance for all to the care of Aunt Katy,
+to be divided after cooking it, amongst us. The allowance, consisting
+of coarse corn-meal, was not very abundant—indeed, it was very slender;
+and in passing through Aunt Katy’s hands, it was made more slender
+still, for some of us. William, Phil and Jerry were her children, and
+it is not to accuse her too severely, to allege that she was often
+guilty of starving myself and the other children, while she was
+literally cramming her own. Want of food was my chief trouble the first
+summer at my old master’s. Oysters and clams would do very well, with
+an occasional supply of bread, but they soon failed in the absence of
+bread. I speak but the simple truth, when I say, I have often been so
+pinched with hunger, that I have fought with the dog—“Old Nep”—for the
+smallest crumbs that fell from the kitchen table, and have been glad
+when I won a single crumb in the combat. Many times have I followed,
+with eager step, the waiting-girl when she went out to shake the table
+cloth, to get the crumbs and small bones flung out for the cats. The
+water, in which meat had been boiled, was as eagerly sought for by me.
+It was a great thing to get the privilege of dipping a piece of bread
+in such water; and the skin taken from rusty bacon, was a positive
+luxury. Nevertheless, I sometimes got full meals and kind words from
+sympathizing old slaves, who knew my sufferings, and received the
+comforting assurance that I should be a man some day. “Never mind,
+honey—better day comin’,” was even then a solace, a cheering
+consolation to me in my troubles. Nor were all the kind words I
+received from slaves. I had a friend in the parlor, as well, and one to
+whom I shall be glad to do justice, before I have finished this part of
+my story.
+
+I was not long at old master’s, before I learned that his surname was
+Anthony, and that he was generally called “Captain Anthony”—a title
+which he probably acquired by sailing a craft in the Chesapeake Bay.
+Col. Lloyd’s slaves never called Capt. Anthony “old master,” but always
+Capt. Anthony; and _me_ they called “Captain Anthony Fred.” There is
+not, probably, in the whole south, a plantation where the English
+language is more imperfectly spoken than on Col. Lloyd’s. It is a
+mixture of Guinea and everything else you please. At the time of which
+I am now writing, there were slaves there who had been brought from the
+coast of Africa. They never used the “s” in indication of the
+possessive case. “Cap’n Ant’ney Tom,” “Lloyd Bill,” “Aunt Rose Harry,”
+means “Captain Anthony’s Tom,” “Lloyd’s Bill,” &c. _“Oo you dem long
+to?”_ means, “Whom do you belong to?” _“Oo dem got any peachy?”_ means,
+“Have you got any peaches?” I could scarcely understand them when I
+first went among them, so broken was their speech; and I am persuaded
+that I could not have been dropped anywhere on the globe, where I could
+reap less, in the way of knowledge, from my immediate associates, than
+on this plantation. Even “MAS’ DANIEL,” by his association with his
+father’s slaves, had measurably adopted their dialect and their ideas,
+so far as they had ideas to be adopted. The equality of nature is
+strongly asserted in childhood, and childhood requires children for
+associates. _Color_ makes no difference with a child. Are you a child
+with wants, tastes and pursuits common to children, not put on, but
+natural? then, were you black as ebony you would be welcome to the
+child of alabaster whiteness. The law of compensation holds here, as
+well as elsewhere. Mas’ Daniel could not associate with ignorance
+without sharing its shade; and he could not give his black playmates
+his company, without giving them his intelligence, as well. Without
+knowing this, or caring about it, at the time, I, for some cause or
+other, spent much of my time with Mas’ Daniel, in preference to
+spending it with most of the other boys.
+
+Mas’ Daniel was the youngest son of Col. Lloyd; his older brothers were
+Edward and Murray—both grown up, and fine looking men. Edward was
+especially esteemed by the children, and by me among the rest; not that
+he ever said anything to us or for us, which could be called especially
+kind; it was enough for us, that he never looked nor acted scornfully
+toward us. There were also three sisters, all married; one to Edward
+Winder; a second to Edward Nicholson; a third to Mr. Lownes.
+
+The family of old master consisted of two sons, Andrew and Richard; his
+daughter, Lucretia, and her newly married husband, Capt. Auld. This was
+the house family. The kitchen family consisted of Aunt Katy, Aunt
+Esther, and ten or a dozen children, most of them older than myself.
+Capt. Anthony was not considered a rich slaveholder, but was pretty
+well off in the world. He owned about thirty _“head”_ of slaves, and
+three farms in Tuckahoe. The most valuable part of his property was his
+slaves, of whom he could afford to sell one every year. This crop,
+therefore, brought him seven or eight hundred dollars a year, besides
+his yearly salary, and other revenue from his farms.
+
+The idea of rank and station was rigidly maintained on Col. Lloyd’s
+plantation. Our family never visited the great house, and the Lloyds
+never came to our home. Equal non-intercourse was observed between
+Capt. Anthony’s family and that of Mr. Sevier, the overseer.
+
+Such, kind reader, was the community, and such the place, in which my
+earliest and most lasting impressions of slavery, and of slave-life,
+were received; of which impressions you will learn more in the coming
+chapters of this book.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. _Gradual Initiation to the Mysteries of Slavery_
+
+
+GROWING ACQUAINTANCE WITH OLD MASTER—HIS CHARACTER—EVILS OF
+UNRESTRAINED PASSION—APPARENT TENDERNESS—OLD MASTER A MAN OF
+TROUBLE—CUSTOM OF MUTTERING TO HIMSELF—NECESSITY OF BEING AWARE OF HIS
+WORDS—THE SUPPOSED OBTUSENESS OF SLAVE-CHILDREN—BRUTAL OUTRAGE—DRUNKEN
+OVERSEER—SLAVEHOLDER’S IMPATIENCE—WISDOM OF APPEALING TO SUPERIORS—THE
+SLAVEHOLDER S WRATH BAD AS THAT OF THE OVERSEER—A BASE AND SELFISH
+ATTEMPT TO BREAK UP A COURTSHIP—A HARROWING SCENE.
+
+
+Although my old master—Capt. Anthony—gave me at first, (as the reader
+will have already seen) very little attention, and although that little
+was of a remarkably mild and gentle description, a few months only were
+sufficient to convince me that mildness and gentleness were not the
+prevailing or governing traits of his character. These excellent
+qualities were displayed only occasionally. He could, when it suited
+him, appear to be literally insensible to the claims of humanity, when
+appealed to by the helpless against an aggressor, and he could himself
+commit outrages, deep, dark and nameless. Yet he was not by nature
+worse than other men. Had he been brought up in a free state,
+surrounded by the just restraints of free society—restraints which are
+necessary to the freedom of all its members, alike and equally—Capt.
+Anthony might have been as humane a man, and every way as respectable,
+as many who now oppose the slave system; certainly as humane and
+respectable as are members of society generally. The slaveholder, as
+well as the slave, is the victim of the slave system. A man’s character
+greatly takes its hue and shape from the form and color of things about
+him. Under the whole heavens there is no relation more unfavorable to
+the development of honorable character, than that sustained by the
+slaveholder to the slave. Reason is imprisoned here, and passions run
+wild. Like the fires of the prairie, once lighted, they are at the
+mercy of every wind, and must burn, till they have consumed all that is
+combustible within their remorseless grasp. Capt. Anthony could be
+kind, and, at times, he even showed an affectionate disposition. Could
+the reader have seen him gently leading me by the hand—as he sometimes
+did—patting me on the head, speaking to me in soft, caressing tones and
+calling me his “little Indian boy,” he would have deemed him a kind old
+man, and really, almost fatherly. But the pleasant moods of a
+slaveholder are remarkably brittle; they are easily snapped; they
+neither come often, nor remain long. His temper is subjected to
+perpetual trials; but, since these trials are never borne patiently,
+they add nothing to his natural stock of patience.
+
+Old master very early impressed me with the idea that he was an unhappy
+man. Even to my child’s eye, he wore a troubled, and at times, a
+haggard aspect. His strange movements excited my curiosity, and
+awakened my compassion. He seldom walked alone without muttering to
+himself; and he occasionally stormed about, as if defying an army of
+invisible foes. “He would do this, that, and the other; he’d be d—d if
+he did not,”—was the usual form of his threats. Most of his leisure was
+spent in walking, cursing and gesticulating, like one possessed by a
+demon. Most evidently, he was a wretched man, at war with his own soul,
+and with all the world around him. To be overheard by the children,
+disturbed him very little. He made no more of our presence, than of
+that of the ducks and geese which he met on the green. He little
+thought that the little black urchins around him, could see, through
+those vocal crevices, the very secrets of his heart. Slaveholders ever
+underrate the intelligence with which they have to grapple. I really
+understood the old man’s mutterings, attitudes and gestures, about as
+well as he did himself. But slaveholders never encourage that kind of
+communication, with the slaves, by which they might learn to measure
+the depths of his knowledge. Ignorance is a high virtue in a human
+chattel; and as the master studies to keep the slave ignorant, the
+slave is cunning enough to make the master think he succeeds. The slave
+fully appreciates the saying, “where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to
+be wise.” When old master’s gestures were violent, ending with a
+threatening shake of the head, and a sharp snap of his middle finger
+and thumb, I deemed it wise to keep at a respectable distance from him;
+for, at such times, trifling faults stood, in his eyes, as momentous
+offenses; and, having both the power and the disposition, the victim
+had only to be near him to catch the punishment, deserved or
+undeserved.
+
+One of the first circumstances that opened my eyes to the cruelty and
+wickedness of slavery, and the heartlessness of my old master, was the
+refusal of the latter to interpose his authority, to protect and shield
+a young woman, who had been most cruelly abused and beaten by his
+overseer in Tuckahoe. This overseer—a Mr. Plummer—was a man like most
+of his class, little better than a human brute; and, in addition to his
+general profligacy and repulsive coarseness, the creature was a
+miserable drunkard. He was, probably, employed by my old master, less
+on account of the excellence of his services, than for the cheap rate
+at which they could be obtained. He was not fit to have the management
+of a drove of mules. In a fit of drunken madness, he committed the
+outrage which brought the young woman in question down to my old
+master’s for protection. This young woman was the daughter of Milly, an
+own aunt of mine. The poor girl, on arriving at our house, presented a
+pitiable appearance. She had left in haste, and without preparation;
+and, probably, without the knowledge of Mr. Plummer. She had traveled
+twelve miles, bare-footed, bare-necked and bare-headed. Her neck and
+shoulders were covered with scars, newly made; and not content with
+marring her neck and shoulders, with the cowhide, the cowardly brute
+had dealt her a blow on the head with a hickory club, which cut a
+horrible gash, and left her face literally covered with blood. In this
+condition, the poor young woman came down, to implore protection at the
+hands of my old master. I expected to see him boil over with rage at
+the revolting deed, and to hear him fill the air with curses upon the
+brutual Plummer; but I was disappointed. He sternly told her, in an
+angry tone, he “believed she deserved every bit of it,” and, if she did
+not go home instantly, he would himself take the remaining skin from
+her neck and back. Thus was the poor girl compelled to return, without
+redress, and perhaps to receive an additional flogging for daring to
+appeal to old master against the overseer.
+
+Old master seemed furious at the thought of being troubled by such
+complaints. I did not, at that time, understand the philosophy of his
+treatment of my cousin. It was stern, unnatural, violent. Had the man
+no bowels of compassion? Was he dead to all sense of humanity? No. I
+think I now understand it. This treatment is a part of the system,
+rather than a part of the man. Were slaveholders to listen to
+complaints of this sort against the overseers, the luxury of owning
+large numbers of slaves, would be impossible. It would do away with the
+office of overseer, entirely; or, in other words, it would convert the
+master himself into an overseer. It would occasion great loss of time
+and labor, leaving the overseer in fetters, and without the necessary
+power to secure obedience to his orders. A privilege so dangerous as
+that of appeal, is, therefore, strictly prohibited; and any one
+exercising it, runs a fearful hazard. Nevertheless, when a slave has
+nerve enough to exercise it, and boldly approaches his master, with a
+well-founded complaint against an overseer, though he may be repulsed,
+and may even have that of which he complains repeated at the time, and,
+though he may be beaten by his master, as well as by the overseer, for
+his temerity, in the end the policy of complaining is, generally,
+vindicated by the relaxed rigor of the overseer’s treatment. The latter
+becomes more careful, and less disposed to use the lash upon such
+slaves thereafter. It is with this final result in view, rather than
+with any expectation of immediate good, that the outraged slave is
+induced to meet his master with a complaint. The overseer very
+naturally dislikes to have the ear of the master disturbed by
+complaints; and, either upon this consideration, or upon advice and
+warning privately given him by his employers, he generally modifies the
+rigor of his rule, after an outbreak of the kind to which I have been
+referring.
+
+Howsoever the slaveholder may allow himself to act toward his slave,
+and, whatever cruelty he may deem it wise, for example’s sake, or for
+the gratification of his humor, to inflict, he cannot, in the absence
+of all provocation, look with pleasure upon the bleeding wounds of a
+defenseless slave-woman. When he drives her from his presence without
+redress, or the hope of redress, he acts, generally, from motives of
+policy, rather than from a hardened nature, or from innate brutality.
+Yet, let but his own temper be stirred, his own passions get loose, and
+the slave-owner will go _far beyond_ the overseer in cruelty. He will
+convince the slave that his wrath is far more terrible and boundless,
+and vastly more to be dreaded, than that of the underling overseer.
+What may have been mechanically and heartlessly done by the overseer,
+is now done with a will. The man who now wields the lash is
+irresponsible. He may, if he pleases, cripple or kill, without fear of
+consequences; except in so far as it may concern profit or loss. To a
+man of violent temper—as my old master was—this was but a very slender
+and inefficient restraint. I have seen him in a tempest of passion,
+such as I have just described—a passion into which entered all the
+bitter ingredients of pride, hatred, envy, jealousy, and the
+thrist(sic) for revenge.
+
+The circumstances which I am about to narrate, and which gave rise to
+this fearful tempest of passion, are not singular nor isolated in slave
+life, but are common in every slaveholding community in which I have
+lived. They are incidental to the relation of master and slave, and
+exist in all sections of slave-holding countries.
+
+The reader will have noticed that, in enumerating the names of the
+slaves who lived with my old master, _Esther_ is mentioned. This was a
+young woman who possessed that which is ever a curse to the slave-girl;
+namely—personal beauty. She was tall, well formed, and made a fine
+appearance. The daughters of Col. Lloyd could scarcely surpass her in
+personal charms. Esther was courted by Ned Roberts, and he was as fine
+looking a young man, as she was a woman. He was the son of a favorite
+slave of Col. Lloyd. Some slaveholders would have been glad to promote
+the marriage of two such persons; but, for some reason or other, my old
+master took it upon him to break up the growing intimacy between Esther
+and Edward. He strictly ordered her to quit the company of said
+Roberts, telling her that he would punish her severely if he ever found
+her again in Edward’s company. This unnatural and heartless order was,
+of course, broken. A woman’s love is not to be annihilated by the
+peremptory command of any one, whose breath is in his nostrils. It was
+impossible to keep Edward and Esther apart. Meet they would, and meet
+they did. Had old master been a man of honor and purity, his motives,
+in this matter, might have been viewed more favorably. As it was, his
+motives were as abhorrent, as his methods were foolish and
+contemptible. It was too evident that he was not concerned for the
+girl’s welfare. It is one of the damning characteristics of the slave
+system, that it robs its victims of every earthly incentive to a holy
+life. The fear of God, and the hope of heaven, are found sufficient to
+sustain many slave-women, amidst the snares and dangers of their
+strange lot; but, this side of God and heaven, a slave-woman is at the
+mercy of the power, caprice and passion of her owner. Slavery provides
+no means for the honorable continuance of the race. Marriage as
+imposing obligations on the parties to it—has no existence here, except
+in such hearts as are purer and higher than the standard morality
+around them. It is one of the consolations of my life, that I know of
+many honorable instances of persons who maintained their honor, where
+all around was corrupt.
+
+Esther was evidently much attached to Edward, and abhorred—as she had
+reason to do—the tyrannical and base behavior of old master. Edward was
+young, and fine looking, and he loved and courted her. He might have
+been her husband, in the high sense just alluded to; but WHO and _what_
+was this old master? His attentions were plainly brutal and selfish,
+and it was as natural that Esther should loathe him, as that she should
+love Edward. Abhorred and circumvented as he was, old master, having
+the power, very easily took revenge. I happened to see this exhibition
+of his rage and cruelty toward Esther. The time selected was singular.
+It was early in the morning, when all besides was still, and before any
+of the family, in the house or kitchen, had left their beds. I saw but
+few of the shocking preliminaries, for the cruel work had begun before
+I awoke. I was probably awakened by the shrieks and piteous cries of
+poor Esther. My sleeping place was on the floor of a little, rough
+closet, which opened into the kitchen; and through the cracks of its
+unplaned boards, I could distinctly see and hear what was going on,
+without being seen by old master. Esther’s wrists were firmly tied, and
+the twisted rope was fastened to a strong staple in a heavy wooden
+joist above, near the fireplace. Here she stood, on a bench, her arms
+tightly drawn over her breast. Her back and shoulders were bare to the
+waist. Behind her stood old master, with cowskin in hand, preparing his
+barbarous work with all manner of harsh, coarse, and tantalizing
+epithets. The screams of his victim were most piercing. He was cruelly
+deliberate, and protracted the torture, as one who was delighted with
+the scene. Again and again he drew the hateful whip through his hand,
+adjusting it with a view of dealing the most pain-giving blow. Poor
+Esther had never yet been severely whipped, and her shoulders were
+plump and tender. Each blow, vigorously laid on, brought screams as
+well as blood. _“Have mercy; Oh! have mercy”_ she cried; “_I won’t do
+so no more;”_ but her piercing cries seemed only to increase his fury.
+His answers to them are too coarse and blasphemous to be produced here.
+The whole scene, with all its attendants, was revolting and shocking,
+to the last degree; and when the motives of this brutal castigation are
+considered,—language has no power to convey a just sense of its awful
+criminality. After laying on some thirty or forty stripes, old master
+untied his suffering victim, and let her get down. She could scarcely
+stand, when untied. From my heart I pitied her, and—child though I
+was—the outrage kindled in me a feeling far from peaceful; but I was
+hushed, terrified, stunned, and could do nothing, and the fate of
+Esther might be mine next. The scene here described was often repeated
+in the case of poor Esther, and her life, as I knew it, was one of
+wretchedness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. _Treatment of Slaves on Lloyd’s Plantation_
+
+
+EARLY REFLECTIONS ON SLAVERY—PRESENTIMENT OF ONE DAY BEING A
+FREEMAN—COMBAT BETWEEN AN OVERSEER AND A SLAVEWOMAN—THE ADVANTAGES OF
+RESISTANCE—ALLOWANCE DAY ON THE HOME PLANTATION—THE SINGING OF
+SLAVES—AN EXPLANATION—THE SLAVES FOOD AND CLOTHING—NAKED CHILDREN—LIFE
+IN THE QUARTER—DEPRIVATION OF SLEEP—NURSING CHILDREN CARRIED TO THE
+FIELD—DESCRIPTION OF THE COWSKIN—THE ASH-CAKE—MANNER OF MAKING IT—THE
+DINNER HOUR—THE CONTRAST.
+
+
+The heart-rending incidents, related in the foregoing chapter, led me,
+thus early, to inquire into the nature and history of slavery. _Why am
+I a slave? Why are some people slaves, and others masters? Was there
+ever a time this was not so? How did the relation commence?_ These were
+the perplexing questions which began now to claim my thoughts, and to
+exercise the weak powers of my mind, for I was still but a child, and
+knew less than children of the same age in the free states. As my
+questions concerning these things were only put to children a little
+older, and little better informed than myself, I was not rapid in
+reaching a solid footing. By some means I learned from these inquiries
+that _“God, up in the sky,”_ made every body; and that he made _white_
+people to be masters and mistresses, and _black_ people to be slaves.
+This did not satisfy me, nor lessen my interest in the subject. I was
+told, too, that God was good, and that He knew what was best for me,
+and best for everybody. This was less satisfactory than the first
+statement; because it came, point blank, against all my notions of
+goodness. It was not good to let old master cut the flesh off Esther,
+and make her cry so. Besides, how did people know that God made black
+people to be slaves? Did they go up in the sky and learn it? or, did He
+come down and tell them so? All was dark here. It was some relief to my
+hard notions of the goodness of God, that, although he made white men
+to be slaveholders, he did not make them to be _bad_ slaveholders, and
+that, in due time, he would punish the bad slaveholders; that he would,
+when they died, send them to the bad place, where they would be “burnt
+up.” Nevertheless, I could not reconcile the relation of slavery with
+my crude notions of goodness.
+
+Then, too, I found that there were puzzling exceptions to this theory
+of slavery on both sides, and in the middle. I knew of blacks who were
+_not_ slaves; I knew of whites who were _not_ slaveholders; and I knew
+of persons who were _nearly_ white, who were slaves. _Color_,
+therefore, was a very unsatisfactory basis for slavery.
+
+Once, however, engaged in the inquiry, I was not very long in finding
+out the true solution of the matter. It was not _color_, but _crime_,
+not _God_, but _man_, that afforded the true explanation of the
+existence of slavery; nor was I long in finding out another important
+truth, viz: what man can make, man can unmake. The appalling darkness
+faded away, and I was master of the subject. There were slaves here,
+direct from Guinea; and there were many who could say that their
+fathers and mothers were stolen from Africa—forced from their homes,
+and compelled to serve as slaves. This, to me, was knowledge; but it
+was a kind of knowledge which filled me with a burning hatred of
+slavery, increased my suffering, and left me without the means of
+breaking away from my bondage. Yet it was knowledge quite worth
+possessing. I could not have been more than seven or eight years old,
+when I began to make this subject my study. It was with me in the woods
+and fields; along the shore of the river, and wherever my boyish
+wanderings led me; and though I was, at that time, quite ignorant of
+the existence of the free states, I distinctly remember being, _even
+then_, most strongly impressed with the idea of being a freeman some
+day. This cheering assurance was an inborn dream of my human nature a
+constant menace to slavery—and one which all the powers of slavery were
+unable to silence or extinguish.
+
+Up to the time of the brutal flogging of my Aunt Esther—for she was my
+own aunt—and the horrid plight in which I had seen my cousin from
+Tuckahoe, who had been so badly beaten by the cruel Mr. Plummer, my
+attention had not been called, especially, to the gross features of
+slavery. I had, of course, heard of whippings and of savage
+_rencontres_ between overseers and slaves, but I had always been out of
+the way at the times and places of their occurrence. My plays and
+sports, most of the time, took me from the corn and tobacco fields,
+where the great body of the hands were at work, and where scenes of
+cruelty were enacted and witnessed. But, after the whipping of Aunt
+Esther, I saw many cases of the same shocking nature, not only in my
+master’s house, but on Col. Lloyd’s plantation. One of the first which
+I saw, and which greatly agitated me, was the whipping of a woman
+belonging to Col. Lloyd, named Nelly. The offense alleged against
+Nelly, was one of the commonest and most indefinite in the whole
+catalogue of offenses usually laid to the charge of slaves, viz:
+“impudence.” This may mean almost anything, or nothing at all, just
+according to the caprice of the master or overseer, at the moment. But,
+whatever it is, or is not, if it gets the name of “impudence,” the
+party charged with it is sure of a flogging. This offense may be
+committed in various ways; in the tone of an answer; in answering at
+all; in not answering; in the expression of countenance; in the motion
+of the head; in the gait, manner and bearing of the slave. In the case
+under consideration, I can easily believe that, according to all
+slaveholding standards, here was a genuine instance of impudence. In
+Nelly there were all the necessary conditions for committing the
+offense. She was a bright mulatto, the recognized wife of a favorite
+“hand” on board Col. Lloyd’s sloop, and the mother of five sprightly
+children. She was a vigorous and spirited woman, and one of the most
+likely, on the plantation, to be guilty of impudence. My attention was
+called to the scene, by the noise, curses and screams that proceeded
+from it; and, on going a little in that direction, I came upon the
+parties engaged in the skirmish. Mr. Siever, the overseer, had hold of
+Nelly, when I caught sight of them; he was endeavoring to drag her
+toward a tree, which endeavor Nelly was sternly resisting; but to no
+purpose, except to retard the progress of the overseer’s plans.
+Nelly—as I have said—was the mother of five children; three of them
+were present, and though quite small (from seven to ten years old, I
+should think) they gallantly came to their mother’s defense, and gave
+the overseer an excellent pelting with stones. One of the little
+fellows ran up, seized the overseer by the leg and bit him; but the
+monster was too busily engaged with Nelly, to pay any attention to the
+assaults of the children. There were numerous bloody marks on Mr.
+Sevier’s face, when I first saw him, and they increased as the struggle
+went on. The imprints of Nelly’s fingers were visible, and I was glad
+to see them. Amidst the wild screams of the children—“_Let my mammy
+go”—“let my mammy go_”—there escaped, from between the teeth of the
+bullet-headed overseer, a few bitter curses, mingled with threats, that
+“he would teach the d—d b—h how to give a white man impudence.” There
+is no doubt that Nelly felt herself superior, in some respects, to the
+slaves around her. She was a wife and a mother; her husband was a
+valued and favorite slave. Besides, he was one of the first hands on
+board of the sloop, and the sloop hands—since they had to represent the
+plantation abroad—were generally treated tenderly. The overseer never
+was allowed to whip Harry; why then should he be allowed to whip
+Harry’s wife? Thoughts of this kind, no doubt, influenced her; but, for
+whatever reason, she nobly resisted, and, unlike most of the slaves,
+seemed determined to make her whipping cost Mr. Sevier as much as
+possible. The blood on his (and her) face, attested her skill, as well
+as her courage and dexterity in using her nails. Maddened by her
+resistance, I expected to see Mr. Sevier level her to the ground by a
+stunning blow; but no; like a savage bull-dog—which he resembled both
+in temper and appearance—he maintained his grip, and steadily dragged
+his victim toward the tree, disregarding alike her blows, and the cries
+of the children for their mother’s release. He would, doubtless, have
+knocked her down with his hickory stick, but that such act might have
+cost him his place. It is often deemed advisable to knock a _man_ slave
+down, in order to tie him, but it is considered cowardly and
+inexcusable, in an overseer, thus to deal with a _woman_. He is
+expected to tie her up, and to give her what is called, in southern
+parlance, a “genteel flogging,” without any very great outlay of
+strength or skill. I watched, with palpitating interest, the course of
+the preliminary struggle, and was saddened by every new advantage
+gained over her by the ruffian. There were times when she seemed likely
+to get the better of the brute, but he finally overpowered her, and
+succeeded in getting his rope around her arms, and in firmly tying her
+to the tree, at which he had been aiming. This done, and Nelly was at
+the mercy of his merciless lash; and now, what followed, I have no
+heart to describe. The cowardly creature made good his every threat;
+and wielded the lash with all the hot zest of furious revenge. The
+cries of the woman, while undergoing the terrible infliction, were
+mingled with those of the children, sounds which I hope the reader may
+never be called upon to hear. When Nelly was untied, her back was
+covered with blood. The red stripes were all over her shoulders. She
+was whipped—severely whipped; but she was not subdued, for she
+continued to denounce the overseer, and to call him every vile name. He
+had bruised her flesh, but had left her invincible spirit undaunted.
+Such floggings are seldom repeated by the same overseer. They prefer to
+whip those who are most easily whipped. The old doctrine that
+submission is the very best cure for outrage and wrong, does not hold
+good on the slave plantation. He is whipped oftenest, who is whipped
+easiest; and that slave who has the courage to stand up for himself
+against the overseer, although he may have many hard stripes at the
+first, becomes, in the end, a freeman, even though he sustain the
+formal relation of a slave. “You can shoot me but you can’t whip me,”
+said a slave to Rigby Hopkins; and the result was that he was neither
+whipped nor shot. If the latter had been his fate, it would have been
+less deplorable than the living and lingering death to which cowardly
+and slavish souls are subjected. I do not know that Mr. Sevier ever
+undertook to whip Nelly again. He probably never did, for it was not
+long after his attempt to subdue her, that he was taken sick, and died.
+The wretched man died as he had lived, unrepentant; and it was
+said—with how much truth I know not—that in the very last hours of his
+life, his ruling passion showed itself, and that when wrestling with
+death, he was uttering horrid oaths, and flourishing the cowskin, as
+though he was tearing the flesh off some helpless slave. One thing is
+certain, that when he was in health, it was enough to chill the blood,
+and to stiffen the hair of an ordinary man, to hear Mr. Sevier talk.
+Nature, or his cruel habits, had given to his face an expression of
+unusual savageness, even for a slave-driver. Tobacco and rage had worn
+his teeth short, and nearly every sentence that escaped their
+compressed grating, was commenced or concluded with some outburst of
+profanity. His presence made the field alike the field of blood, and of
+blasphemy. Hated for his cruelty, despised for his cowardice, his death
+was deplored by no one outside his own house—if indeed it was deplored
+there; it was regarded by the slaves as a merciful interposition of
+Providence. Never went there a man to the grave loaded with heavier
+curses. Mr. Sevier’s place was promptly taken by a Mr. Hopkins, and the
+change was quite a relief, he being a very different man. He was, in
+all respects, a better man than his predecessor; as good as any man can
+be, and yet be an overseer. His course was characterized by no
+extraordinary cruelty; and when he whipped a slave, as he sometimes
+did, he seemed to take no especial pleasure in it, but, on the
+contrary, acted as though he felt it to be a mean business. Mr. Hopkins
+stayed but a short time; his place much to the regret of the slaves
+generally—was taken by a Mr. Gore, of whom more will be said hereafter.
+It is enough, for the present, to say, that he was no improvement on
+Mr. Sevier, except that he was less noisy and less profane.
+
+I have already referred to the business-like aspect of Col. Lloyd’s
+plantation. This business-like appearance was much increased on the two
+days at the end of each month, when the slaves from the different farms
+came to get their monthly allowance of meal and meat. These were gala
+days for the slaves, and there was much rivalry among them as to _who_
+should be elected to go up to the great house farm for the allowance,
+and, indeed, to attend to any business at this (for them) the capital.
+The beauty and grandeur of the place, its numerous slave population,
+and the fact that Harry, Peter and Jake the sailors of the sloop—almost
+always kept, privately, little trinkets which they bought at Baltimore,
+to sell, made it a privilege to come to the great house farm. Being
+selected, too, for this office, was deemed a high honor. It was taken
+as a proof of confidence and favor; but, probably, the chief motive of
+the competitors for the place, was, a desire to break the dull monotony
+of the field, and to get beyond the overseer’s eye and lash. Once on
+the road with an ox team, and seated on the tongue of his cart, with no
+overseer to look after him, the slave was comparatively free; and, if
+thoughtful, he had time to think. Slaves are generally expected to sing
+as well as to work. A silent slave is not liked by masters or
+overseers. _“Make a noise,” “make a noise,”_ and _“bear a hand,”_ are
+the words usually addressed to the slaves when there is silence amongst
+them. This may account for the almost constant singing heard in the
+southern states. There was, generally, more or less singing among the
+teamsters, as it was one means of letting the overseer know where they
+were, and that they were moving on with the work. But, on allowance
+day, those who visited the great house farm were peculiarly excited and
+noisy. While on their way, they would make the dense old woods, for
+miles around, reverberate with their wild notes. These were not always
+merry because they were wild. On the contrary, they were mostly of a
+plaintive cast, and told a tale of grief and sorrow. In the most
+boisterous outbursts of rapturous sentiment, there was ever a tinge of
+deep melancholy. I have never heard any songs like those anywhere since
+I left slavery, except when in Ireland. There I heard the same _wailing
+notes_, and was much affected by them. It was during the famine of
+1845-6. In all the songs of the slaves, there was ever some expression
+in praise of the great house farm; something which would flatter the
+pride of the owner, and, possibly, draw a favorable glance from him.
+
+I am going away to the great house farm,
+O yea!  O yea!  O yea!
+My old master is a good old master,
+O yea!  O yea!  O yea!
+
+
+This they would sing, with other words of their own improvising—jargon
+to others, but full of meaning to themselves. I have sometimes thought,
+that the mere hearing of those songs would do more to impress truly
+spiritual-minded men and women with the soul-crushing and death-dealing
+character of slavery, than the reading of whole volumes of its mere
+physical cruelties. They speak to the heart and to the soul of the
+thoughtful. I cannot better express my sense of them now, than ten
+years ago, when, in sketching my life, I thus spoke of this feature of
+my plantation experience:
+
+I did not, when a slave, understand the deep meanings of those rude,
+and apparently incoherent songs. I was myself within the circle, so
+that I neither saw or heard as those without might see and hear. They
+told a tale which was then altogether beyond my feeble comprehension;
+they were tones, loud, long and deep, breathing the prayer and
+complaint of souls boiling over with the bitterest anguish. Every tone
+was a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverance
+from chains. The hearing of those wild notes always depressed my
+spirits, and filled my heart with ineffable sadness. The mere
+recurrence, even now, afflicts my spirit, and while I am writing these
+lines, my tears are falling. To those songs I trace my first glimmering
+conceptions of the dehumanizing character of slavery. I can never get
+rid of that conception. Those songs still follow me, to deepen my
+hatred of slavery, and quicken my sympathies for my brethren in bonds.
+If any one wishes to be impressed with a sense of the soul-killing
+power of slavery, let him go to Col. Lloyd’s plantation, and, on
+allowance day, place himself in the deep, pine woods, and there let
+him, in silence, thoughtfully analyze the sounds that shall pass
+through the chambers of his soul, and if he is not thus impressed, it
+will only be because “there is no flesh in his obdurate heart.”
+
+The remark is not unfrequently made, that slaves are the most contended
+and happy laborers in the world. They dance and sing, and make all
+manner of joyful noises—so they do; but it is a great mistake to
+suppose them happy because they sing. The songs of the slave represent
+the sorrows, rather than the joys, of his heart; and he is relieved by
+them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears. Such is the
+constitution of the human mind, that, when pressed to extremes, it
+often avails itself of the most opposite methods. Extremes meet in mind
+as in matter. When the slaves on board of the “Pearl” were overtaken,
+arrested, and carried to prison—their hopes for freedom blasted—as they
+marched in chains they sang, and found (as Emily Edmunson tells us) a
+melancholy relief in singing. The singing of a man cast away on a
+desolate island, might be as appropriately considered an evidence of
+his contentment and happiness, as the singing of a slave. Sorrow and
+desolation have their songs, as well as joy and peace. Slaves sing more
+to _make_ themselves happy, than to express their happiness.
+
+It is the boast of slaveholders, that their slaves enjoy more of the
+physical comforts of life than the peasantry of any country in the
+world. My experience contradicts this. The men and the women slaves on
+Col. Lloyd’s farm, received, as their monthly allowance of food, eight
+pounds of pickled pork, or their equivalent in fish. The pork was often
+tainted, and the fish was of the poorest quality—herrings, which would
+bring very little if offered for sale in any northern market. With
+their pork or fish, they had one bushel of Indian meal—unbolted—of
+which quite fifteen per cent was fit only to feed pigs. With this, one
+pint of salt was given; and this was the entire monthly allowance of a
+full grown slave, working constantly in the open field, from morning
+until night, every day in the month except Sunday, and living on a
+fraction more than a quarter of a pound of meat per day, and less than
+a peck of corn-meal per week. There is no kind of work that a man can
+do which requires a better supply of food to prevent physical
+exhaustion, than the field-work of a slave. So much for the slave’s
+allowance of food; now for his raiment. The yearly allowance of
+clothing for the slaves on this plantation, consisted of two tow-linen
+shirts—such linen as the coarsest crash towels are made of; one pair of
+trowsers of the same material, for summer, and a pair of trowsers and a
+jacket of woolen, most slazily put together, for winter; one pair of
+yarn stockings, and one pair of shoes of the coarsest description. The
+slave’s entire apparel could not have cost more than eight dollars per
+year. The allowance of food and clothing for the little children, was
+committed to their mothers, or to the older slavewomen having the care
+of them. Children who were unable to work in the field, had neither
+shoes, stockings, jackets nor trowsers given them. Their clothing
+consisted of two coarse tow-linen shirts—already described—per year;
+and when these failed them, as they often did, they went naked until
+the next allowance day. Flocks of little children from five to ten
+years old, might be seen on Col. Lloyd’s plantation, as destitute of
+clothing as any little heathen on the west coast of Africa; and this,
+not merely during the summer months, but during the frosty weather of
+March. The little girls were no better off than the boys; all were
+nearly in a state of nudity.
+
+As to beds to sleep on, they were known to none of the field hands;
+nothing but a coarse blanket—not so good as those used in the north to
+cover horses—was given them, and this only to the men and women. The
+children stuck themselves in holes and corners, about the quarters;
+often in the corner of the huge chimneys, with their feet in the ashes
+to keep them warm. The want of beds, however, was not considered a very
+great privation. Time to sleep was of far greater importance, for, when
+the day’s work is done, most of the slaves have their washing, mending
+and cooking to do; and, having few or none of the ordinary facilities
+for doing such things, very many of their sleeping hours are consumed
+in necessary preparations for the duties of the coming day.
+
+The sleeping apartments—if they may be called such—have little regard
+to comfort or decency. Old and young, male and female, married and
+single, drop down upon the common clay floor, each covering up with his
+or her blanket,—the only protection they have from cold or exposure.
+The night, however, is shortened at both ends. The slaves work often as
+long as they can see, and are late in cooking and mending for the
+coming day; and, at the first gray streak of morning, they are summoned
+to the field by the driver’s horn.
+
+More slaves are whipped for oversleeping than for any other fault.
+Neither age nor sex finds any favor. The overseer stands at the quarter
+door, armed with stick and cowskin, ready to whip any who may be a few
+minutes behind time. When the horn is blown, there is a rush for the
+door, and the hindermost one is sure to get a blow from the overseer.
+Young mothers who worked in the field, were allowed an hour, about ten
+o’clock in the morning, to go home to nurse their children. Sometimes
+they were compelled to take their children with them, and to leave them
+in the corner of the fences, to prevent loss of time in nursing them.
+The overseer generally rides about the field on horseback. A cowskin
+and a hickory stick are his constant companions. The cowskin is a kind
+of whip seldom seen in the northern states. It is made entirely of
+untanned, but dried, ox hide, and is about as hard as a piece of
+well-seasoned live oak. It is made of various sizes, but the usual
+length is about three feet. The part held in the hand is nearly an inch
+in thickness; and, from the extreme end of the butt or handle, the
+cowskin tapers its whole length to a point. This makes it quite elastic
+and springy. A blow with it, on the hardest back, will gash the flesh,
+and make the blood start. Cowskins are painted red, blue and green, and
+are the favorite slave whip. I think this whip worse than the
+“cat-o’nine-tails.” It condenses the whole strength of the arm to a
+single point, and comes with a spring that makes the air whistle. It is
+a terrible instrument, and is so handy, that the overseer can always
+have it on his person, and ready for use. The temptation to use it is
+ever strong; and an overseer can, if disposed, always have cause for
+using it. With him, it is literally a word and a blow, and, in most
+cases, the blow comes first.
+
+As a general rule, slaves do not come to the quarters for either
+breakfast or dinner, but take their “ash cake” with them, and eat it in
+the field. This was so on the home plantation; probably, because the
+distance from the quarter to the field, was sometimes two, and even
+three miles.
+
+The dinner of the slaves consisted of a huge piece of ash cake, and a
+small piece of pork, or two salt herrings. Not having ovens, nor any
+suitable cooking utensils, the slaves mixed their meal with a little
+water, to such thickness that a spoon would stand erect in it; and,
+after the wood had burned away to coals and ashes, they would place the
+dough between oak leaves and lay it carefully in the ashes, completely
+covering it; hence, the bread is called ash cake. The surface of this
+peculiar bread is covered with ashes, to the depth of a sixteenth part
+of an inch, and the ashes, certainly, do not make it very grateful to
+the teeth, nor render it very palatable. The bran, or coarse part of
+the meal, is baked with the fine, and bright scales run through the
+bread. This bread, with its ashes and bran, would disgust and choke a
+northern man, but it is quite liked by the slaves. They eat it with
+avidity, and are more concerned about the quantity than about the
+quality. They are far too scantily provided for, and are worked too
+steadily, to be much concerned for the quality of their food. The few
+minutes allowed them at dinner time, after partaking of their coarse
+repast, are variously spent. Some lie down on the “turning row,” and go
+to sleep; others draw together, and talk; and others are at work with
+needle and thread, mending their tattered garments. Sometimes you may
+hear a wild, hoarse laugh arise from a circle, and often a song. Soon,
+however, the overseer comes dashing through the field. _“Tumble up!
+Tumble up_, and to _work, work,”_ is the cry; and, now, from twelve
+o’clock (mid-day) till dark, the human cattle are in motion, wielding
+their clumsy hoes; hurried on by no hope of reward, no sense of
+gratitude, no love of children, no prospect of bettering their
+condition; nothing, save the dread and terror of the slave-driver’s
+lash. So goes one day, and so comes and goes another.
+
+But, let us now leave the rough usage of the field, where vulgar
+coarseness and brutal cruelty spread themselves and flourish, rank as
+weeds in the tropics; where a vile wretch, in the shape of a man,
+rides, walks, or struts about, dealing blows, and leaving gashes on
+broken-spirited men and helpless women, for thirty dollars per month—a
+business so horrible, hardening and disgraceful, that, rather, than
+engage in it, a decent man would blow his own brains out—and let the
+reader view with me the equally wicked, but less repulsive aspects of
+slave life; where pride and pomp roll luxuriously at ease; where the
+toil of a thousand men supports a single family in easy idleness and
+sin. This is the great house; it is the home of the LLOYDS! Some idea
+of its splendor has already been given—and, it is here that we shall
+find that height of luxury which is the opposite of that depth of
+poverty and physical wretchedness that we have just now been
+contemplating. But, there is this difference in the two extremes; viz:
+that in the case of the slave, the miseries and hardships of his lot
+are imposed by others, and, in the master’s case, they are imposed by
+himself. The slave is a subject, subjected by others; the slaveholder
+is a subject, but he is the author of his own subjection. There is more
+truth in the saying, that slavery is a greater evil to the master than
+to the slave, than many, who utter it, suppose. The self-executing laws
+of eternal justice follow close on the heels of the evil-doer here, as
+well as elsewhere; making escape from all its penalties impossible.
+But, let others philosophize; it is my province here to relate and
+describe; only allowing myself a word or two, occasionally, to assist
+the reader in the proper understanding of the facts narrated.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. _Life in the Great House_
+
+
+COMFORTS AND LUXURIES—ELABORATE EXPENDITURE—HOUSE SERVANTS—MEN SERVANTS
+AND MAID SERVANTS—APPEARANCES—SLAVE ARISTOCRACY—STABLE AND CARRIAGE
+HOUSE—BOUNDLESS HOSPITALITY—FRAGRANCE OF RICH DISHES—THE DECEPTIVE
+CHARACTER OF SLAVERY—SLAVES SEEM HAPPY—SLAVES AND SLAVEHOLDERS ALIKE
+WRETCHED—FRETFUL DISCONTENT OF SLAVEHOLDERS—FAULT-FINDING—OLD
+BARNEY—HIS PROFESSION—WHIPPING—HUMILIATING SPECTACLE—CASE
+EXCEPTIONAL—WILLIAM WILKS—SUPPOSED SON OF COL. LLOYD—CURIOUS
+INCIDENT—SLAVES PREFER RICH MASTERS TO POOR ONES.
+
+
+The close-fisted stinginess that fed the poor slave on coarse corn-meal
+and tainted meat; that clothed him in crashy tow-linen, and hurried him
+to toil through the field, in all weathers, with wind and rain beating
+through his tattered garments; that scarcely gave even the young
+slave-mother time to nurse her hungry infant in the fence corner;
+wholly vanishes on approaching the sacred precincts of the great house,
+the home of the Lloyds. There the scriptural phrase finds an exact
+illustration; the highly favored inmates of this mansion are literally
+arrayed “in purple and fine linen,” and fare sumptuously every day! The
+table groans under the heavy and blood-bought luxuries gathered with
+painstaking care, at home and abroad. Fields, forests, rivers and seas,
+are made tributary here. Immense wealth, and its lavish expenditure,
+fill the great house with all that can please the eye, or tempt the
+taste. Here, appetite, not food, is the great _desideratum_. Fish,
+flesh and fowl, are here in profusion. Chickens, of all breeds; ducks,
+of all kinds, wild and tame, the common, and the huge Muscovite; Guinea
+fowls, turkeys, geese, and pea fowls, are in their several pens, fat
+and fatting for the destined vortex. The graceful swan, the mongrels,
+the black-necked wild goose; partridges, quails, pheasants and pigeons;
+choice water fowl, with all their strange varieties, are caught in this
+huge family net. Beef, veal, mutton and venison, of the most select
+kinds and quality, roll bounteously to this grand consumer. The teeming
+riches of the Chesapeake bay, its rock, perch, drums, crocus, trout,
+oysters, crabs, and terrapin, are drawn hither to adorn the glittering
+table of the great house. The dairy, too, probably the finest on the
+Eastern Shore of Maryland—supplied by cattle of the best English stock,
+imported for the purpose, pours its rich donations of fragant cheese,
+golden butter, and delicious cream, to heighten the attraction of the
+gorgeous, unending round of feasting. Nor are the fruits of the earth
+forgotten or neglected. The fertile garden, many acres in size,
+constituting a separate establishment, distinct from the common
+farm—with its scientific gardener, imported from Scotland (a Mr.
+McDermott) with four men under his direction, was not behind, either in
+the abundance or in the delicacy of its contributions to the same full
+board. The tender asparagus, the succulent celery, and the delicate
+cauliflower; egg plants, beets, lettuce, parsnips, peas, and French
+beans, early and late; radishes, cantelopes, melons of all kinds; the
+fruits and flowers of all climes and of all descriptions, from the
+hardy apple of the north, to the lemon and orange of the south,
+culminated at this point. Baltimore gathered figs, raisins, almonds and
+juicy grapes from Spain. Wines and brandies from France; teas of
+various flavor, from China; and rich, aromatic coffee from Java, all
+conspired to swell the tide of high life, where pride and indolence
+rolled and lounged in magnificence and satiety.
+
+Behind the tall-backed and elaborately wrought chairs, stand the
+servants, men and maidens—fifteen in number—discriminately selected,
+not only with a view to their industry and faithfulness, but with
+special regard to their personal appearance, their graceful agility and
+captivating address. Some of these are armed with fans, and are fanning
+reviving breezes toward the over-heated brows of the alabaster ladies;
+others watch with eager eye, and with fawn-like step anticipate and
+supply wants before they are sufficiently formed to be announced by
+word or sign.
+
+These servants constituted a sort of black aristocracy on Col. Lloyd’s
+plantation. They resembled the field hands in nothing, except in color,
+and in this they held the advantage of a velvet-like glossiness, rich
+and beautiful. The hair, too, showed the same advantage. The delicate
+colored maid rustled in the scarcely worn silk of her young mistress,
+while the servant men were equally well attired from the over-flowing
+wardrobe of their young masters; so that, in dress, as well as in form
+and feature, in manner and speech, in tastes and habits, the distance
+between these favored few, and the sorrow and hunger-smitten multitudes
+of the quarter and the field, was immense; and this is seldom passed
+over.
+
+Let us now glance at the stables and the carriage house, and we shall
+find the same evidences of pride and luxurious extravagance. Here are
+three splendid coaches, soft within and lustrous without. Here, too,
+are gigs, phaetons, barouches, sulkeys and sleighs. Here are saddles
+and harnesses—beautifully wrought and silver mounted—kept with every
+care. In the stable you will find, kept only for pleasure, full
+thirty-five horses, of the most approved blood for speed and beauty.
+There are two men here constantly employed in taking care of these
+horses. One of these men must be always in the stable, to answer every
+call from the great house. Over the way from the stable, is a house
+built expressly for the hounds—a pack of twenty-five or thirty—whose
+fare would have made glad the heart of a dozen slaves. Horses and
+hounds are not the only consumers of the slave’s toil. There was
+practiced, at the Lloyd’s, a hospitality which would have astonished
+and charmed any health-seeking northern divine or merchant, who might
+have chanced to share it. Viewed from his own table, and _not_ from the
+field, the colonel was a model of generous hospitality. His house was,
+literally, a hotel, for weeks during the summer months. At these times,
+especially, the air was freighted with the rich fumes of baking,
+boiling, roasting and broiling. The odors I shared with the winds; but
+the meats were under a more stringent monopoly except that,
+occasionally, I got a cake from Mas’ Daniel. In Mas’ Daniel I had a
+friend at court, from whom I learned many things which my eager
+curiosity was excited to know. I always knew when company was expected,
+and who they were, although I was an outsider, being the property, not
+of Col. Lloyd, but of a servant of the wealthy colonel. On these
+occasions, all that pride, taste and money could do, to dazzle and
+charm, was done.
+
+Who could say that the servants of Col. Lloyd were not well clad and
+cared for, after witnessing one of his magnificent entertainments? Who
+could say that they did not seem to glory in being the slaves of such a
+master? Who, but a fanatic, could get up any sympathy for persons whose
+every movement was agile, easy and graceful, and who evinced a
+consciousness of high superiority? And who would ever venture to
+suspect that Col. Lloyd was subject to the troubles of ordinary
+mortals? Master and slave seem alike in their glory here? Can it all be
+seeming? Alas! it may only be a sham at last! This immense wealth; this
+gilded splendor; this profusion of luxury; this exemption from toil;
+this life of ease; this sea of plenty; aye, what of it all? Are the
+pearly gates of happiness and sweet content flung open to such suitors?
+_far from it!_ The poor slave, on his hard, pine plank, but scantily
+covered with his thin blanket, sleeps more soundly than the feverish
+voluptuary who reclines upon his feather bed and downy pillow. Food, to
+the indolent lounger, is poison, not sustenance. Lurking beneath all
+their dishes, are invisible spirits of evil, ready to feed the
+self-deluded gormandizers which aches, pains, fierce temper,
+uncontrolled passions, dyspepsia, rheumatism, lumbago and gout; and of
+these the Lloyds got their full share. To the pampered love of ease,
+there is no resting place. What is pleasant today, is repulsive
+tomorrow; what is soft now, is hard at another time; what is sweet in
+the morning, is bitter in the evening. Neither to the wicked, nor to
+the idler, is there any solid peace: _“Troubled, like the restless
+sea.”_
+
+I had excellent opportunities of witnessing the restless discontent and
+the capricious irritation of the Lloyds. My fondness for horses—not
+peculiar to me more than to other boys attracted me, much of the time,
+to the stables. This establishment was especially under the care of
+“old” and “young” Barney—father and son. Old Barney was a fine looking
+old man, of a brownish complexion, who was quite portly, and wore a
+dignified aspect for a slave. He was, evidently, much devoted to his
+profession, and held his office an honorable one. He was a farrier as
+well as an ostler; he could bleed, remove lampers from the mouths of
+the horses, and was well instructed in horse medicines. No one on the
+farm knew, so well as Old Barney, what to do with a sick horse. But his
+gifts and acquirements were of little advantage to him. His office was
+by no means an enviable one. He often got presents, but he got stripes
+as well; for in nothing was Col. Lloyd more unreasonable and exacting,
+than in respect to the management of his pleasure horses. Any supposed
+inattention to these animals were sure to be visited with degrading
+punishment. His horses and dogs fared better than his men. Their beds
+must be softer and cleaner than those of his human cattle. No excuse
+could shield Old Barney, if the colonel only suspected something wrong
+about his horses; and, consequently, he was often punished when
+faultless. It was absolutely painful to listen to the many unreasonable
+and fretful scoldings, poured out at the stable, by Col. Lloyd, his
+sons and sons-in-law. Of the latter, he had three—Messrs. Nicholson,
+Winder and Lownes. These all lived at the great house a portion of the
+year, and enjoyed the luxury of whipping the servants when they
+pleased, which was by no means unfrequently. A horse was seldom brought
+out of the stable to which no objection could be raised. “There was
+dust in his hair;” “there was a twist in his reins;” “his mane did not
+lie straight;” “he had not been properly grained;” “his head did not
+look well;” “his fore-top was not combed out;” “his fetlocks had not
+been properly trimmed;” something was always wrong. Listening to
+complaints, however groundless, Barney must stand, hat in hand, lips
+sealed, never answering a word. He must make no reply, no explanation;
+the judgment of the master must be deemed infallible, for his power is
+absolute and irresponsible. In a free state, a master, thus complaining
+without cause, of his ostler, might be told—“Sir, I am sorry I cannot
+please you, but, since I have done the best I can, your remedy is to
+dismiss me.” Here, however, the ostler must stand, listen and tremble.
+One of the most heart-saddening and humiliating scenes I ever
+witnessed, was the whipping of Old Barney, by Col. Lloyd himself. Here
+were two men, both advanced in years; there were the silvery locks of
+Col. L., and there was the bald and toil-worn brow of Old Barney;
+master and slave; superior and inferior here, but _equals_ at the bar
+of God; and, in the common course of events, they must both soon meet
+in another world, in a world where all distinctions, except those based
+on obedience and disobedience, are blotted out forever. “Uncover your
+head!” said the imperious master; he was obeyed. “Take off your jacket,
+you old rascal!” and off came Barney’s jacket. “Down on your knees!”
+down knelt the old man, his shoulders bare, his bald head glistening in
+the sun, and his aged knees on the cold, damp ground. In his humble and
+debasing attitude, the master—that master to whom he had given the best
+years and the best strength of his life—came forward, and laid on
+thirty lashes, with his horse whip. The old man bore it patiently, to
+the last, answering each blow with a slight shrug of the shoulders, and
+a groan. I cannot think that Col. Lloyd succeeded in marring the flesh
+of Old Barney very seriously, for the whip was a light, riding whip;
+but the spectacle of an aged man—a husband and a father—humbly kneeling
+before a worm of the dust, surprised and shocked me at the time; and
+since I have grown old enough to think on the wickedness of slavery,
+few facts have been of more value to me than this, to which I was a
+witness. It reveals slavery in its true color, and in its maturity of
+repulsive hatefulness. I owe it to truth, however, to say, that this
+was the first and the last time I ever saw Old Barney, or any other
+slave, compelled to kneel to receive a whipping.
+
+I saw, at the stable, another incident, which I will relate, as it is
+illustrative of a phase of slavery to which I have already referred in
+another connection. Besides two other coachmen, Col. Lloyd owned one
+named William, who, strangely enough, was often called by his surname,
+Wilks, by white and colored people on the home plantation. Wilks was a
+very fine looking man. He was about as white as anybody on the
+plantation; and in manliness of form, and comeliness of features, he
+bore a very striking resemblance to Mr. Murray Lloyd. It was whispered,
+and pretty generally admitted as a fact, that William Wilks was a son
+of Col. Lloyd, by a highly favored slave-woman, who was still on the
+plantation. There were many reasons for believing this whisper, not
+only in William’s appearance, but in the undeniable freedom which he
+enjoyed over all others, and his apparent consciousness of being
+something more than a slave to his master. It was notorious, too, that
+William had a deadly enemy in Murray Lloyd, whom he so much resembled,
+and that the latter greatly worried his father with importunities to
+sell William. Indeed, he gave his father no rest until he did sell him,
+to Austin Woldfolk, the great slave-trader at that time. Before selling
+him, however, Mr. L. tried what giving William a whipping would do,
+toward making things smooth; but this was a failure. It was a
+compromise, and defeated itself; for, immediately after the infliction,
+the heart-sickened colonel atoned to William for the abuse, by giving
+him a gold watch and chain. Another fact, somewhat curious, is, that
+though sold to the remorseless _Woldfolk_, taken in irons to Baltimore
+and cast into prison, with a view to being driven to the south,
+William, by _some_ means—always a mystery to me—outbid all his
+purchasers, paid for himself, _and now resides in Baltimore, a_
+FREEMAN. Is there not room to suspect, that, as the gold watch was
+presented to atone for the whipping, a purse of gold was given him by
+the same hand, with which to effect his purchase, as an atonement for
+the indignity involved in selling his own flesh and blood. All the
+circumstances of William, on the great house farm, show him to have
+occupied a different position from the other slaves, and, certainly,
+there is nothing in the supposed hostility of slaveholders to
+amalgamation, to forbid the supposition that William Wilks was the son
+of Edward Lloyd. _Practical_ amalgamation is common in every
+neighborhood where I have been in slavery.
+
+Col. Lloyd was not in the way of knowing much of the real opinions and
+feelings of his slaves respecting him. The distance between him and
+them was far too great to admit of such knowledge. His slaves were so
+numerous, that he did not know them when he saw them. Nor, indeed, did
+all his slaves know him. In this respect, he was inconveniently rich.
+It is reported of him, that, while riding along the road one day, he
+met a colored man, and addressed him in the usual way of speaking to
+colored people on the public highways of the south: “Well, boy, who do
+you belong to?” “To Col. Lloyd,” replied the slave. “Well, does the
+colonel treat you well?” “No, sir,” was the ready reply. “What? does he
+work you too hard?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, don’t he give enough to eat?”
+“Yes, sir, he gives me enough, such as it is.” The colonel, after
+ascertaining where the slave belonged, rode on; the slave also went on
+about his business, not dreaming that he had been conversing with his
+master. He thought, said and heard nothing more of the matter, until
+two or three weeks afterwards. The poor man was then informed by his
+overseer, that, for having found fault with his master, he was now to
+be sold to a Georgia trader. He was immediately chained and handcuffed;
+and thus, without a moment’s warning he was snatched away, and forever
+sundered from his family and friends, by a hand more unrelenting than
+that of death. _This_ is the penalty of telling the simple truth, in
+answer to a series of plain questions. It is partly in consequence of
+such facts, that slaves, when inquired of as to their condition and the
+character of their masters, almost invariably say they are contented,
+and that their masters are kind. Slaveholders have been known to send
+spies among their slaves, to ascertain, if possible, their views and
+feelings in regard to their condition. The frequency of this had the
+effect to establish among the slaves the maxim, that a still tongue
+makes a wise head. They suppress the truth rather than take the
+consequence of telling it, and, in so doing, they prove themselves a
+part of the human family. If they have anything to say of their master,
+it is, generally, something in his favor, especially when speaking to
+strangers. I was frequently asked, while a slave, if I had a kind
+master, and I do not remember ever to have given a negative reply. Nor
+did I, when pursuing this course, consider myself as uttering what was
+utterly false; for I always measured the kindness of my master by the
+standard of kindness set up by slaveholders around us. However, slaves
+are like other people, and imbibe similar prejudices. They are apt to
+think _their condition_ better than that of others. Many, under the
+influence of this prejudice, think their own masters are better than
+the masters of other slaves; and this, too, in some cases, when the
+very reverse is true. Indeed, it is not uncommon for slaves even to
+fall out and quarrel among themselves about the relative kindness of
+their masters, contending for the superior goodness of his own over
+that of others. At the very same time, they mutually execrate their
+masters, when viewed separately. It was so on our plantation. When Col.
+Lloyd’s slaves met those of Jacob Jepson, they seldom parted without a
+quarrel about their masters; Col. Lloyd’s slaves contending that he was
+the richest, and Mr. Jepson’s slaves that he was the smartest, man of
+the two. Col. Lloyd’s slaves would boost his ability to buy and sell
+Jacob Jepson; Mr. Jepson’s slaves would boast his ability to whip Col.
+Lloyd. These quarrels would almost always end in a fight between the
+parties; those that beat were supposed to have gained the point at
+issue. They seemed to think that the greatness of their masters was
+transferable to themselves. To be a SLAVE, was thought to be bad
+enough; but to be a _poor man’s_ slave, was deemed a disgrace, indeed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. _A Chapter of Horrors_
+
+
+AUSTIN GORE—A SKETCH OF HIS CHARACTER—OVERSEERS AS A CLASS—THEIR
+PECULIAR CHARACTERISTICS—THE MARKED INDIVIDUALITY OF AUSTIN GORE—HIS
+SENSE OF DUTY—HOW HE WHIPPED—MURDER OF POOR DENBY—HOW IT
+OCCURRED—SENSATION—HOW GORE MADE PEACE WITH COL. LLOYD—THE MURDER
+UNPUNISHED—ANOTHER DREADFUL MURDER NARRATED—NO LAWS FOR THE PROTECTION
+OF SLAVES CAN BE ENFORCED IN THE SOUTHERN STATES.
+
+
+As I have already intimated elsewhere, the slaves on Col. Lloyd’s
+plantation, whose hard lot, under Mr. Sevier, the reader has already
+noticed and deplored, were not permitted to enjoy the comparatively
+moderate rule of Mr. Hopkins. The latter was succeeded by a very
+different man. The name of the new overseer was Austin Gore. Upon this
+individual I would fix particular attention; for under his rule there
+was more suffering from violence and bloodshed than had—according to
+the older slaves ever been experienced before on this plantation. I
+confess, I hardly know how to bring this man fitly before the reader.
+He was, it is true, an overseer, and possessed, to a large extent, the
+peculiar characteristics of his class; yet, to call him merely an
+overseer, would not give the reader a fair notion of the man. I speak
+of overseers as a class. They are such. They are as distinct from the
+slaveholding gentry of the south, as are the fishwomen of Paris, and
+the coal-heavers of London, distinct from other members of society.
+They constitute a separate fraternity at the south, not less marked
+than is the fraternity of Park Lane bullies in New York. They have been
+arranged and classified by that great law of attraction, which
+determines the spheres and affinities of men; which ordains, that men,
+whose malign and brutal propensities predominate over their moral and
+intellectual endowments, shall, naturally, fall into those employments
+which promise the largest gratification to those predominating
+instincts or propensities. The office of overseer takes this raw
+material of vulgarity and brutality, and stamps it as a distinct class
+of southern society. But, in this class, as in all other classes, there
+are characters of marked individuality, even while they bear a general
+resemblance to the mass. Mr. Gore was one of those, to whom a general
+characterization would do no manner of justice. He was an overseer; but
+he was something more. With the malign and tyrannical qualities of an
+overseer, he combined something of the lawful master. He had the
+artfulness and the mean ambition of his class; but he was wholly free
+from the disgusting swagger and noisy bravado of his fraternity. There
+was an easy air of independence about him; a calm self-possession, and
+a sternness of glance, which might well daunt hearts less timid than
+those of poor slaves, accustomed from childhood and through life to
+cower before a driver’s lash. The home plantation of Col. Lloyd
+afforded an ample field for the exercise of the qualifications for
+overseership, which he possessed in such an eminent degree.
+
+Mr. Gore was one of those overseers, who could torture the slightest
+word or look into impudence; he had the nerve, not only to resent, but
+to punish, promptly and severely. He never allowed himself to be
+answered back, by a slave. In this, he was as lordly and as imperious
+as Col. Edward Lloyd, himself; acting always up to the maxim,
+practically maintained by slaveholders, that it is better that a dozen
+slaves suffer under the lash, without fault, than that the master or
+the overseer should _seem_ to have been wrong in the presence of the
+slave. _Everything must be absolute here_. Guilty or not guilty, it is
+enough to be accused, to be sure of a flogging. The very presence of
+this man Gore was painful, and I shunned him as I would have shunned a
+rattlesnake. His piercing, black eyes, and sharp, shrill voice, ever
+awakened sensations of terror among the slaves. For so young a man (I
+describe him as he was, twenty-five or thirty years ago) Mr. Gore was
+singularly reserved and grave in the presence of slaves. He indulged in
+no jokes, said no funny things, and kept his own counsels. Other
+overseers, how brutal soever they might be, were, at times, inclined to
+gain favor with the slaves, by indulging a little pleasantry; but Gore
+was never known to be guilty of any such weakness. He was always the
+cold, distant, unapproachable _overseer_ of Col. Edward Lloyd’s
+plantation, and needed no higher pleasure than was involved in a
+faithful discharge of the duties of his office. When he whipped, he
+seemed to do so from a sense of duty, and feared no consequences. What
+Hopkins did reluctantly, Gore did with alacrity. There was a stern
+will, an iron-like reality, about this Gore, which would have easily
+made him the chief of a band of pirates, had his environments been
+favorable to such a course of life. All the coolness, savage barbarity
+and freedom from moral restraint, which are necessary in the character
+of a pirate-chief, centered, I think, in this man Gore. Among many
+other deeds of shocking cruelty which he perpetrated, while I was at
+Mr. Lloyd’s, was the murder of a young colored man, named Denby. He was
+sometimes called Bill Denby, or Demby; (I write from sound, and the
+sounds on Lloyd’s plantation are not very certain.) I knew him well. He
+was a powerful young man, full of animal spirits, and, so far as I
+know, he was among the most valuable of Col. Lloyd’s slaves. In
+something—I know not what—he offended this Mr. Austin Gore, and, in
+accordance with the custom of the latter, he under took to flog him. He
+gave Denby but few stripes; the latter broke away from him and plunged
+into the creek, and, standing there to the depth of his neck in water,
+he refused to come out at the order of the overseer; whereupon, for
+this refusal, _Gore shot him dead!_ It is said that Gore gave Denby
+three calls, telling him that if he did not obey the last call, he
+would shoot him. When the third call was given, Denby stood his ground
+firmly; and this raised the question, in the minds of the by-standing
+slaves—“Will he dare to shoot?” Mr. Gore, without further parley, and
+without making any further effort to induce Denby to come out of the
+water, raised his gun deliberately to his face, took deadly aim at his
+standing victim, and, in an instant, poor Denby was numbered with the
+dead. His mangled body sank out of sight, and only his warm, red blood
+marked the place where he had stood.
+
+This devilish outrage, this fiendish murder, produced, as it was well
+calculated to do, a tremendous sensation. A thrill of horror flashed
+through every soul on the plantation, if I may except the guilty wretch
+who had committed the hell-black deed. While the slaves generally were
+panic-struck, and howling with alarm, the murderer himself was calm and
+collected, and appeared as though nothing unusual had happened. The
+atrocity roused my old master, and he spoke out, in reprobation of it;
+but the whole thing proved to be less than a nine days’ wonder. Both
+Col. Lloyd and my old master arraigned Gore for his cruelty in the
+matter, but this amounted to nothing. His reply, or explanation—as I
+remember to have heard it at the time was, that the extraordinary
+expedient was demanded by necessity; that Denby had become
+unmanageable; that he had set a dangerous example to the other slaves;
+and that, without some such prompt measure as that to which he had
+resorted, were adopted, there would be an end to all rule and order on
+the plantation. That very convenient covert for all manner of cruelty
+and outrage that cowardly alarm-cry, that the slaves would _“take the
+place,”_ was pleaded, in extenuation of this revolting crime, just as
+it had been cited in defense of a thousand similar ones. He argued,
+that if one slave refused to be corrected, and was allowed to escape
+with his life, when he had been told that he should lose it if he
+persisted in his course, the other slaves would soon copy his example;
+the result of which would be, the freedom of the slaves, and the
+enslavement of the whites. I have every reason to believe that Mr.
+Gore’s defense, or explanation, was deemed satisfactory—at least to
+Col. Lloyd. He was continued in his office on the plantation. His fame
+as an overseer went abroad, and his horrid crime was not even submitted
+to judicial investigation. The murder was committed in the presence of
+slaves, and they, of course, could neither institute a suit, nor
+testify against the murderer. His bare word would go further in a court
+of law, than the united testimony of ten thousand black witnesses.
+
+All that Mr. Gore had to do, was to make his peace with Col. Lloyd.
+This done, and the guilty perpetrator of one of the most foul murders
+goes unwhipped of justice, and uncensured by the community in which he
+lives. Mr. Gore lived in St. Michael’s, Talbot county, when I left
+Maryland; if he is still alive he probably yet resides there; and I
+have no reason to doubt that he is now as highly esteemed, and as
+greatly respected, as though his guilty soul had never been stained
+with innocent blood. I am well aware that what I have now written will
+by some be branded as false and malicious. It will be denied, not only
+that such a thing ever did transpire, as I have now narrated, but that
+such a thing could happen in _Maryland_. I can only say—believe it or
+not—that I have said nothing but the literal truth, gainsay it who may.
+
+I speak advisedly when I say this,—that killing a slave, or any colored
+person, in Talbot county, Maryland, is not treated as a crime, either
+by the courts or the community. Mr. Thomas Lanman, ship carpenter, of
+St. Michael’s, killed two slaves, one of whom he butchered with a
+hatchet, by knocking his brains out. He used to boast of the commission
+of the awful and bloody deed. I have heard him do so, laughingly,
+saying, among other things, that he was the only benefactor of his
+country in the company, and that when “others would do as much as he
+had done, we should be relieved of the d—d niggers.”
+
+As an evidence of the reckless disregard of human life where the life
+is that of a slave I may state the notorious fact, that the wife of Mr.
+Giles Hicks, who lived but a short distance from Col. Lloyd’s, with her
+own hands murdered my wife’s cousin, a young girl between fifteen and
+sixteen years of age—mutilating her person in a most shocking manner.
+The atrocious woman, in the paroxysm of her wrath, not content with
+murdering her victim, literally mangled her face, and broke her breast
+bone. Wild, however, and infuriated as she was, she took the precaution
+to cause the slave-girl to be buried; but the facts of the case coming
+abroad, very speedily led to the disinterment of the remains of the
+murdered slave-girl. A coroner’s jury was assembled, who decided that
+the girl had come to her death by severe beating. It was ascertained
+that the offense for which this girl was thus hurried out of the world,
+was this: she had been set that night, and several preceding nights, to
+mind Mrs. Hicks’s baby, and having fallen into a sound sleep, the baby
+cried, waking Mrs. Hicks, but not the slave-girl. Mrs. Hicks, becoming
+infuriated at the girl’s tardiness, after calling several times, jumped
+from her bed and seized a piece of fire-wood from the fireplace; and
+then, as she lay fast asleep, she deliberately pounded in her skull and
+breast-bone, and thus ended her life. I will not say that this most
+horrid murder produced no sensation in the community. It _did_ produce
+a sensation; but, incredible to tell, the moral sense of the community
+was blunted too entirely by the ordinary nature of slavery horrors, to
+bring the murderess to punishment. A warrant was issued for her arrest,
+but, for some reason or other, that warrant was never served. Thus did
+Mrs. Hicks not only escape condign punishment, but even the pain and
+mortification of being arraigned before a court of justice.
+
+Whilst I am detailing the bloody deeds that took place during my stay
+on Col. Lloyd’s plantation, I will briefly narrate another dark
+transaction, which occurred about the same time as the murder of Denby
+by Mr. Gore.
+
+On the side of the river Wye, opposite from Col. Lloyd’s, there lived a
+Mr. Beal Bondley, a wealthy slaveholder. In the direction of his land,
+and near the shore, there was an excellent oyster fishing ground, and
+to this, some of the slaves of Col. Lloyd occasionally resorted in
+their little canoes, at night, with a view to make up the deficiency of
+their scanty allowance of food, by the oysters that they could easily
+get there. This, Mr. Bondley took it into his head to regard as a
+trespass, and while an old man belonging to Col. Lloyd was engaged in
+catching a few of the many millions of oysters that lined the bottom of
+that creek, to satisfy his hunger, the villainous Mr. Bondley, lying in
+ambush, without the slightest ceremony, discharged the contents of his
+musket into the back and shoulders of the poor old man. As good fortune
+would have it, the shot did not prove mortal, and Mr. Bondley came
+over, the next day, to see Col. Lloyd—whether to pay him for his
+property, or to justify himself for what he had done, I know not; but
+this I _can_ say, the cruel and dastardly transaction was speedily
+hushed up; there was very little said about it at all, and nothing was
+publicly done which looked like the application of the principle of
+justice to the man whom _chance_, only, saved from being an actual
+murderer. One of the commonest sayings to which my ears early became
+accustomed, on Col. Lloyd’s plantation and elsewhere in Maryland, was,
+that it was _“worth but half a cent to kill a nigger, and a half a cent
+to bury him;”_ and the facts of my experience go far to justify the
+practical truth of this strange proverb. Laws for the protection of the
+lives of the slaves, are, as they must needs be, utterly incapable of
+being enforced, where the very parties who are nominally protected, are
+not permitted to give evidence, in courts of law, against the only
+class of persons from whom abuse, outrage and murder might be
+reasonably apprehended. While I heard of numerous murders committed by
+slaveholders on the Eastern Shores of Maryland, I never knew a solitary
+instance in which a slaveholder was either hung or imprisoned for
+having murdered a slave. The usual pretext for killing a slave is, that
+the slave has offered resistance. Should a slave, when assaulted, but
+raise his hand in self defense, the white assaulting party is fully
+justified by southern, or Maryland, public opinion, in shooting the
+slave down. Sometimes this is done, simply because it is alleged that
+the slave has been saucy. But here I leave this phase of the society of
+my early childhood, and will relieve the kind reader of these
+heart-sickening details.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. _Personal Treatment_
+
+
+MISS LUCRETIA—HER KINDNESS—HOW IT WAS MANIFESTED—“IKE”—A BATTLE WITH
+HIM—THE CONSEQUENCES THEREOF—MISS LUCRETIA’S BALSAM—BREAD—HOW I
+OBTAINED IT—BEAMS OF SUNLIGHT AMIDST THE GENERAL DARKNESS—SUFFERING
+FROM COLD—HOW WE TOOK OUR MEALS—ORDERS TO PREPARE FOR
+BALTIMORE—OVERJOYED AT THE THOUGHT OF QUITTING THE
+PLANTATION—EXTRAORDINARY CLEANSING—COUSIN TOM’S VERSION OF
+BALTIMORE—ARRIVAL THERE—KIND RECEPTION GIVEN ME BY MRS. SOPHIA
+AULD—LITTLE TOMMY—MY NEW POSITION—MY NEW DUTIES—A TURNING POINT IN MY
+HISTORY.
+
+
+I have nothing cruel or shocking to relate of my own personal
+experience, while I remained on Col. Lloyd’s plantation, at the home of
+my old master. An occasional cuff from Aunt Katy, and a regular
+whipping from old master, such as any heedless and mischievous boy
+might get from his father, is all that I can mention of this sort. I
+was not old enough to work in the field, and, there being little else
+than field work to perform, I had much leisure. The most I had to do,
+was, to drive up the cows in the evening, to keep the front yard clean,
+and to perform small errands for my young mistress, Lucretia Auld. I
+have reasons for thinking this lady was very kindly disposed toward me,
+and, although I was not often the object of her attention, I constantly
+regarded her as my friend, and was always glad when it was my privilege
+to do her a service. In a family where there was so much that was
+harsh, cold and indifferent, the slightest word or look of kindness
+passed, with me, for its full value. Miss Lucretia—as we all continued
+to call her long after her marriage—had bestowed upon me such words and
+looks as taught me that she pitied me, if she did not love me. In
+addition to words and looks, she sometimes gave me a piece of bread and
+butter; a thing not set down in the bill of fare, and which must have
+been an extra ration, planned aside from either Aunt Katy or old
+master, solely out of the tender regard and friendship she had for me.
+Then, too, I one day got into the wars with Uncle Able’s son, “Ike,”
+and had got sadly worsted; in fact, the little rascal had struck me
+directly in the forehead with a sharp piece of cinder, fused with iron,
+from the old blacksmith’s forge, which made a cross in my forehead very
+plainly to be seen now. The gash bled very freely, and I roared very
+loudly and betook myself home. The coldhearted Aunt Katy paid no
+attention either to my wound or my roaring, except to tell me it served
+me right; I had no business with Ike; it was good for me; I would now
+keep away _“from dem Lloyd niggers.”_ Miss Lucretia, in this state of
+the case, came forward; and, in quite a different spirit from that
+manifested by Aunt Katy, she called me into the parlor (an extra
+privilege of itself) and, without using toward me any of the
+hard-hearted and reproachful epithets of my kitchen tormentor, she
+quietly acted the good Samaritan. With her own soft hand she washed the
+blood from my head and face, fetched her own balsam bottle, and with
+the balsam wetted a nice piece of white linen, and bound up my head.
+The balsam was not more healing to the wound in my head, than her
+kindness was healing to the wounds in my spirit, made by the unfeeling
+words of Aunt Katy. After this, Miss Lucretia was my friend. I felt her
+to be such; and I have no doubt that the simple act of binding up my
+head, did much to awaken in her mind an interest in my welfare. It is
+quite true, that this interest was never very marked, and it seldom
+showed itself in anything more than in giving me a piece of bread when
+I was hungry; but this was a great favor on a slave plantation, and I
+was the only one of the children to whom such attention was paid. When
+very hungry, I would go into the back yard and play under Miss
+Lucretia’s window. When pretty severely pinched by hunger, I had a
+habit of singing, which the good lady very soon came to understand as a
+petition for a piece of bread. When I sung under Miss Lucretia’s
+window, I was very apt to get well paid for my music. The reader will
+see that I now had two friends, both at important points—Mas’ Daniel at
+the great house, and Miss Lucretia at home. From Mas’ Daniel I got
+protection from the bigger boys; and from Miss Lucretia I got bread, by
+singing when I was hungry, and sympathy when I was abused by that
+termagant, who had the reins of government in the kitchen. For such
+friendship I felt deeply grateful, and bitter as are my recollections
+of slavery, I love to recall any instances of kindness, any sunbeams of
+humane treatment, which found way to my soul through the iron grating
+of my house of bondage. Such beams seem all the brighter from the
+general darkness into which they penetrate, and the impression they
+make is vividly distinct and beautiful.
+
+As I have before intimated, I was seldom whipped—and never severely—by
+my old master. I suffered little from the treatment I received, except
+from hunger and cold. These were my two great physical troubles. I
+could neither get a sufficiency of food nor of clothing; but I suffered
+less from hunger than from cold. In hottest summer and coldest winter,
+I was kept almost in a state of nudity; no shoes, no stockings, no
+jacket, no trowsers; nothing but coarse sackcloth or tow-linen, made
+into a sort of shirt, reaching down to my knees. This I wore night and
+day, changing it once a week. In the day time I could protect myself
+pretty well, by keeping on the sunny side of the house; and in bad
+weather, in the corner of the kitchen chimney. The great difficulty
+was, to keep warm during the night. I had no bed. The pigs in the pen
+had leaves, and the horses in the stable had straw, but the children
+had no beds. They lodged anywhere in the ample kitchen. I slept,
+generally, in a little closet, without even a blanket to cover me. In
+very cold weather. I sometimes got down the bag in which corn-meal was
+usually carried to the mill, and crawled into that. Sleeping there,
+with my head in and feet out, I was partly protected, though not
+comfortable. My feet have been so cracked with the frost, that the pen
+with which I am writing might be laid in the gashes. The manner of
+taking our meals at old master’s, indicated but little refinement. Our
+corn-meal mush, when sufficiently cooled, was placed in a large wooden
+tray, or trough, like those used in making maple sugar here in the
+north. This tray was set down, either on the floor of the kitchen, or
+out of doors on the ground; and the children were called, like so many
+pigs; and like so many pigs they would come, and literally devour the
+mush—some with oyster shells, some with pieces of shingles, and none
+with spoons. He that eat fastest got most, and he that was strongest
+got the best place; and few left the trough really satisfied. I was the
+most unlucky of any, for Aunt Katy had no good feeling for me; and if I
+pushed any of the other children, or if they told her anything
+unfavorable of me, she always believed the worst, and was sure to whip
+me.
+
+As I grew older and more thoughtful, I was more and more filled with a
+sense of my wretchedness. The cruelty of Aunt Katy, the hunger and cold
+I suffered, and the terrible reports of wrong and outrage which came to
+my ear, together with what I almost daily witnessed, led me, when yet
+but eight or nine years old, to wish I had never been born. I used to
+contrast my condition with the black-birds, in whose wild and sweet
+songs I fancied them so happy! Their apparent joy only deepened the
+shades of my sorrow. There are thoughtful days in the lives of
+children—at least there were in mine when they grapple with all the
+great, primary subjects of knowledge, and reach, in a moment,
+conclusions which no subsequent experience can shake. I was just as
+well aware of the unjust, unnatural and murderous character of slavery,
+when nine years old, as I am now. Without any appeal to books, to laws,
+or to authorities of any kind, it was enough to accept God as a father,
+to regard slavery as a crime.
+
+I was not ten years old when I left Col. Lloyd’s plantation for
+Balitmore(sic). I left that plantation with inexpressible joy. I never
+shall forget the ecstacy with which I received the intelligence from my
+friend, Miss Lucretia, that my old master had determined to let me go
+to Baltimore to live with Mr. Hugh Auld, a brother to Mr. Thomas Auld,
+my old master’s son-in-law. I received this information about three
+days before my departure. They were three of the happiest days of my
+childhood. I spent the largest part of these three days in the creek,
+washing off the plantation scurf, and preparing for my new home. Mrs.
+Lucretia took a lively interest in getting me ready. She told me I must
+get all the dead skin off my feet and knees, before I could go to
+Baltimore, for the people there were very cleanly, and would laugh at
+me if I looked dirty; and, besides, she was intending to give me a pair
+of trowsers, which I should not put on unless I got all the dirt off.
+This was a warning to which I was bound to take heed; for the thought
+of owning a pair of trowsers, was great, indeed. It was almost a
+sufficient motive, not only to induce me to scrub off the _mange_ (as
+pig drovers would call it) but the skin as well. So I went at it in
+good earnest, working for the first time in the hope of reward. I was
+greatly excited, and could hardly consent to sleep, lest I should be
+left. The ties that, ordinarily, bind children to their homes, were all
+severed, or they never had any existence in my case, at least so far as
+the home plantation of Col. L. was concerned. I therefore found no
+severe trail at the moment of my departure, such as I had experienced
+when separated from my home in Tuckahoe. My home at my old master’s was
+charmless to me; it was not home, but a prison to me; on parting from
+it, I could not feel that I was leaving anything which I could have
+enjoyed by staying. My mother was now long dead; my grandmother was far
+away, so that I seldom saw her; Aunt Katy was my unrelenting tormentor;
+and my two sisters and brothers, owing to our early separation in life,
+and the family-destroying power of slavery, were, comparatively,
+strangers to me. The fact of our relationship was almost blotted out. I
+looked for _home_ elsewhere, and was confident of finding none which I
+should relish less than the one I was leaving. If, however, I found in
+my new home to which I was going with such blissful
+anticipations—hardship, whipping and nakedness, I had the questionable
+consolation that I should not have escaped any one of these evils by
+remaining under the management of Aunt Katy. Then, too, I thought,
+since I had endured much in this line on Lloyd’s plantation, I could
+endure as much elsewhere, and especially at Baltimore; for I had
+something of the feeling about that city which is expressed in the
+saying, that being “hanged in England, is better than dying a natural
+death in Ireland.” I had the strongest desire to see Baltimore. My
+cousin Tom—a boy two or three years older than I—had been there, and
+though not fluent (he stuttered immoderately) in speech, he had
+inspired me with that desire, by his eloquent description of the place.
+Tom was, sometimes, Capt. Auld’s cabin boy; and when he came from
+Baltimore, he was always a sort of hero amongst us, at least till his
+Baltimore trip was forgotten. I could never tell him of anything, or
+point out anything that struck me as beautiful or powerful, but that he
+had seen something in Baltimore far surpassing it. Even the great house
+itself, with all its pictures within, and pillars without, he had the
+hardihood to say “was nothing to Baltimore.” He bought a trumpet (worth
+six pence) and brought it home; told what he had seen in the windows of
+stores; that he had heard shooting crackers, and seen soldiers; that he
+had seen a steamboat; that there were ships in Baltimore that could
+carry four such sloops as the “Sally Lloyd.” He said a great deal about
+the market-house; he spoke of the bells ringing; and of many other
+things which roused my curiosity very much; and, indeed, which
+heightened my hopes of happiness in my new home.
+
+We sailed out of Miles river for Baltimore early on a Saturday morning.
+I remember only the day of the week; for, at that time, I had no
+knowledge of the days of the month, nor, indeed, of the months of the
+year. On setting sail, I walked aft, and gave to Col. Lloyd’s
+plantation what I hoped would be the last look I should ever give to
+it, or to any place like it. My strong aversion to the great farm, was
+not owing to my own personal suffering, but the daily suffering of
+others, and to the certainty that I must, sooner or later, be placed
+under the barbarous rule of an overseer, such as the accomplished Gore,
+or the brutal and drunken Plummer. After taking this last view, I
+quitted the quarter deck, made my way to the bow of the sloop, and
+spent the remainder of the day in looking ahead; interesting myself in
+what was in the distance, rather than what was near by or behind. The
+vessels, sweeping along the bay, were very interesting objects. The
+broad bay opened like a shoreless ocean on my boyish vision, filling me
+with wonder and admiration.
+
+Late in the afternoon, we reached Annapolis, the capital of the state,
+stopping there not long enough to admit of my going ashore. It was the
+first large town I had ever seen; and though it was inferior to many a
+factory village in New England, my feelings, on seeing it, were excited
+to a pitch very little below that reached by travelers at the first
+view of Rome. The dome of the state house was especially imposing, and
+surpassed in grandeur the appearance of the great house. The great
+world was opening upon me very rapidly, and I was eagerly acquainting
+myself with its multifarious lessons.
+
+We arrived in Baltimore on Sunday morning, and landed at Smith’s wharf,
+not far from Bowly’s wharf. We had on board the sloop a large flock of
+sheep, for the Baltimore market; and, after assisting in driving them
+to the slaughter house of Mr. Curtis, on Loudon Slater’s Hill, I was
+speedily conducted by Rich—one of the hands belonging to the sloop—to
+my new home in Alliciana street, near Gardiner’s ship-yard, on Fell’s
+Point. Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Auld, my new mistress and master, were both at
+home, and met me at the door with their rosy cheeked little son,
+Thomas, to take care of whom was to constitute my future occupation. In
+fact, it was to “little Tommy,” rather than to his parents, that old
+master made a present of me; and though there was no _legal_ form or
+arrangement entered into, I have no doubt that Mr. and Mrs. Auld felt
+that, in due time, I should be the legal property of their bright-eyed
+and beloved boy, Tommy. I was struck with the appearance, especially,
+of my new mistress. Her face was lighted with the kindliest emotions;
+and the reflex influence of her countenance, as well as the tenderness
+with which she seemed to regard me, while asking me sundry little
+questions, greatly delighted me, and lit up, to my fancy, the pathway
+of my future. Miss Lucretia was kind; but my new mistress, “Miss
+Sophy,” surpassed her in kindness of manner. Little Thomas was
+affectionately told by his mother, that _“there was his Freddy,”_ and
+that “Freddy would take care of him;” and I was told to “be kind to
+little Tommy”—an injunction I scarcely needed, for I had already fallen
+in love with the dear boy; and with these little ceremonies I was
+initiated into my new home, and entered upon my peculiar duties, with
+not a cloud above the horizon.
+
+I may say here, that I regard my removal from Col. Lloyd’s plantation
+as one of the most interesting and fortunate events of my life. Viewing
+it in the light of human likelihoods, it is quite probable that, but
+for the mere circumstance of being thus removed before the rigors of
+slavery had fastened upon me; before my young spirit had been crushed
+under the iron control of the slave-driver, instead of being, today, a
+FREEMAN, I might have been wearing the galling chains of slavery. I
+have sometimes felt, however, that there was something more intelligent
+than _chance_, and something more certain than _luck_, to be seen in
+the circumstance. If I have made any progress in knowledge; if I have
+cherished any honorable aspirations, or have, in any manner, worthily
+discharged the duties of a member of an oppressed people; this little
+circumstance must be allowed its due weight in giving my life that
+direction. I have ever regarded it as the first plain manifestation of
+that
+
+Divinity that shapes our ends,
+Rough hew them as we will.
+
+
+I was not the only boy on the plantation that might have been sent to
+live in Baltimore. There was a wide margin from which to select. There
+were boys younger, boys older, and boys of the same age, belonging to
+my old master some at his own house, and some at his farm—but the high
+privilege fell to my lot.
+
+I may be deemed superstitious and egotistical, in regarding this event
+as a special interposition of Divine Providence in my favor; but the
+thought is a part of my history, and I should be false to the earliest
+and most cherished sentiments of my soul, if I suppressed, or hesitated
+to avow that opinion, although it may be characterized as irrational by
+the wise, and ridiculous by the scoffer. From my earliest recollections
+of serious matters, I date the entertainment of something like an
+ineffaceable conviction, that slavery would not always be able to hold
+me within its foul embrace; and this conviction, like a word of living
+faith, strengthened me through the darkest trials of my lot. This good
+spirit was from God; and to him I offer thanksgiving and praise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. _Life in Baltimore_
+
+
+CITY ANNOYANCES—PLANTATION REGRETS—MY MISTRESS, MISS SOPHA—HER
+HISTORY—HER KINDNESS TO ME—MY MASTER, HUGH AULD—HIS SOURNESS—MY
+INCREASED SENSITIVENESS—MY COMFORTS—MY OCCUPATION—THE BANEFUL EFFECTS
+OF SLAVEHOLDING ON MY DEAR AND GOOD MISTRESS—HOW SHE COMMENCED TEACHING
+ME TO READ—WHY SHE CEASED TEACHING ME—CLOUDS GATHERING OVER MY BRIGHT
+PROSPECTS—MASTER AULD’S EXPOSITION OF THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY OF
+SLAVERY—CITY SLAVES—PLANTATION SLAVES—THE CONTRAST—EXCEPTIONS—MR.
+HAMILTON’S TWO SLAVES, HENRIETTA AND MARY—MRS. HAMILTON’S CRUEL
+TREATMENT OF THEM—THE PITEOUS ASPECT THEY PRESENTED—NO POWER MUST COME
+BETWEEN THE SLAVE AND THE SLAVEHOLDER.
+
+
+Once in Baltimore, with hard brick pavements under my feet, which
+almost raised blisters, by their very heat, for it was in the height of
+summer; walled in on all sides by towering brick buildings; with troops
+of hostile boys ready to pounce upon me at every street corner; with
+new and strange objects glaring upon me at every step, and with
+startling sounds reaching my ears from all directions, I for a time
+thought that, after all, the home plantation was a more desirable place
+of residence than my home on Alliciana street, in Baltimore. My country
+eyes and ears were confused and bewildered here; but the boys were my
+chief trouble. They chased me, and called me _“Eastern Shore man,”_
+till really I almost wished myself back on the Eastern Shore. I had to
+undergo a sort of moral acclimation, and when that was over, I did much
+better. My new mistress happily proved to be all she _seemed_ to be,
+when, with her husband, she met me at the door, with a most beaming,
+benignant countenance. She was, naturally, of an excellent disposition,
+kind, gentle and cheerful. The supercilious contempt for the rights and
+feelings of the slave, and the petulance and bad humor which generally
+characterize slaveholding ladies, were all quite absent from kind
+“Miss” Sophia’s manner and bearing toward me. She had, in truth, never
+been a slaveholder, but had—a thing quite unusual in the south—depended
+almost entirely upon her own industry for a living. To this fact the
+dear lady, no doubt, owed the excellent preservation of her natural
+goodness of heart, for slavery can change a saint into a sinner, and an
+angel into a demon. I hardly knew how to behave toward “Miss Sopha,” as
+I used to call Mrs. Hugh Auld. I had been treated as a _pig_ on the
+plantation; I was treated as a _child_ now. I could not even approach
+her as I had formerly approached Mrs. Thomas Auld. How could I hang
+down my head, and speak with bated breath, when there was no pride to
+scorn me, no coldness to repel me, and no hatred to inspire me with
+fear? I therefore soon learned to regard her as something more akin to
+a mother, than a slaveholding mistress. The crouching servility of a
+slave, usually so acceptable a quality to the haughty slaveholder, was
+not understood nor desired by this gentle woman. So far from deeming it
+impudent in a slave to look her straight in the face, as some
+slaveholding ladies do, she seemed ever to say, “look up, child; don’t
+be afraid; see, I am full of kindness and good will toward you.” The
+hands belonging to Col. Lloyd’s sloop, esteemed it a great privilege to
+be the bearers of parcels or messages to my new mistress; for whenever
+they came, they were sure of a most kind and pleasant reception. If
+little Thomas was her son, and her most dearly beloved child, she, for
+a time, at least, made me something like his half-brother in her
+affections. If dear Tommy was exalted to a place on his mother’s knee,
+“Feddy” was honored by a place at his mother’s side. Nor did he lack
+the caressing strokes of her gentle hand, to convince him that, though
+_motherless_, he was not _friendless_. Mrs. Auld was not only a
+kind-hearted woman, but she was remarkably pious; frequent in her
+attendance of public worship, much given to reading the bible, and to
+chanting hymns of praise, when alone. Mr. Hugh Auld was altogether a
+different character. He cared very little about religion, knew more of
+the world, and was more of the world, than his wife. He set out,
+doubtless to be—as the world goes—a respectable man, and to get on by
+becoming a successful ship builder, in that city of ship building. This
+was his ambition, and it fully occupied him. I was, of course, of very
+little consequence to him, compared with what I was to good Mrs. Auld;
+and, when he smiled upon me, as he sometimes did, the smile was
+borrowed from his lovely wife, and, like all borrowed light, was
+transient, and vanished with the source whence it was derived. While I
+must characterize Master Hugh as being a very sour man, and of
+forbidding appearance, it is due to him to acknowledge, that he was
+never very cruel to me, according to the notion of cruelty in Maryland.
+The first year or two which I spent in his house, he left me almost
+exclusively to the management of his wife. She was my law-giver. In
+hands so tender as hers, and in the absence of the cruelties of the
+plantation, I became, both physically and mentally, much more sensitive
+to good and ill treatment; and, perhaps, suffered more from a frown
+from my mistress, than I formerly did from a cuff at the hands of Aunt
+Katy. Instead of the cold, damp floor of my old master’s kitchen, I
+found myself on carpets; for the corn bag in winter, I now had a good
+straw bed, well furnished with covers; for the coarse corn-meal in the
+morning, I now had good bread, and mush occasionally; for my poor
+tow-lien shirt, reaching to my knees, I had good, clean clothes. I was
+really well off. My employment was to run errands, and to take care of
+Tommy; to prevent his getting in the way of carriages, and to keep him
+out of harm’s way generally. Tommy, and I, and his mother, got on
+swimmingly together, for a time. I say _for a time_, because the fatal
+poison of irresponsible power, and the natural influence of slavery
+customs, were not long in making a suitable impression on the gentle
+and loving disposition of my excellent mistress. At first, Mrs. Auld
+evidently regarded me simply as a child, like any other child; she had
+not come to regard me as _property_. This latter thought was a thing of
+conventional growth. The first was natural and spontaneous. A noble
+nature, like hers, could not, instantly, be wholly perverted; and it
+took several years to change the natural sweetness of her temper into
+fretful bitterness. In her worst estate, however, there were, during
+the first seven years I lived with her, occasional returns of her
+former kindly disposition.
+
+The frequent hearing of my mistress reading the bible for she often
+read aloud when her husband was absent soon awakened my curiosity in
+respect to this _mystery_ of reading, and roused in me the desire to
+learn. Having no fear of my kind mistress before my eyes, (she had then
+given me no reason to fear,) I frankly asked her to teach me to read;
+and, without hesitation, the dear woman began the task, and very soon,
+by her assistance, I was master of the alphabet, and could spell words
+of three or four letters. My mistress seemed almost as proud of my
+progress, as if I had been her own child; and, supposing that her
+husband would be as well pleased, she made no secret of what she was
+doing for me. Indeed, she exultingly told him of the aptness of her
+pupil, of her intention to persevere in teaching me, and of the duty
+which she felt it to teach me, at least to read _the bible_. Here arose
+the first cloud over my Baltimore prospects, the precursor of drenching
+rains and chilling blasts.
+
+Master Hugh was amazed at the simplicity of his spouse, and, probably
+for the first time, he unfolded to her the true philosophy of slavery,
+and the peculiar rules necessary to be observed by masters and
+mistresses, in the management of their human chattels. Mr. Auld
+promptly forbade continuance of her instruction; telling her, in the
+first place, that the thing itself was unlawful; that it was also
+unsafe, and could only lead to mischief. To use his own words, further,
+he said, “if you give a nigger an inch, he will take an ell;” “he
+should know nothing but the will of his master, and learn to obey it.”
+“if you teach that nigger—speaking of myself—how to read the bible,
+there will be no keeping him;” “it would forever unfit him for the
+duties of a slave;” and “as to himself, learning would do him no good,
+but probably, a great deal of harm—making him disconsolate and
+unhappy.” “If you learn him now to read, he’ll want to know how to
+write; and, this accomplished, he’ll be running away with himself.”
+Such was the tenor of Master Hugh’s oracular exposition of the true
+philosophy of training a human chattel; and it must be confessed that
+he very clearly comprehended the nature and the requirements of the
+relation of master and slave. His discourse was the first decidedly
+anti-slavery lecture to which it had been my lot to listen. Mrs. Auld
+evidently felt the force of his remarks; and, like an obedient wife,
+began to shape her course in the direction indicated by her husband.
+The effect of his words, _on me_, was neither slight nor transitory.
+His iron sentences—cold and harsh—sunk deep into my heart, and stirred
+up not only my feelings into a sort of rebellion, but awakened within
+me a slumbering train of vital thought. It was a new and special
+revelation, dispelling a painful mystery, against which my youthful
+understanding had struggled, and struggled in vain, to wit: the _white_
+man’s power to perpetuate the enslavement of the _black_ man. “Very
+well,” thought I; “knowledge unfits a child to be a slave.” I
+instinctively assented to the proposition; and from that moment I
+understood the direct pathway from slavery to freedom. This was just
+what I needed; and I got it at a time, and from a source, whence I
+least expected it. I was saddened at the thought of losing the
+assistance of my kind mistress; but the information, so instantly
+derived, to some extent compensated me for the loss I had sustained in
+this direction. Wise as Mr. Auld was, he evidently underrated my
+comprehension, and had little idea of the use to which I was capable of
+putting the impressive lesson he was giving to his wife. _He_ wanted me
+to be _a slave;_ I had already voted against that on the home
+plantation of Col. Lloyd. That which he most loved I most hated; and
+the very determination which he expressed to keep me in ignorance, only
+rendered me the more resolute in seeking intelligence. In learning to
+read, therefore, I am not sure that I do not owe quite as much to the
+opposition of my master, as to the kindly assistance of my amiable
+mistress. I acknowledge the benefit rendered me by the one, and by the
+other; believing, that but for my mistress, I might have grown up in
+ignorance.
+
+I had resided but a short time in Baltimore, before I observed a marked
+difference in the manner of treating slaves, generally, from which I
+had witnessed in that isolated and out-of-the-way part of the country
+where I began life. A city slave is almost a free citizen, in
+Baltimore, compared with a slave on Col. Lloyd’s plantation. He is much
+better fed and clothed, is less dejected in his appearance, and enjoys
+privileges altogether unknown to the whip-driven slave on the
+plantation. Slavery dislikes a dense population, in which there is a
+majority of non-slaveholders. The general sense of decency that must
+pervade such a population, does much to check and prevent those
+outbreaks of atrocious cruelty, and those dark crimes without a name,
+almost openly perpetrated on the plantation. He is a desperate
+slaveholder who will shock the humanity of his non-slaveholding
+neighbors, by the cries of the lacerated slaves; and very few in the
+city are willing to incur the odium of being cruel masters. I found, in
+Baltimore, that no man was more odious to the white, as well as to the
+colored people, than he, who had the reputation of starving his slaves.
+Work them, flog them, if need be, but don’t starve them. These are,
+however, some painful exceptions to this rule. While it is quite true
+that most of the slaveholders in Baltimore feed and clothe their slaves
+well, there are others who keep up their country cruelties in the city.
+
+An instance of this sort is furnished in the case of a family who lived
+directly opposite to our house, and were named Hamilton. Mrs. Hamilton
+owned two slaves. Their names were Henrietta and Mary. They had always
+been house slaves. One was aged about twenty-two, and the other about
+fourteen. They were a fragile couple by nature, and the treatment they
+received was enough to break down the constitution of a horse. Of all
+the dejected, emaciated, mangled and excoriated creatures I ever saw,
+those two girls—in the refined, church going and Christian city of
+Baltimore were the most deplorable. Of stone must that heart be made,
+that could look upon Henrietta and Mary, without being sickened to the
+core with sadness. Especially was Mary a heart-sickening object. Her
+head, neck and shoulders, were literally cut to pieces. I have
+frequently felt her head, and found it nearly covered over with
+festering sores, caused by the lash of her cruel mistress. I do not
+know that her master ever whipped her, but I have often been an eye
+witness of the revolting and brutal inflictions by Mrs. Hamilton; and
+what lends a deeper shade to this woman’s conduct, is the fact, that,
+almost in the very moments of her shocking outrages of humanity and
+decency, she would charm you by the sweetness of her voice and her
+seeming piety. She used to sit in a large rocking chair, near the
+middle of the room, with a heavy cowskin, such as I have elsewhere
+described; and I speak within the truth when I say, that these girls
+seldom passed that chair, during the day, without a blow from that
+cowskin, either upon their bare arms, or upon their shoulders. As they
+passed her, she would draw her cowskin and give them a blow, saying,
+_“move faster, you black jip!”_ and, again, _“take that, you black
+jip!”_ continuing, _“if you don’t move faster, I will give you more.”_
+Then the lady would go on, singing her sweet hymns, as though her
+_righteous_ soul were sighing for the holy realms of paradise.
+
+Added to the cruel lashings to which these poor slave-girls were
+subjected—enough in themselves to crush the spirit of men—they were,
+really, kept nearly half starved; they seldom knew what it was to eat a
+full meal, except when they got it in the kitchens of neighbors, less
+mean and stingy than the psalm-singing Mrs. Hamilton. I have seen poor
+Mary contending for the offal, with the pigs in the street. So much was
+the poor girl pinched, kicked, cut and pecked to pieces, that the boys
+in the street knew her only by the name of _“pecked,”_ a name derived
+from the scars and blotches on her neck, head and shoulders.
+
+It is some relief to this picture of slavery in Baltimore, to say—what
+is but the simple truth—that Mrs. Hamilton’s treatment of her slaves
+was generally condemned, as disgraceful and shocking; but while I say
+this, it must also be remembered, that the very parties who censured
+the cruelty of Mrs. Hamilton, would have condemned and promptly
+punished any attempt to interfere with Mrs. Hamilton’s _right_ to cut
+and slash her slaves to pieces. There must be no force between the
+slave and the slaveholder, to restrain the power of the one, and
+protect the weakness of the other; and the cruelty of Mrs. Hamilton is
+as justly chargeable to the upholders of the slave system, as
+drunkenness is chargeable on those who, by precept and example, or by
+indifference, uphold the drinking system.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. _“A Change Came O’er the Spirit of My Dream”_
+
+
+HOW I LEARNED TO READ—MY MISTRESS—HER SLAVEHOLDING DUTIES—THEIR
+DEPLORABLE EFFECTS UPON HER ORIGINALLY NOBLE NATURE—THE CONFLICT IN HER
+MIND—HER FINAL OPPOSITION TO MY LEARNING TO READ—TOO LATE—SHE HAD GIVEN
+ME THE INCH, I WAS RESOLVED TO TAKE THE ELL—HOW I PURSUED MY
+EDUCATION—MY TUTORS—HOW I COMPENSATED THEM—WHAT PROGRESS I
+MADE—SLAVERY—WHAT I HEARD SAID ABOUT IT—THIRTEEN YEARS OLD—THE
+_Columbian Orator_—A RICH SCENE—A DIALOGUE—SPEECHES OF CHATHAM,
+SHERIDAN, PITT AND FOX—KNOWLEDGE EVER INCREASING—MY EYES
+OPENED—LIBERTY—HOW I PINED FOR IT—MY SADNESS—THE DISSATISFACTION OF MY
+POOR MISTRESS—MY HATRED OF SLAVERY—ONE UPAS TREE OVERSHADOWED US BOTH.
+
+
+I lived in the family of Master Hugh, at Baltimore, seven years, during
+which time—as the almanac makers say of the weather—my condition was
+variable. The most interesting feature of my history here, was my
+learning to read and write, under somewhat marked disadvantages. In
+attaining this knowledge, I was compelled to resort to indirections by
+no means congenial to my nature, and which were really humiliating to
+me. My mistress—who, as the reader has already seen, had begun to teach
+me was suddenly checked in her benevolent design, by the strong advice
+of her husband. In faithful compliance with this advice, the good lady
+had not only ceased to instruct me, herself, but had set her face as a
+flint against my learning to read by any means. It is due, however, to
+my mistress to say, that she did not adopt this course in all its
+stringency at the first. She either thought it unnecessary, or she
+lacked the depravity indispensable to shutting me up in mental
+darkness. It was, at least, necessary for her to have some training,
+and some hardening, in the exercise of the slaveholder’s prerogative,
+to make her equal to forgetting my human nature and character, and to
+treating me as a thing destitute of a moral or an intellectual nature.
+Mrs. Auld—my mistress—was, as I have said, a most kind and
+tender-hearted woman; and, in the humanity of her heart, and the
+simplicity of her mind, she set out, when I first went to live with
+her, to treat me as she supposed one human being ought to treat
+another.
+
+It is easy to see, that, in entering upon the duties of a slaveholder,
+some little experience is needed. Nature has done almost nothing to
+prepare men and women to be either slaves or slaveholders. Nothing but
+rigid training, long persisted in, can perfect the character of the one
+or the other. One cannot easily forget to love freedom; and it is as
+hard to cease to respect that natural love in our fellow creatures. On
+entering upon the career of a slaveholding mistress, Mrs. Auld was
+singularly deficient; nature, which fits nobody for such an office, had
+done less for her than any lady I had known. It was no easy matter to
+induce her to think and to feel that the curly-headed boy, who stood by
+her side, and even leaned on her lap; who was loved by little Tommy,
+and who loved little Tommy in turn; sustained to her only the relation
+of a chattel. I was _more_ than that, and she felt me to be more than
+that. I could talk and sing; I could laugh and weep; I could reason and
+remember; I could love and hate. I was human, and she, dear lady, knew
+and felt me to be so. How could she, then, treat me as a brute, without
+a mighty struggle with all the noble powers of her own soul. That
+struggle came, and the will and power of the husband was victorious.
+Her noble soul was overthrown; but, he that overthrew it did not,
+himself, escape the consequences. He, not less than the other parties,
+was injured in his domestic peace by the fall.
+
+When I went into their family, it was the abode of happiness and
+contentment. The mistress of the house was a model of affection and
+tenderness. Her fervent piety and watchful uprightness made it
+impossible to see her without thinking and feeling—“_that woman is a
+Christian_.” There was no sorrow nor suffering for which she had not a
+tear, and there was no innocent joy for which she did not a smile. She
+had bread for the hungry, clothes for the naked, and comfort for every
+mourner that came within her reach. Slavery soon proved its ability to
+divest her of these excellent qualities, and her home of its early
+happiness. Conscience cannot stand much violence. Once thoroughly
+broken down, _who_ is he that can repair the damage? It may be broken
+toward the slave, on Sunday, and toward the master on Monday. It cannot
+endure such shocks. It must stand entire, or it does not stand at all.
+If my condition waxed bad, that of the family waxed not better. The
+first step, in the wrong direction, was the violence done to nature and
+to conscience, in arresting the benevolence that would have enlightened
+my young mind. In ceasing to instruct me, she must begin to justify
+herself _to_ herself; and, once consenting to take sides in such a
+debate, she was riveted to her position. One needs very little
+knowledge of moral philosophy, to see _where_ my mistress now landed.
+She finally became even more violent in her opposition to my learning
+to read, than was her husband himself. She was not satisfied with
+simply doing as _well_ as her husband had commanded her, but seemed
+resolved to better his instruction. Nothing appeared to make my poor
+mistress—after her turning toward the downward path—more angry, than
+seeing me, seated in some nook or corner, quietly reading a book or a
+newspaper. I have had her rush at me, with the utmost fury, and snatch
+from my hand such newspaper or book, with something of the wrath and
+consternation which a traitor might be supposed to feel on being
+discovered in a plot by some dangerous spy.
+
+Mrs. Auld was an apt woman, and the advice of her husband, and her own
+experience, soon demonstrated, to her entire satisfaction, that
+education and slavery are incompatible with each other. When this
+conviction was thoroughly established, I was most narrowly watched in
+all my movements. If I remained in a separate room from the family for
+any considerable length of time, I was sure to be suspected of having a
+book, and was at once called upon to give an account of myself. All
+this, however, was entirely _too late_. The first, and never to be
+retraced, step had been taken. In teaching me the alphabet, in the days
+of her simplicity and kindness, my mistress had given me the _“inch,”_
+and now, no ordinary precaution could prevent me from taking the
+_“ell.”_
+
+Seized with a determination to learn to read, at any cost, I hit upon
+many expedients to accomplish the desired end. The plea which I mainly
+adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of using
+my young white playmates, with whom I met in the streets as teachers. I
+used to carry, almost constantly, a copy of Webster’s spelling book in
+my pocket; and, when sent of errands, or when play time was allowed me,
+I would step, with my young friends, aside, and take a lesson in
+spelling. I generally paid my _tuition fee_ to the boys, with bread,
+which I also carried in my pocket. For a single biscuit, any of my
+hungry little comrades would give me a lesson more valuable to me than
+bread. Not every one, however, demanded this consideration, for there
+were those who took pleasure in teaching me, whenever I had a chance to
+be taught by them. I am strongly tempted to give the names of two or
+three of those little boys, as a slight testimonial of the gratitude
+and affection I bear them, but prudence forbids; not that it would
+injure me, but it might, possibly, embarrass them; for it is almost an
+unpardonable offense to do any thing, directly or indirectly, to
+promote a slave’s freedom, in a slave state. It is enough to say, of my
+warm-hearted little play fellows, that they lived on Philpot street,
+very near Durgin & Bailey’s shipyard.
+
+Although slavery was a delicate subject, and very cautiously talked
+about among grown up people in Maryland, I frequently talked about
+it—and that very freely—with the white boys. I would, sometimes, say to
+them, while seated on a curb stone or a cellar door, “I wish I could be
+free, as you will be when you get to be men.” “You will be free, you
+know, as soon as you are twenty-one, and can go where you like, but I
+am a slave for life. Have I not as good a right to be free as you
+have?” Words like these, I observed, always troubled them; and I had no
+small satisfaction in wringing from the boys, occasionally, that fresh
+and bitter condemnation of slavery, that springs from nature, unseared
+and unperverted. Of all consciences let me have those to deal with
+which have not been bewildered by the cares of life. I do not remember
+ever to have met with a _boy_, while I was in slavery, who defended the
+slave system; but I have often had boys to console me, with the hope
+that something would yet occur, by which I might be made free. Over and
+over again, they have told me, that “they believed I had as good a
+right to be free as _they_ had;” and that “they did not believe God
+ever made any one to be a slave.” The reader will easily see, that such
+little conversations with my play fellows, had no tendency to weaken my
+love of liberty, nor to render me contented with my condition as a
+slave.
+
+When I was about thirteen years old, and had succeeded in learning to
+read, every increase of knowledge, especially respecting the FREE
+STATES, added something to the almost intolerable burden of the
+thought—I AM A SLAVE FOR LIFE. To my bondage I saw no end. It was a
+terrible reality, and I shall never be able to tell how sadly that
+thought chafed my young spirit. Fortunately, or unfortunately, about
+this time in my life, I had made enough money to buy what was then a
+very popular school book, viz: the _Columbian Orator_. I bought this
+addition to my library, of Mr. Knight, on Thames street, Fell’s Point,
+Baltimore, and paid him fifty cents for it. I was first led to buy this
+book, by hearing some little boys say they were going to learn some
+little pieces out of it for the Exhibition. This volume was, indeed, a
+rich treasure, and every opportunity afforded me, for a time, was spent
+in diligently perusing it. Among much other interesting matter, that
+which I had perused and reperused with unflagging satisfaction, was a
+short dialogue between a master and his slave. The slave is represented
+as having been recaptured, in a second attempt to run away; and the
+master opens the dialogue with an upbraiding speech, charging the slave
+with ingratitude, and demanding to know what he has to say in his own
+defense. Thus upbraided, and thus called upon to reply, the slave
+rejoins, that he knows how little anything that he can say will avail,
+seeing that he is completely in the hands of his owner; and with noble
+resolution, calmly says, “I submit to my fate.” Touched by the slave’s
+answer, the master insists upon his further speaking, and recapitulates
+the many acts of kindness which he has performed toward the slave, and
+tells him he is permitted to speak for himself. Thus invited to the
+debate, the quondam slave made a spirited defense of himself, and
+thereafter the whole argument, for and against slavery, was brought
+out. The master was vanquished at every turn in the argument; and
+seeing himself to be thus vanquished, he generously and meekly
+emancipates the slave, with his best wishes for his prosperity. It is
+scarcely neccessary(sic) to say, that a dialogue, with such an origin,
+and such an ending—read when the fact of my being a slave was a
+constant burden of grief—powerfully affected me; and I could not help
+feeling that the day might come, when the well-directed answers made by
+the slave to the master, in this instance, would find their counterpart
+in myself.
+
+This, however, was not all the fanaticism which I found in this
+_Columbian Orator_. I met there one of Sheridan’s mighty speeches, on
+the subject of Catholic Emancipation, Lord Chatham’s speech on the
+American war, and speeches by the great William Pitt and by Fox. These
+were all choice documents to me, and I read them, over and over again,
+with an interest that was ever increasing, because it was ever gaining
+in intelligence; for the more I read them, the better I understood
+them. The reading of these speeches added much to my limited stock of
+language, and enabled me to give tongue to many interesting thoughts,
+which had frequently flashed through my soul, and died away for want of
+utterance. The mighty power and heart-searching directness of truth,
+penetrating even the heart of a slaveholder, compelling him to yield up
+his earthly interests to the claims of eternal justice, were finely
+illustrated in the dialogue, just referred to; and from the speeches of
+Sheridan, I got a bold and powerful denunciation of oppression, and a
+most brilliant vindication of the rights of man. Here was, indeed, a
+noble acquisition. If I ever wavered under the consideration, that the
+Almighty, in some way, ordained slavery, and willed my enslavement for
+his own glory, I wavered no longer. I had now penetrated the secret of
+all slavery and oppression, and had ascertained their true foundation
+to be in the pride, the power and the avarice of man. The dialogue and
+the speeches were all redolent of the principles of liberty, and poured
+floods of light on the nature and character of slavery. With a book of
+this kind in my hand, my own human nature, and the facts of my
+experience, to help me, I was equal to a contest with the religious
+advocates of slavery, whether among the whites or among the colored
+people, for blindness, in this matter, is not confined to the former. I
+have met many religious colored people, at the south, who are under the
+delusion that God requires them to submit to slavery, and to wear their
+chains with meekness and humility. I could entertain no such nonsense
+as this; and I almost lost my patience when I found any colored man
+weak enough to believe such stuff. Nevertheless, the increase of
+knowledge was attended with bitter, as well as sweet results. The more
+I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest slavery, and my
+enslavers. “Slaveholders,” thought I, “are only a band of successful
+robbers, who left their homes and went into Africa for the purpose of
+stealing and reducing my people to slavery.” I loathed them as the
+meanest and the most wicked of men. As I read, behold! the very
+discontent so graphically predicted by Master Hugh, had already come
+upon me. I was no longer the light-hearted, gleesome boy, full of mirth
+and play, as when I landed first at Baltimore. Knowledge had come;
+light had penetrated the moral dungeon where I dwelt; and, behold!
+there lay the bloody whip, for my back, and here was the iron chain;
+and my good, _kind master_, he was the author of my situation. The
+revelation haunted me, stung me, and made me gloomy and miserable. As I
+writhed under the sting and torment of this knowledge, I almost envied
+my fellow slaves their stupid contentment. This knowledge opened my
+eyes to the horrible pit, and revealed the teeth of the frightful
+dragon that was ready to pounce upon me, but it opened no way for my
+escape. I have often wished myself a beast, or a bird—anything, rather
+than a slave. I was wretched and gloomy, beyond my ability to describe.
+I was too thoughtful to be happy. It was this everlasting thinking
+which distressed and tormented me; and yet there was no getting rid of
+the subject of my thoughts. All nature was redolent of it. Once
+awakened by the silver trump of knowledge, my spirit was roused to
+eternal wakefulness. Liberty! the inestimable birthright of every man,
+had, for me, converted every object into an asserter of this great
+right. It was heard in every sound, and beheld in every object. It was
+ever present, to torment me with a sense of my wretched condition. The
+more beautiful and charming were the smiles of nature, the more
+horrible and desolate was my condition. I saw nothing without seeing
+it, and I heard nothing without hearing it. I do not exaggerate, when I
+say, that it looked from every star, smiled in every calm, breathed in
+every wind, and moved in every storm.
+
+I have no doubt that my state of mind had something to do with the
+change in the treatment adopted, by my once kind mistress toward me. I
+can easily believe, that my leaden, downcast, and discontented look,
+was very offensive to her. Poor lady! She did not know my trouble, and
+I dared not tell her. Could I have freely made her acquainted with the
+real state of my mind, and given her the reasons therefor, it might
+have been well for both of us. Her abuse of me fell upon me like the
+blows of the false prophet upon his ass; she did not know that an
+_angel_ stood in the way; and—such is the relation of master and slave
+I could not tell her. Nature had made us _friends;_ slavery made us
+_enemies_. My interests were in a direction opposite to hers, and we
+both had our private thoughts and plans. She aimed to keep me ignorant;
+and I resolved to know, although knowledge only increased my
+discontent. My feelings were not the result of any marked cruelty in
+the treatment I received; they sprung from the consideration of my
+being a slave at all. It was _slavery_—not its mere _incidents_—that I
+hated. I had been cheated. I saw through the attempt to keep me in
+ignorance; I saw that slaveholders would have gladly made me believe
+that they were merely acting under the authority of God, in making a
+slave of me, and in making slaves of others; and I treated them as
+robbers and deceivers. The feeding and clothing me well, could not
+atone for taking my liberty from me. The smiles of my mistress could
+not remove the deep sorrow that dwelt in my young bosom. Indeed, these,
+in time, came only to deepen my sorrow. She had changed; and the reader
+will see that I had changed, too. We were both victims to the same
+overshadowing evil—_she_, as mistress, I, as slave. I will not censure
+her harshly; she cannot censure me, for she knows I speak but the
+truth, and have acted in my opposition to slavery, just as she herself
+would have acted, in a reverse of circumstances.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. _Religious Nature Awakened_
+
+
+ABOLITIONISTS SPOKEN OF—MY EAGERNESS TO KNOW WHAT THIS WORD MEANT—MY
+CONSULTATION OF THE DICTIONARY—INCENDIARY INFORMATION—HOW AND WHERE
+DERIVED—THE ENIGMA SOLVED—NATHANIEL TURNER’S INSURRECTION—THE
+CHOLERA—RELIGION—FIRST AWAKENED BY A METHODIST MINISTER NAMED HANSON—MY
+DEAR AND GOOD OLD COLORED FRIEND, LAWSON—HIS CHARACTER AND
+OCCUPATION—HIS INFLUENCE OVER ME—OUR MUTUAL ATTACHMENT—THE COMFORT I
+DERIVED FROM HIS TEACHING—NEW HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS—HEAVENLY LIGHT
+AMIDST EARTHLY DARKNESS—THE TWO IRISHMEN ON THE WHARF—THEIR
+CONVERSATION—HOW I LEARNED TO WRITE—WHAT WERE MY AIMS.
+
+
+Whilst in the painful state of mind described in the foregoing chapter,
+almost regretting my very existence, because doomed to a life of
+bondage, so goaded and so wretched, at times, that I was even tempted
+to destroy my own life, I was keenly sensitive and eager to know any,
+and every thing that transpired, having any relation to the subject of
+slavery. I was all ears, all eyes, whenever the words _slave, slavery_,
+dropped from the lips of any white person, and the occasions were not
+unfrequent when these words became leading ones, in high, social
+debate, at our house. Every little while, I could hear Master Hugh, or
+some of his company, speaking with much warmth and excitement about
+_“abolitionists.”_ Of _who_ or _what_ these were, I was totally
+ignorant. I found, however, that whatever they might be, they were most
+cordially hated and soundly abused by slaveholders, of every grade. I
+very soon discovered, too, that slavery was, in some sort, under
+consideration, whenever the abolitionists were alluded to. This made
+the term a very interesting one to me. If a slave, for instance, had
+made good his escape from slavery, it was generally alleged, that he
+had been persuaded and assisted by the abolitionists. If, also, a slave
+killed his master—as was sometimes the case—or struck down his
+overseer, or set fire to his master’s dwelling, or committed any
+violence or crime, out of the common way, it was certain to be said,
+that such a crime was the legitimate fruits of the abolition movement.
+Hearing such charges often repeated, I, naturally enough, received the
+impression that abolition—whatever else it might be—could not be
+unfriendly to the slave, nor very friendly to the slaveholder. I
+therefore set about finding out, if possible, _who_ and _what_ the
+abolitionists were, and _why_ they were so obnoxious to the
+slaveholders. The dictionary afforded me very little help. It taught me
+that abolition was the “act of abolishing;” but it left me in ignorance
+at the very point where I most wanted information—and that was, as to
+the _thing_ to be abolished. A city newspaper, the _Baltimore
+American_, gave me the incendiary information denied me by the
+dictionary. In its columns I found, that, on a certain day, a vast
+number of petitions and memorials had been presented to congress,
+praying for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, and
+for the abolition of the slave trade between the states of the Union.
+This was enough. The vindictive bitterness, the marked caution, the
+studied reverse, and the cumbrous ambiguity, practiced by our white
+folks, when alluding to this subject, was now fully explained. Ever,
+after that, when I heard the words “abolition,” or “abolition
+movement,” mentioned, I felt the matter one of a personal concern; and
+I drew near to listen, when I could do so, without seeming too
+solicitous and prying. There was HOPE in those words. Ever and anon,
+too, I could see some terrible denunciation of slavery, in our
+papers—copied from abolition papers at the north—and the injustice of
+such denunciation commented on. These I read with avidity. I had a deep
+satisfaction in the thought, that the rascality of slaveholders was not
+concealed from the eyes of the world, and that I was not alone in
+abhorring the cruelty and brutality of slavery. A still deeper train of
+thought was stirred. I saw that there was _fear_, as well as _rage_, in
+the manner of speaking of the abolitionists. The latter, therefore, I
+was compelled to regard as having some power in the country; and I felt
+that they might, possibly, succeed in their designs. When I met with a
+slave to whom I deemed it safe to talk on the subject, I would impart
+to him so much of the mystery as I had been able to penetrate. Thus,
+the light of this grand movement broke in upon my mind, by degrees; and
+I must say, that, ignorant as I then was of the philosophy of that
+movement, I believe in it from the first—and I believed in it, partly,
+because I saw that it alarmed the consciences of slaveholders. The
+insurrection of Nathaniel Turner had been quelled, but the alarm and
+terror had not subsided. The cholera was on its way, and the thought
+was present, that God was angry with the white people because of their
+slaveholding wickedness, and, therefore, his judgments were abroad in
+the land. It was impossible for me not to hope much from the abolition
+movement, when I saw it supported by the Almighty, and armed with
+DEATH!
+
+Previous to my contemplation of the anti-slavery movement, and its
+probable results, my mind had been seriously awakened to the subject of
+religion. I was not more than thirteen years old, when I felt the need
+of God, as a father and protector. My religious nature was awakened by
+the preaching of a white Methodist minister, named Hanson. He thought
+that all men, great and small, bond and free, were sinners in the sight
+of God; that they were, by nature, rebels against His government; and
+that they must repent of their sins, and be reconciled to God, through
+Christ. I cannot say that I had a very distinct notion of what was
+required of me; but one thing I knew very well—I was wretched, and had
+no means of making myself otherwise. Moreover, I knew that I could pray
+for light. I consulted a good colored man, named Charles Johnson; and,
+in tones of holy affection, he told me to pray, and what to pray for. I
+was, for weeks, a poor, brokenhearted mourner, traveling through the
+darkness and misery of doubts and fears. I finally found that change of
+heart which comes by “casting all one’s care” upon God, and by having
+faith in Jesus Christ, as the Redeemer, Friend, and Savior of those who
+diligently seek Him.
+
+After this, I saw the world in a new light. I seemed to live in a new
+world, surrounded by new objects, and to be animated by new hopes and
+desires. I loved all mankind—slaveholders not excepted; though I
+abhorred slavery more than ever. My great concern was, now, to have the
+world converted. The desire for knowledge increased, and especially did
+I want a thorough acquaintance with the contents of the bible. I have
+gathered scattered pages from this holy book, from the filthy street
+gutters of Baltimore, and washed and dried them, that in the moments of
+my leisure, I might get a word or two of wisdom from them. While thus
+religiously seeking knowledge, I became acquainted with a good old
+colored man, named Lawson. A more devout man than he, I never saw. He
+drove a dray for Mr. James Ramsey, the owner of a rope-walk on Fell’s
+Point, Baltimore. This man not only prayed three time a day, but he
+prayed as he walked through the streets, at his work—on his dray
+everywhere. His life was a life of prayer, and his words (when he spoke
+to his friends,) were about a better world. Uncle Lawson lived near
+Master Hugh’s house; and, becoming deeply attached to the old man, I
+went often with him to prayer-meeting, and spent much of my leisure
+time with him on Sunday. The old man could read a little, and I was a
+great help to him, in making out the hard words, for I was a better
+reader than he. I could teach him _“the letter,”_ but he could teach me
+_“the spirit;”_ and high, refreshing times we had together, in singing,
+praying and glorifying God. These meetings with Uncle Lawson went on
+for a long time, without the knowledge of Master Hugh or my mistress.
+Both knew, however, that I had become religious, and they seemed to
+respect my conscientious piety. My mistress was still a professor of
+religion, and belonged to class. Her leader was no less a person than
+the Rev. Beverly Waugh, the presiding elder, and now one of the bishops
+of the Methodist Episcopal church. Mr. Waugh was then stationed over
+Wilk street church. I am careful to state these facts, that the reader
+may be able to form an idea of the precise influences which had to do
+with shaping and directing my mind.
+
+In view of the cares and anxieties incident to the life she was then
+leading, and, especially, in view of the separation from religious
+associations to which she was subjected, my mistress had, as I have
+before stated, become lukewarm, and needed to be looked up by her
+leader. This brought Mr. Waugh to our house, and gave me an opportunity
+to hear him exhort and pray. But my chief instructor, in matters of
+religion, was Uncle Lawson. He was my spiritual father; and I loved him
+intensely, and was at his house every chance I got.
+
+This pleasure was not long allowed me. Master Hugh became averse to my
+going to Father Lawson’s, and threatened to whip me if I ever went
+there again. I now felt myself persecuted by a wicked man; and I
+_would_ go to Father Lawson’s, notwithstanding the threat. The good old
+man had told me, that the “Lord had a great work for me to do;” and I
+must prepare to do it; and that he had been shown that I must preach
+the gospel. His words made a deep impression on my mind, and I verily
+felt that some such work was before me, though I could not see _how_ I
+should ever engage in its performance. “The good Lord,” he said, “would
+bring it to pass in his own good time,” and that I must go on reading
+and studying the scriptures. The advice and the suggestions of Uncle
+Lawson, were not without their influence upon my character and destiny.
+He threw my thoughts into a channel from which they have never entirely
+diverged. He fanned my already intense love of knowledge into a flame,
+by assuring me that I was to be a useful man in the world. When I would
+say to him, “How can these things be and what can _I_ do?” his simple
+reply was, _“Trust in the Lord.”_ When I told him that “I was a slave,
+and a slave FOR LIFE,” he said, “the Lord can make you free, my dear.
+All things are possible with him, only _have faith in God.”_ “Ask, and
+it shall be given.” “If you want liberty,” said the good old man, “ask
+the Lord for it, _in faith_, AND HE WILL GIVE IT TO YOU.”
+
+Thus assured, and cheered on, under the inspiration of hope, I worked
+and prayed with a light heart, believing that my life was under the
+guidance of a wisdom higher than my own. With all other blessings
+sought at the mercy seat, I always prayed that God would, of His great
+mercy, and in His own good time, deliver me from my bondage.
+
+I went, one day, on the wharf of Mr. Waters; and seeing two Irishmen
+unloading a large scow of stone, or ballast I went on board, unasked,
+and helped them. When we had finished the work, one of the men came to
+me, aside, and asked me a number of questions, and among them, if I
+were a slave. I told him “I was a slave, and a slave for life.” The
+good Irishman gave his shoulders a shrug, and seemed deeply affected by
+the statement. He said, “it was a pity so fine a little fellow as
+myself should be a slave for life.” They both had much to say about the
+matter, and expressed the deepest sympathy with me, and the most
+decided hatred of slavery. They went so far as to tell me that I ought
+to run away, and go to the north; that I should find friends there, and
+that I would be as free as anybody. I, however, pretended not to be
+interested in what they said, for I feared they might be treacherous.
+White men have been known to encourage slaves to escape, and then—to
+get the reward—they have kidnapped them, and returned them to their
+masters. And while I mainly inclined to the notion that these men were
+honest and meant me no ill, I feared it might be otherwise. I
+nevertheless remembered their words and their advice, and looked
+forward to an escape to the north, as a possible means of gaining the
+liberty for which my heart panted. It was not my enslavement, at the
+then present time, that most affected me; the being a slave _for life_,
+was the saddest thought. I was too young to think of running away
+immediately; besides, I wished to learn how to write, before going, as
+I might have occasion to write my own pass. I now not only had the hope
+of freedom, but a foreshadowing of the means by which I might, some
+day, gain that inestimable boon. Meanwhile, I resolved to add to my
+educational attainments the art of writing.
+
+After this manner I began to learn to write: I was much in the ship
+yard—Master Hugh’s, and that of Durgan & Bailey—and I observed that the
+carpenters, after hewing and getting a piece of timber ready for use,
+wrote on it the initials of the name of that part of the ship for which
+it was intended. When, for instance, a piece of timber was ready for
+the starboard side, it was marked with a capital “S.” A piece for the
+larboard side was marked “L;” larboard forward, “L. F.;” larboard aft,
+was marked “L. A.;” starboard aft, “S. A.;” and starboard forward “S.
+F.” I soon learned these letters, and for what they were placed on the
+timbers.
+
+My work was now, to keep fire under the steam box, and to watch the
+ship yard while the carpenters had gone to dinner. This interval gave
+me a fine opportunity for copying the letters named. I soon astonished
+myself with the ease with which I made the letters; and the thought was
+soon present, “if I can make four, I can make more.” But having made
+these easily, when I met boys about Bethel church, or any of our
+play-grounds, I entered the lists with them in the art of writing, and
+would make the letters which I had been so fortunate as to learn, and
+ask them to “beat that if they could.” With playmates for my teachers,
+fences and pavements for my copy books, and chalk for my pen and ink, I
+learned the art of writing. I, however, afterward adopted various
+methods of improving my hand. The most successful, was copying the
+_italics_ in Webster’s spelling book, until I could make them all
+without looking on the book. By this time, my little “Master Tommy” had
+grown to be a big boy, and had written over a number of copy books, and
+brought them home. They had been shown to the neighbors, had elicited
+due praise, and were now laid carefully away. Spending my time between
+the ship yard and house, I was as often the lone keeper of the latter
+as of the former. When my mistress left me in charge of the house, I
+had a grand time; I got Master Tommy’s copy books and a pen and ink,
+and, in the ample spaces between the lines, I wrote other lines, as
+nearly like his as possible. The process was a tedious one, and I ran
+the risk of getting a flogging for marring the highly prized copy books
+of the oldest son. In addition to those opportunities, sleeping, as I
+did, in the kitchen loft—a room seldom visited by any of the family—I
+got a flour barrel up there, and a chair; and upon the head of that
+barrel I have written (or endeavored to write) copying from the bible
+and the Methodist hymn book, and other books which had accumulated on
+my hands, till late at night, and when all the family were in bed and
+asleep. I was supported in my endeavors by renewed advice, and by holy
+promises from the good Father Lawson, with whom I continued to meet,
+and pray, and read the scriptures. Although Master Hugh was aware of my
+going there, I must say, for his credit, that he never executed his
+threat to whip me, for having thus, innocently, employed-my leisure
+time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. _The Vicissitudes of Slave Life_
+
+
+DEATH OF OLD MASTER’S SON RICHARD, SPEEDILY FOLLOWED BY THAT OF OLD
+MASTER—VALUATION AND DIVISION OF ALL THE PROPERTY, INCLUDING THE
+SLAVES—MY PRESENCE REQUIRED AT HILLSBOROUGH TO BE APPRAISED AND
+ALLOTTED TO A NEW OWNER—MY SAD PROSPECTS AND GRIEF—PARTING—THE UTTER
+POWERLESSNESS OF THE SLAVES TO DECIDE THEIR OWN DESTINY—A GENERAL DREAD
+OF MASTER ANDREW—HIS WICKEDNESS AND CRUELTY—MISS LUCRETIA MY NEW
+OWNER—MY RETURN TO BALTIMORE—JOY UNDER THE ROOF OF MASTER HUGH—DEATH OF
+MRS. LUCRETIA—MY POOR OLD GRANDMOTHER—HER SAD FATE—THE LONE COT IN THE
+WOODS—MASTER THOMAS AULD’S SECOND MARRIAGE—AGAIN REMOVED FROM MASTER
+HUGH’S—REASONS FOR REGRETTING THE CHANGE—A PLAN OF ESCAPE ENTERTAINED.
+
+
+I must now ask the reader to go with me a little back in point of time,
+in my humble story, and to notice another circumstance that entered
+into my slavery experience, and which, doubtless, has had a share in
+deepening my horror of slavery, and increasing my hostility toward
+those men and measures that practically uphold the slave system.
+
+It has already been observed, that though I was, after my removal from
+Col. Lloyd’s plantation, in _form_ the slave of Master Hugh, I was, in
+_fact_, and in _law_, the slave of my old master, Capt. Anthony. Very
+well.
+
+In a very short time after I went to Baltimore, my old master’s
+youngest son, Richard, died; and, in three years and six months after
+his death, my old master himself died, leaving only his son, Andrew,
+and his daughter, Lucretia, to share his estate. The old man died while
+on a visit to his daughter, in Hillsborough, where Capt. Auld and Mrs.
+Lucretia now lived. The former, having given up the command of Col.
+Lloyd’s sloop, was now keeping a store in that town.
+
+Cut off, thus unexpectedly, Capt. Anthony died intestate; and his
+property must now be equally divided between his two children, Andrew
+and Lucretia.
+
+The valuation and the division of slaves, among contending heirs, is an
+important incident in slave life. The character and tendencies of the
+heirs, are generally well understood among the slaves who are to be
+divided, and all have their aversions and preferences. But, neither
+their aversions nor their preferences avail them anything.
+
+On the death of old master, I was immediately sent for, to be valued
+and divided with the other property. Personally, my concern was,
+mainly, about my possible removal from the home of Master Hugh, which,
+after that of my grandmother, was the most endeared to me. But, the
+whole thing, as a feature of slavery, shocked me. It furnished me anew
+insight into the unnatural power to which I was subjected. My
+detestation of slavery, already great, rose with this new conception of
+its enormity.
+
+That was a sad day for me, a sad day for little Tommy, and a sad day
+for my dear Baltimore mistress and teacher, when I left for the Eastern
+Shore, to be valued and divided. We, all three, wept bitterly that day;
+for we might be parting, and we feared we were parting, forever. No one
+could tell among which pile of chattels I should be flung. Thus early,
+I got a foretaste of that painful uncertainty which slavery brings to
+the ordinary lot of mortals. Sickness, adversity and death may
+interfere with the plans and purposes of all; but the slave has the
+added danger of changing homes, changing hands, and of having
+separations unknown to other men. Then, too, there was the intensified
+degradation of the spectacle. What an assemblage! Men and women, young
+and old, married and single; moral and intellectual beings, in open
+contempt of their humanity, level at a blow with horses, sheep, horned
+cattle and swine! Horses and men—cattle and women—pigs and children—all
+holding the same rank in the scale of social existence; and all
+subjected to the same narrow inspection, to ascertain their value in
+gold and silver—the only standard of worth applied by slaveholders to
+slaves! How vividly, at that moment, did the brutalizing power of
+slavery flash before me! Personality swallowed up in the sordid idea of
+property! Manhood lost in chattelhood!
+
+After the valuation, then came the division. This was an hour of high
+excitement and distressing anxiety. Our destiny was now to be _fixed
+for life_, and we had no more voice in the decision of the question,
+than the oxen and cows that stood chewing at the haymow. One word from
+the appraisers, against all preferences or prayers, was enough to
+sunder all the ties of friendship and affection, and even to separate
+husbands and wives, parents and children. We were all appalled before
+that power, which, to human seeming, could bless or blast us in a
+moment. Added to the dread of separation, most painful to the majority
+of the slaves, we all had a decided horror of the thought of falling
+into the hands of Master Andrew. He was distinguished for cruelty and
+intemperance.
+
+Slaves generally dread to fall into the hands of drunken owners. Master
+Andrew was almost a confirmed sot, and had already, by his reckless
+mismanagement and profligate dissipation, wasted a large portion of old
+master’s property. To fall into his hands, was, therefore, considered
+merely as the first step toward being sold away to the far south. He
+would spend his fortune in a few years, and his farms and slaves would
+be sold, we thought, at public outcry; and we should be hurried away to
+the cotton fields, and rice swamps, of the sunny south. This was the
+cause of deep consternation.
+
+The people of the north, and free people generally, I think, have less
+attachment to the places where they are born and brought up, than have
+the slaves. Their freedom to go and come, to be here and there, as they
+list, prevents any extravagant attachment to any one particular place,
+in their case. On the other hand, the slave is a fixture; he has no
+choice, no goal, no destination; but is pegged down to a single spot,
+and must take root here, or nowhere. The idea of removal elsewhere,
+comes, generally, in the shape of a threat, and in punishment of crime.
+It is, therefore, attended with fear and dread. A slave seldom thinks
+of bettering his condition by being sold, and hence he looks upon
+separation from his native place, with none of the enthusiasm which
+animates the bosoms of young freemen, when they contemplate a life in
+the far west, or in some distant country where they intend to rise to
+wealth and distinction. Nor can those from whom they separate, give
+them up with that cheerfulness with which friends and relations yield
+each other up, when they feel that it is for the good of the departing
+one that he is removed from his native place. Then, too, there is
+correspondence, and there is, at least, the hope of reunion, because
+reunion is _possible_. But, with the slave, all these mitigating
+circumstances are wanting. There is no improvement in his condition
+_probable_,—no correspondence _possible_,—no reunion attainable. His
+going out into the world, is like a living man going into the tomb,
+who, with open eyes, sees himself buried out of sight and hearing of
+wife, children and friends of kindred tie.
+
+In contemplating the likelihoods and possibilities of our
+circumstances, I probably suffered more than most of my fellow
+servants. I had known what it was to experience kind, and even tender
+treatment; they had known nothing of the sort. Life, to them, had been
+rough and thorny, as well as dark. They had—most of them—lived on my
+old master’s farm in Tuckahoe, and had felt the reign of Mr. Plummer’s
+rule. The overseer had written his character on the living parchment of
+most of their backs, and left them callous; my back (thanks to my early
+removal from the plantation to Baltimore) was yet tender. I had left a
+kind mistress at Baltimore, who was almost a mother to me. She was in
+tears when we parted, and the probabilities of ever seeing her again,
+trembling in the balance as they did, could not be viewed without alarm
+and agony. The thought of leaving that kind mistress forever, and,
+worse still, of being the slave of Andrew Anthony—a man who, but a few
+days before the division of the property, had, in my presence, seized
+my brother Perry by the throat, dashed him on the ground, and with the
+heel of his boot stamped him on the head, until the blood gushed from
+his nose and ears—was terrible! This fiendish proceeding had no better
+apology than the fact, that Perry had gone to play, when Master Andrew
+wanted him for some trifling service. This cruelty, too, was of a piece
+with his general character. After inflicting his heavy blows on my
+brother, on observing me looking at him with intense astonishment, he
+said, “_That_ is the way I will serve you, one of these days;” meaning,
+no doubt, when I should come into his possession. This threat, the
+reader may well suppose, was not very tranquilizing to my feelings. I
+could see that he really thirsted to get hold of me. But I was there
+only for a few days. I had not received any orders, and had violated
+none, and there was, therefore, no excuse for flogging me.
+
+At last, the anxiety and suspense were ended; and they ended, thanks to
+a kind Providence, in accordance with my wishes. I fell to the portion
+of Mrs. Lucretia—the dear lady who bound up my head, when the savage
+Aunt Katy was adding to my sufferings her bitterest maledictions.
+
+Capt. Thomas Auld and Mrs. Lucretia at once decided on my return to
+Baltimore. They knew how sincerely and warmly Mrs. Hugh Auld was
+attached to me, and how delighted Mr. Hugh’s son would be to have me
+back; and, withal, having no immediate use for one so young, they
+willingly let me off to Baltimore.
+
+I need not stop here to narrate my joy on returning to Baltimore, nor
+that of little Tommy; nor the tearful joy of his mother; nor the
+evident saticfaction(sic) of Master Hugh. I was just one month absent
+from Baltimore, before the matter was decided; and the time really
+seemed full six months.
+
+One trouble over, and on comes another. The slave’s life is full of
+uncertainty. I had returned to Baltimore but a short time, when the
+tidings reached me, that my friend, Mrs. Lucretia, who was only second
+in my regard to Mrs. Hugh Auld, was dead, leaving her husband and only
+one child—a daughter, named Amanda.
+
+Shortly after the death of Mrs. Lucretia, strange to say, Master Andrew
+died, leaving his wife and one child. Thus, the whole family of
+Anthonys was swept away; only two children remained. All this happened
+within five years of my leaving Col. Lloyd’s.
+
+No alteration took place in the condition of the slaves, in consequence
+of these deaths, yet I could not help feeling less secure, after the
+death of my friend, Mrs. Lucretia, than I had done during her life.
+While she lived, I felt that I had a strong friend to plead for me in
+any emergency. Ten years ago, while speaking of the state of things in
+our family, after the events just named, I used this language:
+
+Now all the property of my old master, slaves included, was in the
+hands of strangers—strangers who had nothing to do in accumulating it.
+Not a slave was left free. All remained slaves, from youngest to
+oldest. If any one thing in my experience, more than another, served to
+deepen my conviction of the infernal character of slavery, and to fill
+me with unutterable loathing of slaveholders, it was their base
+ingratitude to my poor old grandmother. She had served my old master
+faithfully from youth to old age. She had been the source of all his
+wealth; she had peopled his plantation with slaves; she had become a
+great-grandmother in his service. She had rocked him in infancy,
+attended him in childhood, served him through life, and at his death
+wiped from his icy brow the cold death-sweat, and closed his eyes
+forever. She was nevertheless left a slave—a slave for life—a slave in
+the hands of strangers; and in their hands she saw her children, her
+grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren, divided, like so many
+sheep, without being gratified with the small privilege of a single
+word, as to their or her own destiny. And, to cap the climax of their
+base ingratitude and fiendish barbarity, my grandmother, who was now
+very old, having outlived my old master and all his children, having
+seen the beginning and end of all of them, and her present owners
+finding she was of but little value, her frame already racked with the
+pains of old age, and complete helplessness fast stealing over her once
+active limbs, they took her to the woods, built her a little hut, put
+up a little mud-chimney, and then made her welcome to the privilege of
+supporting herself there in perfect loneliness; thus virtually turning
+her out to die! If my poor old grandmother now lives, she lives to
+suffer in utter loneliness; she lives to remember and mourn over the
+loss of children, the loss of grandchildren, and the loss of
+great-grandchildren. They are, in the language of the slave’s poet,
+Whittier—
+
+Gone, gone, sold and gone,
+To the rice swamp dank and lone,
+Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings,
+Where the noisome insect stings,
+Where the fever-demon strews
+Poison with the falling dews,
+Where the sickly sunbeams glare
+Through the hot and misty air:—
+          Gone, gone, sold and gone
+          To the rice swamp dank and lone,
+          From Virginia hills and waters—
+          Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
+
+
+The hearth is desolate. The children, the unconscious children, who
+once sang and danced in her presence, are gone. She gropes her way, in
+the darkness of age, for a drink of water. Instead of the voices of her
+children, she hears by day the moans of the dove, and by night the
+screams of the hideous owl. All is gloom. The grave is at the door. And
+now, when weighed down by the pains and aches of old age, when the head
+inclines to the feet, when the beginning and ending of human existence
+meet, and helpless infancy and painful old age combine together—at this
+time, this most needful time, the time for the exercise of that
+tenderness and affection which children only can exercise toward a
+declining parent—my poor old grandmother, the devoted mother of twelve
+children, is left all alone, in yonder little hut, before a few dim
+embers.
+
+Two years after the death of Mrs. Lucretia, Master Thomas married his
+second wife. Her name was Rowena Hamilton, the eldest daughter of Mr.
+William Hamilton, a rich slaveholder on the Eastern Shore of Maryland,
+who lived about five miles from St. Michael’s, the then place of my
+master’s residence.
+
+Not long after his marriage, Master Thomas had a misunderstanding with
+Master Hugh, and, as a means of punishing his brother, he ordered him
+to send me home.
+
+As the ground of misunderstanding will serve to illustrate the
+character of southern chivalry, and humanity, I will relate it.
+
+Among the children of my Aunt Milly, was a daughter, named Henny. When
+quite a child, Henny had fallen into the fire, and burnt her hands so
+bad that they were of very little use to her. Her fingers were drawn
+almost into the palms of her hands. She could make out to do something,
+but she was considered hardly worth the having—of little more value
+than a horse with a broken leg. This unprofitable piece of human
+property, ill shapen, and disfigured, Capt. Auld sent off to Baltimore,
+making his brother Hugh welcome to her services.
+
+After giving poor Henny a fair trial, Master Hugh and his wife came to
+the conclusion, that they had no use for the crippled servant, and they
+sent her back to Master Thomas. Thus, the latter took as an act of
+ingratitude, on the part of his brother; and, as a mark of his
+displeasure, he required him to send me immediately to St. Michael’s,
+saying, if he cannot keep _“Hen,”_ he shall not have _“Fred.”_
+
+Here was another shock to my nerves, another breaking up of my plans,
+and another severance of my religious and social alliances. I was now a
+big boy. I had become quite useful to several young colored men, who
+had made me their teacher. I had taught some of them to read, and was
+accustomed to spend many of my leisure hours with them. Our attachment
+was strong, and I greatly dreaded the separation. But regrets,
+especially in a slave, are unavailing. I was only a slave; my wishes
+were nothing, and my happiness was the sport of my masters.
+
+My regrets at now leaving Baltimore, were not for the same reasons as
+when I before left that city, to be valued and handed over to my proper
+owner. My home was not now the pleasant place it had formerly been. A
+change had taken place, both in Master Hugh, and in his once pious and
+affectionate wife. The influence of brandy and bad company on him, and
+the influence of slavery and social isolation upon her, had wrought
+disastrously upon the characters of both. Thomas was no longer “little
+Tommy,” but was a big boy, and had learned to assume the airs of his
+class toward me. My condition, therefore, in the house of Master Hugh,
+was not, by any means, so comfortable as in former years. My
+attachments were now outside of our family. They were felt to those to
+whom I _imparted_ instruction, and to those little white boys from whom
+I _received_ instruction. There, too, was my dear old father, the pious
+Lawson, who was, in christian graces, the very counterpart of “Uncle”
+Tom. The resemblance is so perfect, that he might have been the
+original of Mrs. Stowe’s christian hero. The thought of leaving these
+dear friends, greatly troubled me, for I was going without the hope of
+ever returning to Baltimore again; the feud between Master Hugh and his
+brother being bitter and irreconcilable, or, at least, supposed to be
+so.
+
+In addition to thoughts of friends from whom I was parting, as I
+supposed, _forever_, I had the grief of neglected chances of escape to
+brood over. I had put off running away, until now I was to be placed
+where the opportunities for escaping were much fewer than in a large
+city like Baltimore.
+
+On my way from Baltimore to St. Michael’s, down the Chesapeake bay, our
+sloop—the “Amanda”—was passed by the steamers plying between that city
+and Philadelphia, and I watched the course of those steamers, and,
+while going to St. Michael’s, I formed a plan to escape from slavery;
+of which plan, and matters connected therewith the kind reader shall
+learn more hereafter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. _Experience in St. Michael’s_
+
+
+THE VILLAGE—ITS INHABITANTS—THEIR OCCUPATION AND LOW PROPENSITIES
+CAPTAN(sic) THOMAS AULD—HIS CHARACTER—HIS SECOND WIFE, ROWENA—WELL
+MATCHED—SUFFERINGS FROM HUNGER—OBLIGED TO TAKE FOOD—MODE OF ARGUMENT IN
+VINDICATION THEREOF—NO MORAL CODE OF FREE SOCIETY CAN APPLY TO SLAVE
+SOCIETY—SOUTHERN CAMP MEETING—WHAT MASTER THOMAS DID
+THERE—HOPES—SUSPICIONS ABOUT HIS CONVERSION—THE RESULT—FAITH AND WORKS
+ENTIRELY AT VARIANCE—HIS RISE AND PROGRESS IN THE CHURCH—POOR COUSIN
+“HENNY”—HIS TREATMENT OF HER—THE METHODIST PREACHERS—THEIR UTTER
+DISREGARD OF US—ONE EXCELLENT EXCEPTION—REV. GEORGE COOKMAN—SABBATH
+SCHOOL—HOW BROKEN UP AND BY WHOM—A FUNERAL PALL CAST OVER ALL MY
+PROSPECTS—COVEY THE NEGRO-BREAKER.
+
+
+St. Michael’s, the village in which was now my new home, compared
+favorably with villages in slave states, generally. There were a few
+comfortable dwellings in it, but the place, as a whole, wore a dull,
+slovenly, enterprise-forsaken aspect. The mass of the buildings were
+wood; they had never enjoyed the artificial adornment of paint, and
+time and storms had worn off the bright color of the wood, leaving them
+almost as black as buildings charred by a conflagration.
+
+St. Michael’s had, in former years, (previous to 1833, for that was the
+year I went to reside there,) enjoyed some reputation as a ship
+building community, but that business had almost entirely given place
+to oyster fishing, for the Baltimore and Philadelphia markets—a course
+of life highly unfavorable to morals, industry, and manners. Miles
+river was broad, and its oyster fishing grounds were extensive; and the
+fishermen were out, often, all day, and a part of the night, during
+autumn, winter and spring. This exposure was an excuse for carrying
+with them, in considerable quanties(sic), spirituous liquors, the then
+supposed best antidote for cold. Each canoe was supplied with its jug
+of rum; and tippling, among this class of the citizens of St.
+Michael’s, became general. This drinking habit, in an ignorant
+population, fostered coarseness, vulgarity and an indolent disregard
+for the social improvement of the place, so that it was admitted, by
+the few sober, thinking people who remained there, that St. Michael’s
+had become a very _unsaintly_, as well as unsightly place, before I
+went there to reside.
+
+I left Baltimore for St. Michael’s in the month of March, 1833. I know
+the year, because it was the one succeeding the first cholera in
+Baltimore, and was the year, also, of that strange phenomenon, when the
+heavens seemed about to part with its starry train. I witnessed this
+gorgeous spectacle, and was awe-struck. The air seemed filled with
+bright, descending messengers from the sky. It was about daybreak when
+I saw this sublime scene. I was not without the suggestion, at the
+moment, that it might be the harbinger of the coming of the Son of Man;
+and, in my then state of mind, I was prepared to hail Him as my friend
+and deliverer. I had read, that the “stars shall fall from heaven”; and
+they were now falling. I was suffering much in my mind. It did seem
+that every time the young tendrils of my affection became attached,
+they were rudely broken by some unnatural outside power; and I was
+beginning to look away to heaven for the rest denied me on earth.
+
+But, to my story. It was now more than seven years since I had lived
+with Master Thomas Auld, in the family of my old master, on Col.
+Lloyd’s plantation. We were almost entire strangers to each other; for,
+when I knew him at the house of my old master, it was not as a
+_master_, but simply as “Captain Auld,” who had married old master’s
+daughter. All my lessons concerning his temper and disposition, and the
+best methods of pleasing him, were yet to be learnt. Slaveholders,
+however, are not very ceremonious in approaching a slave; and my
+ignorance of the new material in shape of a master was but transient.
+Nor was my mistress long in making known her animus. She was not a
+“Miss Lucretia,” traces of whom I yet remembered, and the more
+especially, as I saw them shining in the face of little Amanda, her
+daughter, now living under a step-mother’s government. I had not
+forgotten the soft hand, guided by a tender heart, that bound up with
+healing balsam the gash made in my head by Ike, the son of Abel. Thomas
+and Rowena, I found to be a well-matched pair. _He_ was stingy, and
+_she_ was cruel; and—what was quite natural in such cases—she possessed
+the ability to make him as cruel as herself, while she could easily
+descend to the level of his meanness. In the house of Master Thomas, I
+was made—for the first time in seven years to feel the pinchings of
+hunger, and this was not very easy to bear.
+
+For, in all the changes of Master Hugh’s family, there was no change in
+the bountifulness with which they supplied me with food. Not to give a
+slave enough to eat, is meanness intensified, and it is so recognized
+among slaveholders generally, in Maryland. The rule is, no matter how
+coarse the food, only let there be enough of it. This is the theory,
+and—in the part of Maryland I came from—the general practice accords
+with this theory. Lloyd’s plantation was an exception, as was, also,
+the house of Master Thomas Auld.
+
+All know the lightness of Indian corn-meal, as an article of food, and
+can easily judge from the following facts whether the statements I have
+made of the stinginess of Master Thomas, are borne out. There were four
+slaves of us in the kitchen, and four whites in the great house Thomas
+Auld, Mrs. Auld, Hadaway Auld (brother of Thomas Auld) and little
+Amanda. The names of the slaves in the kitchen, were Eliza, my sister;
+Priscilla, my aunt; Henny, my cousin; and myself. There were eight
+persons in the family. There was, each week, one half bushel of
+corn-meal brought from the mill; and in the kitchen, corn-meal was
+almost our exclusive food, for very little else was allowed us. Out of
+this bushel of corn-meal, the family in the great house had a small
+loaf every morning; thus leaving us, in the kitchen, with not quite a
+half a peck per week, apiece. This allowance was less than half the
+allowance of food on Lloyd’s plantation. It was not enough to subsist
+upon; and we were, therefore, reduced to the wretched necessity of
+living at the expense of our neighbors. We were compelled either to
+beg, or to steal, and we did both. I frankly confess, that while I
+hated everything like stealing, _as such_, I nevertheless did not
+hesitate to take food, when I was hungry, wherever I could find it. Nor
+was this practice the mere result of an unreasoning instinct; it was,
+in my case, the result of a clear apprehension of the claims of
+morality. I weighed and considered the matter closely, before I
+ventured to satisfy my hunger by such means. Considering that my labor
+and person were the property of Master Thomas, and that I was by him
+deprived of the necessaries of life necessaries obtained by my own
+labor—it was easy to deduce the right to supply myself with what was my
+own. It was simply appropriating what was my own to the use of my
+master, since the health and strength derived from such food were
+exerted in _his_ service. To be sure, this was stealing, according to
+the law and gospel I heard from St. Michael’s pulpit; but I had already
+begun to attach less importance to what dropped from that quarter, on
+that point, while, as yet, I retained my reverence for religion. It was
+not always convenient to steal from master, and the same reason why I
+might, innocently, steal from him, did not seem to justify me in
+stealing from others. In the case of my master, it was only a question
+of _removal_—the taking his meat out of one tub, and putting it into
+another; the ownership of the meat was not affected by the transaction.
+At first, he owned it in the _tub_, and last, he owned it in _me_. His
+meat house was not always open. There was a strict watch kept on that
+point, and the key was on a large bunch in Rowena’s pocket. A great
+many times have we, poor creatures, been severely pinched with hunger,
+when meat and bread have been moulding under the lock, while the key
+was in the pocket of our mistress. This had been so when she _knew_ we
+were nearly half starved; and yet, that mistress, with saintly air,
+would kneel with her husband, and pray each morning that a merciful God
+would bless them in basket and in store, and save them, at last, in his
+kingdom. But I proceed with the argument.
+
+It was necessary that right to steal from _others_ should be
+established; and this could only rest upon a wider range of
+generalization than that which supposed the right to steal from my
+master.
+
+It was sometime before I arrived at this clear right. The reader will
+get some idea of my train of reasoning, by a brief statement of the
+case. “I am,” thought I, “not only the slave of Thomas, but I am the
+slave of society at large. Society at large has bound itself, in form
+and in fact, to assist Master Thomas in robbing me of my rightful
+liberty, and of the just reward of my labor; therefore, whatever rights
+I have against Master Thomas, I have, equally, against those
+confederated with him in robbing me of liberty. As society has marked
+me out as privileged plunder, on the principle of self-preservation I
+am justified in plundering in turn. Since each slave belongs to all;
+all must, therefore, belong to each.”
+
+I shall here make a profession of faith which may shock some, offend
+others, and be dissented from by all. It is this: Within the bounds of
+his just earnings, I hold that the slave is fully justified in helping
+himself to the _gold and silver, and the best apparel of his master, or
+that of any other slaveholder; and that such taking is not stealing in
+any just sense of that word_.
+
+The morality of _free_ society can have no application to _slave_
+society. Slaveholders have made it almost impossible for the slave to
+commit any crime, known either to the laws of God or to the laws of
+man. If he steals, he takes his own; if he kills his master, he
+imitates only the heroes of the revolution. Slaveholders I hold to be
+individually and collectively responsible for all the evils which grow
+out of the horrid relation, and I believe they will be so held at the
+judgment, in the sight of a just God. Make a man a slave, and you rob
+him of moral responsibility. Freedom of choice is the essence of all
+accountability. But my kind readers are, probably, less concerned about
+my opinions, than about that which more nearly touches my personal
+experience; albeit, my opinions have, in some sort, been formed by that
+experience.
+
+Bad as slaveholders are, I have seldom met with one so entirely
+destitute of every element of character capable of inspiring respect,
+as was my present master, Capt. Thomas Auld.
+
+When I lived with him, I thought him incapable of a noble action. The
+leading trait in his character was intense selfishness. I think he was
+fully aware of this fact himself, and often tried to conceal it. Capt.
+Auld was not a _born_ slaveholder—not a birthright member of the
+slaveholding oligarchy. He was only a slaveholder by _marriage-right;_
+and, of all slaveholders, these latter are, _by far_, the most
+exacting. There was in him all the love of domination, the pride of
+mastery, and the swagger of authority, but his rule lacked the vital
+element of consistency. He could be cruel; but his methods of showing
+it were cowardly, and evinced his meanness rather than his spirit. His
+commands were strong, his enforcement weak.
+
+Slaves are not insensible to the whole-souled characteristics of a
+generous, dashing slaveholder, who is fearless of consequences; and
+they prefer a master of this bold and daring kind—even with the risk of
+being shot down for impudence to the fretful, little soul, who never
+uses the lash but at the suggestion of a love of gain.
+
+Slaves, too, readily distinguish between the birthright bearing of the
+original slaveholder and the assumed attitudes of the accidental
+slaveholder; and while they cannot respect either, they certainly
+despise the latter more than the former.
+
+The luxury of having slaves wait upon him was something new to Master
+Thomas; and for it he was wholly unprepared. He was a slaveholder,
+without the ability to hold or manage his slaves. We seldom called him
+“master,” but generally addressed him by his “bay craft” title—“_Capt.
+Auld_.” It is easy to see that such conduct might do much to make him
+appear awkward, and, consequently, fretful. His wife was especially
+solicitous to have us call her husband “master.” Is your _master_ at
+the store?”—“Where is your _master_?”—“Go and tell your _master”_—“I
+will make your _master_ acquainted with your conduct”—she would say;
+but we were inapt scholars. Especially were I and my sister Eliza inapt
+in this particular. Aunt Priscilla was less stubborn and defiant in her
+spirit than Eliza and myself; and, I think, her road was less rough
+than ours.
+
+In the month of August, 1833, when I had almost become desperate under
+the treatment of Master Thomas, and when I entertained more strongly
+than ever the oft-repeated determination to run away, a circumstance
+occurred which seemed to promise brighter and better days for us all.
+At a Methodist camp-meeting, held in the Bay Side (a famous place for
+campmeetings) about eight miles from St. Michael’s, Master Thomas came
+out with a profession of religion. He had long been an object of
+interest to the church, and to the ministers, as I had seen by the
+repeated visits and lengthy exhortations of the latter. He was a fish
+quite worth catching, for he had money and standing. In the community
+of St. Michael’s he was equal to the best citizen. He was strictly
+temperate; _perhaps_, from principle, but most likely, from interest.
+There was very little to do for him, to give him the appearance of
+piety, and to make him a pillar in the church. Well, the camp-meeting
+continued a week; people gathered from all parts of the county, and two
+steamboat loads came from Baltimore. The ground was happily chosen;
+seats were arranged; a stand erected; a rude altar fenced in, fronting
+the preachers’ stand, with straw in it for the accommodation of
+mourners. This latter would hold at least one hundred persons. In
+front, and on the sides of the preachers’ stand, and outside the long
+rows of seats, rose the first class of stately tents, each vieing with
+the other in strength, neatness, and capacity for accommodating its
+inmates. Behind this first circle of tents was another, less imposing,
+which reached round the camp-ground to the speakers’ stand. Outside
+this second class of tents were covered wagons, ox carts, and vehicles
+of every shape and size. These served as tents to their owners. Outside
+of these, huge fires were burning, in all directions, where roasting,
+and boiling, and frying, were going on, for the benefit of those who
+were attending to their own spiritual welfare within the circle.
+_Behind_ the preachers’ stand, a narrow space was marked out for the
+use of the colored people. There were no seats provided for this class
+of persons; the preachers addressed them, _“over the left,”_ if they
+addressed them at all. After the preaching was over, at every service,
+an invitation was given to mourners to come into the pen; and, in some
+cases, ministers went out to persuade men and women to come in. By one
+of these ministers, Master Thomas Auld was persuaded to go inside the
+pen. I was deeply interested in that matter, and followed; and, though
+colored people were not allowed either in the pen or in front of the
+preachers’ stand, I ventured to take my stand at a sort of half-way
+place between the blacks and whites, where I could distinctly see the
+movements of mourners, and especially the progress of Master Thomas.
+
+“If he has got religion,” thought I, “he will emancipate his slaves;
+and if he should not do so much as this, he will, at any rate, behave
+toward us more kindly, and feed us more generously than he has
+heretofore done.” Appealing to my own religious experience, and judging
+my master by what was true in my own case, I could not regard him as
+soundly converted, unless some such good results followed his
+profession of religion.
+
+But in my expectations I was doubly disappointed; Master Thomas was
+_Master Thomas_ still. The fruits of his righteousness were to show
+themselves in no such way as I had anticipated. His conversion was not
+to change his relation toward men—at any rate not toward BLACK men—but
+toward God. My faith, I confess, was not great. There was something in
+his appearance that, in my mind, cast a doubt over his conversion.
+Standing where I did, I could see his every movement. I watched
+narrowly while he remained in the little pen; and although I saw that
+his face was extremely red, and his hair disheveled, and though I heard
+him groan, and saw a stray tear halting on his cheek, as if inquiring
+“which way shall I go?”—I could not wholly confide in the genuineness
+of his conversion. The hesitating behavior of that tear-drop and its
+loneliness, distressed me, and cast a doubt upon the whole transaction,
+of which it was a part. But people said, _“Capt. Auld had come
+through,”_ and it was for me to hope for the best. I was bound to do
+this, in charity, for I, too, was religious, and had been in the church
+full three years, although now I was not more than sixteen years old.
+Slaveholders may, sometimes, have confidence in the piety of some of
+their slaves; but the slaves seldom have confidence in the piety of
+their masters. _“He cant go to heaven with our blood in his skirts_,”
+is a settled point in the creed of every slave; rising superior to all
+teaching to the contrary, and standing forever as a fixed fact. The
+highest evidence the slaveholder can give the slave of his acceptance
+with God, is the emancipation of his slaves. This is proof that he is
+willing to give up all to God, and for the sake of God. Not to do this,
+was, in my estimation, and in the opinion of all the slaves, an
+evidence of half-heartedness, and wholly inconsistent with the idea of
+genuine conversion. I had read, also, somewhere in the Methodist
+Discipline, the following question and answer:
+
+“_Question_. What shall be done for the extirpation of slavery?
+
+“_Answer_. We declare that we are much as ever convinced of the great
+evil of slavery; therefore, no slaveholder shall be eligible to any
+official station in our church.”
+
+These words sounded in my ears for a long time, and encouraged me to
+hope. But, as I have before said, I was doomed to disappointment.
+Master Thomas seemed to be aware of my hopes and expectations
+concerning him. I have thought, before now, that he looked at me in
+answer to my glances, as much as to say, “I will teach you, young man,
+that, though I have parted with my sins, I have not parted with my
+sense. I shall hold my slaves, and go to heaven too.”
+
+Possibly, to convince us that we must not presume _too much_ upon his
+recent conversion, he became rather more rigid and stringent in his
+exactions. There always was a scarcity of good nature about the man;
+but now his whole countenance was _soured_ over with the seemings of
+piety. His religion, therefore, neither made him emancipate his slaves,
+nor caused him to treat them with greater humanity. If religion had any
+effect on his character at all, it made him more cruel and hateful in
+all his ways. The natural wickedness of his heart had not been removed,
+but only reinforced, by the profession of religion. Do I judge him
+harshly? God forbid. Facts _are_ facts. Capt. Auld made the greatest
+profession of piety. His house was, literally, a house of prayer. In
+the morning, and in the evening, loud prayers and hymns were heard
+there, in which both himself and his wife joined; yet, _no more meal_
+was brought from the mill, _no more attention_ was paid to the moral
+welfare of the kitchen; and nothing was done to make us feel that the
+heart of Master Thomas was one whit better than it was before he went
+into the little pen, opposite to the preachers’ stand, on the camp
+ground.
+
+Our hopes (founded on the discipline) soon vanished; for the
+authorities let him into the church _at once_, and before he was out of
+his term of _probation_, I heard of his leading class! He distinguished
+himself greatly among the brethren, and was soon an exhorter. His
+progress was almost as rapid as the growth of the fabled vine of Jack’s
+bean. No man was more active than he, in revivals. He would go many
+miles to assist in carrying them on, and in getting outsiders
+interested in religion. His house being one of the holiest, if not the
+happiest in St. Michael’s, became the “preachers’ home.” These
+preachers evidently liked to share Master Thomas’s hospitality; for
+while he _starved us_, he _stuffed_ them. Three or four of these
+ambassadors of the gospel—according to slavery—have been there at a
+time; all living on the fat of the land, while we, in the kitchen, were
+nearly starving. Not often did we get a smile of recognition from these
+holy men. They seemed almost as unconcerned about our getting to
+heaven, as they were about our getting out of slavery. To this general
+charge there was one exception—the Rev. GEORGE COOKMAN. Unlike Rev.
+Messrs. Storks, Ewry, Hickey, Humphrey and Cooper (all whom were on the
+St. Michael’s circuit) he kindly took an interest in our temporal and
+spiritual welfare. Our souls and our bodies were all alike sacred in
+his sight; and he really had a good deal of genuine anti-slavery
+feeling mingled with his colonization ideas. There was not a slave in
+our neighborhood that did not love, and almost venerate, Mr. Cookman.
+It was pretty generally believed that he had been chiefly instrumental
+in bringing one of the largest slaveholders—Mr. Samuel Harrison—in that
+neighborhood, to emancipate all his slaves, and, indeed, the general
+impression was, that Mr. Cookman had labored faithfully with
+slaveholders, whenever he met them, to induce them to emancipate their
+bondmen, and that he did this as a religious duty. When this good man
+was at our house, we were all sure to be called in to prayers in the
+morning; and he was not slow in making inquiries as to the state of our
+minds, nor in giving us a word of exhortation and of encouragement.
+Great was the sorrow of all the slaves, when this faithful preacher of
+the gospel was removed from the Talbot county circuit. He was an
+eloquent preacher, and possessed what few ministers, south of Mason
+Dixon’s line, possess, or _dare_ to show, viz: a warm and philanthropic
+heart. The Mr. Cookman, of whom I speak, was an Englishman by birth,
+and perished while on his way to England, on board the ill-fated
+“President”. Could the thousands of slaves in Maryland know the fate of
+the good man, to whose words of comfort they were so largely indebted,
+they would thank me for dropping a tear on this page, in memory of
+their favorite preacher, friend and benefactor.
+
+But, let me return to Master Thomas, and to my experience, after his
+conversion. In Baltimore, I could, occasionally, get into a Sabbath
+school, among the free children, and receive lessons, with the rest;
+but, having already learned both to read and to write, I was more of a
+teacher than a pupil, even there. When, however, I went back to the
+Eastern Shore, and was at the house of Master Thomas, I was neither
+allowed to teach, nor to be taught. The whole community—with but a
+single exception, among the whites—frowned upon everything like
+imparting instruction either to slaves or to free colored persons. That
+single exception, a pious young man, named Wilson, asked me, one day,
+if I would like to assist him in teaching a little Sabbath school, at
+the house of a free colored man in St. Michael’s, named James Mitchell.
+The idea was to me a delightful one, and I told him I would gladly
+devote as much of my Sabbath as I could command, to that most laudable
+work. Mr. Wilson soon mustered up a dozen old spelling books, and a few
+testaments; and we commenced operations, with some twenty scholars, in
+our Sunday school. Here, thought I, is something worth living for; here
+is an excellent chance for usefulness; and I shall soon have a company
+of young friends, lovers of knowledge, like some of my Baltimore
+friends, from whom I now felt parted forever.
+
+Our first Sabbath passed delightfully, and I spent the week after very
+joyously. I could not go to Baltimore, but I could make a little
+Baltimore here. At our second meeting, I learned that there was some
+objection to the existence of the Sabbath school; and, sure enough, we
+had scarcely got at work—_good work_, simply teaching a few colored
+children how to read the gospel of the Son of God—when in rushed a mob,
+headed by Mr. Wright Fairbanks and Mr. Garrison West—two
+class-leaders—and Master Thomas; who, armed with sticks and other
+missiles, drove us off, and commanded us never to meet for such a
+purpose again. One of this pious crew told me, that as for my part, I
+wanted to be another Nat Turner; and if I did not look out, I should
+get as many balls into me, as Nat did into him. Thus ended the infant
+Sabbath school, in the town of St. Michael’s. The reader will not be
+surprised when I say, that the breaking up of my Sabbath school, by
+these class-leaders, and professedly holy men, did not serve to
+strengthen my religious convictions. The cloud over my St. Michael’s
+home grew heavier and blacker than ever.
+
+It was not merely the agency of Master Thomas, in breaking up and
+destroying my Sabbath school, that shook my confidence in the power of
+southern religion to make men wiser or better; but I saw in him all the
+cruelty and meanness, _after_ his conversion, which he had exhibited
+before he made a profession of religion. His cruelty and meanness were
+especially displayed in his treatment of my unfortunate cousin, Henny,
+whose lameness made her a burden to him. I have no extraordinary
+personal hard usage toward myself to complain of, against him, but I
+have seen him tie up the lame and maimed woman, and whip her in a
+manner most brutal, and shocking; and then, with blood-chilling
+blasphemy, he would quote the passage of scripture, “That servant which
+knew his lord’s will, and prepared not himself, neither did according
+to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes.” Master would keep this
+lacerated woman tied up by her wrists, to a bolt in the joist, three,
+four and five hours at a time. He would tie her up early in the
+morning, whip her with a cowskin before breakfast; leave her tied up;
+go to his store, and, returning to his dinner, repeat the castigation;
+laying on the rugged lash, on flesh already made raw by repeated blows.
+He seemed desirous to get the poor girl out of existence, or, at any
+rate, off his hands. In proof of this, he afterwards gave her away to
+his sister Sarah (Mrs. Cline) but, as in the case of Master Hugh, Henny
+was soon returned on his hands. Finally, upon a pretense that he could
+do nothing with her (I use his own words) he “set her adrift, to take
+care of herself.” Here was a recently converted man, holding, with
+tight grasp, the well-framed, and able bodied slaves left him by old
+master—the persons, who, in freedom, could have taken care of
+themselves; yet, turning loose the only cripple among them, virtually
+to starve and die.
+
+No doubt, had Master Thomas been asked, by some pious northern brother,
+_why_ he continued to sustain the relation of a slaveholder, to those
+whom he retained, his answer would have been precisely the same as many
+other religious slaveholders have returned to that inquiry, viz: “I
+hold my slaves for their own good.”
+
+Bad as my condition was when I lived with Master Thomas, I was soon to
+experience a life far more goading and bitter. The many differences
+springing up between myself and Master Thomas, owing to the clear
+perception I had of his character, and the boldness with which I
+defended myself against his capricious complaints, led him to declare
+that I was unsuited to his wants; that my city life had affected me
+perniciously; that, in fact, it had almost ruined me for every good
+purpose, and had fitted me for everything that was bad. One of my
+greatest faults, or offenses, was that of letting his horse get away,
+and go down to the farm belonging to his father-in-law. The animal had
+a liking for that farm, with which I fully sympathized. Whenever I let
+it out, it would go dashing down the road to Mr. Hamilton’s, as if
+going on a grand frolic. My horse gone, of course I must go after it.
+The explanation of our mutual attachment to the place is the same; the
+horse found there good pasturage, and I found there plenty of bread.
+Mr. Hamilton had his faults, but starving his slaves was not among
+them. He gave food, in abundance, and that, too, of an excellent
+quality. In Mr. Hamilton’s cook—Aunt Mary—I found a most generous and
+considerate friend. She never allowed me to go there without giving me
+bread enough to make good the deficiencies of a day or two. Master
+Thomas at last resolved to endure my behavior no longer; he could
+neither keep me, nor his horse, we liked so well to be at his
+father-in-law’s farm. I had now lived with him nearly nine months, and
+he had given me a number of severe whippings, without any visible
+improvement in my character, or my conduct; and now he was resolved to
+put me out—as he said—“_to be broken._”
+
+There was, in the Bay Side, very near the camp ground, where my master
+got his religious impressions, a man named Edward Covey, who enjoyed
+the execrated reputation, of being a first rate hand at breaking young
+Negroes. This Covey was a poor man, a farm renter; and this reputation
+(hateful as it was to the slaves and to all good men) was, at the same
+time, of immense advantage to him. It enabled him to get his farm
+tilled with very little expense, compared with what it would have cost
+him without this most extraordinary reputation. Some slaveholders
+thought it an advantage to let Mr. Covey have the government of their
+slaves a year or two, almost free of charge, for the sake of the
+excellent training such slaves got under his happy management! Like
+some horse breakers, noted for their skill, who ride the best horses in
+the country without expense, Mr. Covey could have under him, the most
+fiery bloods of the neighborhood, for the simple reward of returning
+them to their owners, _well broken_. Added to the natural fitness of
+Mr. Covey for the duties of his profession, he was said to “enjoy
+religion,” and was as strict in the cultivation of piety, as he was in
+the cultivation of his farm. I was made aware of his character by some
+who had been under his hand; and while I could not look forward to
+going to him with any pleasure, I was glad to get away from St.
+Michael’s. I was sure of getting enough to eat at Covey’s, even if I
+suffered in other respects. _This_, to a hungry man, is not a prospect
+to be regarded with indifference.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. _Covey, the Negro Breaker_
+
+
+JOURNEY TO MY NEW MASTER’S—MEDITATIONS BY THE WAY—VIEW OF COVEY’S
+RESIDENCE—THE FAMILY—MY AWKWARDNESS AS A FIELD HAND—A CRUEL BEATING—WHY
+IT WAS GIVEN—DESCRIPTION OF COVEY—FIRST ADVENTURE AT OX DRIVING—HAIR
+BREADTH ESCAPES—OX AND MAN ALIKE PROPERTY—COVEY’S MANNER OF PROCEEDING
+TO WHIP—HARD LABOR BETTER THAN THE WHIP FOR BREAKING DOWN THE
+SPIRIT—CUNNING AND TRICKERY OF COVEY—FAMILY WORSHIP—SHOCKING CONTEMPT
+FOR CHASTITY—I AM BROKEN DOWN—GREAT MENTAL AGITATION IN CONTRASTING THE
+FREEDOM OF THE SHIPS WITH HIS OWN SLAVERY—ANGUISH BEYOND DESCRIPTION.
+
+
+The morning of the first of January, 1834, with its chilling wind and
+pinching frost, quite in harmony with the winter in my own mind, found
+me, with my little bundle of clothing on the end of a stick, swung
+across my shoulder, on the main road, bending my way toward Covey’s,
+whither I had been imperiously ordered by Master Thomas. The latter had
+been as good as his word, and had committed me, without reserve, to the
+mastery of Mr. Edward Covey. Eight or ten years had now passed since I
+had been taken from my grandmother’s cabin, in Tuckahoe; and these
+years, for the most part, I had spent in Baltimore, where—as the reader
+has already seen—I was treated with comparative tenderness. I was now
+about to sound profounder depths in slave life. The rigors of a field,
+less tolerable than the field of battle, awaited me. My new master was
+notorious for his fierce and savage disposition, and my only
+consolation in going to live with him was, the certainty of finding him
+precisely as represented by common fame. There was neither joy in my
+heart, nor elasticity in my step, as I started in search of the
+tyrant’s home. Starvation made me glad to leave Thomas Auld’s, and the
+cruel lash made me dread to go to Covey’s. Escape was impossible; so,
+heavy and sad, I paced the seven miles, which separated Covey’s house
+from St. Michael’s—thinking much by the solitary way—averse to my
+condition; but _thinking_ was all I could do. Like a fish in a net,
+allowed to play for a time, I was now drawn rapidly to the shore,
+secured at all points. “I am,” thought I, “but the sport of a power
+which makes no account, either of my welfare or of my happiness. By a
+law which I can clearly comprehend, but cannot evade nor resist, I am
+ruthlessly snatched from the hearth of a fond grandmother, and hurried
+away to the home of a mysterious ‘old master;’ again I am removed from
+there, to a master in Baltimore; thence am I snatched away to the
+Eastern Shore, to be valued with the beasts of the field, and, with
+them, divided and set apart for a possessor; then I am sent back to
+Baltimore; and by the time I have formed new attachments, and have
+begun to hope that no more rude shocks shall touch me, a difference
+arises between brothers, and I am again broken up, and sent to St.
+Michael’s; and now, from the latter place, I am footing my way to the
+home of a new master, where, I am given to understand, that, like a
+wild young working animal, I am to be broken to the yoke of a bitter
+and life-long bondage.”
+
+With thoughts and reflections like these, I came in sight of a small
+wood-colored building, about a mile from the main road, which, from the
+description I had received, at starting, I easily recognized as my new
+home. The Chesapeake bay—upon the jutting banks of which the little
+wood-colored house was standing—white with foam, raised by the heavy
+north-west wind; Poplar Island, covered with a thick, black pine
+forest, standing out amid this half ocean; and Kent Point, stretching
+its sandy, desert-like shores out into the foam-cested bay—were all in
+sight, and deepened the wild and desolate aspect of my new home.
+
+The good clothes I had brought with me from Baltimore were now worn
+thin, and had not been replaced; for Master Thomas was as little
+careful to provide us against cold, as against hunger. Met here by a
+north wind, sweeping through an open space of forty miles, I was glad
+to make any port; and, therefore, I speedily pressed on to the little
+wood-colored house. The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Covey; Miss
+Kemp (a broken-backed woman) a sister of Mrs. Covey; William Hughes,
+cousin to Edward Covey; Caroline, the cook; Bill Smith, a hired man;
+and myself. Bill Smith, Bill Hughes, and myself, were the working force
+of the farm, which consisted of three or four hundred acres. I was now,
+for the first time in my life, to be a field hand; and in my new
+employment I found myself even more awkward than a green country boy
+may be supposed to be, upon his first entrance into the bewildering
+scenes of city life; and my awkwardness gave me much trouble. Strange
+and unnatural as it may seem, I had been at my new home but three days,
+before Mr. Covey (my brother in the Methodist church) gave me a bitter
+foretaste of what was in reserve for me. I presume he thought, that
+since he had but a single year in which to complete his work, the
+sooner he began, the better. Perhaps he thought that by coming to blows
+at once, we should mutually better understand our relations. But to
+whatever motive, direct or indirect, the cause may be referred, I had
+not been in his possession three whole days, before he subjected me to
+a most brutal chastisement. Under his heavy blows, blood flowed freely,
+and wales were left on my back as large as my little finger. The sores
+on my back, from this flogging, continued for weeks, for they were kept
+open by the rough and coarse cloth which I wore for shirting. The
+occasion and details of this first chapter of my experience as a field
+hand, must be told, that the reader may see how unreasonable, as well
+as how cruel, my new master, Covey, was. The whole thing I found to be
+characteristic of the man; and I was probably treated no worse by him
+than scores of lads who had previously been committed to him, for
+reasons similar to those which induced my master to place me with him.
+But, here are the facts connected with the affair, precisely as they
+occurred.
+
+On one of the coldest days of the whole month of January, 1834, I was
+ordered, at day break, to get a load of wood, from a forest about two
+miles from the house. In order to perform this work, Mr. Covey gave me
+a pair of unbroken oxen, for, it seems, his breaking abilities had not
+been turned in this direction; and I may remark, in passing, that
+working animals in the south, are seldom so well trained as in the
+north. In due form, and with all proper ceremony, I was introduced to
+this huge yoke of unbroken oxen, and was carefully told which was
+“Buck,” and which was “Darby”—which was the “in hand,” and which was
+the “off hand” ox. The master of this important ceremony was no less a
+person than Mr. Covey, himself; and the introduction was the first of
+the kind I had ever had. My life, hitherto, had led me away from horned
+cattle, and I had no knowledge of the art of managing them. What was
+meant by the “in ox,” as against the “off ox,” when both were equally
+fastened to one cart, and under one yoke, I could not very easily
+divine; and the difference, implied by the names, and the peculiar
+duties of each, were alike _Greek_ to me. Why was not the “off ox”
+called the “in ox?” Where and what is the reason for this distinction
+in names, when there is none in the things themselves? After initiating
+me into the _“woa,” “back” “gee,” “hither”_—the entire spoken language
+between oxen and driver—Mr. Covey took a rope, about ten feet long and
+one inch thick, and placed one end of it around the horns of the “in
+hand ox,” and gave the other end to me, telling me that if the oxen
+started to run away, as the scamp knew they would, I must hold on to
+the rope and stop them. I need not tell any one who is acquainted with
+either the strength of the disposition of an untamed ox, that this
+order was about as unreasonable as a command to shoulder a mad bull! I
+had never driven oxen before, and I was as awkward, as a driver, as it
+is possible to conceive. It did not answer for me to plead ignorance,
+to Mr. Covey; there was something in his manner that quite forbade
+that. He was a man to whom a slave seldom felt any disposition to
+speak. Cold, distant, morose, with a face wearing all the marks of
+captious pride and malicious sternness, he repelled all advances. Covey
+was not a large man; he was only about five feet ten inches in height,
+I should think; short necked, round shoulders; of quick and wiry
+motion, of thin and wolfish visage; with a pair of small, greenish-gray
+eyes, set well back under a forehead without dignity, and constantly in
+motion, and floating his passions, rather than his thoughts, in sight,
+but denying them utterance in words. The creature presented an
+appearance altogether ferocious and sinister, disagreeable and
+forbidding, in the extreme. When he spoke, it was from the corner of
+his mouth, and in a sort of light growl, like a dog, when an attempt is
+made to take a bone from him. The fellow had already made me believe
+him even _worse_ than he had been presented. With his directions, and
+without stopping to question, I started for the woods, quite anxious to
+perform my first exploit in driving, in a creditable manner. The
+distance from the house to the woods gate a full mile, I should
+think—was passed over with very little difficulty; for although the
+animals ran, I was fleet enough, in the open field, to keep pace with
+them; especially as they pulled me along at the end of the rope; but,
+on reaching the woods, I was speedily thrown into a distressing plight.
+The animals took fright, and started off ferociously into the woods,
+carrying the cart, full tilt, against trees, over stumps, and dashing
+from side to side, in a manner altogether frightful. As I held the
+rope, I expected every moment to be crushed between the cart and the
+huge trees, among which they were so furiously dashing. After running
+thus for several minutes, my oxen were, finally, brought to a stand, by
+a tree, against which they dashed themselves with great violence,
+upsetting the cart, and entangling themselves among sundry young
+saplings. By the shock, the body of the cart was flung in one
+direction, and the wheels and tongue in another, and all in the
+greatest confusion. There I was, all alone, in a thick wood, to which I
+was a stranger; my cart upset and shattered; my oxen entangled, wild,
+and enraged; and I, poor soul! but a green hand, to set all this
+disorder right. I knew no more of oxen than the ox driver is supposed
+to know of wisdom. After standing a few moments surveying the damage
+and disorder, and not without a presentiment that this trouble would
+draw after it others, even more distressing, I took one end of the cart
+body, and, by an extra outlay of strength, I lifted it toward the
+axle-tree, from which it had been violently flung; and after much
+pulling and straining, I succeeded in getting the body of the cart in
+its place. This was an important step out of the difficulty, and its
+performance increased my courage for the work which remained to be
+done. The cart was provided with an ax, a tool with which I had become
+pretty well acquainted in the ship yard at Baltimore. With this, I cut
+down the saplings by which my oxen were entangled, and again pursued my
+journey, with my heart in my mouth, lest the oxen should again take it
+into their senseless heads to cut up a caper. My fears were groundless.
+Their spree was over for the present, and the rascals now moved off as
+soberly as though their behavior had been natural and exemplary. On
+reaching the part of the forest where I had been, the day before,
+chopping wood, I filled the cart with a heavy load, as a security
+against another running away. But, the neck of an ox is equal in
+strength to iron. It defies all ordinary burdens, when excited. Tame
+and docile to a proverb, when _well_ trained, the ox is the most sullen
+and intractable of animals when but half broken to the yoke.
+
+I now saw, in my situation, several points of similarity with that of
+the oxen. They were property, so was I; they were to be broken, so was
+I. Covey was to break me, I was to break them; break and be broken—such
+is life.
+
+Half the day already gone, and my face not yet homeward! It required
+only two day’s experience and observation to teach me, that such
+apparent waste of time would not be lightly overlooked by Covey. I
+therefore hurried toward home; but, on reaching the lane gate, I met
+with the crowning disaster for the day. This gate was a fair specimen
+of southern handicraft. There were two huge posts, eighteen inches in
+diameter, rough hewed and square, and the heavy gate was so hung on one
+of these, that it opened only about half the proper distance. On
+arriving here, it was necessary for me to let go the end of the rope on
+the horns of the “in hand ox;” and now as soon as the gate was open,
+and I let go of it to get the rope, again, off went my oxen—making
+nothing of their load—full tilt; and in doing so they caught the huge
+gate between the wheel and the cart body, literally crushing it to
+splinters, and coming only within a few inches of subjecting me to a
+similar crushing, for I was just in advance of the wheel when it struck
+the left gate post. With these two hair-breadth escape, I thought I
+could sucessfully(sic) explain to Mr. Covey the delay, and avert
+apprehended punishment. I was not without a faint hope of being
+commended for the stern resolution which I had displayed in
+accomplishing the difficult task—a task which, I afterwards learned,
+even Covey himself would not have undertaken, without first driving the
+oxen for some time in the open field, preparatory to their going into
+the woods. But, in this I was disappointed. On coming to him, his
+countenance assumed an aspect of rigid displeasure, and, as I gave him
+a history of the casualties of my trip, his wolfish face, with his
+greenish eyes, became intensely ferocious. “Go back to the woods
+again,” he said, muttering something else about wasting time. I hastily
+obeyed; but I had not gone far on my way, when I saw him coming after
+me. My oxen now behaved themselves with singular propriety, opposing
+their present conduct to my representation of their former antics. I
+almost wished, now that Covey was coming, they would do something in
+keeping with the character I had given them; but no, they had already
+had their spree, and they could afford now to be extra good, readily
+obeying my orders, and seeming to understand them quite as well as I
+did myself. On reaching the woods, my tormentor—who seemed all the way
+to be remarking upon the good behavior of his oxen—came up to me, and
+ordered me to stop the cart, accompanying the same with the threat that
+he would now teach me how to break gates, and idle away my time, when
+he sent me to the woods. Suiting the action to the word, Covey paced
+off, in his own wiry fashion, to a large, black gum tree, the young
+shoots of which are generally used for ox _goads_, they being
+exceedingly tough. Three of these _goads_, from four to six feet long,
+he cut off, and trimmed up, with his large jack-knife. This done, he
+ordered me to take off my clothes. To this unreasonable order I made no
+reply, but sternly refused to take off my clothing. “If you will beat
+me,” thought I, “you shall do so over my clothes.” After many threats,
+which made no impression on me, he rushed at me with something of the
+savage fierceness of a wolf, tore off the few and thinly worn clothes I
+had on, and proceeded to wear out, on my back, the heavy goads which he
+had cut from the gum tree. This flogging was the first of a series of
+floggings; and though very severe, it was less so than many which came
+after it, and these, for offenses far lighter than the gate breaking.
+
+I remained with Mr. Covey one year (I cannot say I _lived_ with him)
+and during the first six months that I was there, I was whipped, either
+with sticks or cowskins, every week. Aching bones and a sore back were
+my constant companions. Frequent as the lash was used, Mr. Covey
+thought less of it, as a means of breaking down my spirit, than that of
+hard and long continued labor. He worked me steadily, up to the point
+of my powers of endurance. From the dawn of day in the morning, till
+the darkness was complete in the evening, I was kept at hard work, in
+the field or the woods. At certain seasons of the year, we were all
+kept in the field till eleven and twelve o’clock at night. At these
+times, Covey would attend us in the field, and urge us on with words or
+blows, as it seemed best to him. He had, in his life, been an overseer,
+and he well understood the business of slave driving. There was no
+deceiving him. He knew just what a man or boy could do, and he held
+both to strict account. When he pleased, he would work himself, like a
+very Turk, making everything fly before him. It was, however, scarcely
+necessary for Mr. Covey to be really present in the field, to have his
+work go on industriously. He had the faculty of making us feel that he
+was always present. By a series of adroitly managed surprises, which he
+practiced, I was prepared to expect him at any moment. His plan was,
+never to approach the spot where his hands were at work, in an open,
+manly and direct manner. No thief was ever more artful in his devices
+than this man Covey. He would creep and crawl, in ditches and gullies;
+hide behind stumps and bushes, and practice so much of the cunning of
+the serpent, that Bill Smith and I—between ourselves—never called him
+by any other name than _“the snake.”_ We fancied that in his eyes and
+his gait we could see a snakish resemblance. One half of his
+proficiency in the art of Negro breaking, consisted, I should think, in
+this species of cunning. We were never secure. He could see or hear us
+nearly all the time. He was, to us, behind every stump, tree, bush and
+fence on the plantation. He carried this kind of trickery so far, that
+he would sometimes mount his horse, and make believe he was going to
+St. Michael’s; and, in thirty minutes afterward, you might find his
+horse tied in the woods, and the snake-like Covey lying flat in the
+ditch, with his head lifted above its edge, or in a fence corner,
+watching every movement of the slaves! I have known him walk up to us
+and give us special orders, as to our work, in advance, as if he were
+leaving home with a view to being absent several days; and before he
+got half way to the house, he would avail himself of our inattention to
+his movements, to turn short on his heels, conceal himself behind a
+fence corner or a tree, and watch us until the going down of the sun.
+Mean and contemptible as is all this, it is in keeping with the
+character which the life of a slaveholder is calculated to produce.
+There is no earthly inducement, in the slave’s condition, to incite him
+to labor faithfully. The fear of punishment is the sole motive for any
+sort of industry, with him. Knowing this fact, as the slaveholder does,
+and judging the slave by himself, he naturally concludes the slave will
+be idle whenever the cause for this fear is absent. Hence, all sorts of
+petty deceptions are practiced, to inspire this fear.
+
+But, with Mr. Covey, trickery was natural. Everything in the shape of
+learning or religion, which he possessed, was made to conform to this
+semi-lying propensity. He did not seem conscious that the practice had
+anything unmanly, base or contemptible about it. It was a part of an
+important system, with him, essential to the relation of master and
+slave. I thought I saw, in his very religious devotions, this
+controlling element of his character. A long prayer at night made up
+for the short prayer in the morning; and few men could seem more
+devotional than he, when he had nothing else to do.
+
+Mr. Covey was not content with the cold style of family worship,
+adopted in these cold latitudes, which begin and end with a simple
+prayer. No! the voice of praise, as well as of prayer, must be heard in
+his house, night and morning. At first, I was called upon to bear some
+part in these exercises; but the repeated flogging given me by Covey,
+turned the whole thing into mockery. He was a poor singer, and mainly
+relied on me for raising the hymn for the family, and when I failed to
+do so, he was thrown into much confusion. I do not think that he ever
+abused me on account of these vexations. His religion was a thing
+altogether apart from his worldly concerns. He knew nothing of it as a
+holy principle, directing and controlling his daily life, making the
+latter conform to the requirements of the gospel. One or two facts will
+illustrate his character better than a volume of generalties(sic).
+
+I have already said, or implied, that Mr. Edward Covey was a poor man.
+He was, in fact, just commencing to lay the foundation of his fortune,
+as fortune is regarded in a slave state. The first condition of wealth
+and respectability there, being the ownership of human property, every
+nerve is strained, by the poor man, to obtain it, and very little
+regard is had to the manner of obtaining it. In pursuit of this object,
+pious as Mr. Covey was, he proved himself to be as unscrupulous and
+base as the worst of his neighbors. In the beginning, he was only
+able—as he said—“to buy one slave;” and, scandalous and shocking as is
+the fact, he boasted that he bought her simply “_as a breeder_.” But
+the worst is not told in this naked statement. This young woman
+(Caroline was her name) was virtually compelled by Mr. Covey to abandon
+herself to the object for which he had purchased her; and the result
+was, the birth of twins at the end of the year. At this addition to his
+human stock, both Edward Covey and his wife, Susan, were ecstatic with
+joy. No one dreamed of reproaching the woman, or of finding fault with
+the hired man—Bill Smith—the father of the children, for Mr. Covey
+himself had locked the two up together every night, thus inviting the
+result.
+
+But I will pursue this revolting subject no further. No better
+illustration of the unchaste and demoralizing character of slavery can
+be found, than is furnished in the fact that this professedly Christian
+slaveholder, amidst all his prayers and hymns, was shamelessly and
+boastfully encouraging, and actually compelling, in his own house,
+undisguised and unmitigated fornication, as a means of increasing his
+human stock. I may remark here, that, while this fact will be read with
+disgust and shame at the north, it will be _laughed at_, as smart and
+praiseworthy in Mr. Covey, at the south; for a man is no more condemned
+there for buying a woman and devoting her to this life of dishonor,
+than for buying a cow, and raising stock from her. The same rules are
+observed, with a view to increasing the number and quality of the
+former, as of the latter.
+
+I will here reproduce what I said of my own experience in this wretched
+place, more than ten years ago:
+
+If at any one time of my life, more than another, I was made to drink
+the bitterest dregs of slavery, that time was during the first six
+months of my stay with Mr. Covey. We were worked all weathers. It was
+never too hot or too cold; it could never rain, blow, snow, or hail too
+hard for us to work in the field. Work, work, work, was scarcely more
+the order of the day than the night. The longest days were too short
+for him, and the shortest nights were too long for him. I was somewhat
+unmanageable when I first went there; but a few months of his
+discipline tamed me. Mr. Covey succeeded in breaking me. I was broken
+in body, soul and spirit. My natural elasticity was crushed; my
+intellect languished; the disposition to read departed; the cheerful
+spark that lingered about my eye died; the dark night of slavery closed
+in upon me; and behold a man transformed into a brute!
+
+Sunday was my only leisure time. I spent this in a sort of beast-like
+stupor, between sleep and wake, under some large tree. At times, I
+would rise up, a flash of energetic freedom would dart through my soul,
+accompanied with a faint beam of hope, flickered for a moment, and then
+vanished. I sank down again, mourning over my wretched condition. I was
+sometimes prompted to take my life, and that of Covey, but was
+prevented by a combination of hope and fear. My sufferings on this
+plantation seem now like a dream rather than a stern reality.
+
+Our house stood within a few rods of the Chesapeake bay, whose broad
+bosom was ever white with sails from every quarter of the habitable
+globe. Those beautiful vessels, robed in purest white, so delightful to
+the eye of freemen, were to me so many shrouded ghosts, to terrify and
+torment me with thoughts of my wretched condition. I have often, in the
+deep stillness of a summer’s Sabbath, stood all alone upon the banks of
+that noble bay, and traced, with saddened heart and tearful eye, the
+countless number of sails moving off to the mighty ocean. The sight of
+these always affected me powerfully. My thoughts would compel
+utterance; and there, with no audience but the Almighty, I would pour
+out my soul’s complaint in my rude way, with an apostrophe to the
+moving multitude of ships:
+
+“You are loosed from your moorings, and free; I am fast in my chains,
+and am a slave! You move merrily before the gentle gale, and I sadly
+before the bloody whip! You are freedom’s swift-winged angels, that fly
+around the world; I am confined in bands of iron! O, that I were free!
+O, that I were on one of your gallant decks, and under your protecting
+wing! Alas! betwixt me and you the turbid waters roll. Go on, go on. O
+that I could also go! Could I but swim! If I could fly! O, why was I
+born a man, of whom to make a brute! The glad ship is gone; she hides
+in the dim distance. I am left in the hottest hell of unending slavery.
+O God, save me! God, deliver me! Let me be free! Is there any God? Why
+am I a slave? I will run away. I will not stand it. Get caught, or get
+clear, I’ll try it. I had as well die with ague as with fever. I have
+only one life to lose. I had as well be killed running as die standing.
+Only think of it; one hundred miles straight north, and I am free! Try
+it? Yes! God helping me, I will. It cannot be that I shall live and die
+a slave. I will take to the water. This very bay shall yet bear me into
+freedom. The steamboats steered in a north-east coast from North Point.
+I will do the same; and when I get to the head of the bay, I will turn
+my canoe adrift, and walk straight through Delaware into Pennsylvania.
+When I get there, I shall not be required to have a pass; I will travel
+without being disturbed. Let but the first opportunity offer, and come
+what will, I am off. Meanwhile, I will try to bear up under the yoke. I
+am not the only slave in the world. Why should I fret? I can bear as
+much as any of them. Besides, I am but a boy, and all boys are bound to
+some one. It may be that my misery in slavery will only increase my
+happiness when I get free. There is a better day coming.”
+
+I shall never be able to narrate the mental experience through which it
+was my lot to pass during my stay at Covey’s. I was completely wrecked,
+changed and bewildered; goaded almost to madness at one time, and at
+another reconciling myself to my wretched condition. Everything in the
+way of kindness, which I had experienced at Baltimore; all my former
+hopes and aspirations for usefulness in the world, and the happy
+moments spent in the exercises of religion, contrasted with my then
+present lot, but increased my anguish.
+
+I suffered bodily as well as mentally. I had neither sufficient time in
+which to eat or to sleep, except on Sundays. The overwork, and the
+brutal chastisements of which I was the victim, combined with that
+ever-gnawing and soul-devouring thought—“_I am a slave—a slave for
+life—a slave with no rational ground to hope for freedom_”—rendered me
+a living embodiment of mental and physical wretchedness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. _Another Pressure of the Tyrant’s Vice_
+
+
+EXPERIENCE AT COVEY’S SUMMED UP—FIRST SIX MONTHS SEVERER THAN THE
+SECOND—PRELIMINARIES TO THE CHANCE—REASONS FOR NARRATING THE
+CIRCUMSTANCES—SCENE IN TREADING YARD—TAKEN ILL—UNUSUAL BRUTALITY OF
+COVEY—ESCAPE TO ST. MICHAEL’S—THE PURSUIT—SUFFERING IN THE WOODS—DRIVEN
+BACK AGAIN TO COVEY’S—BEARING OF MASTER THOMAS—THE SLAVE IS NEVER
+SICK—NATURAL TO EXPECT SLAVES TO FEIGN SICKNESS—LAZINESS OF
+SLAVEHOLDERS.
+
+
+The foregoing chapter, with all its horrid incidents and shocking
+features, may be taken as a fair representation of the first six months
+of my life at Covey’s. The reader has but to repeat, in his own mind,
+once a week, the scene in the woods, where Covey subjected me to his
+merciless lash, to have a true idea of my bitter experience there,
+during the first period of the breaking process through which Mr. Covey
+carried me. I have no heart to repeat each separate transaction, in
+which I was victim of his violence and brutality. Such a narration
+would fill a volume much larger than the present one. I aim only to
+give the reader a truthful impression of my slave life, without
+unnecessarily affecting him with harrowing details.
+
+As I have elsewhere intimated that my hardships were much greater
+during the first six months of my stay at Covey’s, than during the
+remainder of the year, and as the change in my condition was owing to
+causes which may help the reader to a better understanding of human
+nature, when subjected to the terrible extremities of slavery, I will
+narrate the circumstances of this change, although I may seem thereby
+to applaud my own courage. You have, dear reader, seen me humbled,
+degraded, broken down, enslaved, and brutalized, and you understand how
+it was done; now let us see the converse of all this, and how it was
+brought about; and this will take us through the year 1834.
+
+On one of the hottest days of the month of August, of the year just
+mentioned, had the reader been passing through Covey’s farm, he might
+have seen me at work, in what is there called the “treading yard”—a
+yard upon which wheat is trodden out from the straw, by the horses’
+feet. I was there, at work, feeding the “fan,” or rather bringing wheat
+to the fan, while Bill Smith was feeding. Our force consisted of Bill
+Hughes, Bill Smith, and a slave by the name of Eli; the latter having
+been hired for this occasion. The work was simple, and required
+strength and activity, rather than any skill or intelligence, and yet,
+to one entirely unused to such work, it came very hard. The heat was
+intense and overpowering, and there was much hurry to get the wheat,
+trodden out that day, through the fan; since, if that work was done an
+hour before sundown, the hands would have, according to a promise of
+Covey, that hour added to their night’s rest. I was not behind any of
+them in the wish to complete the day’s work before sundown, and, hence,
+I struggled with all my might to get the work forward. The promise of
+one hour’s repose on a week day, was sufficient to quicken my pace, and
+to spur me on to extra endeavor. Besides, we had all planned to go
+fishing, and I certainly wished to have a hand in that. But I was
+disappointed, and the day turned out to be one of the bitterest I ever
+experienced. About three o’clock, while the sun was pouring down his
+burning rays, and not a breeze was stirring, I broke down; my strength
+failed me; I was seized with a violent aching of the head, attended
+with extreme dizziness, and trembling in every limb. Finding what was
+coming, and feeling it would never do to stop work, I nerved myself up,
+and staggered on until I fell by the side of the wheat fan, feeling
+that the earth had fallen upon me. This brought the entire work to a
+dead stand. There was work for four; each one had his part to perform,
+and each part depended on the other, so that when one stopped, all were
+compelled to stop. Covey, who had now become my dread, as well as my
+tormentor, was at the house, about a hundred yards from where I was
+fanning, and instantly, upon hearing the fan stop, he came down to the
+treading yard, to inquire into the cause of our stopping. Bill Smith
+told him I was sick, and that I was unable longer to bring wheat to the
+fan.
+
+I had, by this time, crawled away, under the side of a post-and-rail
+fence, in the shade, and was exceeding ill. The intense heat of the
+sun, the heavy dust rising from the fan, the stooping, to take up the
+wheat from the yard, together with the hurrying, to get through, had
+caused a rush of blood to my head. In this condition, Covey finding out
+where I was, came to me; and, after standing over me a while, he asked
+me what the matter was. I told him as well as I could, for it was with
+difficulty that I could speak. He then gave me a savage kick in the
+side, which jarred my whole frame, and commanded me to get up. The man
+had obtained complete control over me; and if he had commanded me to do
+any possible thing, I should, in my then state of mind, have endeavored
+to comply. I made an effort to rise, but fell back in the attempt,
+before gaining my feet. The brute now gave me another heavy kick, and
+again told me to rise. I again tried to rise, and succeeded in gaining
+my feet; but upon stooping to get the tub with which I was feeding the
+fan, I again staggered and fell to the ground; and I must have so
+fallen, had I been sure that a hundred bullets would have pierced me,
+as the consequence. While down, in this sad condition, and perfectly
+helpless, the merciless Negro breaker took up the hickory slab, with
+which Hughes had been striking off the wheat to a level with the sides
+of the half bushel measure (a very hard weapon) and with the sharp edge
+of it, he dealt me a heavy blow on my head which made a large gash, and
+caused the blood to run freely, saying, at the same time, “If _you have
+got the headache, I’ll cure you_.” This done, he ordered me again to
+rise, but I made no effort to do so; for I had made up my mind that it
+was useless, and that the heartless monster might now do his worst; he
+could but kill me, and that might put me out of my misery. Finding me
+unable to rise, or rather despairing of my doing so, Covey left me,
+with a view to getting on with the work without me. I was bleeding very
+freely, and my face was soon covered with my warm blood. Cruel and
+merciless as was the motive that dealt that blow, dear reader, the
+wound was fortunate for me. Bleeding was never more efficacious. The
+pain in my head speedily abated, and I was soon able to rise. Covey
+had, as I have said, now left me to my fate; and the question was,
+shall I return to my work, or shall I find my way to St. Michael’s, and
+make Capt. Auld acquainted with the atrocious cruelty of his brother
+Covey, and beseech him to get me another master? Remembering the object
+he had in view, in placing me under the management of Covey, and
+further, his cruel treatment of my poor crippled cousin, Henny, and his
+meanness in the matter of feeding and clothing his slaves, there was
+little ground to hope for a favorable reception at the hands of Capt.
+Thomas Auld. Nevertheless, I resolved to go straight to Capt. Auld,
+thinking that, if not animated by motives of humanity, he might be
+induced to interfere on my behalf from selfish considerations. “He
+cannot,” thought I, “allow his property to be thus bruised and
+battered, marred and defaced; and I will go to him, and tell him the
+simple truth about the matter.” In order to get to St. Michael’s, by
+the most favorable and direct road, I must walk seven miles; and this,
+in my sad condition, was no easy performance. I had already lost much
+blood; I was exhausted by over exertion; my sides were sore from the
+heavy blows planted there by the stout boots of Mr. Covey; and I was,
+in every way, in an unfavorable plight for the journey. I however
+watched my chance, while the cruel and cunning Covey was looking in an
+opposite direction, and started off, across the field, for St.
+Michael’s. This was a daring step; if it failed, it would only
+exasperate Covey, and increase the rigors of my bondage, during the
+remainder of my term of service under him; but the step was taken, and
+I must go forward. I succeeded in getting nearly half way across the
+broad field, toward the woods, before Mr. Covey observed me. I was
+still bleeding, and the exertion of running had started the blood
+afresh. _“Come back! Come back!”_ vociferated Covey, with threats of
+what he would do if I did not return instantly. But, disregarding his
+calls and his threats, I pressed on toward the woods as fast as my
+feeble state would allow. Seeing no signs of my stopping, Covey caused
+his horse to be brought out and saddled, as if he intended to pursue
+me. The race was now to be an unequal one; and, thinking I might be
+overhauled by him, if I kept the main road, I walked nearly the whole
+distance in the woods, keeping far enough from the road to avoid
+detection and pursuit. But, I had not gone far, before my little
+strength again failed me, and I laid down. The blood was still oozing
+from the wound in my head; and, for a time, I suffered more than I can
+describe. There I was, in the deep woods, sick and emaciated, pursued
+by a wretch whose character for revolting cruelty beggars all
+opprobrious speech—bleeding, and almost bloodless. I was not without
+the fear of bleeding to death. The thought of dying in the woods, all
+alone, and of being torn to pieces by the buzzards, had not yet been
+rendered tolerable by my many troubles and hardships, and I was glad
+when the shade of the trees, and the cool evening breeze, combined with
+my matted hair to stop the flow of blood. After lying there about three
+quarters of an hour, brooding over the singular and mournful lot to
+which I was doomed, my mind passing over the whole scale or circle of
+belief and unbelief, from faith in the overruling providence of God, to
+the blackest atheism, I again took up my journey toward St. Michael’s,
+more weary and sad than in the morning when I left Thomas Auld’s for
+the home of Mr. Covey. I was bare-footed and bare-headed, and in my
+shirt sleeves. The way was through bogs and briers, and I tore my feet
+often during the journey. I was full five hours in going the seven or
+eight miles; partly, because of the difficulties of the way, and
+partly, because of the feebleness induced by my illness, bruises and
+loss of blood. On gaining my master’s store, I presented an appearance
+of wretchedness and woe, fitted to move any but a heart of stone. From
+the crown of my head to the sole of my feet, there were marks of blood.
+My hair was all clotted with dust and blood, and the back of my shirt
+was literally stiff with the same. Briers and thorns had scarred and
+torn my feet and legs, leaving blood marks there. Had I escaped from a
+den of tigers, I could not have looked worse than I did on reaching St.
+Michael’s. In this unhappy plight, I appeared before my professedly
+_Christian_ master, humbly to invoke the interposition of his power and
+authority, to protect me from further abuse and violence. I had begun
+to hope, during the latter part of my tedious journey toward St.
+Michael’s, that Capt. Auld would now show himself in a nobler light
+than I had ever before seen him. I was disappointed. I had jumped from
+a sinking ship into the sea; I had fled from the tiger to something
+worse. I told him all the circumstances, as well as I could; how I was
+endeavoring to please Covey; how hard I was at work in the present
+instance; how unwilling I sunk down under the heat, toil and pain; the
+brutal manner in which Covey had kicked me in the side; the gash cut in
+my head; my hesitation about troubling him (Capt. Auld) with
+complaints; but, that now I felt it would not be best longer to conceal
+from him the outrages committed on me from time to time by Covey. At
+first, master Thomas seemed somewhat affected by the story of my
+wrongs, but he soon repressed his feelings and became cold as iron. It
+was impossible—as I stood before him at the first—for him to seem
+indifferent. I distinctly saw his human nature asserting its conviction
+against the slave system, which made cases like mine _possible;_ but,
+as I have said, humanity fell before the systematic tyranny of slavery.
+He first walked the floor, apparently much agitated by my story, and
+the sad spectacle I presented; but, presently, it was _his_ turn to
+talk. He began moderately, by finding excuses for Covey, and ending
+with a full justification of him, and a passionate condemnation of me.
+“He had no doubt I deserved the flogging. He did not believe I was
+sick; I was only endeavoring to get rid of work. My dizziness was
+laziness, and Covey did right to flog me, as he had done.” After thus
+fairly annihilating me, and rousing himself by his own eloquence, he
+fiercely demanded what I wished _him_ to do in the case!
+
+With such a complete knock-down to all my hopes, as he had given me,
+and feeling, as I did, my entire subjection to his power, I had very
+little heart to reply. I must not affirm my innocence of the
+allegations which he had piled up against me; for that would be
+impudence, and would probably call down fresh violence as well as wrath
+upon me. The guilt of a slave is always, and everywhere, presumed; and
+the innocence of the slaveholder or the slave employer, is always
+asserted. The word of the slave, against this presumption, is generally
+treated as impudence, worthy of punishment. “Do you contradict me, you
+rascal?” is a final silencer of counter statements from the lips of a
+slave.
+
+Calming down a little in view of my silence and hesitation, and,
+perhaps, from a rapid glance at the picture of misery I presented, he
+inquired again, “what I would have him do?” Thus invited a second time,
+I told Master Thomas I wished him to allow me to get a new home and to
+find a new master; that, as sure as I went back to live with Mr. Covey
+again, I should be killed by him; that he would never forgive my coming
+to him (Capt. Auld) with a complaint against him (Covey); that, since I
+had lived with him, he almost crushed my spirit, and I believed that he
+would ruin me for future service; that my life was not safe in his
+hands. This, Master Thomas _(my brother in the church)_ regarded as
+“nonsence(sic).” “There was no danger of Mr. Covey’s killing me; he was
+a good man, industrious and religious, and he would not think of
+removing me from that home; besides,” said he and this I found was the
+most distressing thought of all to him—“if you should leave Covey now,
+that your year has but half expired, I should lose your wages for the
+entire year. You belong to Mr. Covey for one year, and you _must go
+back_ to him, come what will. You must not trouble me with any more
+stories about Mr. Covey; and if you do not go immediately home, I will
+get hold of you myself.” This was just what I expected, when I found he
+had _prejudged_ the case against me. “But, Sir,” I said, “I am sick and
+tired, and I cannot get home to-night.” At this, he again relented, and
+finally he allowed me to remain all night at St. Michael’s; but said I
+must be off early in the morning, and concluded his directions by
+making me swallow a huge dose of _epsom salts_—about the only medicine
+ever administered to slaves.
+
+It was quite natural for Master Thomas to presume I was feigning
+sickness to escape work, for he probably thought that were _he_ in the
+place of a slave with no wages for his work, no praise for well doing,
+no motive for toil but the lash—he would try every possible scheme by
+which to escape labor. I say I have no doubt of this; the reason is,
+that there are not, under the whole heavens, a set of men who cultivate
+such an intense dread of labor as do the slaveholders. The charge of
+laziness against the slave is ever on their lips, and is the standing
+apology for every species of cruelty and brutality. These men literally
+“bind heavy burdens, grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s
+shoulders; but they, themselves, will not move them with one of their
+fingers.”
+
+My kind readers shall have, in the next chapter—what they were led,
+perhaps, to expect to find in this—namely: an account of my partial
+disenthrallment from the tyranny of Covey, and the marked change which
+it brought about.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. _The Last Flogging_
+
+
+A SLEEPLESS NIGHT—RETURN TO COVEY’S—PURSUED BY COVEY—THE CHASE
+DEFEATED—VENGEANCE POSTPONED—MUSINGS IN THE WOODS—THE
+ALTERNATIVE—DEPLORABLE SPECTACLE—NIGHT IN THE WOODS—EXPECTED
+ATTACK—ACCOSTED BY SANDY, A FRIEND, NOT A HUNTER—SANDY’S
+HOSPITALITY—THE “ASH CAKE” SUPPER—THE INTERVIEW WITH SANDY—HIS
+ADVICE—SANDY A CONJURER AS WELL AS A CHRISTIAN—THE MAGIC ROOT—STRANGE
+MEETING WITH COVEY—HIS MANNER—COVEY’S SUNDAY FACE—MY DEFENSIVE
+RESOLVE—THE FIGHT—THE VICTORY, AND ITS RESULTS.
+
+
+Sleep itself does not always come to the relief of the weary in body,
+and the broken in spirit; especially when past troubles only foreshadow
+coming disasters. The last hope had been extinguished. My master, who I
+did not venture to hope would protect me as _a man_, had even now
+refused to protect me as _his property;_ and had cast me back, covered
+with reproaches and bruises, into the hands of a stranger to that mercy
+which was the soul of the religion he professed. May the reader never
+spend such a night as that allotted to me, previous to the morning
+which was to herald my return to the den of horrors from which I had
+made a temporary escape.
+
+I remained all night—sleep I did not—at St. Michael’s; and in the
+morning (Saturday) I started off, according to the order of Master
+Thomas, feeling that I had no friend on earth, and doubting if I had
+one in heaven. I reached Covey’s about nine o’clock; and just as I
+stepped into the field, before I had reached the house, Covey, true to
+his snakish habits, darted out at me from a fence corner, in which he
+had secreted himself, for the purpose of securing me. He was amply
+provided with a cowskin and a rope; and he evidently intended to _tie
+me up_, and to wreak his vengeance on me to the fullest extent. I
+should have been an easy prey, had he succeeded in getting his hands
+upon me, for I had taken no refreshment since noon on Friday; and this,
+together with the pelting, excitement, and the loss of blood, had
+reduced my strength. I, however, darted back into the woods, before the
+ferocious hound could get hold of me, and buried myself in a thicket,
+where he lost sight of me. The corn-field afforded me cover, in getting
+to the woods. But for the tall corn, Covey would have overtaken me, and
+made me his captive. He seemed very much chagrined that he did not
+catch me, and gave up the chase, very reluctantly; for I could see his
+angry movements, toward the house from which he had sallied, on his
+foray.
+
+Well, now I am clear of Covey, and of his wrathful lash, for present. I
+am in the wood, buried in its somber gloom, and hushed in its solemn
+silence; hid from all human eyes; shut in with nature and nature’s God,
+and absent from all human contrivances. Here was a good place to pray;
+to pray for help for deliverance—a prayer I had often made before. But
+how could I pray? Covey could pray—Capt. Auld could pray—I would fain
+pray; but doubts (arising partly from my own neglect of the means of
+grace, and partly from the sham religion which everywhere prevailed,
+cast in my mind a doubt upon all religion, and led me to the conviction
+that prayers were unavailing and delusive) prevented my embracing the
+opportunity, as a religious one. Life, in itself, had almost become
+burdensome to me. All my outward relations were against me; I must stay
+here and starve (I was already hungry) or go home to Covey’s, and have
+my flesh torn to pieces, and my spirit humbled under the cruel lash of
+Covey. This was the painful alternative presented to me. The day was
+long and irksome. My physical condition was deplorable. I was weak,
+from the toils of the previous day, and from the want of food and rest;
+and had been so little concerned about my appearance, that I had not
+yet washed the blood from my garments. I was an object of horror, even
+to myself. Life, in Baltimore, when most oppressive, was a paradise to
+this. What had I done, what had my parents done, that such a life as
+this should be mine? That day, in the woods, I would have exchanged my
+manhood for the brutehood of an ox.
+
+Night came. I was still in the woods, unresolved what to do. Hunger had
+not yet pinched me to the point of going home, and I laid myself down
+in the leaves to rest; for I had been watching for hunters all day, but
+not being molested during the day, I expected no disturbance during the
+night. I had come to the conclusion that Covey relied upon hunger to
+drive me home; and in this I was quite correct—the facts showed that he
+had made no effort to catch me, since morning.
+
+During the night, I heard the step of a man in the woods. He was coming
+toward the place where I lay. A person lying still has the advantage
+over one walking in the woods, in the day time, and this advantage is
+much greater at night. I was not able to engage in a physical struggle,
+and I had recourse to the common resort of the weak. I hid myself in
+the leaves to prevent discovery. But, as the night rambler in the woods
+drew nearer, I found him to be a _friend_, not an enemy; it was a slave
+of Mr. William Groomes, of Easton, a kind hearted fellow, named
+“Sandy.” Sandy lived with Mr. Kemp that year, about four miles from St.
+Michael’s. He, like myself had been hired out by the year; but, unlike
+myself, had not been hired out to be broken. Sandy was the husband of a
+free woman, who lived in the lower part of _“Potpie Neck,”_ and he was
+now on his way through the woods, to see her, and to spend the Sabbath
+with her.
+
+As soon as I had ascertained that the disturber of my solitude was not
+an enemy, but the good-hearted Sandy—a man as famous among the slaves
+of the neighborhood for his good nature, as for his good sense I came
+out from my hiding place, and made myself known to him. I explained the
+circumstances of the past two days, which had driven me to the woods,
+and he deeply compassionated my distress. It was a bold thing for him
+to shelter me, and I could not ask him to do so; for, had I been found
+in his hut, he would have suffered the penalty of thirty-nine lashes on
+his bare back, if not something worse. But Sandy was too generous to
+permit the fear of punishment to prevent his relieving a brother
+bondman from hunger and exposure; and, therefore, on his own motion, I
+accompanied him to his home, or rather to the home of his wife—for the
+house and lot were hers. His wife was called up—for it was now about
+midnight—a fire was made, some Indian meal was soon mixed with salt and
+water, and an ash cake was baked in a hurry to relieve my hunger.
+Sandy’s wife was not behind him in kindness—both seemed to esteem it a
+privilege to succor me; for, although I was hated by Covey and by my
+master, I was loved by the colored people, because _they_ thought I was
+hated for my knowledge, and persecuted because I was feared. I was the
+_only_ slave _now_ in that region who could read and write. There had
+been one other man, belonging to Mr. Hugh Hamilton, who could read (his
+name was “Jim”), but he, poor fellow, had, shortly after my coming into
+the neighborhood, been sold off to the far south. I saw Jim ironed, in
+the cart, to be carried to Easton for sale—pinioned like a yearling for
+the slaughter. My knowledge was now the pride of my brother slaves;
+and, no doubt, Sandy felt something of the general interest in me on
+that account. The supper was soon ready, and though I have feasted
+since, with honorables, lord mayors and aldermen, over the sea, my
+supper on ash cake and cold water, with Sandy, was the meal, of all my
+life, most sweet to my taste, and now most vivid in my memory.
+
+Supper over, Sandy and I went into a discussion of what was _possible_
+for me, under the perils and hardships which now overshadowed my path.
+The question was, must I go back to Covey, or must I now tempt to run
+away? Upon a careful survey, the latter was found to be impossible; for
+I was on a narrow neck of land, every avenue from which would bring me
+in sight of pursuers. There was the Chesapeake bay to the right, and
+“Pot-pie” river to the left, and St. Michael’s and its neighborhood
+occupying the only space through which there was any retreat.
+
+I found Sandy an old advisor. He was not only a religious man, but he
+professed to believe in a system for which I have no name. He was a
+genuine African, and had inherited some of the so-called magical
+powers, said to be possessed by African and eastern nations. He told me
+that he could help me; that, in those very woods, there was an herb,
+which in the morning might be found, possessing all the powers required
+for my protection (I put his thoughts in my own language); and that, if
+I would take his advice, he would procure me the root of the herb of
+which he spoke. He told me further, that if I would take that root and
+wear it on my right side, it would be impossible for Covey to strike me
+a blow; that with this root about my person, no white man could whip
+me. He said he had carried it for years, and that he had fully tested
+its virtues. He had never received a blow from a slaveholder since he
+carried it; and he never expected to receive one, for he always meant
+to carry that root as a protection. He knew Covey well, for Mrs. Covey
+was the daughter of Mr. Kemp; and he (Sandy) had heard of the barbarous
+treatment to which I was subjected, and he wanted to do something for
+me.
+
+Now all this talk about the root, was to me, very absurd and
+ridiculous, if not positively sinful. I at first rejected the idea that
+the simple carrying a root on my right side (a root, by the way, over
+which I walked every time I went into the woods) could possess any such
+magic power as he ascribed to it, and I was, therefore, not disposed to
+cumber my pocket with it. I had a positive aversion to all pretenders
+to _“divination.”_ It was beneath one of my intelligence to countenance
+such dealings with the devil, as this power implied. But, with all my
+learning—it was really precious little—Sandy was more than a match for
+me. “My book learning,” he said, “had not kept Covey off me” (a
+powerful argument just then) and he entreated me, with flashing eyes,
+to try this. If it did me no good, it could do me no harm, and it would
+cost me nothing, any way. Sandy was so earnest, and so confident of the
+good qualities of this weed, that, to please him, rather than from any
+conviction of its excellence, I was induced to take it. He had been to
+me the good Samaritan, and had, almost providentially, found me, and
+helped me when I could not help myself; how did I know but that the
+hand of the Lord was in it? With thoughts of this sort, I took the
+roots from Sandy, and put them in my right hand pocket.
+
+This was, of course, Sunday morning. Sandy now urged me to go home,
+with all speed, and to walk up bravely to the house, as though nothing
+had happened. I saw in Sandy too deep an insight into human nature,
+with all his superstition, not to have some respect for his advice; and
+perhaps, too, a slight gleam or shadow of his superstition had fallen
+upon me. At any rate, I started off toward Covey’s, as directed by
+Sandy. Having, the previous night, poured my griefs into Sandy’s ears,
+and got him enlisted in my behalf, having made his wife a sharer in my
+sorrows, and having, also, become well refreshed by sleep and food, I
+moved off, quite courageously, toward the much dreaded Covey’s.
+Singularly enough, just as I entered his yard gate, I met him and his
+wife, dressed in their Sunday best—looking as smiling as angels—on
+their way to church. The manner of Covey astonished me. There was
+something really benignant in his countenance. He spoke to me as never
+before; told me that the pigs had got into the lot, and he wished me to
+drive them out; inquired how I was, and seemed an altered man. This
+extraordinary conduct of Covey, really made me begin to think that
+Sandy’s herb had more virtue in it than I, in my pride, had been
+willing to allow; and, had the day been other than Sunday, I should
+have attributed Covey’s altered manner solely to the magic power of the
+root. I suspected, however, that the _Sabbath_, and not the _root_, was
+the real explanation of Covey’s manner. His religion hindered him from
+breaking the Sabbath, but not from breaking my skin. He had more
+respect for the _day_ than for the _man_, for whom the day was
+mercifully given; for while he would cut and slash my body during the
+week, he would not hesitate, on Sunday, to teach me the value of my
+soul, or the way of life and salvation by Jesus Christ.
+
+All went well with me till Monday morning; and then, whether the root
+had lost its virtue, or whether my tormentor had gone deeper into the
+black art than myself (as was sometimes said of him), or whether he had
+obtained a special indulgence, for his faithful Sabbath day’s worship,
+it is not necessary for me to know, or to inform the reader; but, this
+I _may_ say—the pious and benignant smile which graced Covey’s face on
+_Sunday_, wholly disappeared on _Monday_. Long before daylight, I was
+called up to go and feed, rub, and curry the horses. I obeyed the call,
+and would have so obeyed it, had it been made at an earilier(sic) hour,
+for I had brought my mind to a firm resolve, during that Sunday’s
+reflection, viz: to obey every order, however unreasonable, if it were
+possible, and, if Mr. Covey should then undertake to beat me, to defend
+and protect myself to the best of my ability. My religious views on the
+subject of resisting my master, had suffered a serious shock, by the
+savage persecution to which I had been subjected, and my hands were no
+longer tied by my religion. Master Thomas’s indifference had served the
+last link. I had now to this extent “backslidden” from this point in
+the slave’s religious creed; and I soon had occasion to make my fallen
+state known to my Sunday-pious brother, Covey.
+
+Whilst I was obeying his order to feed and get the horses ready for the
+field, and when in the act of going up the stable loft for the purpose
+of throwing down some blades, Covey sneaked into the stable, in his
+peculiar snake-like way, and seizing me suddenly by the leg, he brought
+me to the stable floor, giving my newly mended body a fearful jar. I
+now forgot my roots, and remembered my pledge to _stand up in my own
+defense_. The brute was endeavoring skillfully to get a slip-knot on my
+legs, before I could draw up my feet. As soon as I found what he was up
+to, I gave a sudden spring (my two day’s rest had been of much service
+to me,) and by that means, no doubt, he was able to bring me to the
+floor so heavily. He was defeated in his plan of tying me. While down,
+he seemed to think he had me very securely in his power. He little
+thought he was—as the rowdies say—“in” for a “rough and tumble” fight;
+but such was the fact. Whence came the daring spirit necessary to
+grapple with a man who, eight-and-forty hours before, could, with his
+slightest word have made me tremble like a leaf in a storm, I do not
+know; at any rate, _I was resolved to fight_, and, what was better
+still, I was actually hard at it. The fighting madness had come upon
+me, and I found my strong fingers firmly attached to the throat of my
+cowardly tormentor; as heedless of consequences, at the moment, as
+though we stood as equals before the law. The very color of the man was
+forgotten. I felt as supple as a cat, and was ready for the snakish
+creature at every turn. Every blow of his was parried, though I dealt
+no blows in turn. I was strictly on the _defensive_, preventing him
+from injuring me, rather than trying to injure him. I flung him on the
+ground several times, when he meant to have hurled me there. I held him
+so firmly by the throat, that his blood followed my nails. He held me,
+and I held him.
+
+All was fair, thus far, and the contest was about equal. My resistance
+was entirely unexpected, and Covey was taken all aback by it, for he
+trembled in every limb. _“Are you going to resist_, you scoundrel?”
+said he. To which, I returned a polite _“Yes sir;”_ steadily gazing my
+interrogator in the eye, to meet the first approach or dawning of the
+blow, which I expected my answer would call forth. But, the conflict
+did not long remain thus equal. Covey soon cried out lustily for help;
+not that I was obtaining any marked advantage over him, or was injuring
+him, but because he was gaining none over me, and was not able, single
+handed, to conquer me. He called for his cousin Hughs, to come to his
+assistance, and now the scene was changed. I was compelled to give
+blows, as well as to parry them; and, since I was, in any case, to
+suffer for resistance, I felt (as the musty proverb goes) that “I might
+as well be hanged for an old sheep as a lamb.” I was still _defensive_
+toward Covey, but _aggressive_ toward Hughs; and, at the first approach
+of the latter, I dealt a blow, in my desperation, which fairly sickened
+my youthful assailant. He went off, bending over with pain, and
+manifesting no disposition to come within my reach again. The poor
+fellow was in the act of trying to catch and tie my right hand, and
+while flattering himself with success, I gave him the kick which sent
+him staggering away in pain, at the same time that I held Covey with a
+firm hand.
+
+Taken completely by surprise, Covey seemed to have lost his usual
+strength and coolness. He was frightened, and stood puffing and
+blowing, seemingly unable to command words or blows. When he saw that
+poor Hughes was standing half bent with pain—his courage quite gone the
+cowardly tyrant asked if I “meant to persist in my resistance.” I told
+him “_I did mean to resist, come what might_;” that I had been by him
+treated like a _brute_, during the last six months; and that I should
+stand it _no longer_. With that, he gave me a shake, and attempted to
+drag me toward a stick of wood, that was lying just outside the stable
+door. He meant to knock me down with it; but, just as he leaned over to
+get the stick, I seized him with both hands by the collar, and, with a
+vigorous and sudden snatch, I brought my assailant harmlessly, his full
+length, on the _not_ overclean ground—for we were now in the cow yard.
+He had selected the place for the fight, and it was but right that he
+should have all the advantges(sic) of his own selection.
+
+By this time, Bill, the hiredman, came home. He had been to Mr.
+Hemsley’s, to spend the Sunday with his nominal wife, and was coming
+home on Monday morning, to go to work. Covey and I had been skirmishing
+from before daybreak, till now, that the sun was almost shooting his
+beams over the eastern woods, and we were still at it. I could not see
+where the matter was to terminate. He evidently was afraid to let me
+go, lest I should again make off to the woods; otherwise, he would
+probably have obtained arms from the house, to frighten me. Holding me,
+Covey called upon Bill for assistance. The scene here, had something
+comic about it. “Bill,” who knew _precisely_ what Covey wished him to
+do, affected ignorance, and pretended he did not know what to do. “What
+shall I do, Mr. Covey,” said Bill. “Take hold of him—take hold of him!”
+said Covey. With a toss of his head, peculiar to Bill, he said,
+“indeed, Mr. Covey I want to go to work.” _“This is_ your work,” said
+Covey; “take hold of him.” Bill replied, with spirit, “My master hired
+me here, to work, and _not_ to help you whip Frederick.” It was now my
+turn to speak. “Bill,” said I, “don’t put your hands on me.” To which
+he replied, “My GOD! Frederick, I ain’t goin’ to tech ye,” and Bill
+walked off, leaving Covey and myself to settle our matters as best we
+might.
+
+But, my present advantage was threatened when I saw Caroline (the
+slave-woman of Covey) coming to the cow yard to milk, for she was a
+powerful woman, and could have mastered me very easily, exhausted as I
+now was. As soon as she came into the yard, Covey attempted to rally
+her to his aid. Strangely—and, I may add, fortunately—Caroline was in
+no humor to take a hand in any such sport. We were all in open
+rebellion, that morning. Caroline answered the command of her master to
+_“take hold of me,”_ precisely as Bill had answered, but in _her_, it
+was at greater peril so to answer; she was the slave of Covey, and he
+could do what he pleased with her. It was _not_ so with Bill, and Bill
+knew it. Samuel Harris, to whom Bill belonged, did not allow his slaves
+to be beaten, unless they were guilty of some crime which the law would
+punish. But, poor Caroline, like myself, was at the mercy of the
+merciless Covey; nor did she escape the dire effects of her refusal. He
+gave her several sharp blows.
+
+Covey at length (two hours had elapsed) gave up the contest. Letting me
+go, he said—puffing and blowing at a great rate—“Now, you scoundrel, go
+to your work; I would not have whipped you half so much as I have had
+you not resisted.” The fact was, _he had not whipped me at all_. He had
+not, in all the scuffle, drawn a single drop of blood from me. I had
+drawn blood from him; and, even without this satisfaction, I should
+have been victorious, because my aim had not been to injure him, but to
+prevent his injuring me.
+
+During the whole six months that I lived with Covey, after this
+transaction, he never laid on me the weight of his finger in anger. He
+would, occasionally, say he did not want to have to get hold of me
+again—a declaration which I had no difficulty in believing; and I had a
+secret feeling, which answered, “You need not wish to get hold of me
+again, for you will be likely to come off worse in a second fight than
+you did in the first.”
+
+Well, my dear reader, this battle with Mr. Covey—undignified as it was,
+and as I fear my narration of it is—was the turning point in my _“life
+as a slave_.” It rekindled in my breast the smouldering embers of
+liberty; it brought up my Baltimore dreams, and revived a sense of my
+own manhood. I was a changed being after that fight. I was _nothing_
+before; I WAS A MAN NOW. It recalled to life my crushed self-respect
+and my self-confidence, and inspired me with a renewed determination to
+be A FREEMAN. A man, without force, is without the essential dignity of
+humanity. Human nature is so constituted, that it cannot _honor_ a
+helpless man, although it can _pity_ him; and even this it cannot do
+long, if the signs of power do not arise.
+
+He can only understand the effect of this combat on my spirit, who has
+himself incurred something, hazarded something, in repelling the unjust
+and cruel aggressions of a tyrant. Covey was a tyrant, and a cowardly
+one, withal. After resisting him, I felt as I had never felt before. It
+was a resurrection from the dark and pestiferous tomb of slavery, to
+the heaven of comparative freedom. I was no longer a servile coward,
+trembling under the frown of a brother worm of the dust, but, my
+long-cowed spirit was roused to an attitude of manly independence. I
+had reached the point, at which I was _not afraid to die_. This spirit
+made me a freeman in _fact_, while I remained a slave in _form_. When a
+slave cannot be flogged he is more than half free. He has a domain as
+broad as his own manly heart to defend, and he is really _“a power on
+earth_.” While slaves prefer their lives, with flogging, to instant
+death, they will always find Christians enough, like unto Covey, to
+accommodate that preference. From this time, until that of my escape
+from slavery, I was never fairly whipped. Several attempts were made to
+whip me, but they were always unsuccessful. Bruises I did get, as I
+shall hereafter inform the reader; but the case I have been describing,
+was the end of the brutification to which slavery had subjected me.
+
+The reader will be glad to know why, after I had so grievously offended
+Mr. Covey, he did not have me taken in hand by the authorities; indeed,
+why the law of Maryland, which assigns hanging to the slave who resists
+his master, was not put in force against me; at any rate, why I was not
+taken up, as is usual in such cases, and publicly whipped, for an
+example to other slaves, and as a means of deterring me from committing
+the same offense again. I confess, that the easy manner in which I got
+off, for a long time, a surprise to me, and I cannot, even now, fully
+explain the cause.
+
+The only explanation I can venture to suggest, is the fact, that Covey
+was, probably, ashamed to have it known and confessed that he had been
+mastered by a boy of sixteen. Mr. Covey enjoyed the unbounded and very
+valuable reputation, of being a first rate overseer and _Negro
+breaker_. By means of this reputation, he was able to procure his hands
+for _very trifling_ compensation, and with very great ease. His
+interest and his pride mutually suggested the wisdom of passing the
+matter by, in silence. The story that he had undertaken to whip a lad,
+and had been resisted, was, of itself, sufficient to damage him; for
+his bearing should, in the estimation of slaveholders, be of that
+imperial order that should make such an occurrence _impossible_. I
+judge from these circumstances, that Covey deemed it best to give me
+the go-by. It is, perhaps, not altogether creditable to my natural
+temper, that, after this conflict with Mr. Covey, I did, at times,
+purposely aim to provoke him to an attack, by refusing to keep with the
+other hands in the field, but I could never bully him to another
+battle. I had made up my mind to do him serious damage, if he ever
+again attempted to lay violent hands on me.
+
+Hereditary bondmen, know ye not
+Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. _New Relations and Duties_
+
+
+CHANGE OF MASTERS—BENEFITS DERIVED BY THE CHANGE—FAME OF THE FIGHT WITH
+COVEY—RECKLESS UNCONCERN—MY ABHORRENCE OF SLAVERY—ABILITY TO READ A
+CAUSE OF PREJUDICE—THE HOLIDAYS—HOW SPENT—SHARP HIT AT SLAVERY—EFFECTS
+OF HOLIDAYS—A DEVICE OF SLAVERY—DIFFERENCE BETWEEN COVEY AND
+FREELAND—AN IRRELIGIOUS MASTER PREFERRED TO A RELIGIOUS ONE—CATALOGUE
+OF FLOGGABLE OFFENSES—HARD LIFE AT COVEY’S USEFUL—IMPROVED CONDITION
+NOT FOLLOWED BY CONTENTMENT—CONGENIAL SOCIETY AT FREELAND’S—SABBATH
+SCHOOL INSTITUTED—SECRECY NECESSARY—AFFECTIONATE RELATIONS OF TUTOR AND
+PUPILS—CONFIDENCE AND FRIENDSHIP AMONG SLAVES—I DECLINE PUBLISHING
+PARTICULARS OF CONVERSATIONS WITH MY FRIENDS—SLAVERY THE INVITER OF
+VENGEANCE.
+
+
+My term of actual service to Mr. Edward Covey ended on Christmas day,
+1834. I gladly left the snakish Covey, although he was now as gentle as
+a lamb. My home for the year 1835 was already secured—my next master
+was already selected. There is always more or less excitement about the
+matter of changing hands, but I had become somewhat reckless. I cared
+very little into whose hands I fell—I meant to fight my way. Despite of
+Covey, too, the report got abroad, that I was hard to whip; that I was
+guilty of kicking back; that though generally a good tempered Negro, I
+sometimes “_got the devil in me_.” These sayings were rife in Talbot
+county, and they distinguished me among my servile brethren. Slaves,
+generally, will fight each other, and die at each other’s hands; but
+there are few who are not held in awe by a white man. Trained from the
+cradle up, to think and feel that their masters are superior, and
+invested with a sort of sacredness, there are few who can outgrow or
+rise above the control which that sentiment exercises. I had now got
+free from it, and the thing was known. One bad sheep will spoil a whole
+flock. Among the slaves, I was a bad sheep. I hated slavery,
+slaveholders, and all pertaining to them; and I did not fail to inspire
+others with the same feeling, wherever and whenever opportunity was
+presented. This made me a marked lad among the slaves, and a suspected
+one among the slaveholders. A knowledge of my ability to read and
+write, got pretty widely spread, which was very much against me.
+
+The days between Christmas day and New Year’s, are allowed the slaves
+as holidays. During these days, all regular work was suspended, and
+there was nothing to do but to keep fires, and look after the stock.
+This time was regarded as our own, by the grace of our masters, and we,
+therefore used it, or abused it, as we pleased. Those who had families
+at a distance, were now expected to visit them, and to spend with them
+the entire week. The younger slaves, or the unmarried ones, were
+expected to see to the cattle, and attend to incidental duties at home.
+The holidays were variously spent. The sober, thinking and industrious
+ones of our number, would employ themselves in manufacturing corn
+brooms, mats, horse collars and baskets, and some of these were very
+well made. Another class spent their time in hunting opossums, coons,
+rabbits, and other game. But the majority spent the holidays in sports,
+ball playing, wrestling, boxing, running foot races, dancing, and
+drinking whisky; and this latter mode of spending the time was
+generally most agreeable to their masters. A slave who would work
+during the holidays, was thought, by his master, undeserving of
+holidays. Such an one had rejected the favor of his master. There was,
+in this simple act of continued work, an accusation against slaves; and
+a slave could not help thinking, that if he made three dollars during
+the holidays, he might make three hundred during the year. Not to be
+drunk during the holidays, was disgraceful; and he was esteemed a lazy
+and improvident man, who could not afford to drink whisky during
+Christmas.
+
+The fiddling, dancing and _“jubilee beating_,” was going on in all
+directions. This latter performance is strictly southern. It supplies
+the place of a violin, or of other musical instruments, and is played
+so easily, that almost every farm has its “Juba” beater. The performer
+improvises as he beats, and sings his merry songs, so ordering the
+words as to have them fall pat with the movement of his hands. Among a
+mass of nonsense and wild frolic, once in a while a sharp hit is given
+to the meanness of slaveholders. Take the following, for an example:
+
+_We raise de wheat,
+Dey gib us de corn;
+We bake de bread,
+Dey gib us de cruss;
+We sif de meal,
+Dey gib us de huss;
+We peal de meat,
+Dey gib us de skin,
+And dat’s de way
+Dey takes us in.
+We skim de pot,
+Dey gib us the liquor,
+And say dat’s good enough for nigger.
+          Walk over! walk over!
+Tom butter and de fat;
+          Poor nigger you can’t get over dat;
+                              Walk over_!
+
+
+This is not a bad summary of the palpable injustice and fraud of
+slavery, giving—as it does—to the lazy and idle, the comforts which God
+designed should be given solely to the honest laborer. But to the
+holiday’s.
+
+Judging from my own observation and experience, I believe these
+holidays to be among the most effective means, in the hands of
+slaveholders, of keeping down the spirit of insurrection among the
+slaves.
+
+To enslave men, successfully and safely, it is necessary to have their
+minds occupied with thoughts and aspirations short of the liberty of
+which they are deprived. A certain degree of attainable good must be
+kept before them. These holidays serve the purpose of keeping the minds
+of the slaves occupied with prospective pleasure, within the limits of
+slavery. The young man can go wooing; the married man can visit his
+wife; the father and mother can see their children; the industrious and
+money loving can make a few dollars; the great wrestler can win
+laurels; the young people can meet, and enjoy each other’s society; the
+drunken man can get plenty of whisky; and the religious man can hold
+prayer meetings, preach, pray and exhort during the holidays. Before
+the holidays, these are pleasures in prospect; after the holidays, they
+become pleasures of memory, and they serve to keep out thoughts and
+wishes of a more dangerous character. Were slaveholders at once to
+abandon the practice of allowing their slaves these liberties,
+periodically, and to keep them, the year round, closely confined to the
+narrow circle of their homes, I doubt not that the south would blaze
+with insurrections. These holidays are conductors or safety valves to
+carry off the explosive elements inseparable from the human mind, when
+reduced to the condition of slavery. But for these, the rigors of
+bondage would become too severe for endurance, and the slave would be
+forced up to dangerous desperation. Woe to the slaveholder when he
+undertakes to hinder or to prevent the operation of these electric
+conductors. A succession of earthquakes would be less destructive, than
+the insurrectionary fires which would be sure to burst forth in
+different parts of the south, from such interference.
+
+Thus, the holidays, became part and parcel of the gross fraud, wrongs
+and inhumanity of slavery. Ostensibly, they are institutions of
+benevolence, designed to mitigate the rigors of slave life, but,
+practically, they are a fraud, instituted by human selfishness, the
+better to secure the ends of injustice and oppression. The slave’s
+happiness is not the end sought, but, rather, the master’s safety. It
+is not from a generous unconcern for the slave’s labor that this
+cessation from labor is allowed, but from a prudent regard to the
+safety of the slave system. I am strengthened in this opinion, by the
+fact, that most slaveholders like to have their slaves spend the
+holidays in such a manner as to be of no real benefit to the slaves. It
+is plain, that everything like rational enjoyment among the slaves, is
+frowned upon; and only those wild and low sports, peculiar to
+semi-civilized people, are encouraged. All the license allowed, appears
+to have no other object than to disgust the slaves with their temporary
+freedom, and to make them as glad to return to their work, as they were
+to leave it. By plunging them into exhausting depths of drunkenness and
+dissipation, this effect is almost certain to follow. I have known
+slaveholders resort to cunning tricks, with a view of getting their
+slaves deplorably drunk. A usual plan is, to make bets on a slave, that
+he can drink more whisky than any other; and so to induce a rivalry
+among them, for the mastery in this degradation. The scenes, brought
+about in this way, were often scandalous and loathsome in the extreme.
+Whole multitudes might be found stretched out in brutal drunkenness, at
+once helpless and disgusting. Thus, when the slave asks for a few hours
+of virtuous freedom, his cunning master takes advantage of his
+ignorance, and cheers him with a dose of vicious and revolting
+dissipation, artfully labeled with the name of LIBERTY. We were induced
+to drink, I among the rest, and when the holidays were over, we all
+staggered up from our filth and wallowing, took a long breath, and went
+away to our various fields of work; feeling, upon the whole, rather
+glad to go from that which our masters artfully deceived us into the
+belief was freedom, back again to the arms of slavery. It was not what
+we had taken it to be, nor what it might have been, had it not been
+abused by us. It was about as well to be a slave to _master_, as to be
+a slave to _rum_ and _whisky._
+
+I am the more induced to take this view of the holiday system, adopted
+by slaveholders, from what I know of their treatment of slaves, in
+regard to other things. It is the commonest thing for them to try to
+disgust their slaves with what they do not want them to have, or to
+enjoy. A slave, for instance, likes molasses; he steals some; to cure
+him of the taste for it, his master, in many cases, will go away to
+town, and buy a large quantity of the _poorest_ quality, and set it
+before his slave, and, with whip in hand, compel him to eat it, until
+the poor fellow is made to sicken at the very thought of molasses. The
+same course is often adopted to cure slaves of the disagreeable and
+inconvenient practice of asking for more food, when their allowance has
+failed them. The same disgusting process works well, too, in other
+things, but I need not cite them. When a slave is drunk, the
+slaveholder has no fear that he will plan an insurrection; no fear that
+he will escape to the north. It is the sober, thinking slave who is
+dangerous, and needs the vigilance of his master, to keep him a slave.
+But, to proceed with my narrative.
+
+On the first of January, 1835, I proceeded from St. Michael’s to Mr.
+William Freeland’s, my new home. Mr. Freeland lived only three miles
+from St. Michael’s, on an old worn out farm, which required much labor
+to restore it to anything like a self-supporting establishment.
+
+I was not long in finding Mr. Freeland to be a very different man from
+Mr. Covey. Though not rich, Mr. Freeland was what may be called a
+well-bred southern gentleman, as different from Covey, as a
+well-trained and hardened Negro breaker is from the best specimen of
+the first families of the south. Though Freeland was a slaveholder, and
+shared many of the vices of his class, he seemed alive to the sentiment
+of honor. He had some sense of justice, and some feelings of humanity.
+He was fretful, impulsive and passionate, but I must do him the justice
+to say, he was free from the mean and selfish characteristics which
+distinguished the creature from which I had now, happily, escaped. He
+was open, frank, imperative, and practiced no concealments, disdaining
+to play the spy. In all this, he was the opposite of the crafty Covey.
+
+Among the many advantages gained in my change from Covey’s to
+Freeland’s—startling as the statement may be—was the fact that the
+latter gentleman made no profession of religion. I assert _most
+unhesitatingly_, that the religion of the south—as I have observed it
+and proved it—is a mere covering for the most horrid crimes; the
+justifier of the most appalling barbarity; a sanctifier of the most
+hateful frauds; and a secure shelter, under which the darkest, foulest,
+grossest, and most infernal abominations fester and flourish. Were I
+again to be reduced to the condition of a slave, _next_ to that
+calamity, I should regard the fact of being the slave of a religious
+slaveholder, the greatest that could befall me. For all slaveholders
+with whom I have ever met, religious slaveholders are the worst. I have
+found them, almost invariably, the vilest, meanest and basest of their
+class. Exceptions there may be, but this is true of religious
+slaveholders, _as a class_. It is not for me to explain the fact.
+Others may do that; I simply state it as a fact, and leave the
+theological, and psychological inquiry, which it raises, to be decided
+by others more competent than myself. Religious slaveholders, like
+religious persecutors, are ever extreme in their malice and violence.
+Very near my new home, on an adjoining farm, there lived the Rev.
+Daniel Weeden, who was both pious and cruel after the real Covey
+pattern. Mr. Weeden was a local preacher of the Protestant Methodist
+persuasion, and a most zealous supporter of the ordinances of religion,
+generally. This Weeden owned a woman called “Ceal,” who was a standing
+proof of his mercilessness. Poor Ceal’s back, always scantily clothed,
+was kept literally raw, by the lash of this religious man and gospel
+minister. The most notoriously wicked man—so called in distinction from
+church members—could hire hands more easily than this brute. When sent
+out to find a home, a slave would never enter the gates of the preacher
+Weeden, while a sinful sinner needed a hand. Be have ill, or behave
+well, it was the known maxim of Weeden, that it is the duty of a master
+to use the lash. If, for no other reason, he contended that this was
+essential to remind a slave of his condition, and of his master’s
+authority. The good slave must be whipped, to be _kept_ good, and the
+bad slave must be whipped, to be _made_ good. Such was Weeden’s theory,
+and such was his practice. The back of his slave-woman will, in the
+judgment, be the swiftest witness against him.
+
+While I am stating particular cases, I might as well immortalize
+another of my neighbors, by calling him by name, and putting him in
+print. He did not think that a “chiel” was near, “taking notes,” and
+will, doubtless, feel quite angry at having his character touched off
+in the ragged style of a slave’s pen. I beg to introduce the reader to
+REV. RIGBY HOPKINS. Mr. Hopkins resides between Easton and St.
+Michael’s, in Talbot county, Maryland. The severity of this man made
+him a perfect terror to the slaves of his neighborhood. The peculiar
+feature of his government, was, his system of whipping slaves, as he
+said, _in advance_ of deserving it. He always managed to have one or
+two slaves to whip on Monday morning, so as to start his hands to their
+work, under the inspiration of a new assurance on Monday, that his
+preaching about kindness, mercy, brotherly love, and the like, on
+Sunday, did not interfere with, or prevent him from establishing his
+authority, by the cowskin. He seemed to wish to assure them, that his
+tears over poor, lost and ruined sinners, and his pity for them, did
+not reach to the blacks who tilled his fields. This saintly Hopkins
+used to boast, that he was the best hand to manage a Negro in the
+county. He whipped for the smallest offenses, by way of preventing the
+commission of large ones.
+
+The reader might imagine a difficulty in finding faults enough for such
+frequent whipping. But this is because you have no idea how easy a
+matter it is to offend a man who is on the look-out for offenses. The
+man, unaccustomed to slaveholding, would be astonished to observe how
+many _foggable_ offenses there are in the slaveholder’s catalogue of
+crimes; and how easy it is to commit any one of them, even when the
+slave least intends it. A slaveholder, bent on finding fault, will
+hatch up a dozen a day, if he chooses to do so, and each one of these
+shall be of a punishable description. A mere look, word, or motion, a
+mistake, accident, or want of power, are all matters for which a slave
+may be whipped at any time. Does a slave look dissatisfied with his
+condition? It is said, that he has the devil in him, and it must be
+whipped out. Does he answer _loudly_, when spoken to by his master,
+with an air of self-consciousness? Then, must he be taken down a
+button-hole lower, by the lash, well laid on. Does he forget, and omit
+to pull off his hat, when approaching a white person? Then, he must, or
+may be, whipped for his bad manners. Does he ever venture to vindicate
+his conduct, when harshly and unjustly accused? Then, he is guilty of
+impudence, one of the greatest crimes in the social catalogue of
+southern society. To allow a slave to escape punishment, who has
+impudently attempted to exculpate himself from unjust charges,
+preferred against him by some white person, is to be guilty of great
+dereliction of duty. Does a slave ever venture to suggest a better way
+of doing a thing, no matter what? He is, altogether, too officious—wise
+above what is written—and he deserves, even if he does not get, a
+flogging for his presumption. Does he, while plowing, break a plow, or
+while hoeing, break a hoe, or while chopping, break an ax? No matter
+what were the imperfections of the implement broken, or the natural
+liabilities for breaking, the slave can be whipped for carelessness.
+The _reverend_ slaveholder could always find something of this sort, to
+justify him in using the lash several times during the week.
+Hopkins—like Covey and Weeden—were shunned by slaves who had the
+privilege (as many had) of finding their own masters at the end of each
+year; and yet, there was not a man in all that section of country, who
+made a louder profession of religion, than did MR. RIGBY HOPKINS.
+
+But, to continue the thread of my story, through my experience when at
+Mr. William Freeland’s.
+
+My poor, weather-beaten bark now reached smoother water, and gentler
+breezes. My stormy life at Covey’s had been of service to me. The
+things that would have seemed very hard, had I gone direct to Mr.
+Freeland’s, from the home of Master Thomas, were now (after the
+hardships at Covey’s) “trifles light as air.” I was still a field hand,
+and had come to prefer the severe labor of the field, to the enervating
+duties of a house servant. I had become large and strong; and had begun
+to take pride in the fact, that I could do as much hard work as some of
+the older men. There is much rivalry among slaves, at times, as to
+which can do the most work, and masters generally seek to promote such
+rivalry. But some of us were too wise to race with each other very
+long. Such racing, we had the sagacity to see, was not likely to pay.
+We had our times for measuring each other’s strength, but we knew too
+much to keep up the competition so long as to produce an extraordinary
+day’s work. We knew that if, by extraordinary exertion, a large
+quantity of work was done in one day, the fact, becoming known to the
+master, might lead him to require the same amount every day. This
+thought was enough to bring us to a dead halt when over so much excited
+for the race.
+
+At Mr. Freeland’s, my condition was every way improved. I was no longer
+the poor scape-goat that I was when at Covey’s, where every wrong thing
+done was saddled upon me, and where other slaves were whipped over my
+shoulders. Mr. Freeland was too just a man thus to impose upon me, or
+upon any one else.
+
+It is quite usual to make one slave the object of especial abuse, and
+to beat him often, with a view to its effect upon others, rather than
+with any expectation that the slave whipped will be improved by it, but
+the man with whom I now was, could descend to no such meanness and
+wickedness. Every man here was held individually responsible for his
+own conduct.
+
+This was a vast improvement on the rule at Covey’s. There, I was the
+general pack horse. Bill Smith was protected, by a positive prohibition
+made by his rich master, and the command of the rich slaveholder is LAW
+to the poor one; Hughes was favored, because of his relationship to
+Covey; and the hands hired temporarily, escaped flogging, except as
+they got it over my poor shoulders. Of course, this comparison refers
+to the time when Covey _could_ whip me.
+
+Mr. Freeland, like Mr. Covey, gave his hands enough to eat, but, unlike
+Mr. Covey, he gave them time to take their meals; he worked us hard
+during the day, but gave us the night for rest—another advantage to be
+set to the credit of the sinner, as against that of the saint. We were
+seldom in the field after dark in the evening, or before sunrise in the
+morning. Our implements of husbandry were of the most improved pattern,
+and much superior to those used at Covey’s.
+
+Nothwithstanding the improved condition which was now mine, and the
+many advantages I had gained by my new home, and my new master, I was
+still restless and discontented. I was about as hard to please by a
+master, as a master is by slave. The freedom from bodily torture and
+unceasing labor, had given my mind an increased sensibility, and
+imparted to it greater activity. I was not yet exactly in right
+relations. “How be it, that was not first which is spiritual, but that
+which is natural, and afterward that which is spiritual.” When entombed
+at Covey’s, shrouded in darkness and physical wretchedness, temporal
+wellbeing was the grand _desideratum;_ but, temporal wants supplied,
+the spirit puts in its claims. Beat and cuff your slave, keep him
+hungry and spiritless, and he will follow the chain of his master like
+a dog; but, feed and clothe him well—work him moderately—surround him
+with physical comfort—and dreams of freedom intrude. Give him a _bad_
+master, and he aspires to a _good_ master; give him a good master, and
+he wishes to become his _own_ master. Such is human nature. You may
+hurl a man so low, beneath the level of his kind, that he loses all
+just ideas of his natural position; but elevate him a little, and the
+clear conception of rights arises to life and power, and leads him
+onward. Thus elevated, a little, at Freeland’s, the dreams called into
+being by that good man, Father Lawson, when in Baltimore, began to
+visit me; and shoots from the tree of liberty began to put forth tender
+buds, and dim hopes of the future began to dawn.
+
+I found myself in congenial society, at Mr. Freeland’s. There were
+Henry Harris, John Harris, Handy Caldwell, and Sandy Jenkins. 6
+
+Henry and John were brothers, and belonged to Mr. Freeland. They were
+both remarkably bright and intelligent, though neither of them could
+read. Now for mischief! I had not been long at Freeland’s before I was
+up to my old tricks. I early began to address my companions on the
+subject of education, and the advantages of intelligence over
+ignorance, and, as far as I dared, I tried to show the agency of
+ignorance in keeping men in slavery. Webster’s spelling book and the
+_Columbian Orator_ were looked into again. As summer came on, and the
+long Sabbath days stretched themselves over our idleness, I became
+uneasy, and wanted a Sabbath school, in which to exercise my gifts, and
+to impart the little knowledge of letters which I possessed, to my
+brother slaves. A house was hardly necessary in the summer time; I
+could hold my school under the shade of an old oak tree, as well as any
+where else. The thing was, to get the scholars, and to have them
+thoroughly imbued with the desire to learn. Two such boys were quickly
+secured, in Henry and John, and from them the contagion spread. I was
+not long bringing around me twenty or thirty young men, who enrolled
+themselves, gladly, in my Sabbath school, and were willing to meet me
+regularly, under the trees or elsewhere, for the purpose of learning to
+read. It was surprising with what ease they provided themselves with
+spelling books. These were mostly the cast off books of their young
+masters or mistresses. I taught, at first, on our own farm. All were
+impressed with the necessity of keeping the matter as private as
+possible, for the fate of the St. Michael’s attempt was notorious, and
+fresh in the minds of all. Our pious masters, at St. Michael’s, must
+not know that a few of their dusky brothers were learning to read the
+word of God, lest they should come down upon us with the lash and
+chain. We might have met to drink whisky, to wrestle, fight, and to do
+other unseemly things, with no fear of interruption from the saints or
+sinners of St. Michael’s.
+
+But, to meet for the purpose of improving the mind and heart, by
+learning to read the sacred scriptures, was esteemed a most dangerous
+nuisance, to be instantly stopped. The slaveholders of St. Michael’s,
+like slaveholders elsewhere, would always prefer to see the slaves
+engaged in degrading sports, rather than to see them acting like moral
+and accountable beings.
+
+Had any one asked a religious white man, in St. Michael’s, twenty years
+ago, the names of three men in that town, whose lives were most after
+the pattern of our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, the first three would
+have been as follows:
+
+GARRISON WEST, _Class Leader_.
+WRIGHT FAIRBANKS, _Class Leader_.
+THOMAS AULD, _Class Leader_.
+
+
+And yet, these were men who ferociously rushed in upon my Sabbath
+school, at St. Michael’s, armed with mob-like missiles, and I must say,
+I thought him a Christian, until he took part in bloody by the lash.
+This same Garrison West was my class leader, and I must say, I thought
+him a Christian, until he took part in breaking up my school. He led me
+no more after that. The plea for this outrage was then, as it is now
+and at all times—the danger to good order. If the slaves learnt to
+read, they would learn something else, and something worse. The peace
+of slavery would be disturbed; slave rule would be endangered. I leave
+the reader to characterize a system which is endangered by such causes.
+I do not dispute the soundness of the reasoning. It is perfectly sound;
+and, if slavery be _right_, Sabbath schools for teaching slaves to read
+the bible are _wrong_, and ought to be put down. These Christian class
+leaders were, to this extent, consistent. They had settled the
+question, that slavery is _right_, and, by that standard, they
+determined that Sabbath schools are wrong. To be sure, they were
+Protestant, and held to the great Protestant right of every man to
+_“search the scriptures”_ for himself; but, then, to all general rules,
+there are _exceptions_. How convenient! What crimes may not be
+committed under the doctrine of the last remark. But, my dear, class
+leading Methodist brethren, did not condescend to give me a reason for
+breaking up the Sabbath school at St. Michael’s; it was enough that
+they had determined upon its destruction. I am, however, digressing.
+
+After getting the school cleverly into operation, the second time
+holding it in the woods, behind the barn, and in the shade of trees—I
+succeeded in inducing a free colored man, who lived several miles from
+our house, to permit me to hold my school in a room at his house. He,
+very kindly, gave me this liberty; but he incurred much peril in doing
+so, for the assemblage was an unlawful one. I shall not mention, here,
+the name of this man; for it might, even now, subject him to
+persecution, although the offenses were committed more than twenty
+years ago. I had, at one time, more than forty scholars, all of the
+right sort; and many of them succeeded in learning to read. I have met
+several slaves from Maryland, who were once my scholars; and who
+obtained their freedom, I doubt not, partly in consequence of the ideas
+imparted to them in that school. I have had various employments during
+my short life; but I look back to _none_ with more satisfaction, than
+to that afforded by my Sunday school. An attachment, deep and lasting,
+sprung up between me and my persecuted pupils, which made parting from
+them intensely grievous; and, when I think that most of these dear
+souls are yet shut up in this abject thralldom, I am overwhelmed with
+grief.
+
+Besides my Sunday school, I devoted three evenings a week to my fellow
+slaves, during the winter. Let the reader reflect upon the fact, that,
+in this christian country, men and women are hiding from professors of
+religion, in barns, in the woods and fields, in order to learn to read
+the _holy bible_. Those dear souls, who came to my Sabbath school, came
+_not_ because it was popular or reputable to attend such a place, for
+they came under the liability of having forty stripes laid on their
+naked backs. Every moment they spend in my school, they were under this
+terrible liability; and, in this respect, I was sharer with them. Their
+minds had been cramped and starved by their cruel masters; the light of
+education had been completely excluded; and their hard earnings had
+been taken to educate their master’s children. I felt a delight in
+circumventing the tyrants, and in blessing the victims of their curses.
+
+The year at Mr. Freeland’s passed off very smoothly, to outward
+seeming. Not a blow was given me during the whole year. To the credit
+of Mr. Freeland—irreligious though he was—it must be stated, that he
+was the best master I ever had, until I became my own master, and
+assumed for myself, as I had a right to do, the responsibility of my
+own existence and the exercise of my own powers. For much of the
+happiness—or absence of misery—with which I passed this year with Mr.
+Freeland, I am indebted to the genial temper and ardent friendship of
+my brother slaves. They were, every one of them, manly, generous and
+brave, yes; I say they were brave, and I will add, fine looking. It is
+seldom the lot of mortals to have truer and better friends than were
+the slaves on this farm. It is not uncommon to charge slaves with great
+treachery toward each other, and to believe them incapable of confiding
+in each other; but I must say, that I never loved, esteemed, or
+confided in men, more than I did in these. They were as true as steel,
+and no band of brothers could have been more loving. There were no mean
+advantages taken of each other, as is sometimes the case where slaves
+are situated as we were; no tattling; no giving each other bad names to
+Mr. Freeland; and no elevating one at the expense of the other. We
+never undertook to do any thing, of any importance, which was likely to
+affect each other, without mutual consultation. We were generally a
+unit, and moved together. Thoughts and sentiments were exchanged
+between us, which might well be called very incendiary, by oppressors
+and tyrants; and perhaps the time has not even now come, when it is
+safe to unfold all the flying suggestions which arise in the minds of
+intelligent slaves. Several of my friends and brothers, if yet alive,
+are still in some part of the house of bondage; and though twenty years
+have passed away, the suspicious malice of slavery might punish them
+for even listening to my thoughts.
+
+The slaveholder, kind or cruel, is a slaveholder still—the every hour
+violator of the just and inalienable rights of man; and he is,
+therefore, every hour silently whetting the knife of vengeance for his
+own throat. He never lisps a syllable in commendation of the fathers of
+this republic, nor denounces any attempted oppression of himself,
+without inviting the knife to his own throat, and asserting the rights
+of rebellion for his own slaves.
+
+The year is ended, and we are now in the midst of the Christmas
+holidays, which are kept this year as last, according to the general
+description previously given.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. _The Run-Away Plot_
+
+
+NEW YEAR’S THOUGHTS AND MEDITATIONS—AGAIN BOUGHT BY FREELAND—NO
+AMBITION TO BE A SLAVE—KINDNESS NO COMPENSATION FOR SLAVERY—INCIPIENT
+STEPS TOWARD ESCAPE—CONSIDERATIONS LEADING THERETO—IRRECONCILABLE
+HOSTILITY TO SLAVERY—SOLEMN VOW TAKEN—PLAN DIVULGED TO THE
+SLAVES—_Columbian Orator—_SCHEME GAINS FAVOR, DESPITE PRO-SLAVERY
+PREACHING—DANGER OF DISCOVERY—SKILL OF SLAVEHOLDERS IN READING THE
+MINDS OF THEIR SLAVES—SUSPICION AND COERCION—HYMNS WITH DOUBLE
+MEANING—VALUE, IN DOLLARS, OF OUR COMPANY—PRELIMINARY
+CONSULTATION—PASS-WORD—CONFLICTS OF HOPE AND FEAR—DIFFICULTIES TO BE
+OVERCOME—IGNORANCE OF GEOGRAPHY—SURVEY OF IMAGINARY DIFFICULTIES—EFFECT
+ON OUR MINDS—PATRICK HENRY—SANDY BECOMES A DREAMER—ROUTE TO THE NORTH
+LAID OUT—OBJECTIONS CONSIDERED—FRAUDS PRACTICED ON FREEMEN—PASSES
+WRITTEN—ANXIETIES AS THE TIME DREW NEAR—DREAD OF FAILURE—APPEALS TO
+COMRADES—STRANGE PRESENTIMENT—COINCIDENCE—THE BETRAYAL DISCOVERED—THE
+MANNER OF ARRESTING US—RESISTANCE MADE BY HENRY HARRIS—ITS EFFECT—THE
+UNIQUE SPEECH OF MRS. FREELAND—OUR SAD PROCESSION TO PRISON—BRUTAL
+JEERS BY THE MULTITUDE ALONG THE ROAD—PASSES EATEN—THE DENIAL—SANDY TOO
+WELL LOVED TO BE SUSPECTED—DRAGGED BEHIND HORSES—THE JAIL A RELIEF—A
+NEW SET OF TORMENTORS—SLAVE-TRADERS—JOHN, CHARLES AND HENRY
+RELEASED—ALONE IN PRISON—I AM TAKEN OUT, AND SENT TO BALTIMORE.
+
+
+I am now at the beginning of the year 1836, a time favorable for
+serious thoughts. The mind naturally occupies itself with the mysteries
+of life in all its phases—the ideal, the real and the actual. Sober
+people look both ways at the beginning of the year, surveying the
+errors of the past, and providing against possible errors of the
+future. I, too, was thus exercised. I had little pleasure in
+retrospect, and the prospect was not very brilliant. “Notwithstanding,”
+thought I, “the many resolutions and prayers I have made, in behalf of
+freedom, I am, this first day of the year 1836, still a slave, still
+wandering in the depths of spirit-devouring thralldom. My faculties and
+powers of body and soul are not my own, but are the property of a
+fellow mortal, in no sense superior to me, except that he has the
+physical power to compel me to be owned and controlled by him. By the
+combined physical force of the community, I am his slave—a slave for
+life.” With thoughts like these, I was perplexed and chafed; they
+rendered me gloomy and disconsolate. The anguish of my mind may not be
+written.
+
+At the close of the year 1835, Mr. Freeland, my temporary master, had
+bought me of Capt. Thomas Auld, for the year 1836. His promptness in
+securing my services, would have been flattering to my vanity, had I
+been ambitious to win the reputation of being a valuable slave. Even as
+it was, I felt a slight degree of complacency at the circumstance. It
+showed he was as well pleased with me as a slave, as I was with him as
+a master. I have already intimated my regard for Mr. Freeland, and I
+may say here, in addressing northern readers—where is no selfish motive
+for speaking in praise of a slaveholder—that Mr. Freeland was a man of
+many excellent qualities, and to me quite preferable to any master I
+ever had.
+
+But the kindness of the slavemaster only gilds the chain of slavery,
+and detracts nothing from its weight or power. The thought that men are
+made for other and better uses than slavery, thrives best under the
+gentle treatment of a kind master. But the grim visage of slavery can
+assume no smiles which can fascinate the partially enlightened slave,
+into a forgetfulness of his bondage, nor of the desirableness of
+liberty.
+
+I was not through the first month of this, my second year with the kind
+and gentlemanly Mr. Freeland, before I was earnestly considering and
+advising plans for gaining that freedom, which, when I was but a mere
+child, I had ascertained to be the natural and inborn right of every
+member of the human family. The desire for this freedom had been
+benumbed, while I was under the brutalizing dominion of Covey; and it
+had been postponed, and rendered inoperative, by my truly pleasant
+Sunday school engagements with my friends, during the year 1835, at Mr.
+Freeland’s. It had, however, never entirely subsided. I hated slavery,
+always, and the desire for freedom only needed a favorable breeze, to
+fan it into a blaze, at any moment. The thought of only being a
+creature of the _present_ and the _past_, troubled me, and I longed to
+have a _future_—a future with hope in it. To be shut up entirely to the
+past and present, is abhorrent to the human mind; it is to the
+soul—whose life and happiness is unceasing progress—what the prison is
+to the body; a blight and mildew, a hell of horrors. The dawning of
+this, another year, awakened me from my temporary slumber, and roused
+into life my latent, but long cherished aspirations for freedom. I was
+now not only ashamed to be contented in slavery, but ashamed to _seem_
+to be contented, and in my present favorable condition, under the mild
+rule of Mr. F., I am not sure that some kind reader will not condemn me
+for being over ambitious, and greatly wanting in proper humility, when
+I say the truth, that I now drove from me all thoughts of making the
+best of my lot, and welcomed only such thoughts as led me away from the
+house of bondage. The intense desires, now felt, _to be free_,
+quickened by my present favorable circumstances, brought me to the
+determination to act, as well as to think and speak. Accordingly, at
+the beginning of this year 1836, I took upon me a solemn vow, that the
+year which had now dawned upon me should not close, without witnessing
+an earnest attempt, on my part, to gain my liberty. This vow only bound
+me to make my escape individually; but the year spent with Mr. Freeland
+had attached me, as with “hooks of steel,” to my brother slaves. The
+most affectionate and confiding friendship existed between us; and I
+felt it my duty to give them an opportunity to share in my virtuous
+determination by frankly disclosing to them my plans and purposes.
+Toward Henry and John Harris, I felt a friendship as strong as one man
+can feel for another; for I could have died with and for them. To them,
+therefore, with a suitable degree of caution, I began to disclose my
+sentiments and plans; sounding them, the while on the subject of
+running away, provided a good chance should offer. I scarcely need tell
+the reader, that I did my _very best_ to imbue the minds of my dear
+friends with my own views and feelings. Thoroughly awakened, now, and
+with a definite vow upon me, all my little reading, which had any
+bearing on the subject of human rights, was rendered available in my
+communications with my friends. That (to me) gem of a book, the
+_Columbian Orator_, with its eloquent orations and spicy dialogues,
+denouncing oppression and slavery—telling of what had been dared, done
+and suffered by men, to obtain the inestimable boon of liberty—was
+still fresh in my memory, and whirled into the ranks of my speech with
+the aptitude of well trained soldiers, going through the drill. The
+fact is, I here began my public speaking. I canvassed, with Henry and
+John, the subject of slavery, and dashed against it the condemning
+brand of God’s eternal justice, which it every hour violates. My fellow
+servants were neither indifferent, dull, nor inapt. Our feelings were
+more alike than our opinions. All, however, were ready to act, when a
+feasible plan should be proposed. “Show us _how_ the thing is to be
+done,” said they, “and all is clear.”
+
+We were all, except Sandy, quite free from slaveholding priestcraft. It
+was in vain that we had been taught from the pulpit at St. Michael’s,
+the duty of obedience to our masters; to recognize God as the author of
+our enslavement; to regard running away an offense, alike against God
+and man; to deem our enslavement a merciful and beneficial arrangement;
+to esteem our condition, in this country, a paradise to that from which
+we had been snatched in Africa; to consider our hard hands and dark
+color as God’s mark of displeasure, and as pointing us out as the
+proper subjects of slavery; that the relation of master and slave was
+one of reciprocal benefits; that our work was not more serviceable to
+our masters, than our master’s thinking was serviceable to us. I say,
+it was in vain that the pulpit of St. Michael’s had constantly
+inculcated these plausible doctrine. Nature laughed them to scorn. For
+my own part, I had now become altogether too big for my chains. Father
+Lawson’s solemn words, of what I ought to be, and might be, in the
+providence of God, had not fallen dead on my soul. I was fast verging
+toward manhood, and the prophecies of my childhood were still
+unfulfilled. The thought, that year after year had passed away, and my
+resolutions to run away had failed and faded—that I was _still a
+slave_, and a slave, too, with chances for gaining my freedom
+diminished and still diminishing—was not a matter to be slept over
+easily; nor did I easily sleep over it.
+
+But here came a new trouble. Thoughts and purposes so incendiary as
+those I now cherished, could not agitate the mind long, without danger
+of making themselves manifest to scrutinizing and unfriendly beholders.
+I had reason to fear that my sable face might prove altogether too
+transparent for the safe concealment of my hazardous enterprise. Plans
+of greater moment have leaked through stone walls, and revealed their
+projectors. But, here was no stone wall to hide my purpose. I would
+have given my poor, tell tale face for the immoveable countenance of an
+Indian, for it was far from being proof against the daily, searching
+glances of those with whom I met.
+
+It is the interest and business of slaveholders to study human nature,
+with a view to practical results, and many of them attain astonishing
+proficiency in discerning the thoughts and emotions of slaves. They
+have to deal not with earth, wood, or stone, but with _men;_ and, by
+every regard they have for their safety and prosperity, they must study
+to know the material on which they are at work. So much intellect as
+the slaveholder has around him, requires watching. Their safety depends
+upon their vigilance. Conscious of the injustice and wrong they are
+every hour perpetrating, and knowing what they themselves would do if
+made the victims of such wrongs, they are looking out for the first
+signs of the dread retribution of justice. They watch, therefore, with
+skilled and practiced eyes, and have learned to read, with great
+accuracy, the state of mind and heart of the slaves, through his sable
+face. These uneasy sinners are quick to inquire into the matter, where
+the slave is concerned. Unusual sobriety, apparent abstraction,
+sullenness and indifference—indeed, any mood out of the common
+way—afford ground for suspicion and inquiry. Often relying on their
+superior position and wisdom, they hector and torture the slave into a
+confession, by affecting to know the truth of their accusations. “You
+have got the devil in you,” say they, “and we will whip him out of
+you.” I have often been put thus to the torture, on bare suspicion.
+This system has its disadvantages as well as their opposite. The slave
+is sometimes whipped into the confession of offenses which he never
+committed. The reader will see that the good old rule—“a man is to be
+held innocent until proved to be guilty”—does not hold good on the
+slave plantation. Suspicion and torture are the approved methods of
+getting at the truth, here. It was necessary for me, therefore, to keep
+a watch over my deportment, lest the enemy should get the better of me.
+
+But with all our caution and studied reserve, I am not sure that Mr.
+Freeland did not suspect that all was not right with us. It _did_ seem
+that he watched us more narrowly, after the plan of escape had been
+conceived and discussed amongst us. Men seldom see themselves as others
+see them; and while, to ourselves, everything connected with our
+contemplated escape appeared concealed, Mr. Freeland may have, with the
+peculiar prescience of a slaveholder, mastered the huge thought which
+was disturbing our peace in slavery.
+
+I am the more inclined to think that he suspected us, because, prudent
+as we were, as I now look back, I can see that we did many silly
+things, very well calculated to awaken suspicion. We were, at times,
+remarkably buoyant, singing hymns and making joyous exclamations,
+almost as triumphant in their tone as if we reached a land of freedom
+and safety. A keen observer might have detected in our repeated singing
+of
+
+_O Canaan, sweet Canaan,
+I am bound for the land of Canaan,_
+
+
+something more than a hope of reaching heaven. We meant to reach the
+_north_—and the north was our Canaan.
+
+_I thought I heard them say,
+There were lions in the way,
+I don’t expect to Star
+          Much longer here._
+
+_Run to Jesus—shun the danger—
+I don’t expect to stay
+          Much longer here_.
+
+
+was a favorite air, and had a double meaning. In the lips of some, it
+meant the expectation of a speedy summons to a world of spirits; but,
+in the lips of _our_ company, it simply meant, a speedy pilgrimage
+toward a free state, and deliverance from all the evils and dangers of
+slavery.
+
+I had succeeded in winning to my (what slaveholders would call wicked)
+scheme, a company of five young men, the very flower of the
+neighborhood, each one of whom would have commanded one thousand
+dollars in the home market. At New Orleans, they would have brought
+fifteen hundred dollars a piece, and, perhaps, more. The names of our
+party were as follows: Henry Harris; John Harris, brother to Henry;
+Sandy Jenkins, of root memory; Charles Roberts, and Henry Bailey. I was
+the youngest, but one, of the party. I had, however, the advantage of
+them all, in experience, and in a knowledge of letters. This gave me
+great influence over them. Perhaps not one of them, left to himself,
+would have dreamed of escape as a possible thing. Not one of them was
+self-moved in the matter. They all wanted to be free; but the serious
+thought of running away, had not entered into their minds, until I won
+them to the undertaking. They all were tolerably well off—for
+slaves—and had dim hopes of being set free, some day, by their masters.
+If any one is to blame for disturbing the quiet of the slaves and
+slave-masters of the neighborhood of St. Michael’s, _I am the man_. I
+claim to be the instigator of the high crime (as the slaveholders
+regard it) and I kept life in it, until life could be kept in it no
+longer.
+
+Pending the time of our contemplated departure out of our Egypt, we met
+often by night, and on every Sunday. At these meetings we talked the
+matter over; told our hopes and fears, and the difficulties discovered
+or imagined; and, like men of sense, we counted the cost of the
+enterprise to which we were committing ourselves.
+
+These meetings must have resembled, on a small scale, the meetings of
+revolutionary conspirators, in their primary condition. We were
+plotting against our (so called) lawful rulers; with this difference
+that we sought our own good, and not the harm of our enemies. We did
+not seek to overthrow them, but to escape from them. As for Mr.
+Freeland, we all liked him, and would have gladly remained with him,
+_as freeman_. LIBERTY was our aim; and we had now come to think that we
+had a right to liberty, against every obstacle even against the lives
+of our enslavers.
+
+We had several words, expressive of things, important to us, which we
+understood, but which, even if distinctly heard by an outsider, would
+convey no certain meaning. I have reasons for suppressing these
+_pass-words_, which the reader will easily divine. I hated the secrecy;
+but where slavery is powerful, and liberty is weak, the latter is
+driven to concealment or to destruction.
+
+The prospect was not always a bright one. At times, we were almost
+tempted to abandon the enterprise, and to get back to that comparative
+peace of mind, which even a man under the gallows might feel, when all
+hope of escape had vanished. Quiet bondage was felt to be better than
+the doubts, fears and uncertainties, which now so sadly perplexed and
+disturbed us.
+
+The infirmities of humanity, generally, were represented in our little
+band. We were confident, bold and determined, at times; and, again,
+doubting, timid and wavering; whistling, like the boy in the graveyard,
+to keep away the spirits.
+
+To look at the map, and observe the proximity of Eastern Shore,
+Maryland, to Delaware and Pennsylvania, it may seem to the reader quite
+absurd, to regard the proposed escape as a formidable undertaking. But
+to _understand_, some one has said a man must _stand under_. The real
+distance was great enough, but the imagined distance was, to our
+ignorance, even greater. Every slaveholder seeks to impress his slave
+with a belief in the boundlessness of slave territory, and of his own
+almost illimitable power. We all had vague and indistinct notions of
+the geography of the country.
+
+The distance, however, is not the chief trouble. The nearer are the
+lines of a slave state and the borders of a free one, the greater the
+peril. Hired kidnappers infest these borders. Then, too, we knew that
+merely reaching a free state did not free us; that, wherever caught, we
+could be returned to slavery. We could see no spot on this side the
+ocean, where we could be free. We had heard of Canada, the real Canaan
+of the American bondmen, simply as a country to which the wild goose
+and the swan repaired at the end of winter, to escape the heat of
+summer, but not as the home of man. I knew something of theology, but
+nothing of geography. I really did not, at that time, know that there
+was a state of New York, or a state of Massachusetts. I had heard of
+Pennsylvania, Delaware and New Jersey, and all the southern states, but
+was ignorant of the free states, generally. New York city was our
+northern limit, and to go there, and be forever harassed with the
+liability of being hunted down and returned to slavery—with the
+certainty of being treated ten times worse than we had ever been
+treated before was a prospect far from delightful, and it might well
+cause some hesitation about engaging in the enterprise. The case,
+sometimes, to our excited visions, stood thus: At every gate through
+which we had to pass, we saw a watchman; at every ferry, a guard; on
+every bridge, a sentinel; and in every wood, a patrol or slave-hunter.
+We were hemmed in on every side. The good to be sought, and the evil to
+be shunned, were flung in the balance, and weighed against each other.
+On the one hand, there stood slavery; a stern reality, glaring
+frightfully upon us, with the blood of millions in his polluted
+skirts—terrible to behold—greedily devouring our hard earnings and
+feeding himself upon our flesh. Here was the evil from which to escape.
+On the other hand, far away, back in the hazy distance, where all forms
+seemed but shadows, under the flickering light of the north star—behind
+some craggy hill or snow-covered mountain—stood a doubtful freedom,
+half frozen, beckoning us to her icy domain. This was the good to be
+sought. The inequality was as great as that between certainty and
+uncertainty. This, in itself, was enough to stagger us; but when we
+came to survey the untrodden road, and conjecture the many possible
+difficulties, we were appalled, and at times, as I have said, were upon
+the point of giving over the struggle altogether.
+
+The reader can have little idea of the phantoms of trouble which flit,
+in such circumstances, before the uneducated mind of the slave. Upon
+either side, we saw grim death assuming a variety of horrid shapes.
+Now, it was starvation, causing us, in a strange and friendless land,
+to eat our own flesh. Now, we were contending with the waves (for our
+journey was in part by water) and were drowned. Now, we were hunted by
+dogs, and overtaken and torn to pieces by their merciless fangs. We
+were stung by scorpions—chased by wild beasts—bitten by snakes; and,
+worst of all, after having succeeded in swimming rivers—encountering
+wild beasts—sleeping in the woods—suffering hunger, cold, heat and
+nakedness—we supposed ourselves to be overtaken by hired kidnappers,
+who, in the name of the law, and for their thrice accursed reward,
+would, perchance, fire upon us—kill some, wound others, and capture
+all. This dark picture, drawn by ignorance and fear, at times greatly
+shook our determination, and not unfrequently caused us to
+
+Rather bear those ills we had
+Than fly to others which we knew not of.
+
+
+I am not disposed to magnify this circumstance in my experience, and
+yet I think I shall seem to be so disposed, to the reader. No man can
+tell the intense agony which is felt by the slave, when wavering on the
+point of making his escape. All that he has is at stake; and even that
+which he has not, is at stake, also. The life which he has, may be
+lost, and the liberty which he seeks, may not be gained.
+
+Patrick Henry, to a listening senate, thrilled by his magic eloquence,
+and ready to stand by him in his boldest flights, could say, GIVE ME
+LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH, and this saying was a sublime one, even for a
+freeman; but, incomparably more sublime, is the same sentiment, when
+_practically_ asserted by men accustomed to the lash and chain—men
+whose sensibilities must have become more or less deadened by their
+bondage. With us it was a _doubtful_ liberty, at best, that we sought;
+and a certain, lingering death in the rice swamps and sugar fields, if
+we failed. Life is not lightly regarded by men of sane minds. It is
+precious, alike to the pauper and to the prince—to the slave, and to
+his master; and yet, I believe there was not one among us, who would
+not rather have been shot down, than pass away life in hopeless
+bondage.
+
+In the progress of our preparations, Sandy, the root man, became
+troubled. He began to have dreams, and some of them were very
+distressing. One of these, which happened on a Friday night, was, to
+him, of great significance; and I am quite ready to confess, that I
+felt somewhat damped by it myself. He said, “I dreamed, last night,
+that I was roused from sleep, by strange noises, like the voices of a
+swarm of angry birds, that caused a roar as they passed, which fell
+upon my ear like a coming gale over the tops of the trees. Looking up
+to see what it could mean,” said Sandy, “I saw you, Frederick, in the
+claws of a huge bird, surrounded by a large number of birds, of all
+colors and sizes. These were all picking at you, while you, with your
+arms, seemed to be trying to protect your eyes. Passing over me, the
+birds flew in a south-westerly direction, and I watched them until they
+were clean out of sight. Now, I saw this as plainly as I now see you;
+and furder, honey, watch de Friday night dream; dare is sumpon in it,
+shose you born; dare is, indeed, honey.”
+
+I confess I did not like this dream; but I threw off concern about it,
+by attributing it to the general excitement and perturbation consequent
+upon our contemplated plan of escape. I could not, however, shake off
+its effect at once. I felt that it boded me no good. Sandy was
+unusually emphatic and oracular, and his manner had much to do with the
+impression made upon me.
+
+The plan of escape which I recommended, and to which my comrades
+assented, was to take a large canoe, owned by Mr. Hamilton, and, on the
+Saturday night previous to the Easter holidays, launch out into the
+Chesapeake bay, and paddle for its head—a distance of seventy miles
+with all our might. Our course, on reaching this point, was, to turn
+the canoe adrift, and bend our steps toward the north star, till we
+reached a free state.
+
+There were several objections to this plan. One was, the danger from
+gales on the bay. In rough weather, the waters of the Chesapeake are
+much agitated, and there is danger, in a canoe, of being swamped by the
+waves. Another objection was, that the canoe would soon be missed; the
+absent persons would, at once, be suspected of having taken it; and we
+should be pursued by some of the fast sailing bay craft out of St.
+Michael’s. Then, again, if we reached the head of the bay, and turned
+the canoe adrift, she might prove a guide to our track, and bring the
+land hunters after us.
+
+These and other objections were set aside, by the stronger ones which
+could be urged against every other plan that could then be suggested.
+On the water, we had a chance of being regarded as fishermen, in the
+service of a master. On the other hand, by taking the land route,
+through the counties adjoining Delaware, we should be subjected to all
+manner of interruptions, and many very disagreeable questions, which
+might give us serious trouble. Any white man is authorized to stop a
+man of color, on any road, and examine him, and arrest him, if he so
+desires.
+
+By this arrangement, many abuses (considered such even by slaveholders)
+occur. Cases have been known, where freemen have been called upon to
+show their free papers, by a pack of ruffians—and, on the presentation
+of the papers, the ruffians have torn them up, and seized their victim,
+and sold him to a life of endless bondage.
+
+The week before our intended start, I wrote a pass for each of our
+party, giving them permission to visit Baltimore, during the Easter
+holidays. The pass ran after this manner:
+
+This is to certify, that I, the undersigned, have given the bearer, my
+servant, John, full liberty to go to Baltimore, to spend the Easter
+holidays.
+
+
+W.H.
+Near St. Michael’s, Talbot county, Maryland
+
+
+Although we were not going to Baltimore, and were intending to land
+east of North Point, in the direction where I had seen the Philadelphia
+steamers go, these passes might be made useful to us in the lower part
+of the bay, while steering toward Baltimore. These were not, however,
+to be shown by us, until all other answers failed to satisfy the
+inquirer. We were all fully alive to the importance of being calm and
+self-possessed, when accosted, if accosted we should be; and we more
+times than one rehearsed to each other how we should behave in the hour
+of trial.
+
+These were long, tedious days and nights. The suspense was painful, in
+the extreme. To balance probabilities, where life and liberty hang on
+the result, requires steady nerves. I panted for action, and was glad
+when the day, at the close of which we were to start, dawned upon us.
+Sleeping, the night before, was out of the question. I probably felt
+more deeply than any of my companions, because I was the instigator of
+the movement. The responsibility of the whole enterprise rested on my
+shoulders. The glory of success, and the shame and confusion of
+failure, could not be matters of indifference to me. Our food was
+prepared; our clothes were packed up; we were all ready to go, and
+impatient for Saturday morning—considering that the last morning of our
+bondage.
+
+I cannot describe the tempest and tumult of my brain, that morning. The
+reader will please to bear in mind, that, in a slave state, an
+unsuccessful runaway is not only subjected to cruel torture, and sold
+away to the far south, but he is frequently execrated by the other
+slaves. He is charged with making the condition of the other slaves
+intolerable, by laying them all under the suspicion of their
+masters—subjecting them to greater vigilance, and imposing greater
+limitations on their privileges. I dreaded murmurs from this quarter.
+It is difficult, too, for a slavemaster to believe that slaves escaping
+have not been aided in their flight by some one of their fellow slaves.
+When, therefore, a slave is missing, every slave on the place is
+closely examined as to his knowledge of the undertaking; and they are
+sometimes even tortured, to make them disclose what they are suspected
+of knowing of such escape.
+
+Our anxiety grew more and more intense, as the time of our intended
+departure for the north drew nigh. It was truly felt to be a matter of
+life and death with us; and we fully intended to _fight_ as well as
+_run_, if necessity should occur for that extremity. But the trial hour
+was not yet to come. It was easy to resolve, but not so easy to act. I
+expected there might be some drawing back, at the last. It was natural
+that there should be; therefore, during the intervening time, I lost no
+opportunity to explain away difficulties, to remove doubts, to dispel
+fears, and to inspire all with firmness. It was too late to look back;
+and _now_ was the time to go forward. Like most other men, we had done
+the talking part of our work, long and well; and the time had come to
+_act_ as if we were in earnest, and meant to be as true in action as in
+words. I did not forget to appeal to the pride of my comrades, by
+telling them that, if after having solemnly promised to go, as they had
+done, they now failed to make the attempt, they would, in effect, brand
+themselves with cowardice, and might as well sit down, fold their arms,
+and acknowledge themselves as fit only to be _slaves_. This detestable
+character, all were unwilling to assume. Every man except Sandy (he,
+much to our regret, withdrew) stood firm; and at our last meeting we
+pledged ourselves afresh, and in the most solemn manner, that, at the
+time appointed, we _would_ certainly start on our long journey for a
+free country. This meeting was in the middle of the week, at the end of
+which we were to start.
+
+Early that morning we went, as usual, to the field, but with hearts
+that beat quickly and anxiously. Any one intimately acquainted with us,
+might have seen that all was not well with us, and that some monster
+lingered in our thoughts. Our work that morning was the same as it had
+been for several days past—drawing out and spreading manure. While thus
+engaged, I had a sudden presentiment, which flashed upon me like
+lightning in a dark night, revealing to the lonely traveler the gulf
+before, and the enemy behind. I instantly turned to Sandy Jenkins, who
+was near me, and said to him, _“Sandy, we are betrayed;_ something has
+just told me so.” I felt as sure of it, as if the officers were there
+in sight. Sandy said, “Man, dat is strange; but I feel just as you do.”
+If my mother—then long in her grave—had appeared before me, and told me
+that we were betrayed, I could not, at that moment, have felt more
+certain of the fact.
+
+In a few minutes after this, the long, low and distant notes of the
+horn summoned us from the field to breakfast. I felt as one may be
+supposed to feel before being led forth to be executed for some great
+offense. I wanted no breakfast; but I went with the other slaves toward
+the house, for form’s sake. My feelings were not disturbed as to the
+right of running away; on that point I had no trouble, whatever. My
+anxiety arose from a sense of the consequences of failure.
+
+In thirty minutes after that vivid presentiment came the apprehended
+crash. On reaching the house, for breakfast, and glancing my eye toward
+the lane gate, the worst was at once made known. The lane gate off Mr.
+Freeland’s house, is nearly a half mile from the door, and shaded by
+the heavy wood which bordered the main road. I was, however, able to
+descry four white men, and two colored men, approaching. The white men
+were on horseback, and the colored men were walking behind, and seemed
+to be tied. _“It is all over with us,”_ thought I, _“we are surely
+betrayed_.” I now became composed, or at least comparatively so, and
+calmly awaited the result. I watched the ill-omened company, till I saw
+them enter the gate. Successful flight was impossible, and I made up my
+mind to stand, and meet the evil, whatever it might be; for I was not
+without a slight hope that things might turn differently from what I at
+first expected. In a few moments, in came Mr. William Hamilton, riding
+very rapidly, and evidently much excited. He was in the habit of riding
+very slowly, and was seldom known to gallop his horse. This time, his
+horse was nearly at full speed, causing the dust to roll thick behind
+him. Mr. Hamilton, though one of the most resolute men in the whole
+neighborhood, was, nevertheless, a remarkably mild spoken man; and,
+even when greatly excited, his language was cool and circumspect. He
+came to the door, and inquired if Mr. Freeland was in. I told him that
+Mr. Freeland was at the barn. Off the old gentleman rode, toward the
+barn, with unwonted speed. Mary, the cook, was at a loss to know what
+was the matter, and I did not profess any skill in making her
+understand. I knew she would have united, as readily as any one, in
+cursing me for bringing trouble into the family; so I held my peace,
+leaving matters to develop themselves, without my assistance. In a few
+moments, Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Freeland came down from the barn to the
+house; and, just as they made their appearance in the front yard, three
+men (who proved to be constables) came dashing into the lane, on
+horseback, as if summoned by a sign requiring quick work. A few seconds
+brought them into the front yard, where they hastily dismounted, and
+tied their horses. This done, they joined Mr. Freeland and Mr.
+Hamilton, who were standing a short distance from the kitchen. A few
+moments were spent, as if in consulting how to proceed, and then the
+whole party walked up to the kitchen door. There was now no one in the
+kitchen but myself and John Harris. Henry and Sandy were yet at the
+barn. Mr. Freeland came inside the kitchen door, and with an agitated
+voice, called me by name, and told me to come forward; that there was
+some gentlemen who wished to see me. I stepped toward them, at the
+door, and asked what they wanted, when the constables grabbed me, and
+told me that I had better not resist; that I had been in a scrape, or
+was said to have been in one; that they were merely going to take me
+where I could be examined; that they were going to carry me to St.
+Michael’s, to have me brought before my master. They further said,
+that, in case the evidence against me was not true, I should be
+acquitted. I was now firmly tied, and completely at the mercy of my
+captors. Resistance was idle. They were five in number, armed to the
+very teeth. When they had secured me, they next turned to John Harris,
+and, in a few moments, succeeded in tying him as firmly as they had
+already tied me. They next turned toward Henry Harris, who had now
+returned from the barn. “Cross your hands,” said the constables, to
+Henry. “I won’t” said Henry, in a voice so firm and clear, and in a
+manner so determined, as for a moment to arrest all proceedings. “Won’t
+you cross your hands?” said Tom Graham, the constable. “_No I won’t_,”
+said Henry, with increasing emphasis. Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Freeland, and
+the officers, now came near to Henry. Two of the constables drew out
+their shining pistols, and swore by the name of God, that he should
+cross his hands, or they would shoot him down. Each of these hired
+ruffians now cocked their pistols, and, with fingers apparently on the
+triggers, presented their deadly weapons to the breast of the unarmed
+slave, saying, at the same time, if he did not cross his hands, they
+would “blow his d—d heart out of him.”
+
+_“Shoot! shoot me!”_ said Henry. “_You can’t kill me but once_.
+Shoot!—shoot! and be d—d. _I won’t be tied_.” This, the brave fellow
+said in a voice as defiant and heroic in its tone, as was the language
+itself; and, at the moment of saying this, with the pistols at his very
+breast, he quickly raised his arms, and dashed them from the puny hands
+of his assassins, the weapons flying in opposite directions. Now came
+the struggle. All hands was now rushed upon the brave fellow, and,
+after beating him for some time, they succeeded in overpowering and
+tying him. Henry put me to shame; he fought, and fought bravely. John
+and I had made no resistance. The fact is, I never see much use in
+fighting, unless there is a reasonable probability of whipping
+somebody. Yet there was something almost providential in the resistance
+made by the gallant Henry. But for that resistance, every soul of us
+would have been hurried off to the far south. Just a moment previous to
+the trouble with Henry, Mr. Hamilton _mildly_ said—and this gave me the
+unmistakable clue to the cause of our arrest—“Perhaps we had now better
+make a search for those protections, which we understand Frederick has
+written for himself and the rest.” Had these passes been found, they
+would have been point blank proof against us, and would have confirmed
+all the statements of our betrayer. Thanks to the resistance of Henry,
+the excitement produced by the scuffle drew all attention in that
+direction, and I succeeded in flinging my pass, unobserved, into the
+fire. The confusion attendant upon the scuffle, and the apprehension of
+further trouble, perhaps, led our captors to forego, for the present,
+any search for _“those protections” which Frederick was said to have
+written for his companions_; so we were not yet convicted of the
+purpose to run away; and it was evident that there was some doubt, on
+the part of all, whether we had been guilty of such a purpose.
+
+Just as we were all completely tied, and about ready to start toward
+St. Michael’s, and thence to jail, Mrs. Betsey Freeland (mother to
+William, who was very much attached—after the southern fashion—to Henry
+and John, they having been reared from childhood in her house) came to
+the kitchen door, with her hands full of biscuits—for we had not had
+time to take our breakfast that morning—and divided them between Henry
+and John. This done, the lady made the following parting address to me,
+looking and pointing her bony finger at me. “You devil! you yellow
+devil! It was you that put it into the heads of Henry and John to run
+away. But for _you_, you _long legged yellow devil_, Henry and John
+would never have thought of running away.” I gave the lady a look,
+which called forth a scream of mingled wrath and terror, as she slammed
+the kitchen door, and went in, leaving me, with the rest, in hands as
+harsh as her own broken voice.
+
+Could the kind reader have been quietly riding along the main road to
+or from Easton, that morning, his eye would have met a painful sight.
+He would have seen five young men, guilty of no crime, save that of
+preferring _liberty_ to a life of _bondage_, drawn along the public
+highway—firmly bound together—tramping through dust and heat,
+bare-footed and bare-headed—fastened to three strong horses, whose
+riders were armed to the teeth, with pistols and daggers—on their way
+to prison, like felons, and suffering every possible insult from the
+crowds of idle, vulgar people, who clustered around, and heartlessly
+made their failure the occasion for all manner of ribaldry and sport.
+As I looked upon this crowd of vile persons, and saw myself and friends
+thus assailed and persecuted, I could not help seeing the fulfillment
+of Sandy’s dream. I was in the hands of moral vultures, and firmly held
+in their sharp talons, and was hurried away toward Easton, in a
+south-easterly direction, amid the jeers of new birds of the same
+feather, through every neighborhood we passed. It seemed to me (and
+this shows the good understanding between the slaveholders and their
+allies) that every body we met knew the cause of our arrest, and were
+out, awaiting our passing by, to feast their vindictive eyes on our
+misery and to gloat over our ruin. Some said, _I ought to be hanged_,
+and others, _I ought to be burnt_, others, I ought to have the _“hide”_
+taken from my back; while no one gave us a kind word or sympathizing
+look, except the poor slaves, who were lifting their heavy hoes, and
+who cautiously glanced at us through the post-and-rail fences, behind
+which they were at work. Our sufferings, that morning, can be more
+easily imagined than described. Our hopes were all blasted, at a blow.
+The cruel injustice, the victorious crime, and the helplessness of
+innocence, led me to ask, in my ignorance and weakness “Where now is
+the God of justice and mercy? And why have these wicked men the power
+thus to trample upon our rights, and to insult our feelings?” And yet,
+in the next moment, came the consoling thought, _“The day of oppressor
+will come at last.”_ Of one thing I could be glad—not one of my dear
+friends, upon whom I had brought this great calamity, either by word or
+look, reproached me for having led them into it. We were a band of
+brothers, and never dearer to each other than now. The thought which
+gave us the most pain, was the probable separation which would now take
+place, in case we were sold off to the far south, as we were likely to
+be. While the constables were looking forward, Henry and I, being
+fastened together, could occasionally exchange a word, without being
+observed by the kidnappers who had us in charge. “What shall I do with
+my pass?” said Henry. “Eat it with your biscuit,” said I; “it won’t do
+to tear it up.” We were now near St. Michael’s. The direction
+concerning the passes was passed around, and executed. _“Own nothing!”_
+said I. _“Own nothing!”_ was passed around and enjoined, and assented
+to. Our confidence in each other was unshaken; and we were quite
+resolved to succeed or fail together—as much after the calamity which
+had befallen us, as before.
+
+On reaching St. Michael’s, we underwent a sort of examination at my
+master’s store, and it was evident to my mind, that Master Thomas
+suspected the truthfulness of the evidence upon which they had acted in
+arresting us; and that he only affected, to some extent, the
+positiveness with which he asserted our guilt. There was nothing said
+by any of our company, which could, in any manner, prejudice our cause;
+and there was hope, yet, that we should be able to return to our
+homes—if for nothing else, at least to find out the guilty man or woman
+who had betrayed us.
+
+To this end, we all denied that we had been guilty of intended flight.
+Master Thomas said that the evidence he had of our intention to run
+away, was strong enough to hang us, in a case of murder. “But,” said I,
+“the cases are not equal. If murder were committed, some one must have
+committed it—the thing is done! In our case, nothing has been done! We
+have not run away. Where is the evidence against us? We were quietly at
+our work.” I talked thus, with unusual freedom, to bring out the
+evidence against us, for we all wanted, above all things, to know the
+guilty wretch who had betrayed us, that we might have something
+tangible upon which to pour the execrations. From something which
+dropped, in the course of the talk, it appeared that there was but one
+witness against us—and that that witness could not be produced. Master
+Thomas would not tell us _who_ his informant was; but we suspected, and
+suspected _one_ person _only_. Several circumstances seemed to point
+SANDY out, as our betrayer. His entire knowledge of our plans his
+participation in them—his withdrawal from us—his dream, and his
+simultaneous presentiment that we were betrayed—the taking us, and the
+leaving him—were calculated to turn suspicion toward him; and yet, we
+could not suspect him. We all loved him too well to think it _possible_
+that he could have betrayed us. So we rolled the guilt on other
+shoulders.
+
+We were literally dragged, that morning, behind horses, a distance of
+fifteen miles, and placed in the Easton jail. We were glad to reach the
+end of our journey, for our pathway had been the scene of insult and
+mortification. Such is the power of public opinion, that it is hard,
+even for the innocent, to feel the happy consolations of innocence,
+when they fall under the maledictions of this power. How could we
+regard ourselves as in the right, when all about us denounced us as
+criminals, and had the power and the disposition to treat us as such.
+
+In jail, we were placed under the care of Mr. Joseph Graham, the
+sheriff of the county. Henry, and John, and myself, were placed in one
+room, and Henry Baily and Charles Roberts, in another, by themselves.
+This separation was intended to deprive us of the advantage of concert,
+and to prevent trouble in jail.
+
+Once shut up, a new set of tormentors came upon us. A swarm of imps, in
+human shape the slave-traders, deputy slave-traders, and agents of
+slave-traders—that gather in every country town of the state, watching
+for chances to buy human flesh (as buzzards to eat carrion) flocked in
+upon us, to ascertain if our masters had placed us in jail to be sold.
+Such a set of debased and villainous creatures, I never saw before, and
+hope never to see again. I felt myself surrounded as by a pack of
+_fiends_, fresh from _perdition_. They laughed, leered, and grinned at
+us; saying, “Ah! boys, we’ve got you, havn’t we? So you were about to
+make your escape? Where were you going to?” After taunting us, and
+peering at us, as long as they liked, they one by one subjected us to
+an examination, with a view to ascertain our value; feeling our arms
+and legs, and shaking us by the shoulders to see if we were sound and
+healthy; impudently asking us, “how we would like to have them for
+masters?” To such questions, we were, very much to their annoyance,
+quite dumb, disdaining to answer them. For one, I detested the
+whisky-bloated gamblers in human flesh; and I believe I was as much
+detested by them in turn. One fellow told me, “if he had me, he would
+cut the devil out of me pretty quick.”
+
+These Negro buyers are very offensive to the genteel southern Christian
+public. They are looked upon, in respectable Maryland society, as
+necessary, but detestable characters. As a class, they are hardened
+ruffians, made such by nature and by occupation. Their ears are made
+quite familiar with the agonizing cry of outraged and woe-smitted
+humanity. Their eyes are forever open to human misery. They walk amid
+desecrated affections, insulted virtue, and blasted hopes. They have
+grown intimate with vice and blood; they gloat over the wildest
+illustrations of their soul-damning and earth-polluting business, and
+are moral pests. Yes; they are a legitimate fruit of slavery; and it is
+a puzzle to make out a case of greater villainy for them, than for the
+slaveholders, who make such a class _possible_. They are mere hucksters
+of the surplus slave produce of Maryland and Virginia coarse, cruel,
+and swaggering bullies, whose very breathing is of blasphemy and blood.
+
+Aside from these slave-buyers, who infested the prison, from time to
+time, our quarters were much more comfortable than we had any right to
+expect they would be. Our allowance of food was small and coarse, but
+our room was the best in the jail—neat and spacious, and with nothing
+about it necessarily reminding us of being in prison, but its heavy
+locks and bolts and the black, iron lattice-work at the windows. We
+were prisoners of state, compared with most slaves who are put into
+that Easton jail. But the place was not one of contentment. Bolts, bars
+and grated windows are not acceptable to freedom-loving people of any
+color. The suspense, too, was painful. Every step on the stairway was
+listened to, in the hope that the comer would cast a ray of light on
+our fate. We would have given the hair off our heads for half a dozen
+words with one of the waiters in Sol. Lowe’s hotel. Such waiters were
+in the way of hearing, at the table, the probable course of things. We
+could see them flitting about in their white jackets in front of this
+hotel, but could speak to none of them.
+
+Soon after the holidays were over, contrary to all our expectations,
+Messrs. Hamilton and Freeland came up to Easton; not to make a bargain
+with the “Georgia traders,” nor to send us up to Austin Woldfolk, as is
+usual in the case of run-away slaves, but to release Charles, Henry
+Harris, Henry Baily and John Harris, from prison, and this, too,
+without the infliction of a single blow. I was now left entirely alone
+in prison. The innocent had been taken, and the guilty left. My friends
+were separated from me, and apparently forever. This circumstance
+caused me more pain than any other incident connected with our capture
+and imprisonment. Thirty-nine lashes on my naked and bleeding back,
+would have been joyfully borne, in preference to this separation from
+these, the friends of my youth. And yet, I could not but feel that I
+was the victim of something like justice. Why should these young men,
+who were led into this scheme by me, suffer as much as the instigator?
+I felt glad that they were leased from prison, and from the dread
+prospect of a life (or death I should rather say) in the rice swamps.
+It is due to the noble Henry, to say, that he seemed almost as
+reluctant to leave the prison with me in it, as he was to be tied and
+dragged to prison. But he and the rest knew that we should, in all the
+likelihoods of the case, be separated, in the event of being sold; and
+since we were now completely in the hands of our owners, we all
+concluded it would be best to go peaceably home.
+
+Not until this last separation, dear reader, had I touched those
+profounder depths of desolation, which it is the lot of slaves often to
+reach. I was solitary in the world, and alone within the walls of a
+stone prison, left to a fate of life-long misery. I had hoped and
+expected much, for months before, but my hopes and expectations were
+now withered and blasted. The ever dreaded slave life in Georgia,
+Louisiana and Alabama—from which escape is next to impossible now, in
+my loneliness, stared me in the face. The possibility of ever becoming
+anything but an abject slave, a mere machine in the hands of an owner,
+had now fled, and it seemed to me it had fled forever. A life of living
+death, beset with the innumerable horrors of the cotton field, and the
+sugar plantation, seemed to be my doom. The fiends, who rushed into the
+prison when we were first put there, continued to visit me, and to ply
+me with questions and with their tantalizing remarks. I was insulted,
+but helpless; keenly alive to the demands of justice and liberty, but
+with no means of asserting them. To talk to those imps about justice
+and mercy, would have been as absurd as to reason with bears and
+tigers. Lead and steel are the only arguments that they understand.
+
+After remaining in this life of misery and despair about a week, which,
+by the way, seemed a month, Master Thomas, very much to my surprise,
+and greatly to my relief, came to the prison, and took me out, for the
+purpose, as he said, of sending me to Alabama, with a friend of his,
+who would emancipate me at the end of eight years. I was glad enough to
+get out of prison; but I had no faith in the story that this friend of
+Capt. Auld would emancipate me, at the end of the time indicated.
+Besides, I never had heard of his having a friend in Alabama, and I
+took the announcement, simply as an easy and comfortable method of
+shipping me off to the far south. There was a little scandal, too,
+connected with the idea of one Christian selling another to the Georgia
+traders, while it was deemed every way proper for them to sell to
+others. I thought this friend in Alabama was an invention, to meet this
+difficulty, for Master Thomas was quite jealous of his Christian
+reputation, however unconcerned he might be about his real Christian
+character. In these remarks, however, it is possible that I do Master
+Thomas Auld injustice. He certainly did not exhaust his power upon me,
+in the case, but acted, upon the whole, very generously, considering
+the nature of my offense. He had the power and the provocation to send
+me, without reserve, into the very everglades of Florida, beyond the
+remotest hope of emancipation; and his refusal to exercise that power,
+must be set down to his credit.
+
+After lingering about St. Michael’s a few days, and no friend from
+Alabama making his appearance, to take me there, Master Thomas decided
+to send me back again to Baltimore, to live with his brother Hugh, with
+whom he was now at peace; possibly he became so by his profession of
+religion, at the camp-meeting in the Bay Side. Master Thomas told me
+that he wished me to go to Baltimore, and learn a trade; and that, if I
+behaved myself properly, he would _emancipate me at twenty-five!_
+Thanks for this one beam of hope in the future. The promise had but one
+fault; it seemed too good to be true.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. _Apprenticeship Life_
+
+
+NOTHING LOST BY THE ATTEMPT TO RUN AWAY—COMRADES IN THEIR OLD
+HOMES—REASONS FOR SENDING ME AWAY—RETURN TO BALTIMORE—CONTRAST BETWEEN
+TOMMY AND THAT OF HIS COLORED COMPANION—TRIALS IN GARDINER’S SHIP
+YARD—DESPERATE FIGHT—ITS CAUSES—CONFLICT BETWEEN WHITE AND BLACK
+LABOR—DESCRIPTION OF THE OUTRAGE—COLORED TESTIMONY NOTHING—CONDUCT OF
+MASTER HUGH—SPIRIT OF SLAVERY IN BALTIMORE—MY CONDITION IMPROVES—NEW
+ASSOCIATIONS—SLAVEHOLDER’S RIGHT TO TAKE HIS WAGES—HOW TO MAKE A
+CONTENTED SLAVE.
+
+
+Well! dear reader, I am not, as you may have already inferred, a loser
+by the general upstir, described in the foregoing chapter. The little
+domestic revolution, notwithstanding the sudden snub it got by the
+treachery of somebody—I dare not say or think who—did not, after all,
+end so disastrously, as when in the iron cage at Easton, I conceived it
+would. The prospect, from that point, did look about as dark as any
+that ever cast its gloom over the vision of the anxious, out-looking,
+human spirit. “All is well that ends well.” My affectionate comrades,
+Henry and John Harris, are still with Mr. William Freeland. Charles
+Roberts and Henry Baily are safe at their homes. I have not, therefore,
+any thing to regret on their account. Their masters have mercifully
+forgiven them, probably on the ground suggested in the spirited little
+speech of Mrs. Freeland, made to me just before leaving for the
+jail—namely: that they had been allured into the wicked scheme of
+making their escape, by me; and that, but for me, they would never have
+dreamed of a thing so shocking! My friends had nothing to regret,
+either; for while they were watched more closely on account of what had
+happened, they were, doubtless, treated more kindly than before, and
+got new assurances that they would be legally emancipated, some day,
+provided their behavior should make them deserving, from that time
+forward. Not a blow, as I learned, was struck any one of them. As for
+Master William Freeland, good, unsuspecting soul, he did not believe
+that we were intending to run away at all. Having given—as he
+thought—no occasion to his boys to leave him, he could not think it
+probable that they had entertained a design so grievous. This, however,
+was not the view taken of the matter by “Mas’ Billy,” as we used to
+call the soft spoken, but crafty and resolute Mr. William Hamilton. He
+had no doubt that the crime had been meditated; and regarding me as the
+instigator of it, he frankly told Master Thomas that he must remove me
+from that neighborhood, or he would shoot me down. He would not have
+one so dangerous as “Frederick” tampering with his slaves. William
+Hamilton was not a man whose threat might be safely disregarded. I have
+no doubt that he would have proved as good as his word, had the warning
+given not been promptly taken. He was furious at the thought of such a
+piece of high-handed _theft_, as we were about to perpetrate the
+stealing of our own bodies and souls! The feasibility of the plan, too,
+could the first steps have been taken, was marvelously plain. Besides,
+this was a _new_ idea, this use of the bay. Slaves escaping, until now,
+had taken to the woods; they had never dreamed of profaning and abusing
+the waters of the noble Chesapeake, by making them the highway from
+slavery to freedom. Here was a broad road of destruction to slavery,
+which, before, had been looked upon as a wall of security by
+slaveholders. But Master Billy could not get Mr. Freeland to see
+matters precisely as he did; nor could he get Master Thomas so excited
+as he was himself. The latter—I must say it to his credit—showed much
+humane feeling in his part of the transaction, and atoned for much that
+had been harsh, cruel and unreasonable in his former treatment of me
+and others. His clemency was quite unusual and unlooked for. “Cousin
+Tom” told me that while I was in jail, Master Thomas was very unhappy;
+and that the night before his going up to release me, he had walked the
+floor nearly all night, evincing great distress; that very tempting
+offers had been made to him, by the Negro-traders, but he had rejected
+them all, saying that _money could not tempt him to sell me to the far
+south_. All this I can easily believe, for he seemed quite reluctant to
+send me away, at all. He told me that he only consented to do so,
+because of the very strong prejudice against me in the neighborhood,
+and that he feared for my safety if I remained there.
+
+Thus, after three years spent in the country, roughing it in the field,
+and experiencing all sorts of hardships, I was again permitted to
+return to Baltimore, the very place, of all others, short of a free
+state, where I most desired to live. The three years spent in the
+country, had made some difference in me, and in the household of Master
+Hugh. “Little Tommy” was no longer _little_ Tommy; and I was not the
+slender lad who had left for the Eastern Shore just three years before.
+The loving relations between me and Mas’ Tommy were broken up. He was
+no longer dependent on me for protection, but felt himself a _man_,
+with other and more suitable associates. In childhood, he scarcely
+considered me inferior to himself certainly, as good as any other boy
+with whom he played; but the time had come when his _friend_ must
+become his _slave_. So we were cold, and we parted. It was a sad thing
+to me, that, loving each other as we had done, we must now take
+different roads. To him, a thousand avenues were open. Education had
+made him acquainted with all the treasures of the world, and liberty
+had flung open the gates thereunto; but I, who had attended him seven
+years, and had watched over him with the care of a big brother,
+fighting his battles in the street, and shielding him from harm, to an
+extent which had induced his mother to say, “Oh! Tommy is always safe,
+when he is with Freddy,” must be confined to a single condition. He
+could grow, and become a MAN; I could grow, though I could _not_ become
+a man, but must remain, all my life, a minor—a mere boy. Thomas Auld,
+Junior, obtained a situation on board the brig “Tweed,” and went to
+sea. I know not what has become of him; he certainly has my good wishes
+for his welfare and prosperity. There were few persons to whom I was
+more sincerely attached than to him, and there are few in the world I
+would be more pleased to meet.
+
+Very soon after I went to Baltimore to live, Master Hugh succeeded in
+getting me hired to Mr. William Gardiner, an extensive ship builder on
+Fell’s Point. I was placed here to learn to calk, a trade of which I
+already had some knowledge, gained while in Mr. Hugh Auld’s ship-yard,
+when he was a master builder. Gardiner’s, however, proved a very
+unfavorable place for the accomplishment of that object. Mr. Gardiner
+was, that season, engaged in building two large man-of-war vessels,
+professedly for the Mexican government. These vessels were to be
+launched in the month of July, of that year, and, in failure thereof,
+Mr. G. would forfeit a very considerable sum of money. So, when I
+entered the ship-yard, all was hurry and driving. There were in the
+yard about one hundred men; of these about seventy or eighty were
+regular carpenters—privileged men. Speaking of my condition here I
+wrote, years ago—and I have now no reason to vary the picture as
+follows:
+
+There was no time to learn any thing. Every man had to do that which he
+knew how to do. In entering the ship-yard, my orders from Mr. Gardiner
+were, to do whatever the carpenters commanded me to do. This was
+placing me at the beck and call of about seventy-five men. I was to
+regard all these as masters. Their word was to be my law. My situation
+was a most trying one. At times I needed a dozen pair of hands. I was
+called a dozen ways in the space of a single minute. Three or four
+voices would strike my ear at the same moment. It was—“Fred., come help
+me to cant this timber here.” “Fred., come carry this timber
+yonder.”—“Fred., bring that roller here.”—“Fred., go get a fresh can of
+water.”—“Fred., come help saw off the end of this timber.”—“Fred., go
+quick and get the crow bar.”—“Fred., hold on the end of this
+fall.”—“Fred., go to the blacksmith’s shop, and get a new punch.”—
+
+“Hurra, Fred.! run and bring me a cold chisel.”—“I say, Fred., bear a
+hand, and get up a fire as quick as lightning under that
+steam-box.”—“Halloo, nigger! come, turn this grindstone.”—“Come, come!
+move, move! and _bowse_ this timber forward.”—“I say, darkey, blast
+your eyes, why don’t you heat up some pitch?”—“Halloo! halloo! halloo!”
+(Three voices at the same time.) “Come here!—Go there!—Hold on where
+you are! D—n you, if you move, I’ll knock your brains out!”
+
+Such, dear reader, is a glance at the school which was mine, during,
+the first eight months of my stay at Baltimore. At the end of the eight
+months, Master Hugh refused longer to allow me to remain with Mr.
+Gardiner. The circumstance which led to his taking me away, was a
+brutal outrage, committed upon me by the white apprentices of the
+ship-yard. The fight was a desperate one, and I came out of it most
+shockingly mangled. I was cut and bruised in sundry places, and my left
+eye was nearly knocked out of its socket. The facts, leading to this
+barbarous outrage upon me, illustrate a phase of slavery destined to
+become an important element in the overthrow of the slave system, and I
+may, therefore state them with some minuteness. That phase is this:
+_the conflict of slavery with the interests of the white mechanics and
+laborers of the south_. In the country, this conflict is not so
+apparent; but, in cities, such as Baltimore, Richmond, New Orleans,
+Mobile, &c., it is seen pretty clearly. The slaveholders, with a
+craftiness peculiar to themselves, by encouraging the enmity of the
+poor, laboring white man against the blacks, succeeds in making the
+said white man almost as much a slave as the black slave himself. The
+difference between the white slave, and the black slave, is this: the
+latter belongs to _one_ slaveholder, and the former belongs to _all_
+the slaveholders, collectively. The white slave has taken from him, by
+indirection, what the black slave has taken from him, directly, and
+without ceremony. Both are plundered, and by the same plunderers. The
+slave is robbed, by his master, of all his earnings, above what is
+required for his bare physical necessities; and the white man is robbed
+by the slave system, of the just results of his labor, because he is
+flung into competition with a class of laborers who work without wages.
+The competition, and its injurious consequences, will, one day, array
+the nonslaveholding white people of the slave states, against the slave
+system, and make them the most effective workers against the great
+evil. At present, the slaveholders blind them to this competition, by
+keeping alive their prejudice against the slaves, _as men_—not against
+them _as slaves_. They appeal to their pride, often denouncing
+emancipation, as tending to place the white man, on an equality with
+Negroes, and, by this means, they succeed in drawing off the minds of
+the poor whites from the real fact, that, by the rich slave-master,
+they are already regarded as but a single remove from equality with the
+slave. The impression is cunningly made, that slavery is the only power
+that can prevent the laboring white man from falling to the level of
+the slave’s poverty and degradation. To make this enmity deep and
+broad, between the slave and the poor white man, the latter is allowed
+to abuse and whip the former, without hinderance. But—as I have
+suggested—this state of facts prevails _mostly_ in the country. In the
+city of Baltimore, there are not unfrequent murmurs, that educating the
+slaves to be mechanics may, in the end, give slavemasters power to
+dispense with the services of the poor white man altogether. But, with
+characteristic dread of offending the slaveholders, these poor, white
+mechanics in Mr. Gardiner’s ship-yard—instead of applying the natural,
+honest remedy for the apprehended evil, and objecting at once to work
+there by the side of slaves—made a cowardly attack upon the free
+colored mechanics, saying _they_ were eating the bread which should be
+eaten by American freemen, and swearing that they would not work with
+them. The feeling was, _really_, against having their labor brought
+into competition with that of the colored people at all; but it was too
+much to strike directly at the interest of the slaveholders; and,
+therefore proving their servility and cowardice they dealt their blows
+on the poor, colored freeman, and aimed to prevent _him_ from serving
+himself, in the evening of life, with the trade with which he had
+served his master, during the more vigorous portion of his days. Had
+they succeeded in driving the black freemen out of the ship-yard, they
+would have determined also upon the removal of the black slaves. The
+feeling was very bitter toward all colored people in Baltimore, about
+this time (1836), and they—free and slave suffered all manner of insult
+and wrong.
+
+Until a very little before I went there, white and black ship
+carpenters worked side by side, in the ship yards of Mr. Gardiner, Mr.
+Duncan, Mr. Walter Price, and Mr. Robb. Nobody seemed to see any
+impropriety in it. To outward seeming, all hands were well satisfied.
+Some of the blacks were first rate workmen, and were given jobs
+requiring highest skill. All at once, however, the white carpenters
+knocked off, and swore that they would no longer work on the same stage
+with free Negroes. Taking advantage of the heavy contract resting upon
+Mr. Gardiner, to have the war vessels for Mexico ready to launch in
+July, and of the difficulty of getting other hands at that season of
+the year, they swore they would not strike another blow for him, unless
+he would discharge his free colored workmen.
+
+Now, although this movement did not extend to me, _in form_, it did
+reach me, _in fact_. The spirit which it awakened was one of malice and
+bitterness, toward colored people _generally_, and I suffered with the
+rest, and suffered severely. My fellow apprentices very soon began to
+feel it to be degrading to work with me. They began to put on high
+looks, and to talk contemptuously and maliciously of _“the Niggers;”_
+saying, that “they would take the country,” that “they ought to be
+killed.” Encouraged by the cowardly workmen, who, knowing me to be a
+slave, made no issue with Mr. Gardiner about my being there, these
+young men did their utmost to make it impossible for me to stay. They
+seldom called me to do any thing, without coupling the call with a
+curse, and Edward North, the biggest in every thing, rascality
+included, ventured to strike me, whereupon I picked him up, and threw
+him into the dock. Whenever any of them struck me, I struck back again,
+regardless of consequences. I could manage any of them _singly_, and,
+while I could keep them from combining, I succeeded very well. In the
+conflict which ended my stay at Mr. Gardiner’s, I was beset by four of
+them at once—Ned North, Ned Hays, Bill Stewart, and Tom Humphreys. Two
+of them were as large as myself, and they came near killing me, in
+broad day light. The attack was made suddenly, and simultaneously. One
+came in front, armed with a brick; there was one at each side, and one
+behind, and they closed up around me. I was struck on all sides; and,
+while I was attending to those in front, I received a blow on my head,
+from behind, dealt with a heavy hand-spike. I was completely stunned by
+the blow, and fell, heavily, on the ground, among the timbers. Taking
+advantage of my fall, they rushed upon me, and began to pound me with
+their fists. I let them lay on, for a while, after I came to myself,
+with a view of gaining strength. They did me little damage, so far;
+but, finally, getting tired of that sport, I gave a sudden surge, and,
+despite their weight, I rose to my hands and knees. Just as I did this,
+one of their number (I know not which) planted a blow with his boot in
+my left eye, which, for a time, seemed to have burst my eyeball. When
+they saw my eye completely closed, my face covered with blood, and I
+staggering under the stunning blows they had given me, they left me. As
+soon as I gathered sufficient strength, I picked up the hand-spike,
+and, madly enough, attempted to pursue them; but here the carpenters
+interfered, and compelled me to give up my frenzied pursuit. It was
+impossible to stand against so many.
+
+Dear reader, you can hardly believe the statement, but it is true, and,
+therefore, I write it down: not fewer than fifty white men stood by,
+and saw this brutal and shameless outrage committed, and not a man of
+them all interposed a single word of mercy. There were four against
+one, and that one’s face was beaten and battered most horribly, and no
+one said, “that is enough;” but some cried out, “Kill him—kill him—kill
+the d—d nigger! knock his brains out—he struck a white person.” I
+mention this inhuman outcry, to show the character of the men, and the
+spirit of the times, at Gardiner’s ship yard, and, indeed, in Baltimore
+generally, in 1836. As I look back to this period, I am almost amazed
+that I was not murdered outright, in that ship yard, so murderous was
+the spirit which prevailed there. On two occasions, while there, I came
+near losing my life. I was driving bolts in the hold, through the
+keelson, with Hays. In its course, the bolt bent. Hays cursed me, and
+said that it was my blow which bent the bolt. I denied this, and
+charged it upon him. In a fit of rage he seized an adze, and darted
+toward me. I met him with a maul, and parried his blow, or I should
+have then lost my life. A son of old Tom Lanman (the latter’s double
+murder I have elsewhere charged upon him), in the spirit of his
+miserable father, made an assault upon me, but the blow with his maul
+missed me. After the united assault of North, Stewart, Hays and
+Humphreys, finding that the carpenters were as bitter toward me as the
+apprentices, and that the latter were probably set on by the former, I
+found my only chances for life was in flight. I succeeded in getting
+away, without an additional blow. To strike a white man, was death, by
+Lynch law, in Gardiner’s ship yard; nor was there much of any other law
+toward colored people, at that time, in any other part of Maryland. The
+whole sentiment of Baltimore was murderous.
+
+After making my escape from the ship yard, I went straight home, and
+related the story of the outrage to Master Hugh Auld; and it is due to
+him to say, that his conduct—though he was not a religious man—was
+every way more humane than that of his brother, Thomas, when I went to
+the latter in a somewhat similar plight, from the hands of _“Brother
+Edward Covey.”_ He listened attentively to my narration of the
+circumstances leading to the ruffianly outrage, and gave many proofs of
+his strong indignation at what was done. Hugh was a rough, but
+manly-hearted fellow, and, at this time, his best nature showed itself.
+
+The heart of my once almost over-kind mistress, Sophia, was again
+melted in pity toward me. My puffed-out eye, and my scarred and
+blood-covered face, moved the dear lady to tears. She kindly drew a
+chair by me, and with friendly, consoling words, she took water, and
+washed the blood from my face. No mother’s hand could have been more
+tender than hers. She bound up my head, and covered my wounded eye with
+a lean piece of fresh beef. It was almost compensation for the
+murderous assault, and my suffering, that it furnished and occasion for
+the manifestation, once more, of the orignally(sic) characteristic
+kindness of my mistress. Her affectionate heart was not yet dead,
+though much hardened by time and by circumstances.
+
+As for Master Hugh’s part, as I have said, he was furious about it; and
+he gave expression to his fury in the usual forms of speech in that
+locality. He poured curses on the heads of the whole ship yard company,
+and swore that he would have satisfaction for the outrage. His
+indignation was really strong and healthy; but, unfortunately, it
+resulted from the thought that his rights of property, in my person,
+had not been respected, more than from any sense of the outrage
+committed on me _as a man_. I inferred as much as this, from the fact
+that he could, himself, beat and mangle when it suited him to do so.
+Bent on having satisfaction, as he said, just as soon as I got a little
+the better of my bruises, Master Hugh took me to Esquire Watson’s
+office, on Bond street, Fell’s Point, with a view to procuring the
+arrest of those who had assaulted me. He related the outrage to the
+magistrate, as I had related it to him, and seemed to expect that a
+warrant would, at once, be issued for the arrest of the lawless
+ruffians.
+
+Mr. Watson heard it all, and instead of drawing up his warrant, he
+inquired.—
+
+“Mr. Auld, who saw this assault of which you speak?”
+
+“It was done, sir, in the presence of a ship yard full of hands.”
+
+“Sir,” said Watson, “I am sorry, but I cannot move in this matter
+except upon the oath of white witnesses.”
+
+“But here’s the boy; look at his head and face,” said the excited
+Master Hugh; _“they_ show _what_ has been done.”
+
+But Watson insisted that he was not authorized to do anything, unless
+_white_ witnesses of the transaction would come forward, and testify to
+what had taken place. He could issue no warrant on my word, against
+white persons; and, if I had been killed in the presence of a _thousand
+blacks_, their testimony, combined would have been insufficient to
+arrest a single murderer. Master Hugh, for once, was compelled to say,
+that this state of things was _too bad;_ and he left the office of the
+magistrate, disgusted.
+
+Of course, it was impossible to get any white man to testify against my
+assailants. The carpenters saw what was done; but the actors were but
+the agents of their malice, and only what the carpenters sanctioned.
+They had cried, with one accord, _“Kill the nigger!” “Kill the
+nigger!”_ Even those who may have pitied me, if any such were among
+them, lacked the moral courage to come and volunteer their evidence.
+The slightest manifestation of sympathy or justice toward a person of
+color, was denounced as abolitionism; and the name of abolitionist,
+subjected its bearer to frightful liabilities. “D—n _abolitionists,”_
+and _“Kill the niggers,”_ were the watch-words of the foul-mouthed
+ruffians of those days. Nothing was done, and probably there would not
+have been any thing done, had I been killed in the affray. The laws and
+the morals of the Christian city of Baltimore, afforded no protection
+to the sable denizens of that city.
+
+Master Hugh, on finding he could get no redress for the cruel wrong,
+withdrew me from the employment of Mr. Gardiner, and took me into his
+own family, Mrs. Auld kindly taking care of me, and dressing my wounds,
+until they were healed, and I was ready to go again to work.
+
+While I was on the Eastern Shore, Master Hugh had met with reverses,
+which overthrew his business; and he had given up ship building in his
+own yard, on the City Block, and was now acting as foreman of Mr.
+Walter Price. The best he could now do for me, was to take me into Mr.
+Price’s yard, and afford me the facilities there, for completing the
+trade which I had began to learn at Gardiner’s. Here I rapidly became
+expert in the use of my calking tools; and, in the course of a single
+year, I was able to command the highest wages paid to journeymen
+calkers in Baltimore.
+
+The reader will observe that I was now of some pecuniary value to my
+master. During the busy season, I was bringing six and seven dollars
+per week. I have, sometimes, brought him as much as nine dollars a
+week, for the wages were a dollar and a half per day.
+
+After learning to calk, I sought my own employment, made my own
+contracts, and collected my own earnings; giving Master Hugh no trouble
+in any part of the transactions to which I was a party.
+
+Here, then, were better days for the Eastern Shore _slave_. I was now
+free from the vexatious assalts(sic) of the apprentices at Mr.
+Gardiner’s; and free from the perils of plantation life, and once more
+in a favorable condition to increase my little stock of education,
+which had been at a dead stand since my removal from Baltimore. I had,
+on the Eastern Shore, been only a teacher, when in company with other
+slaves, but now there were colored persons who could instruct me. Many
+of the young calkers could read, write and cipher. Some of them had
+high notions about mental improvement; and the free ones, on Fell’s
+Point, organized what they called the _“East Baltimore Mental
+Improvement Society.”_ To this society, notwithstanding it was intended
+that only free persons should attach themselves, I was admitted, and
+was, several times, assigned a prominent part in its debates. I owe
+much to the society of these young men.
+
+The reader already knows enough of the _ill_ effects of good treatment
+on a slave, to anticipate what was now the case in my improved
+condition. It was not long before I began to show signs of disquiet
+with slavery, and to look around for means to get out of that condition
+by the shortest route. I was living among _free men;_ and was, in all
+respects, equal to them by nature and by attainments. _Why should I be
+a slave?_ There was _no_ reason why I should be the thrall of any man.
+
+Besides, I was now getting—as I have said—a dollar and fifty cents per
+day. I contracted for it, worked for it, earned it, collected it; it
+was paid to me, and it was _rightfully_ my own; and yet, upon every
+returning Saturday night, this money—my own hard earnings, every cent
+of it—was demanded of me, and taken from me by Master Hugh. He did not
+earn it; he had no hand in earning it; why, then, should he have it? I
+owed him nothing. He had given me no schooling, and I had received from
+him only my food and raiment; and for these, my services were supposed
+to pay, from the first. The right to take my earnings, was the right of
+the robber. He had the power to compel me to give him the fruits of my
+labor, and this power was his only right in the case. I became more and
+more dissatisfied with this state of things; and, in so becoming, I
+only gave proof of the same human nature which every reader of this
+chapter in my life—slaveholder, or nonslaveholder—is conscious of
+possessing.
+
+To make a contented slave, you must make a thoughtless one. It is
+necessary to darken his moral and mental vision, and, as far as
+possible, to annihilate his power of reason. He must be able to detect
+no inconsistencies in slavery. The man that takes his earnings, must be
+able to convince him that he has a perfect right to do so. It must not
+depend upon mere force; the slave must know no Higher Law than his
+master’s will. The whole relationship must not only demonstrate, to his
+mind, its necessity, but its absolute rightfulness. If there be one
+crevice through which a single drop can fall, it will certainly rust
+off the slave’s chain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. _My Escape from Slavery_
+
+
+CLOSING INCIDENTS OF “MY LIFE AS A SLAVE”—REASONS WHY FULL PARTICULARS
+OF THE MANNER OF MY ESCAPE WILL NOT BE GIVEN—CRAFTINESS AND MALICE OF
+SLAVEHOLDERS—SUSPICION OF AIDING A SLAVE’S ESCAPE ABOUT AS DANGEROUS AS
+POSITIVE EVIDENCE—WANT OF WISDOM SHOWN IN PUBLISHING DETAILS OF THE
+ESCAPE OF THE FUGITIVES—PUBLISHED ACCOUNTS REACH THE MASTERS, NOT THE
+SLAVES—SLAVEHOLDERS STIMULATED TO GREATER WATCHFULNESS—MY
+CONDITION—DISCONTENT—SUSPICIONS IMPLIED BY MASTER HUGH’S MANNER, WHEN
+RECEIVING MY WAGES—HIS OCCASIONAL GENEROSITY!—DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY
+OF ESCAPE—EVERY AVENUE GUARDED—PLAN TO OBTAIN MONEY—I AM ALLOWED TO
+HIRE MY TIME—A GLEAM OF HOPE—ATTENDS CAMP-MEETING, WITHOUT
+PERMISSION—ANGER OF MASTER HUGH THEREAT—THE RESULT—MY PLANS OF ESCAPE
+ACCELERATED THERBY—THE DAY FOR MY DEPARTURE FIXED—HARASSED BY DOUBTS
+AND FEARS—PAINFUL THOUGHTS OF SEPARATION FROM FRIENDS—THE ATTEMPT
+MADE—ITS SUCCESS.
+
+
+I will now make the kind reader acquainted with the closing incidents
+of my “Life as a Slave,” having already trenched upon the limit
+allotted to my “Life as a Freeman.” Before, however, proceeding with
+this narration, it is, perhaps, proper that I should frankly state, in
+advance, my intention to withhold a part of the(sic) connected with my
+escape from slavery. There are reasons for this suppression, which I
+trust the reader will deem altogether valid. It may be easily
+conceived, that a full and complete statement of all facts pertaining
+to the flight of a bondman, might implicate and embarrass some who may
+have, wittingly or unwittingly, assisted him; and no one can wish me to
+involve any man or woman who has befriended me, even in the liability
+of embarrassment or trouble.
+
+Keen is the scent of the slaveholder; like the fangs of the
+rattlesnake, his malice retains its poison long; and, although it is
+now nearly seventeen years since I made my escape, it is well to be
+careful, in dealing with the circumstances relating to it. Were I to
+give but a shadowy outline of the process adopted, with characteristic
+aptitude, the crafty and malicious among the slaveholders might,
+possibly, hit upon the track I pursued, and involve some one in
+suspicion which, in a slave state, is about as bad as positive
+evidence. The colored man, there, must not only shun evil, but shun the
+very _appearance_ of evil, or be condemned as a criminal. A
+slaveholding community has a peculiar taste for ferreting out offenses
+against the slave system, justice there being more sensitive in its
+regard for the peculiar rights of this system, than for any other
+interest or institution. By stringing together a train of events and
+circumstances, even if I were not very explicit, the means of escape
+might be ascertained, and, possibly, those means be rendered,
+thereafter, no longer available to the liberty-seeking children of
+bondage I have left behind me. No antislavery man can wish me to do
+anything favoring such results, and no slaveholding reader has any
+right to expect the impartment of such information.
+
+While, therefore, it would afford me pleasure, and perhaps would
+materially add to the interest of my story, were I at liberty to
+gratify a curiosity which I know to exist in the minds of many, as to
+the manner of my escape, I must deprive myself of this pleasure, and
+the curious of the gratification, which such a statement of facts would
+afford. I would allow myself to suffer under the greatest imputations
+that evil minded men might suggest, rather than exculpate myself by
+explanation, and thereby run the hazards of closing the slightest
+avenue by which a brother in suffering might clear himself of the
+chains and fetters of slavery.
+
+The practice of publishing every new invention by which a slave is
+known to have escaped from slavery, has neither wisdom nor necessity to
+sustain it. Had not Henry Box Brown and his friends attracted
+slaveholding attention to the manner of his escape, we might have had a
+thousand _Box Browns_ per annum. The singularly original plan adopted
+by William and Ellen Crafts, perished with the first using, because
+every slaveholder in the land was apprised of it. The _salt water
+slave_ who hung in the guards of a steamer, being washed three days and
+three nights—like another Jonah—by the waves of the sea, has, by the
+publicity given to the circumstance, set a spy on the guards of every
+steamer departing from southern ports.
+
+I have never approved of the very public manner, in which some of our
+western friends have conducted what _they_ call the _“Under-ground
+Railroad,”_ but which, I think, by their open declarations, has been
+made, most emphatically, the _“Upper_-ground Railroad.” Its stations
+are far better known to the slaveholders than to the slaves. I honor
+those good men and women for their noble daring, in willingly
+subjecting themselves to persecution, by openly avowing their
+participation in the escape of slaves; nevertheless, the good resulting
+from such avowals, is of a very questionable character. It may kindle
+an enthusiasm, very pleasant to inhale; but that is of no practical
+benefit to themselves, nor to the slaves escaping. Nothing is more
+evident, than that such disclosures are a positive evil to the slaves
+remaining, and seeking to escape. In publishing such accounts, the
+anti-slavery man addresses the slaveholder, _not the slave;_ he
+stimulates the former to greater watchfulness, and adds to his
+facilities for capturing his slave. We owe something to the slaves,
+south of Mason and Dixon’s line, as well as to those north of it; and,
+in discharging the duty of aiding the latter, on their way to freedom,
+we should be careful to do nothing which would be likely to hinder the
+former, in making their escape from slavery. Such is my detestation of
+slavery, that I would keep the merciless slaveholder profoundly
+ignorant of the means of flight adopted by the slave. He should be left
+to imagine himself surrounded by myriads of invisible tormentors, ever
+ready to snatch, from his infernal grasp, his trembling prey. In
+pursuing his victim, let him be left to feel his way in the dark; let
+shades of darkness, commensurate with his crime, shut every ray of
+light from his pathway; and let him be made to feel, that, at every
+step he takes, with the hellish purpose of reducing a brother man to
+slavery, he is running the frightful risk of having his hot brains
+dashed out by an invisible hand.
+
+But, enough of this. I will now proceed to the statement of those
+facts, connected with my escape, for which I am alone responsible, and
+for which no one can be made to suffer but myself.
+
+My condition in the year (1838) of my escape, was, comparatively, a
+free and easy one, so far, at least, as the wants of the physical man
+were concerned; but the reader will bear in mind, that my troubles from
+the beginning, have been less physical than mental, and he will thus be
+prepared to find, after what is narrated in the previous chapters, that
+slave life was adding nothing to its charms for me, as I grew older,
+and became better acquainted with it. The practice, from week to week,
+of openly robbing me of all my earnings, kept the nature and character
+of slavery constantly before me. I could be robbed by _indirection_,
+but this was _too_ open and barefaced to be endured. I could see no
+reason why I should, at the end of each week, pour the reward of my
+honest toil into the purse of any man. The thought itself vexed me, and
+the manner in which Master Hugh received my wages, vexed me more than
+the original wrong. Carefully counting the money and rolling it out,
+dollar by dollar, he would look me in the face, as if he would search
+my heart as well as my pocket, and reproachfully ask me, “_Is that
+all_?”—implying that I had, perhaps, kept back part of my wages; or, if
+not so, the demand was made, possibly, to make me feel, that, after
+all, I was an “unprofitable servant.” Draining me of the last cent of
+my hard earnings, he would, however, occasionally—when I brought home
+an extra large sum—dole out to me a sixpence or a shilling, with a
+view, perhaps, of kindling up my gratitude; but this practice had the
+opposite effect—it was an admission of _my right to the whole sum_. The
+fact, that he gave me any part of my wages, was proof that he suspected
+that I had a right _to the whole of them_. I always felt uncomfortable,
+after having received anything in this way, for I feared that the
+giving me a few cents, might, possibly, ease his conscience, and make
+him feel himself a pretty honorable robber, after all!
+
+Held to a strict account, and kept under a close watch—the old
+suspicion of my running away not having been entirely removed—escape
+from slavery, even in Baltimore, was very difficult. The railroad from
+Baltimore to Philadelphia was under regulations so stringent, that even
+_free_ colored travelers were almost excluded. They must have _free_
+papers; they must be measured and carefully examined, before they were
+allowed to enter the cars; they only went in the day time, even when so
+examined. The steamboats were under regulations equally stringent. All
+the great turnpikes, leading northward, were beset with kidnappers, a
+class of men who watched the newspapers for advertisements for runaway
+slaves, making their living by the accursed reward of slave hunting.
+
+My discontent grew upon me, and I was on the look-out for means of
+escape. With money, I could easily have managed the matter, and,
+therefore, I hit upon the plan of soliciting the privilege of hiring my
+time. It is quite common, in Baltimore, to allow slaves this privilege,
+and it is the practice, also, in New Orleans. A slave who is considered
+trustworthy, can, by paying his master a definite sum regularly, at the
+end of each week, dispose of his time as he likes. It so happened that
+I was not in very good odor, and I was far from being a trustworthy
+slave. Nevertheless, I watched my opportunity when Master Thomas came
+to Baltimore (for I was still his property, Hugh only acted as his
+agent) in the spring of 1838, to purchase his spring supply of goods,
+and applied to him, directly, for the much-coveted privilege of hiring
+my time. This request Master Thomas unhesitatingly refused to grant;
+and he charged me, with some sternness, with inventing this stratagem
+to make my escape. He told me, “I could go _nowhere_ but he could catch
+me; and, in the event of my running away, I might be assured he should
+spare no pains in his efforts to recapture me.” He recounted, with a
+good deal of eloquence, the many kind offices he had done me, and
+exhorted me to be contented and obedient. “Lay out no plans for the
+future,” said he. “If you behave yourself properly, I will take care of
+you.” Now, kind and considerate as this offer was, it failed to soothe
+me into repose. In spite of Master Thomas, and, I may say, in spite of
+myself, also, I continued to think, and worse still, to think almost
+exclusively about the injustice and wickedness of slavery. No effort of
+mine or of his could silence this trouble-giving thought, or change my
+purpose to run away.
+
+About two months after applying to Master Thomas for the privilege of
+hiring my time, I applied to Master Hugh for the same liberty,
+supposing him to be unacquainted with the fact that I had made a
+similar application to Master Thomas, and had been refused. My boldness
+in making this request, fairly astounded him at the first. He gazed at
+me in amazement. But I had many good reasons for pressing the matter;
+and, after listening to them awhile, he did not absolutely refuse, but
+told me he would think of it. Here, then, was a gleam of hope. Once
+master of my own time, I felt sure that I could make, over and above my
+obligation to him, a dollar or two every week. Some slaves have made
+enough, in this way, to purchase their freedom. It is a sharp spur to
+industry; and some of the most enterprising colored men in Baltimore
+hire themselves in this way. After mature reflection—as I must suppose
+it was Master Hugh granted me the privilege in question, on the
+following terms: I was to be allowed all my time; to make all bargains
+for work; to find my own employment, and to collect my own wages; and,
+in return for this liberty, I was required, or obliged, to pay him
+three dollars at the end of each week, and to board and clothe myself,
+and buy my own calking tools. A failure in any of these particulars
+would put an end to my privilege. This was a hard bargain. The wear and
+tear of clothing, the losing and breaking of tools, and the expense of
+board, made it necessary for me to earn at least six dollars per week,
+to keep even with the world. All who are acquainted with calking, know
+how uncertain and irregular that employment is. It can be done to
+advantage only in dry weather, for it is useless to put wet oakum into
+a seam. Rain or shine, however, work or no work, at the end of each
+week the money must be forthcoming.
+
+Master Hugh seemed to be very much pleased, for a time, with this
+arrangement; and well he might be, for it was decidedly in his favor.
+It relieved him of all anxiety concerning me. His money was sure. He
+had armed my love of liberty with a lash and a driver, far more
+efficient than any I had before known; and, while he derived all the
+benefits of slaveholding by the arrangement, without its evils, I
+endured all the evils of being a slave, and yet suffered all the care
+and anxiety of a responsible freeman. “Nevertheless,” thought I, “it is
+a valuable privilege another step in my career toward freedom.” It was
+something even to be permitted to stagger under the disadvantages of
+liberty, and I was determined to hold on to the newly gained footing,
+by all proper industry. I was ready to work by night as well as by day;
+and being in the enjoyment of excellent health, I was able not only to
+meet my current expenses, but also to lay by a small sum at the end of
+each week. All went on thus, from the month of May till August;
+then—for reasons which will become apparent as I proceed—my much valued
+liberty was wrested from me.
+
+During the week previous to this (to me) calamitous event, I had made
+arrangements with a few young friends, to accompany them, on Saturday
+night, to a camp-meeting, held about twelve miles from Baltimore. On
+the evening of our intended start for the camp-ground, something
+occurred in the ship yard where I was at work, which detained me
+unusually late, and compelled me either to disappoint my young friends,
+or to neglect carrying my weekly dues to Master Hugh. Knowing that I
+had the money, and could hand it to him on another day, I decided to go
+to camp-meeting, and to pay him the three dollars, for the past week,
+on my return. Once on the camp-ground, I was induced to remain one day
+longer than I had intended, when I left home. But, as soon as I
+returned, I went straight to his house on Fell street, to hand him his
+(my) money. Unhappily, the fatal mistake had been committed. I found
+him exceedingly angry. He exhibited all the signs of apprehension and
+wrath, which a slaveholder may be surmised to exhibit on the supposed
+escape of a favorite slave. “You rascal! I have a great mind to give
+you a severe whipping. How dare you go out of the city without first
+asking and obtaining my permission?” “Sir,” said I, “I hired my time
+and paid you the price you asked for it. I did not know that it was any
+part of the bargain that I should ask you when or where I should go.”
+
+“You did not know, you rascal! You are bound to show yourself here
+every Saturday night.” After reflecting, a few moments, he became
+somewhat cooled down; but, evidently greatly troubled, he said, “Now,
+you scoundrel! you have done for yourself; you shall hire your time no
+longer. The next thing I shall hear of, will be your running away.
+Bring home your tools and your clothes, at once. I’ll teach you how to
+go off in this way.”
+
+Thus ended my partial freedom. I could hire my time no longer; and I
+obeyed my master’s orders at once. The little taste of liberty which I
+had had—although as the reader will have seen, it was far from being
+unalloyed—by no means enhanced my contentment with slavery. Punished
+thus by Master Hugh, it was now my turn to punish him. “Since,” thought
+I, “you _will_ make a slave of me, I will await your orders in all
+things;” and, instead of going to look for work on Monday morning, as I
+had formerly done, I remained at home during the entire week, without
+the performance of a single stroke of work. Saturday night came, and he
+called upon me, as usual, for my wages. I, of course, told him I had
+done no work, and had no wages. Here we were at the point of coming to
+blows. His wrath had been accumulating during the whole week; for he
+evidently saw that I was making no effort to get work, but was most
+aggravatingly awaiting his orders, in all things. As I look back to
+this behavior of mine, I scarcely know what possessed me, thus to
+trifle with those who had such unlimited power to bless or to blast me.
+Master Hugh raved and swore his determination to _“get hold of me;”_
+but, wisely for _him_, and happily for _me_, his wrath only employed
+those very harmless, impalpable missiles, which roll from a limber
+tongue. In my desperation, I had fully made up my mind to measure
+strength with Master Hugh, in case he should undertake to execute his
+threats. I am glad there was no necessity for this; for resistance to
+him could not have ended so happily for me, as it did in the case of
+Covey. He was not a man to be safely resisted by a slave; and I freely
+own, that in my conduct toward him, in this instance, there was more
+folly than wisdom. Master Hugh closed his reproofs, by telling me that,
+hereafter, I need give myself no uneasiness about getting work; that he
+“would, himself, see to getting work for me, and enough of it, at
+that.” This threat I confess had some terror in it; and, on thinking
+the matter over, during the Sunday, I resolved, not only to save him
+the trouble of getting me work, but that, upon the third day of
+September, I would attempt to make my escape from slavery. The refusal
+to allow me to hire my time, therefore, hastened the period of flight.
+I had three weeks, now, in which to prepare for my journey.
+
+Once resolved, I felt a certain degree of repose, and on Monday,
+instead of waiting for Master Hugh to seek employment for me, I was up
+by break of day, and off to the ship yard of Mr. Butler, on the City
+Block, near the draw-bridge. I was a favorite with Mr. B., and, young
+as I was, I had served as his foreman on the float stage, at calking.
+Of course, I easily obtained work, and, at the end of the week—which by
+the way was exceedingly fine I brought Master Hugh nearly nine dollars.
+The effect of this mark of returning good sense, on my part, was
+excellent. He was very much pleased; he took the money, commended me,
+and told me I might have done the same thing the week before. It is a
+blessed thing that the tyrant may not always know the thoughts and
+purposes of his victim. Master Hugh little knew what my plans were. The
+going to camp-meeting without asking his permission—the insolent
+answers made to his reproaches—the sulky deportment the week after
+being deprived of the privilege of hiring my time—had awakened in him
+the suspicion that I might be cherishing disloyal purposes. My object,
+therefore, in working steadily, was to remove suspicion, and in this I
+succeeded admirably. He probably thought I was never better satisfied
+with my condition, than at the very time I was planning my escape. The
+second week passed, and again I carried him my full week’s wages—_nine
+dollars;_ and so well pleased was he, that he gave me TWENTY-FIVE
+CENTS! and “bade me make good use of it!” I told him I would, for one
+of the uses to which I meant to put it, was to pay my fare on the
+underground railroad.
+
+Things without went on as usual; but I was passing through the same
+internal excitement and anxiety which I had experienced two years and a
+half before. The failure, in that instance, was not calculated to
+increase my confidence in the success of this, my second attempt; and I
+knew that a second failure could not leave me where my first did—I must
+either get to the _far north_, or be sent to the _far south_. Besides
+the exercise of mind from this state of facts, I had the painful
+sensation of being about to separate from a circle of honest and warm
+hearted friends, in Baltimore. The thought of such a separation, where
+the hope of ever meeting again is excluded, and where there can be no
+correspondence, is very painful. It is my opinion, that thousands would
+escape from slavery who now remain there, but for the strong cords of
+affection that bind them to their families, relatives and friends. The
+daughter is hindered from escaping, by the love she bears her mother,
+and the father, by the love he bears his children; and so, to the end
+of the chapter. I had no relations in Baltimore, and I saw no
+probability of ever living in the neighborhood of sisters and brothers;
+but the thought of leaving my friends, was among the strongest
+obstacles to my running away. The last two days of the week—Friday and
+Saturday—were spent mostly in collecting my things together, for my
+journey. Having worked four days that week, for my master, I handed him
+six dollars, on Saturday night. I seldom spent my Sundays at home; and,
+for fear that something might be discovered in my conduct, I kept up my
+custom, and absented myself all day. On Monday, the third day of
+September, 1838, in accordance with my resolution, I bade farewell to
+the city of Baltimore, and to that slavery which had been my abhorrence
+from childhood.
+
+How I got away—in what direction I traveled—whether by land or by
+water; whether with or without assistance—must, for reasons already
+mentioned, remain unexplained.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE as a FREEMAN
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. _Liberty Attained_
+
+
+TRANSITION FROM SLAVERY TO FREEDOM—A WANDERER IN NEW YORK—FEELINGS ON
+REACHING THAT CITY—AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE MET—UNFAVORABLE
+IMPRESSIONS—LONELINESS AND INSECURITY—APOLOGY FOR SLAVES WHO RETURN TO
+THEIR MASTERS—COMPELLED TO TELL MY CONDITION—SUCCORED BY A SAILOR—DAVID
+RUGGLES—THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD—MARRIAGE—BAGGAGE TAKEN FROM
+ME—KINDNESS OF NATHAN JOHNSON—MY CHANGE OF NAME—DARK NOTIONS OF
+NORTHERN CIVILIZATION—THE CONTRAST—COLORED PEOPLE IN NEW BEDFORD—AN
+INCIDENT ILLUSTRATING THEIR SPIRIT—A COMMON LABORER—DENIED WORK AT MY
+TRADE—THE FIRST WINTER AT THE NORTH—REPULSE AT THE DOORS OF THE
+CHURCH—SANCTIFIED HATE—THE _Liberator_ AND ITS EDITOR.
+
+
+There is no necessity for any extended notice of the incidents of this
+part of my life. There is nothing very striking or peculiar about my
+career as a freeman, when viewed apart from my life as a slave. The
+relation subsisting between my early experience and that which I am now
+about to narrate, is, perhaps, my best apology for adding another
+chapter to this book.
+
+Disappearing from the kind reader, in a flying cloud or balloon (pardon
+the figure), driven by the wind, and knowing not where I should
+land—whether in slavery or in freedom—it is proper that I should
+remove, at once, all anxiety, by frankly making known where I alighted.
+The flight was a bold and perilous one; but here I am, in the great
+city of New York, safe and sound, without loss of blood or bone. In
+less than a week after leaving Baltimore, I was walking amid the
+hurrying throng, and gazing upon the dazzling wonders of Broadway. The
+dreams of my childhood and the purposes of my manhood were now
+fulfilled. A free state around me, and a free earth under my feet! What
+a moment was this to me! A whole year was pressed into a single day. A
+new world burst upon my agitated vision. I have often been asked, by
+kind friends to whom I have told my story, how I felt when first I
+found myself beyond the limits of slavery; and I must say here, as I
+have often said to them, there is scarcely anything about which I could
+not give a more satisfactory answer. It was a moment of joyous
+excitement, which no words can describe. In a letter to a friend,
+written soon after reaching New York. I said I felt as one might be
+supposed to feel, on escaping from a den of hungry lions. But, in a
+moment like that, sensations are too intense and too rapid for words.
+Anguish and grief, like darkness and rain, may be described, but joy
+and gladness, like the rainbow of promise, defy alike the pen and
+pencil.
+
+For ten or fifteen years I had been dragging a heavy chain, with a huge
+block attached to it, cumbering my every motion. I had felt myself
+doomed to drag this chain and this block through life. All efforts,
+before, to separate myself from the hateful encumbrance, had only
+seemed to rivet me the more firmly to it. Baffled and discouraged at
+times, I had asked myself the question, May not this, after all, be
+God’s work? May He not, for wise ends, have doomed me to this lot? A
+contest had been going on in my mind for years, between the clear
+consciousness of right and the plausible errors of superstition;
+between the wisdom of manly courage, and the foolish weakness of
+timidity. The contest was now ended; the chain was severed; God and
+right stood vindicated. I was A FREEMAN, and the voice of peace and joy
+thrilled my heart.
+
+Free and joyous, however, as I was, joy was not the only sensation I
+experienced. It was like the quick blaze, beautiful at the first, but
+which subsiding, leaves the building charred and desolate. I was soon
+taught that I was still in an enemy’s land. A sense of loneliness and
+insecurity oppressed me sadly. I had been but a few hours in New York,
+before I was met in the streets by a fugitive slave, well known to me,
+and the information I got from him respecting New York, did nothing to
+lessen my apprehension of danger. The fugitive in question was
+“Allender’s Jake,” in Baltimore; but, said he, I am “WILLIAM DIXON,” in
+New York! I knew Jake well, and knew when Tolly Allender and Mr. Price
+(for the latter employed Master Hugh as his foreman, in his shipyard on
+Fell’s Point) made an attempt to recapture Jake, and failed. Jake told
+me all about his circumstances, and how narrowly he escaped being taken
+back to slavery; that the city was now full of southerners, returning
+from the springs; that the black people in New York were not to be
+trusted; that there were hired men on the lookout for fugitives from
+slavery, and who, for a few dollars, would betray me into the hands of
+the slave-catchers; that I must trust no man with my secret; that I
+must not think of going either on the wharves to work, or to a
+boarding-house to board; and, worse still, this same Jake told me it
+was not in his power to help me. He seemed, even while cautioning me,
+to be fearing lest, after all, I might be a party to a second attempt
+to recapture him. Under the inspiration of this thought, I must suppose
+it was, he gave signs of a wish to get rid of me, and soon left me his
+whitewash brush in hand—as he said, for his work. He was soon lost to
+sight among the throng, and I was alone again, an easy prey to the
+kidnappers, if any should happen to be on my track.
+
+New York, seventeen years ago, was less a place of safety for a runaway
+slave than now, and all know how unsafe it now is, under the new
+fugitive slave bill. I was much troubled. I had very little money
+enough to buy me a few loaves of bread, but not enough to pay board,
+outside a lumber yard. I saw the wisdom of keeping away from the ship
+yards, for if Master Hugh pursued me, he would naturally expect to find
+me looking for work among the calkers. For a time, every door seemed
+closed against me. A sense of my loneliness and helplessness crept over
+me, and covered me with something bordering on despair. In the midst of
+thousands of my fellowmen, and yet a perfect stranger! In the midst of
+human brothers, and yet more fearful of them than of hungry wolves! I
+was without home, without friends, without work, without money, and
+without any definite knowledge of which way to go, or where to look for
+succor.
+
+Some apology can easily be made for the few slaves who have, after
+making good their escape, turned back to slavery, preferring the actual
+rule of their masters, to the life of loneliness, apprehension, hunger,
+and anxiety, which meets them on their first arrival in a free state.
+It is difficult for a freeman to enter into the feelings of such
+fugitives. He cannot see things in the same light with the slave,
+because he does not, and cannot, look from the same point from which
+the slave does. “Why do you tremble,” he says to the slave “you are in
+a free state;” but the difficulty is, in realizing that he is in a free
+state, the slave might reply. A freeman cannot understand why the
+slave-master’s shadow is bigger, to the slave, than the might and
+majesty of a free state; but when he reflects that the slave knows more
+about the slavery of his master than he does of the might and majesty
+of the free state, he has the explanation. The slave has been all his
+life learning the power of his master—being trained to dread his
+approach—and only a few hours learning the power of the state. The
+master is to him a stern and flinty reality, but the state is little
+more than a dream. He has been accustomed to regard every white man as
+the friend of his master, and every colored man as more or less under
+the control of his master’s friends—the white people. It takes stout
+nerves to stand up, in such circumstances. A man, homeless,
+shelterless, breadless, friendless, and moneyless, is not in a
+condition to assume a very proud or joyous tone; and in just this
+condition was I, while wandering about the streets of New York city and
+lodging, at least one night, among the barrels on one of its wharves. I
+was not only free from slavery, but I was free from home, as well. The
+reader will easily see that I had something more than the simple fact
+of being free to think of, in this extremity.
+
+I kept my secret as long as I could, and at last was forced to go in
+search of an honest man—a man sufficiently _human_ not to betray me
+into the hands of slave-catchers. I was not a bad reader of the human
+face, nor long in selecting the right man, when once compelled to
+disclose the facts of my condition to some one.
+
+I found my man in the person of one who said his name was Stewart. He
+was a sailor, warm-hearted and generous, and he listened to my story
+with a brother’s interest. I told him I was running for my freedom—knew
+not where to go—money almost gone—was hungry—thought it unsafe to go
+the shipyards for work, and needed a friend. Stewart promptly put me in
+the way of getting out of my trouble. He took me to his house, and went
+in search of the late David Ruggles, who was then the secretary of the
+New York Vigilance Committee, and a very active man in all anti-slavery
+works. Once in the hands of Mr. Ruggles, I was comparatively safe. I
+was hidden with Mr. Ruggles several days. In the meantime, my intended
+wife, Anna, came on from Baltimore—to whom I had written, informing her
+of my safe arrival at New York—and, in the presence of Mrs. Mitchell
+and Mr. Ruggles, we were married, by Rev. James W. C. Pennington.
+
+Mr. Ruggles 7 was the first officer on the under-ground railroad with
+whom I met after reaching the north, and, indeed, the first of whom I
+ever heard anything. Learning that I was a calker by trade, he promptly
+decided that New Bedford was the proper place to send me. “Many ships,”
+said he, “are there fitted out for the whaling business, and you may
+there find work at your trade, and make a good living.” Thus, in one
+fortnight after my flight from Maryland, I was safe in New Bedford,
+regularly entered upon the exercise of the rights, responsibilities,
+and duties of a freeman.
+
+I may mention a little circumstance which annoyed me on reaching New
+Bedford. I had not a cent of money, and lacked two dollars toward
+paying our fare from Newport, and our baggage not very costly—was taken
+by the stage driver, and held until I could raise the money to redeem
+it. This difficulty was soon surmounted. Mr. Nathan Johnson, to whom we
+had a line from Mr. Ruggles, not only received us kindly and
+hospitably, but, on being informed about our baggage, promptly loaned
+me two dollars with which to redeem my little property. I shall ever be
+deeply grateful, both to Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Johnson, for the lively
+interest they were pleased to take in me, in this hour of my extremest
+need. They not only gave myself and wife bread and shelter, but taught
+us how to begin to secure those benefits for ourselves. Long may they
+live, and may blessings attend them in this life and in that which is
+to come!
+
+Once initiated into the new life of freedom, and assured by Mr. Johnson
+that New Bedford was a safe place, the comparatively unimportant
+matter, as to what should be my name, came up for considertion(sic). It
+was necessary to have a name in my new relations. The name given me by
+my beloved mother was no less pretentious than “Frederick Augustus
+Washington Bailey.” I had, however, before leaving Maryland, dispensed
+with the _Augustus Washington_, and retained the name _Frederick
+Bailey_. Between Baltimore and New Bedford, however, I had several
+different names, the better to avoid being overhauled by the hunters,
+which I had good reason to believe would be put on my track. Among
+honest men an honest man may well be content with one name, and to
+acknowledge it at all times and in all places; but toward fugitives,
+Americans are not honest. When I arrived at New Bedford, my name was
+Johnson; and finding that the Johnson family in New Bedford were
+already quite numerous—sufficiently so to produce some confusion in
+attempts to distinguish one from another—there was the more reason for
+making another change in my name. In fact, “Johnson” had been assumed
+by nearly every slave who had arrived in New Bedford from Maryland, and
+this, much to the annoyance of the original “Johnsons” (of whom there
+were many) in that place. Mine host, unwilling to have another of his
+own name added to the community in this unauthorized way, after I spent
+a night and a day at his house, gave me my present name. He had been
+reading the “Lady of the Lake,” and was pleased to regard me as a
+suitable person to wear this, one of Scotland’s many famous names.
+Considering the noble hospitality and manly character of Nathan
+Johnson, I have felt that he, better than I, illustrated the virtues of
+the great Scottish chief. Sure I am, that had any slave-catcher entered
+his domicile, with a view to molest any one of his household, he would
+have shown himself like him of the “stalwart hand.”
+
+The reader will be amused at my ignorance, when I tell the notions I
+had of the state of northern wealth, enterprise, and civilization. Of
+wealth and refinement, I supposed the north had none. My _Columbian
+Orator_, which was almost my only book, had not done much to enlighten
+me concerning northern society. The impressions I had received were all
+wide of the truth. New Bedford, especially, took me by surprise, in the
+solid wealth and grandeur there exhibited. I had formed my notions
+respecting the social condition of the free states, by what I had seen
+and known of free, white, non-slaveholding people in the slave states.
+Regarding slavery as the basis of wealth, I fancied that no people
+could become very wealthy without slavery. A free white man, holding no
+slaves, in the country, I had known to be the most ignorant and
+poverty-stricken of men, and the laughing stock even of slaves
+themselves—called generally by them, in derision, _“poor white trash_.”
+Like the non-slaveholders at the south, in holding no slaves, I suppose
+the northern people like them, also, in poverty and degradation. Judge,
+then, of my amazement and joy, when I found—as I did find—the very
+laboring population of New Bedford living in better houses, more
+elegantly furnished—surrounded by more comfort and refinement—than a
+majority of the slaveholders on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. There
+was my friend, Mr. Johnson, himself a colored man (who at the south
+would have been regarded as a proper marketable commodity), who lived
+in a better house—dined at a richer board—was the owner of more
+books—the reader of more newspapers—was more conversant with the
+political and social condition of this nation and the world—than
+nine-tenths of all the slaveholders of Talbot county, Maryland. Yet Mr.
+Johnson was a working man, and his hands were hardened by honest toil.
+Here, then, was something for observation and study. Whence the
+difference? The explanation was soon furnished, in the superiority of
+mind over simple brute force. Many pages might be given to the
+contrast, and in explanation of its causes. But an incident or two will
+suffice to show the reader as to how the mystery gradually vanished
+before me.
+
+My first afternoon, on reaching New Bedford, was spent in visiting the
+wharves and viewing the shipping. The sight of the broad brim and the
+plain, Quaker dress, which met me at every turn, greatly increased my
+sense of freedom and security. “I am among the Quakers,” thought I,
+“and am safe.” Lying at the wharves and riding in the stream, were
+full-rigged ships of finest model, ready to start on whaling voyages.
+Upon the right and the left, I was walled in by large granite-fronted
+warehouses, crowded with the good things of this world. On the wharves,
+I saw industry without bustle, labor without noise, and heavy toil
+without the whip. There was no loud singing, as in southern ports,
+where ships are loading or unloading—no loud cursing or swearing—but
+everything went on as smoothly as the works of a well adjusted machine.
+How different was all this from the nosily fierce and clumsily absurd
+manner of labor-life in Baltimore and St. Michael’s! One of the first
+incidents which illustrated the superior mental character of northern
+labor over that of the south, was the manner of unloading a ship’s
+cargo of oil. In a southern port, twenty or thirty hands would have
+been employed to do what five or six did here, with the aid of a single
+ox attached to the end of a fall. Main strength, unassisted by skill,
+is slavery’s method of labor. An old ox, worth eighty dollars, was
+doing, in New Bedford, what would have required fifteen thousand
+dollars worth of human bones and muscles to have performed in a
+southern port. I found that everything was done here with a scrupulous
+regard to economy, both in regard to men and things, time and strength.
+The maid servant, instead of spending at least a tenth part of her time
+in bringing and carrying water, as in Baltimore, had the pump at her
+elbow. The wood was dry, and snugly piled away for winter. Woodhouses,
+in-door pumps, sinks, drains, self-shutting gates, washing machines,
+pounding barrels, were all new things, and told me that I was among a
+thoughtful and sensible people. To the ship-repairing dock I went, and
+saw the same wise prudence. The carpenters struck where they aimed, and
+the calkers wasted no blows in idle flourishes of the mallet. I learned
+that men went from New Bedford to Baltimore, and bought old ships, and
+brought them here to repair, and made them better and more valuable
+than they ever were before. Men talked here of going whaling on a four
+_years’_ voyage with more coolness than sailors where I came from
+talked of going a four _months’_ voyage.
+
+I now find that I could have landed in no part of the United States,
+where I should have found a more striking and gratifying contrast to
+the condition of the free people of color in Baltimore, than I found
+here in New Bedford. No colored man is really free in a slaveholding
+state. He wears the badge of bondage while nominally free, and is often
+subjected to hardships to which the slave is a stranger; but here in
+New Bedford, it was my good fortune to see a pretty near approach to
+freedom on the part of the colored people. I was taken all aback when
+Mr. Johnson—who lost no time in making me acquainted with the fact—told
+me that there was nothing in the constitution of Massachusetts to
+prevent a colored man from holding any office in the state. There, in
+New Bedford, the black man’s children—although anti-slavery was then
+far from popular—went to school side by side with the white children,
+and apparently without objection from any quarter. To make me at home,
+Mr. Johnson assured me that no slaveholder could take a slave from New
+Bedford; that there were men there who would lay down their lives,
+before such an outrage could be perpetrated. The colored people
+themselves were of the best metal, and would fight for liberty to the
+death.
+
+Soon after my arrival in New Bedford, I was told the following story,
+which was said to illustrate the spirit of the colored people in that
+goodly town: A colored man and a fugitive slave happened to have a
+little quarrel, and the former was heard to threaten the latter with
+informing his master of his whereabouts. As soon as this threat became
+known, a notice was read from the desk of what was then the only
+colored church in the place, stating that business of importance was to
+be then and there transacted. Special measures had been taken to secure
+the attendance of the would-be Judas, and had proved successful.
+Accordingly, at the hour appointed, the people came, and the betrayer
+also. All the usual formalities of public meetings were scrupulously
+gone through, even to the offering prayer for Divine direction in the
+duties of the occasion. The president himself performed this part of
+the ceremony, and I was told that he was unusually fervent. Yet, at the
+close of his prayer, the old man (one of the numerous family of
+Johnsons) rose from his knees, deliberately surveyed his audience, and
+then said, in a tone of solemn resolution, _“Well, friends, we have got
+him here, and I would now recommend that you young men should just take
+him outside the door and kill him.”_ With this, a large body of the
+congregation, who well understood the business they had come there to
+transact, made a rush at the villain, and doubtless would have killed
+him, had he not availed himself of an open sash, and made good his
+escape. He has never shown his head in New Bedford since that time.
+This little incident is perfectly characteristic of the spirit of the
+colored people in New Bedford. A slave could not be taken from that
+town seventeen years ago, any more than he could be so taken away now.
+The reason is, that the colored people in that city are educated up to
+the point of fighting for their freedom, as well as speaking for it.
+
+Once assured of my safety in New Bedford, I put on the habiliments of a
+common laborer, and went on the wharf in search of work. I had no
+notion of living on the honest and generous sympathy of my colored
+brother, Johnson, or that of the abolitionists. My cry was like that of
+Hood’s laborer, “Oh! only give me work.” Happily for me, I was not long
+in searching. I found employment, the third day after my arrival in New
+Bedford, in stowing a sloop with a load of oil for the New York market.
+It was new, hard, and dirty work, even for a calker, but I went at it
+with a glad heart and a willing hand. I was now my own master—a
+tremendous fact—and the rapturous excitement with which I seized the
+job, may not easily be understood, except by some one with an
+experience like mine. The thoughts—“I can work! I can work for a
+living; I am not afraid of work; I have no Master Hugh to rob me of my
+earnings”—placed me in a state of independence, beyond seeking
+friendship or support of any man. That day’s work I considered the real
+starting point of something like a new existence. Having finished this
+job and got my pay for the same, I went next in pursuit of a job at
+calking. It so happened that Mr. Rodney French, late mayor of the city
+of New Bedford, had a ship fitting out for sea, and to which there was
+a large job of calking and coppering to be done. I applied to that
+noblehearted man for employment, and he promptly told me to go to work;
+but going on the float-stage for the purpose, I was informed that every
+white man would leave the ship if I struck a blow upon her. “Well,
+well,” thought I, “this is a hardship, but yet not a very serious one
+for me.” The difference between the wages of a calker and that of a
+common day laborer, was an hundred per cent in favor of the former; but
+then I was free, and free to work, though not at my trade. I now
+prepared myself to do anything which came to hand in the way of turning
+an honest penny; sawed wood—dug cellars—shoveled coal—swept chimneys
+with Uncle Lucas Debuty—rolled oil casks on the wharves—helped to load
+and unload vessels—worked in Ricketson’s candle works—in Richmond’s
+brass foundery, and elsewhere; and thus supported myself and family for
+three years.
+
+The first winter was unusually severe, in consequence of the high
+prices of food; but even during that winter we probably suffered less
+than many who had been free all their lives. During the hardest of the
+winter, I hired out for nine dolars(sic) a month; and out of this
+rented two rooms for nine dollars per quarter, and supplied my wife—who
+was unable to work—with food and some necessary articles of furniture.
+We were closely pinched to bring our wants within our means; but the
+jail stood over the way, and I had a wholesome dread of the
+consequences of running in debt. This winter past, and I was up with
+the times—got plenty of work—got well paid for it—and felt that I had
+not done a foolish thing to leave Master Hugh and Master Thomas. I was
+now living in a new world, and was wide awake to its advantages. I
+early began to attend the meetings of the colored people of New
+Bedford, and to take part in them. I was somewhat amazed to see colored
+men drawing up resolutions and offering them for consideration. Several
+colored young men of New Bedford, at that period, gave promise of great
+usefulness. They were educated, and possessed what seemed to me, at the
+time, very superior talents. Some of them have been cut down by death,
+and others have removed to different parts of the world, and some
+remain there now, and justify, in their present activities, my early
+impressions of them.
+
+Among my first concerns on reaching New Bedford, was to become united
+with the church, for I had never given up, in reality, my religious
+faith. I had become lukewarm and in a backslidden state, but I was
+still convinced that it was my duty to join the Methodist church. I was
+not then aware of the powerful influence of that religious body in
+favor of the enslavement of my race, nor did I see how the northern
+churches could be responsible for the conduct of southern churches;
+neither did I fully understand how it could be my duty to remain
+separate from the church, because bad men were connected with it. The
+slaveholding church, with its Coveys, Weedens, Aulds, and Hopkins, I
+could see through at once, but I could not see how Elm Street church,
+in New Bedford, could be regarded as sanctioning the Christianity of
+these characters in the church at St. Michael’s. I therefore resolved
+to join the Methodist church in New Bedford, and to enjoy the spiritual
+advantage of public worship. The minister of the Elm Street Methodist
+church, was the Rev. Mr. Bonney; and although I was not allowed a seat
+in the body of the house, and was proscribed on account of my color,
+regarding this proscription simply as an accommodation of the
+uncoverted congregation who had not yet been won to Christ and his
+brotherhood, I was willing thus to be proscribed, lest sinners should
+be driven away form the saving power of the gospel. Once converted, I
+thought they would be sure to treat me as a man and a brother.
+“Surely,” thought I, “these Christian people have none of this feeling
+against color. They, at least, have renounced this unholy feeling.”
+Judge, then, dear reader, of my astonishment and mortification, when I
+found, as soon I did find, all my charitable assumptions at fault.
+
+An opportunity was soon afforded me for ascertaining the exact position
+of Elm Street church on that subject. I had a chance of seeing the
+religious part of the congregation by themselves; and although they
+disowned, in effect, their black brothers and sisters, before the
+world, I did think that where none but the saints were assembled, and
+no offense could be given to the wicked, and the gospel could not be
+“blamed,” they would certainly recognize us as children of the same
+Father, and heirs of the same salvation, on equal terms with
+themselves.
+
+The occasion to which I refer, was the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper,
+that most sacred and most solemn of all the ordinances of the Christian
+church. Mr. Bonney had preached a very solemn and searching discourse,
+which really proved him to be acquainted with the inmost secerts(sic)
+of the human heart. At the close of his discourse, the congregation was
+dismissed, and the church remained to partake of the sacrament. I
+remained to see, as I thought, this holy sacrament celebrated in the
+spirit of its great Founder.
+
+There were only about a half dozen colored members attached to the Elm
+Street church, at this time. After the congregation was dismissed,
+these descended from the gallery, and took a seat against the wall most
+distant from the altar. Brother Bonney was very animated, and sung very
+sweetly, “Salvation ‘tis a joyful sound,” and soon began to administer
+the sacrament. I was anxious to observe the bearing of the colored
+members, and the result was most humiliating. During the whole
+ceremony, they looked like sheep without a shepherd. The white members
+went forward to the altar by the bench full; and when it was evident
+that all the whites had been served with the bread and wine, Brother
+Bonney—pious Brother Bonney—after a long pause, as if inquiring whether
+all the whites members had been served, and fully assuring himself on
+that important point, then raised his voice to an unnatural pitch, and
+looking to the corner where his black sheep seemed penned, beckoned
+with his hand, exclaiming, “Come forward, colored friends! come
+forward! You, too, have an interest in the blood of Christ. God is no
+respecter of persons. Come forward, and take this holy sacrament to
+your comfort.” The colored members poor, slavish souls went forward, as
+invited. I went out, and have never been in that church since, although
+I honestly went there with a view to joining that body. I found it
+impossible to respect the religious profession of any who were under
+the dominion of this wicked prejudice, and I could not, therefore, feel
+that in joining them, I was joining a Christian church, at all. I tried
+other churches in New Bedford, with the same result, and finally, I
+attached myself to a small body of colored Methodists, known as the
+Zion Methodists. Favored with the affection and confidence of the
+members of this humble communion, I was soon made a classleader and a
+local preacher among them. Many seasons of peace and joy I experienced
+among them, the remembrance of which is still precious, although I
+could not see it to be my duty to remain with that body, when I found
+that it consented to the same spirit which held my brethren in chains.
+
+In four or five months after reaching New Bedford, there came a young
+man to me, with a copy of the _Liberator_, the paper edited by WILLIAM
+LLOYD GARRISON, and published by ISAAC KNAPP, and asked me to subscribe
+for it. I told him I had but just escaped from slavery, and was of
+course very poor, and remarked further, that I was unable to pay for it
+then; the agent, however, very willingly took me as a subscriber, and
+appeared to be much pleased with securing my name to his list. From
+this time I was brought in contact with the mind of William Lloyd
+Garrison. His paper took its place with me next to the bible.
+
+The _Liberator_ was a paper after my own heart. It detested slavery
+exposed hypocrisy and wickedness in high places—made no truce with the
+traffickers in the bodies and souls of men; it preached human
+brotherhood, denounced oppression, and, with all the solemnity of God’s
+word, demanded the complete emancipation of my race. I not only liked—I
+_loved_ this paper, and its editor. He seemed a match for all the
+oponents(sic) of emancipation, whether they spoke in the name of the
+law, or the gospel. His words were few, full of holy fire, and straight
+to the point. Learning to love him, through his paper, I was prepared
+to be pleased with his presence. Something of a hero worshiper, by
+nature, here was one, on first sight, to excite my love and reverence.
+
+Seventeen years ago, few men possessed a more heavenly countenance than
+William Lloyd Garrison, and few men evinced a more genuine or a more
+exalted piety. The bible was his text book—held sacred, as the word of
+the Eternal Father—sinless perfection—complete submission to insults
+and injuries—literal obedience to the injunction, if smitten on one
+side to turn the other also. Not only was Sunday a Sabbath, but all
+days were Sabbaths, and to be kept holy. All sectarism false and
+mischievous—the regenerated, throughout the world, members of one body,
+and the HEAD Christ Jesus. Prejudice against color was rebellion
+against God. Of all men beneath the sky, the slaves, because most
+neglected and despised, were nearest and dearest to his great heart.
+Those ministers who defended slavery from the bible, were of their
+“father the devil”; and those churches which fellowshiped slaveholders
+as Christians, were synagogues of Satan, and our nation was a nation of
+liars. Never loud or noisy—calm and serene as a summer sky, and as
+pure. “You are the man, the Moses, raised up by God, to deliver his
+modern Israel from bondage,” was the spontaneous feeling of my heart,
+as I sat away back in the hall and listened to his mighty words; mighty
+in truth—mighty in their simple earnestness.
+
+I had not long been a reader of the _Liberator_, and listener to its
+editor, before I got a clear apprehension of the principles of the
+anti-slavery movement. I had already the spirit of the movement, and
+only needed to understand its principles and measures. These I got from
+the _Liberator_, and from those who believed in that paper. My
+acquaintance with the movement increased my hope for the ultimate
+freedom of my race, and I united with it from a sense of delight, as
+well as duty.
+
+Every week the _Liberator_ came, and every week I made myself master of
+its contents. All the anti-slavery meetings held in New Bedford I
+promptly attended, my heart burning at every true utterance against the
+slave system, and every rebuke of its friends and supporters. Thus
+passed the first three years of my residence in New Bedford. I had not
+then dreamed of the posibility(sic) of my becoming a public advocate of
+the cause so deeply imbedded in my heart. It was enough for me to
+listen—to receive and applaud the great words of others, and only
+whisper in private, among the white laborers on the wharves, and
+elsewhere, the truths which burned in my breast.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. _Introduced to the Abolitionists_
+
+
+FIRST SPEECH AT NANTUCKET—MUCH SENSATION—EXTRAORDINARY SPEECH OF MR.
+GARRISON—AUTHOR BECOMES A PUBLIC LECTURER—FOURTEEN YEARS
+EXPERIENCE—YOUTHFUL ENTHUSIASM—A BRAND NEW FACT—MATTER OF MY AUTHOR’S
+SPEECH—COULD NOT FOLLOW THE PROGRAMME—FUGITIVE SLAVESHIP DOUBTED—TO
+SETTLE ALL DOUBT I WRITE MY EXPERIENCE OF SLAVERY—DANGER OF RECAPTURE
+INCREASED.
+
+
+In the summer of 1841, a grand anti-slavery convention was held in
+Nantucket, under the auspices of Mr. Garrison and his friends. Until
+now, I had taken no holiday since my escape from slavery. Having worked
+very hard that spring and summer, in Richmond’s brass
+foundery—sometimes working all night as well as all day—and needing a
+day or two of rest, I attended this convention, never supposing that I
+should take part in the proceedings. Indeed, I was not aware that any
+one connected with the convention even so much as knew my name. I was,
+however, quite mistaken. Mr. William C. Coffin, a prominent
+abolitionst(sic) in those days of trial, had heard me speaking to my
+colored friends, in the little school house on Second street, New
+Bedford, where we worshiped. He sought me out in the crowd, and invited
+me to say a few words to the convention. Thus sought out, and thus
+invited, I was induced to speak out the feelings inspired by the
+occasion, and the fresh recollection of the scenes through which I had
+passed as a slave. My speech on this occasion is about the only one I
+ever made, of which I do not remember a single connected sentence. It
+was with the utmost difficulty that I could stand erect, or that I
+could command and articulate two words without hesitation and
+stammering. I trembled in every limb. I am not sure that my
+embarrassment was not the most effective part of my speech, if speech
+it could be called. At any rate, this is about the only part of my
+performance that I now distinctly remember. But excited and convulsed
+as I was, the audience, though remarkably quiet before, became as much
+excited as myself. Mr. Garrison followed me, taking me as his text; and
+now, whether I had made an eloquent speech in behalf of freedom or not,
+his was one never to be forgotten by those who heard it. Those who had
+heard Mr. Garrison oftenest, and had known him longest, were
+astonished. It was an effort of unequaled power, sweeping down, like a
+very tornado, every opposing barrier, whether of sentiment or opinion.
+For a moment, he possessed that almost fabulous inspiration, often
+referred to but seldom attained, in which a public meeting is
+transformed, as it were, into a single individuality—the orator
+wielding a thousand heads and hearts at once, and by the simple majesty
+of his all controlling thought, converting his hearers into the express
+image of his own soul. That night there were at least one thousand
+Garrisonians in Nantucket! A(sic) the close of this great meeting, I
+was duly waited on by Mr. John A. Collins—then the general agent of the
+Massachusetts anti-slavery society—and urgently solicited by him to
+become an agent of that society, and to publicly advocate its
+anti-slavery principles. I was reluctant to take the proffered
+position. I had not been quite three years from slavery—was honestly
+distrustful of my ability—wished to be excused; publicity exposed me to
+discovery and arrest by my master; and other objections came up, but
+Mr. Collins was not to be put off, and I finally consented to go out
+for three months, for I supposed that I should have got to the end of
+my story and my usefulness, in that length of time.
+
+Here opened upon me a new life a life for which I had had no
+preparation. I was a “graduate from the peculiar institution,” Mr.
+Collins used to say, when introducing me, _“with my diploma written on
+my back!”_ The three years of my freedom had been spent in the hard
+school of adversity. My hands had been furnished by nature with
+something like a solid leather coating, and I had bravely marked out
+for myself a life of rough labor, suited to the hardness of my hands,
+as a means of supporting myself and rearing my children.
+
+Now what shall I say of this fourteen years’ experience as a public
+advocate of the cause of my enslaved brothers and sisters? The time is
+but as a speck, yet large enough to justify a pause for
+retrospection—and a pause it must only be.
+
+Young, ardent, and hopeful, I entered upon this new life in the full
+gush of unsuspecting enthusiasm. The cause was good; the men engaged in
+it were good; the means to attain its triumph, good; Heaven’s blessing
+must attend all, and freedom must soon be given to the pining millions
+under a ruthless bondage. My whole heart went with the holy cause, and
+my most fervent prayer to the Almighty Disposer of the hearts of men,
+were continually offered for its early triumph. “Who or what,” thought
+I, “can withstand a cause so good, so holy, so indescribably glorious.
+The God of Israel is with us. The might of the Eternal is on our side.
+Now let but the truth be spoken, and a nation will start forth at the
+sound!” In this enthusiastic spirit, I dropped into the ranks of
+freedom’s friends, and went forth to the battle. For a time I was made
+to forget that my skin was dark and my hair crisped. For a time I
+regretted that I could not have shared the hardships and dangers
+endured by the earlier workers for the slave’s release. I soon,
+however, found that my enthusiasm had been extravagant; that hardships
+and dangers were not yet passed; and that the life now before me, had
+shadows as well as sunbeams.
+
+Among the first duties assigned me, on entering the ranks, was to
+travel, in company with Mr. George Foster, to secure subscribers to the
+_Anti-slavery Standard_ and the _Liberator_. With him I traveled and
+lectured through the eastern counties of Massachusetts. Much interest
+was awakened—large meetings assembled. Many came, no doubt, from
+curiosity to hear what a Negro could say in his own cause. I was
+generally introduced as a _“chattel”—_a_“thing”_—a piece of southern
+_“property”_—the chairman assuring the audience that _it_ could speak.
+Fugitive slaves, at that time, were not so plentiful as now; and as a
+fugitive slave lecturer, I had the advantage of being a _“brand new
+fact”_—the first one out. Up to that time, a colored man was deemed a
+fool who confessed himself a runaway slave, not only because of the
+danger to which he exposed himself of being retaken, but because it was
+a confession of a very _low_ origin! Some of my colored friends in New
+Bedford thought very badly of my wisdom for thus exposing and degrading
+myself. The only precaution I took, at the beginning, to prevent Master
+Thomas from knowing where I was, and what I was about, was the
+withholding my former name, my master’s name, and the name of the state
+and county from which I came. During the first three or four months, my
+speeches were almost exclusively made up of narrations of my own
+personal experience as a slave. “Let us have the facts,” said the
+people. So also said Friend George Foster, who always wished to pin me
+down to my simple narrative. “Give us the facts,” said Collins, “we
+will take care of the philosophy.” Just here arose some embarrassment.
+It was impossible for me to repeat the same old story month after
+month, and to keep up my interest in it. It was new to the people, it
+is true, but it was an old story to me; and to go through with it night
+after night, was a task altogether too mechanical for my nature. “Tell
+your story, Frederick,” would whisper my then revered friend, William
+Lloyd Garrison, as I stepped upon the platform. I could not always
+obey, for I was now reading and thinking. New views of the subject were
+presented to my mind. It did not entirely satisfy me to _narrate_
+wrongs; I felt like _denouncing_ them. I could not always curb my moral
+indignation for the perpetrators of slaveholding villainy, long enough
+for a circumstantial statement of the facts which I felt almost
+everybody must know. Besides, I was growing, and needed room. “People
+won’t believe you ever was a slave, Frederick, if you keep on this
+way,” said Friend Foster. “Be yourself,” said Collins, “and tell your
+story.” It was said to me, “Better have a _little_ of the plantation
+manner of speech than not; ‘tis not best that you seem too learned.”
+These excellent friends were actuated by the best of motives, and were
+not altogether wrong in their advice; and still I must speak just the
+word that seemed to _me_ the word to be spoken _by_ me.
+
+At last the apprehended trouble came. People doubted if I had ever been
+a slave. They said I did not talk like a slave, look like a slave, nor
+act like a slave, and that they believed I had never been south of
+Mason and Dixon’s line. “He don’t tell us where he came from—what his
+master’s name was—how he got away—nor the story of his experience.
+Besides, he is educated, and is, in this, a contradiction of all the
+facts we have concerning the ignorance of the slaves.” Thus, I was in a
+pretty fair way to be denounced as an impostor. The committee of the
+Massachusetts anti-slavery society knew all the facts in my case, and
+agreed with me in the prudence of keeping them private. They,
+therefore, never doubted my being a genuine fugitive; but going down
+the aisles of the churches in which I spoke, and hearing the free
+spoken Yankees saying, repeatedly, _“He’s never been a slave, I’ll
+warrant ye_,” I resolved to dispel all doubt, at no distant day, by
+such a revelation of facts as could not be made by any other than a
+genuine fugitive.
+
+In a little less than four years, therefore, after becoming a public
+lecturer, I was induced to write out the leading facts connected with
+my experience in slavery, giving names of persons, places, and
+dates—thus putting it in the power of any who doubted, to ascertain the
+truth or falsehood of my story of being a fugitive slave. This
+statement soon became known in Maryland, and I had reason to believe
+that an effort would be made to recapture me.
+
+It is not probable that any open attempt to secure me as a slave could
+have succeeded, further than the obtainment, by my master, of the money
+value of my bones and sinews. Fortunately for me, in the four years of
+my labors in the abolition cause, I had gained many friends, who would
+have suffered themselves to be taxed to almost any extent to save me
+from slavery. It was felt that I had committed the double offense of
+running away, and exposing the secrets and crimes of slavery and
+slaveholders. There was a double motive for seeking my
+reenslavement—avarice and vengeance; and while, as I have said, there
+was little probability of successful recapture, if attempted openly, I
+was constantly in danger of being spirited away, at a moment when my
+friends could render me no assistance. In traveling about from place to
+place—often alone I was much exposed to this sort of attack. Any one
+cherishing the design to betray me, could easily do so, by simply
+tracing my whereabouts through the anti-slavery journals, for my
+meetings and movements were promptly made known in advance. My true
+friends, Mr. Garrison and Mr. Phillips, had no faith in the power of
+Massachusetts to protect me in my right to liberty. Public sentiment
+and the law, in their opinion, would hand me over to the tormentors.
+Mr. Phillips, especially, considered me in danger, and said, when I
+showed him the manuscript of my story, if in my place, he would throw
+it into the fire. Thus, the reader will observe, the settling of one
+difficulty only opened the way for another; and that though I had
+reached a free state, and had attained position for public usefulness,
+I ws(sic) still tormented with the liability of losing my liberty. How
+this liability was dispelled, will be related, with other incidents, in
+the next chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. _Twenty-One Months in Great Britain_
+
+
+GOOD ARISING OUT OF UNPROPITIOUS EVENTS—DENIED CABIN
+PASSAGE—PROSCRIPTION TURNED TO GOOD ACCOUNT—THE HUTCHINSON FAMILY—THE
+MOB ON BOARD THE “CAMBRIA”—HAPPY INTRODUCTION TO THE BRITISH
+PUBLIC—LETTER ADDRESSED TO WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON—TIME AND LABORS WHILE
+ABROAD—FREEDOM PURCHASED—MRS. HENRY RICHARDSON—FREE
+PAPERS—ABOLITIONISTS DISPLEASED WITH THE RANSOM—HOW MY ENERGIES WERE
+DIRECTED—RECEPTION SPEECH IN LONDON—CHARACTER OF THE SPEECH
+DEFENDED—CIRCUMSTANCES EXPLAINED—CAUSES CONTRIBUTING TO THE SUCCESS OF
+MY MISSION—FREE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND—TESTIMONIAL.
+
+
+The allotments of Providence, when coupled with trouble and anxiety,
+often conceal from finite vision the wisdom and goodness in which they
+are sent; and, frequently, what seemed a harsh and invidious
+dispensation, is converted by after experience into a happy and
+beneficial arrangement. Thus, the painful liability to be returned
+again to slavery, which haunted me by day, and troubled my dreams by
+night, proved to be a necessary step in the path of knowledge and
+usefulness. The writing of my pamphlet, in the spring of 1845,
+endangered my liberty, and led me to seek a refuge from republican
+slavery in monarchical England. A rude, uncultivated fugitive slave was
+driven, by stern necessity, to that country to which young American
+gentlemen go to increase their stock of knowledge, to seek pleasure, to
+have their rough, democratic manners softened by contact with English
+aristocratic refinement. On applying for a passage to England, on board
+the “Cambria”, of the Cunard line, my friend, James N. Buffum, of Lynn,
+Massachusetts, was informed that I could not be received on board as a
+cabin passenger. American prejudice against color triumphed over
+British liberality and civilization, and erected a color test and
+condition for crossing the sea in the cabin of a British vessel. The
+insult was keenly felt by my white friends, but to me, it was common,
+expected, and therefore, a thing of no great consequence, whether I
+went in the cabin or in the steerage. Moreover, I felt that if I could
+not go into the first cabin, first-cabin passengers could come into the
+second cabin, and the result justified my anticipations to the fullest
+extent. Indeed, I soon found myself an object of more general interest
+than I wished to be; and so far from being degraded by being placed in
+the second cabin, that part of the ship became the scene of as much
+pleasure and refinement, during the voyage, as the cabin itself. The
+Hutchinson Family, celebrated vocalists—fellow-passengers—often came to
+my rude forecastle deck, and sung their sweetest songs, enlivening the
+place with eloquent music, as well as spirited conversation, during the
+voyage. In two days after leaving Boston, one part of the ship was
+about as free to me as another. My fellow-passengers not only visited
+me, but invited me to visit them, on the saloon deck. My visits there,
+however, were but seldom. I preferred to live within my privileges, and
+keep upon my own premises. I found this quite as much in accordance
+with good policy, as with my own feelings. The effect was, that with
+the majority of the passengers, all color distinctions were flung to
+the winds, and I found myself treated with every mark of respect, from
+the beginning to the end of the voyage, except in a single instance;
+and in that, I came near being mobbed, for complying with an invitation
+given me by the passengers, and the captain of the “Cambria,” to
+deliver a lecture on slavery. Our New Orleans and Georgia passengers
+were pleased to regard my lecture as an insult offered to them, and
+swore I should not speak. They went so far as to threaten to throw me
+overboard, and but for the firmness of Captain Judkins, probably would
+have (under the inspiration of _slavery_ and _brandy_) attempted to put
+their threats into execution. I have no space to describe this scene,
+although its tragic and comic peculiarities are well worth describing.
+An end was put to the _melee_, by the captain’s calling the ship’s
+company to put the salt water mobocrats in irons. At this determined
+order, the gentlemen of the lash scampered, and for the rest of the
+voyage conducted themselves very decorously.
+
+This incident of the voyage, in two days after landing at Liverpool,
+brought me at once before the British public, and that by no act of my
+own. The gentlemen so promptly snubbed in their meditated violence,
+flew to the press to justify their conduct, and to denounce me as a
+worthless and insolent Negro. This course was even less wise than the
+conduct it was intended to sustain; for, besides awakening something
+like a national interest in me, and securing me an audience, it brought
+out counter statements, and threw the blame upon themselves, which they
+had sought to fasten upon me and the gallant captain of the ship.
+
+Some notion may be formed of the difference in my feelings and
+circumstances, while abroad, from the following extract from one of a
+series of letters addressed by me to Mr. Garrison, and published in the
+_Liberator_. It was written on the first day of January, 1846:
+
+MY DEAR FRIEND GARRISON: Up to this time, I have given no direct
+expression of the views, feelings, and opinions which I have formed,
+respecting the character and condition of the people of this land. I
+have refrained thus, purposely. I wish to speak advisedly, and in order
+to do this, I have waited till, I trust, experience has brought my
+opinions to an intelligent maturity. I have been thus careful, not
+because I think what I say will have much effect in shaping the
+opinions of the world, but because whatever of influence I may possess,
+whether little or much, I wish it to go in the right direction, and
+according to truth. I hardly need say that, in speaking of Ireland, I
+shall be influenced by no prejudices in favor of America. I think my
+circumstances all forbid that. I have no end to serve, no creed to
+uphold, no government to defend; and as to nation, I belong to none. I
+have no protection at home, or resting-place abroad. The land of my
+birth welcomes me to her shores only as a slave, and spurns with
+contempt the idea of treating me differently; so that I am an outcast
+from the society of my childhood, and an outlaw in the land of my
+birth. “I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers
+were.” That men should be patriotic, is to me perfectly natural; and as
+a philosophical fact, I am able to give it an _intellectual_
+recognition. But no further can I go. If ever I had any patriotism, or
+any capacity for the feeling, it was whipped out of me long since, by
+the lash of the American soul-drivers.
+
+In thinking of America, I sometimes find myself admiring her bright
+blue sky, her grand old woods, her fertile fields, her beautiful
+rivers, her mighty lakes, and star-crowned mountains. But my rapture is
+soon checked, my joy is soon turned to mourning. When I remember that
+all is cursed with the infernal spirit of slaveholding, robbery, and
+wrong; when I remember that with the waters of her noblest rivers, the
+tears of my brethren are borne to the ocean, disregarded and forgotten,
+and that her most fertile fields drink daily of the warm blood of my
+outraged sisters; I am filled with unutterable loathing, and led to
+reproach myself that anything could fall from my lips in praise of such
+a land. America will not allow her children to love her. She seems bent
+on compelling those who would be her warmest friends, to be her worst
+enemies. May God give her repentance, before it is too late, is the
+ardent prayer of my heart. I will continue to pray, labor, and wait,
+believing that she cannot always be insensible to the dictates of
+justice, or deaf to the voice of humanity.
+
+My opportunities for learning the character and condition of the people
+of this land have been very great. I have traveled almost from the Hill
+of Howth to the Giant’s Causeway, and from the Giant’s Causway, to Cape
+Clear. During these travels, I have met with much in the chara@@ and
+condition of the people to approve, and much to condemn; much that
+@@thrilled me with pleasure, and very much that has filled me with
+pain. I @@ @@t, in this letter, attempt to give any description of
+those scenes which have given me pain. This I will do hereafter. I have
+enough, and more than your subscribers will be disposed to read at one
+time, of the bright side of the picture. I can truly say, I have spent
+some of the happiest moments of my life since landing in this country.
+I seem to have undergone a transformation. I live a new life. The warm
+and generous cooperation extended to me by the friends of my despised
+race; the prompt and liberal manner with which the press has rendered
+me its aid; the glorious enthusiasm with which thousands have flocked
+to hear the cruel wrongs of my down-trodden and long-enslaved
+fellow-countrymen portrayed; the deep sympathy for the slave, and the
+strong abhorrence of the slaveholder, everywhere evinced; the
+cordiality with which members and ministers of various religious
+bodies, and of various shades of religious opinion, have embraced me,
+and lent me their aid; the kind of hospitality constantly proffered to
+me by persons of the highest rank in society; the spirit of freedom
+that seems to animate all with whom I come in contact, and the entire
+absence of everything that looked like prejudice against me, on account
+of the color of my skin—contrasted so strongly with my long and bitter
+experience in the United States, that I look with wonder and amazement
+on the transition. In the southern part of the United States, I was a
+slave, thought of and spoken of as property; in the language of the
+LAW, “_held, taken, reputed, and adjudged to be a chattel in the hands
+of my owners and possessors, and their executors, administrators, and
+assigns, to all intents, constructions, and purposes whatsoever_.”
+(Brev. Digest, 224). In the northern states, a fugitive slave, liable
+to be hunted at any moment, like a felon, and to be hurled into the
+terrible jaws of slavery—doomed by an inveterate prejudice against
+color to insult and outrage on every hand (Massachusetts out of the
+question)—denied the privileges and courtesies common to others in the
+use of the most humble means of conveyance—shut out from the cabins on
+steamboats—refused admission to respectable hotels—caricatured,
+scorned, scoffed, mocked, and maltreated with impunity by any one (no
+matter how black his heart), so he has a white skin. But now behold the
+change! Eleven days and a half gone, and I have crossed three thousand
+miles of the perilous deep. Instead of a democratic government, I am
+under a monarchical government. Instead of the bright, blue sky of
+America, I am covered with the soft, grey fog of the Emerald Isle. I
+breathe, and lo! the chattel becomes a man. I gaze around in vain for
+one who will question my equal humanity, claim me as his slave, or
+offer me an insult. I employ a cab—I am seated beside white people—I
+reach the hotel—I enter the same door—I am shown into the same parlor—I
+dine at the same table and no one is offended. No delicate nose grows
+deformed in my presence. I find no difficulty here in obtaining
+admission into any place of worship, instruction, or amusement, on
+equal terms with people as white as any I ever saw in the United
+States. I meet nothing to remind me of my complexion. I find myself
+regarded and treated at every turn with the kindness and deference paid
+to white people. When I go to church, I am met by no upturned nose and
+scornful lip to tell me, “_We don’t allow niggers in here_!”
+
+I remember, about two years ago, there was in Boston, near the
+south-west corner of Boston Common, a menagerie. I had long desired to
+see such a collection as I understood was being exhibited there. Never
+having had an opportunity while a slave, I resolved to seize this, my
+first, since my escape. I went, and as I approached the entrance to
+gain admission, I was met and told by the door-keeper, in a harsh and
+contemptuous tone, “_We don’t allow niggers in here_.” I also remember
+attending a revival meeting in the Rev. Henry Jackson’s meeting-house,
+at New Bedford, and going up the broad aisle to find a seat, I was met
+by a good deacon, who told me, in a pious tone, “_We don’t allow
+niggers in here_!” Soon after my arrival in New Bedford, from the
+south, I had a strong desire to attend the Lyceum, but was told, “_They
+don’t allow niggers in here_!” While passing from New York to Boston,
+on the steamer Massachusetts, on the night of the 9th of December,
+1843, when chilled almost through with the cold, I went into the cabin
+to get a little warm. I was soon touched upon the shoulder, and told,
+“_We don’t allow niggers in here_!” On arriving in Boston, from an
+anti-slavery tour, hungry and tired, I went into an eating-house, near
+my friend, Mr. Campbell’s to get some refreshments. I was met by a lad
+in a white apron, “_We don’t allow niggers in here_!” A week or two
+before leaving the United States, I had a meeting appointed at
+Weymouth, the home of that glorious band of true abolitionists, the
+Weston family, and others. On attempting to take a seat in the omnibus
+to that place, I was told by the driver (and I never shall forget his
+fiendish hate). “_I don’t allow niggers in here_!” Thank heaven for the
+respite I now enjoy! I had been in Dublin but a few days, when a
+gentleman of great respectability kindly offered to conduct me through
+all the public buildings of that beautiful city; and a little
+afterward, I found myself dining with the lord mayor of Dublin. What a
+pity there was not some American democratic Christian at the door of
+his splendid mansion, to bark out at my approach, “_They don’t allow
+niggers in here_!” The truth is, the people here know nothing of the
+republican Negro hate prevalent in our glorious land. They measure and
+esteem men according to their moral and intellectual worth, and not
+according to the color of their skin. Whatever may be said of the
+aristocracies here, there is none based on the color of a man’s skin.
+This species of aristocracy belongs preeminently to “the land of the
+free, and the home of the brave.” I have never found it abroad, in any
+but Americans. It sticks to them wherever they go. They find it almost
+as hard to get rid of, as to get rid of their skins.
+
+The second day after my arrival at Liverpool, in company with my
+friend, Buffum, and several other friends, I went to Eaton Hall, the
+residence of the Marquis of Westminster, one of the most splendid
+buildings in England. On approaching the door, I found several of our
+American passengers, who came out with us in the “Cambria,” waiting for
+admission, as but one party was allowed in the house at a time. We all
+had to wait till the company within came out. And of all the faces,
+expressive of chagrin, those of the Americans were preeminent. They
+looked as sour as vinegar, and as bitter as gall, when they found I was
+to be admitted on equal terms with themselves. When the door was
+opened, I walked in, on an equal footing with my white fellow-citizens,
+and from all I could see, I had as much attention paid me by the
+servants that showed us through the house, as any with a paler skin. As
+I walked through the building, the statuary did not fall down, the
+pictures did not leap from their places, the doors did not refuse to
+open, and the servants did not say, “_We don’t allow niggers in here_!”
+
+A happy new-year to you, and all the friends of freedom.
+
+My time and labors, while abroad were divided between England, Ireland,
+Scotland, and Wales. Upon this experience alone, I might write a book
+twice the size of this, _My Bondage and My Freedom_. I visited and
+lectured in nearly all the large towns and cities in the United
+Kingdom, and enjoyed many favorable opportunities for observation and
+information. But books on England are abundant, and the public may,
+therefore, dismiss any fear that I am meditating another infliction in
+that line; though, in truth, I should like much to write a book on
+those countries, if for nothing else, to make grateful mention of the
+many dear friends, whose benevolent actions toward me are ineffaceably
+stamped upon my memory, and warmly treasured in my heart. To these
+friends I owe my freedom in the United States. On their own motion,
+without any solicitation from me (Mrs. Henry Richardson, a clever lady,
+remarkable for her devotion to every good work, taking the lead), they
+raised a fund sufficient to purchase my freedom, and actually paid it
+over, and placed the papers 8 of my manumission in my hands, before
+they would tolerate the idea of my returning to this, my native
+country. To this commercial transaction I owe my exemption from the
+democratic operation of the Fugitive Slave Bill of 1850. But for this,
+I might at any time become a victim of this most cruel and scandalous
+enactment, and be doomed to end my life, as I began it, a slave. The
+sum paid for my freedom was one hundred and fifty pounds sterling.
+
+Some of my uncompromising anti-slavery friends in this country failed
+to see the wisdom of this arrangement, and were not pleased that I
+consented to it, even by my silence. They thought it a violation of
+anti-slavery principles—conceding a right of property in man—and a
+wasteful expenditure of money. On the other hand, viewing it simply in
+the light of a ransom, or as money extorted by a robber, and my liberty
+of more value than one hundred and fifty pounds sterling, I could not
+see either a violation of the laws of morality, or those of economy, in
+the transaction.
+
+It is true, I was not in the possession of my claimants, and could have
+easily remained in England, for the same friends who had so generously
+purchased my freedom, would have assisted me in establishing myself in
+that country. To this, however, I could not consent. I felt that I had
+a duty to perform—and that was, to labor and suffer with the oppressed
+in my native land. Considering, therefore, all the circumstances—the
+fugitive slave bill included—I think the very best thing was done in
+letting Master Hugh have the hundred and fifty pounds sterling, and
+leaving me free to return to my appropriate field of labor. Had I been
+a private person, having no other relations or duties than those of a
+personal and family nature, I should never have consented to the
+payment of so large a sum for the privilege of living securely under
+our glorious republican form of government. I could have remained in
+England, or have gone to some other country; and perhaps I could even
+have lived unobserved in this. But to this I could not consent. I had
+already become somewhat notorious, and withal quite as unpopular as
+notorious; and I was, therefore, much exposed to arrest and recapture.
+
+The main object to which my labors in Great Britain were directed, was
+the concentration of the moral and religious sentiment of its people
+against American slavery. England is often charged with having
+established slavery in the United States, and if there were no other
+justification than this, for appealing to her people to lend their
+moral aid for the abolition of slavery, I should be justified. My
+speeches in Great Britain were wholly extemporaneous, and I may not
+always have been so guarded in my expressions, as I otherwise should
+have been. I was ten years younger then than now, and only seven years
+from slavery. I cannot give the reader a better idea of the nature of
+my discourses, than by republishing one of them, delivered in Finsbury
+chapel, London, to an audience of about two thousand persons, and which
+was published in the _London Universe_, at the time. 9
+
+Those in the United States who may regard this speech as being harsh in
+its spirit and unjust in its statements, because delivered before an
+audience supposed to be anti-republican in their principles and
+feelings, may view the matter differently, when they learn that the
+case supposed did not exist. It so happened that the great mass of the
+people in England who attended and patronized my anti-slavery meetings,
+were, in truth, about as good republicans as the mass of Americans, and
+with this decided advantage over the latter—they are lovers of
+republicanism for all men, for black men as well as for white men. They
+are the people who sympathize with Louis Kossuth and Mazzini, and with
+the oppressed and enslaved, of every color and nation, the world over.
+They constitute the democratic element in British politics, and are as
+much opposed to the union of church and state as we, in America, are to
+such an union. At the meeting where this speech was delivered, Joseph
+Sturge—a world-wide philanthropist, and a member of the society of
+Friends—presided, and addressed the meeting. George William Alexander,
+another Friend, who has spent more than an Ameriacn(sic) fortune in
+promoting the anti-slavery cause in different sections of the world,
+was on the platform; and also Dr. Campbell (now of the _British
+Banner_) who combines all the humane tenderness of Melanchthon, with
+the directness and boldness of Luther. He is in the very front ranks of
+non-conformists, and looks with no unfriendly eye upon America. George
+Thompson, too, was there; and America will yet own that he did a true
+man’s work in relighting the rapidly dying-out fire of true
+republicanism in the American heart, and be ashamed of the treatment he
+met at her hands. Coming generations in this country will applaud the
+spirit of this much abused republican friend of freedom. There were
+others of note seated on the platform, who would gladly ingraft upon
+English institutions all that is purely republican in the institutions
+of America. Nothing, therefore, must be set down against this speech on
+the score that it was delivered in the presence of those who cannot
+appreciate the many excellent things belonging to our system of
+government, and with a view to stir up prejudice against republican
+institutions.
+
+Again, let it also be remembered—for it is the simple truth—that
+neither in this speech, nor in any other which I delivered in England,
+did I ever allow myself to address Englishmen as against Americans. I
+took my stand on the high ground of human brotherhood, and spoke to
+Englishmen as men, in behalf of men. Slavery is a crime, not against
+Englishmen, but against God, and all the members of the human family;
+and it belongs to the whole human family to seek its suppression. In a
+letter to Mr. Greeley, of the New York Tribune, written while abroad, I
+said:
+
+I am, nevertheless aware that the wisdom of exposing the sins of one
+nation in the ear of another, has been seriously questioned by good and
+clear-sighted people, both on this and on your side of the Atlantic.
+And the thought is not without weight on my own mind. I am satisfied
+that there are many evils which can be best removed by confining our
+efforts to the immediate locality where such evils exist. This,
+however, is by no means the case with the system of slavery. It is such
+a giant sin—such a monstrous aggregation of iniquity—so hardening to
+the human heart—so destructive to the moral sense, and so well
+calculated to beget a character, in every one around it, favorable to
+its own continuance,—that I feel not only at liberty, but abundantly
+justified, in appealing to the whole world to aid in its removal.
+
+But, even if I had—as has been often charged—labored to bring American
+institutions generally into disrepute, and had not confined my labors
+strictly within the limits of humanity and morality, I should not have
+been without illustrious examples to support me. Driven into semi-exile
+by civil and barbarous laws, and by a system which cannot be thought of
+without a shudder, I was fully justified in turning, if possible, the
+tide of the moral universe against the heaven-daring outrage.
+
+Four circumstances greatly assisted me in getting the question of
+American slavery before the British public. First, the mob on board the
+“Cambria,” already referred to, which was a sort of national
+announcement of my arrival in England. Secondly, the highly
+reprehensible course pursued by the Free Church of Scotland, in
+soliciting, receiving, and retaining money in its sustentation fund for
+supporting the gospel in Scotland, which was evidently the ill-gotten
+gain of slaveholders and slave-traders. Third, the great Evangelical
+Alliance—or rather the attempt to form such an alliance, which should
+include slaveholders of a certain description—added immensely to the
+interest felt in the slavery question. About the same time, there was
+the World’s Temperance Convention, where I had the misfortune to come
+in collision with sundry American doctors of divinity—Dr. Cox among the
+number—with whom I had a small controversy.
+
+It has happened to me—as it has happened to most other men engaged in a
+good cause—often to be more indebted to my enemies than to my own skill
+or to the assistance of my friends, for whatever success has attended
+my labors. Great surprise was expressed by American newspapers, north
+and south, during my stay in Great Britain, that a person so illiterate
+and insignificant as myself could awaken an interest so marked in
+England. These papers were not the only parties surprised. I was myself
+not far behind them in surprise. But the very contempt and scorn, the
+systematic and extravagant disparagement of which I was the object,
+served, perhaps, to magnify my few merits, and to render me of some
+account, whether deserving or not. A man is sometimes made great, by
+the greatness of the abuse a portion of mankind may think proper to
+heap upon him. Whether I was of as much consequence as the English
+papers made me out to be, or not, it was easily seen, in England, that
+I could not be the ignorant and worthless creature, some of the
+American papers would have them believe I was. Men, in their senses, do
+not take bowie-knives to kill mosquitoes, nor pistols to shoot flies;
+and the American passengers who thought proper to get up a mob to
+silence me, on board the “Cambria,” took the most effective method of
+telling the British public that I had something to say.
+
+But to the second circumstance, namely, the position of the Free Church
+of Scotland, with the great Doctors Chalmers, Cunningham, and Candlish
+at its head. That church, with its leaders, put it out of the power of
+the Scotch people to ask the old question, which we in the north have
+often most wickedly asked—“_What have we to do with slavery_?” That
+church had taken the price of blood into its treasury, with which to
+build _free_ churches, and to pay _free_ church ministers for preaching
+the gospel; and, worse still, when honest John Murray, of Bowlien
+Bay—now gone to his reward in heaven—with William Smeal, Andrew Paton,
+Frederick Card, and other sterling anti-slavery men in Glasgow,
+denounced the transaction as disgraceful and shocking to the religious
+sentiment of Scotland, this church, through its leading divines,
+instead of repenting and seeking to mend the mistake into which it had
+fallen, made it a flagrant sin, by undertaking to defend, in the name
+of God and the bible, the principle not only of taking the money of
+slave-dealers to build churches, but of holding fellowship with the
+holders and traffickers in human flesh. This, the reader will see,
+brought up the whole question of slavery, and opened the way to its
+full discussion, without any agency of mine. I have never seen a people
+more deeply moved than were the people of Scotland, on this very
+question. Public meeting succeeded public meeting. Speech after speech,
+pamphlet after pamphlet, editorial after editorial, sermon after
+sermon, soon lashed the conscientious Scotch people into a perfect
+_furore_. “SEND BACK THE MONEY!” was indignantly cried out, from
+Greenock to Edinburgh, and from Edinburgh to Aberdeen. George Thompson,
+of London, Henry C. Wright, of the United States, James N. Buffum, of
+Lynn, Massachusetts, and myself were on the anti-slavery side; and
+Doctors Chalmers, Cunningham, and Candlish on the other. In a conflict
+where the latter could have had even the show of right, the truth, in
+our hands as against them, must have been driven to the wall; and while
+I believe we were able to carry the conscience of the country against
+the action of the Free Church, the battle, it must be confessed, was a
+hard-fought one. Abler defenders of the doctrine of fellowshiping
+slaveholders as christians, have not been met with. In defending this
+doctrine, it was necessary to deny that slavery is a sin. If driven
+from this position, they were compelled to deny that slaveholders were
+responsible for the sin; and if driven from both these positions, they
+must deny that it is a sin in such a sense, and that slaveholders are
+sinners in such a sense, as to make it wrong, in the circumstances in
+which they were placed, to recognize them as Christians. Dr. Cunningham
+was the most powerful debater on the slavery side of the question; Mr.
+Thompson was the ablest on the anti-slavery side. A scene occurred
+between these two men, a parallel to which I think I never witnessed
+before, and I know I never have since. The scene was caused by a single
+exclamation on the part of Mr. Thompson.
+
+The general assembly of the Free Church was in progress at Cannon
+Mills, Edinburgh. The building would hold about twenty-five hundred
+persons; and on this occasion it was densely packed, notice having been
+given that Doctors Cunningham and Candlish would speak, that day, in
+defense of the relations of the Free Church of Scotland to slavery in
+America. Messrs. Thompson, Buffum, myself, and a few anti-slavery
+friends, attended, but sat at such a distance, and in such a position,
+that, perhaps we were not observed from the platform. The excitement
+was intense, having been greatly increased by a series of meetings held
+by Messrs. Thompson, Wright, Buffum, and myself, in the most splendid
+hall in that most beautiful city, just previous to the meetings of the
+general assembly. “SEND BACK THE MONEY!” stared at us from every street
+corner; “SEND BACK THE MONEY!” in large capitals, adorned the broad
+flags of the pavement; “SEND BACK THE MONEY!” was the chorus of the
+popular street songs; “SEND BACK THE MONEY!” was the heading of leading
+editorials in the daily newspapers. This day, at Cannon Mills, the
+great doctors of the church were to give an answer to this loud and
+stern demand. Men of all parties and all sects were most eager to hear.
+Something great was expected. The occasion was great, the men great,
+and great speeches were expected from them.
+
+In addition to the outside pressure upon Doctors Cunningham and
+Candlish, there was wavering in their own ranks. The conscience of the
+church itself was not at ease. A dissatisfaction with the position of
+the church touching slavery, was sensibly manifest among the members,
+and something must be done to counteract this untoward influence. The
+great Dr. Chalmers was in feeble health, at the time. His most potent
+eloquence could not now be summoned to Cannon Mills, as formerly. He
+whose voice was able to rend asunder and dash down the granite walls of
+the established church of Scotland, and to lead a host in solemn
+procession from it, as from a doomed city, was now old and enfeebled.
+Besides, he had said his word on this very question; and his word had
+not silenced the clamor without, nor stilled the anxious heavings
+within. The occasion was momentous, and felt to be so. The church was
+in a perilous condition. A change of some sort must take place in her
+condition, or she must go to pieces. To stand where she did, was
+impossible. The whole weight of the matter fell on Cunningham and
+Candlish. No shoulders in the church were broader than theirs; and I
+must say, badly as I detest the principles laid down and defended by
+them, I was compelled to acknowledge the vast mental endowments of the
+men. Cunningham rose; and his rising was the signal for almost
+tumultous applause. You will say this was scarcely in keeping with the
+solemnity of the occasion, but to me it served to increase its grandeur
+and gravity. The applause, though tumultuous, was not joyous. It seemed
+to me, as it thundered up from the vast audience, like the fall of an
+immense shaft, flung from shoulders already galled by its crushing
+weight. It was like saying, “Doctor, we have borne this burden long
+enough, and willingly fling it upon you. Since it was you who brought
+it upon us, take it now, and do what you will with it, for we are too
+weary to bear it. [“no close”].
+
+Doctor Cunningham proceeded with his speech, abounding in logic,
+learning, and eloquence, and apparently bearing down all opposition;
+but at the moment—the fatal moment—when he was just bringing all his
+arguments to a point, and that point being, that neither Jesus Christ
+nor his holy apostles regarded slaveholding as a sin, George Thompson,
+in a clear, sonorous, but rebuking voice, broke the deep stillness of
+the audience, exclaiming, HEAR! HEAR! HEAR! The effect of this simple
+and common exclamation is almost incredible. It was as if a granite
+wall had been suddenly flung up against the advancing current of a
+mighty river. For a moment, speaker and audience were brought to a dead
+silence. Both the doctor and his hearers seemed appalled by the
+audacity, as well as the fitness of the rebuke. At length a shout went
+up to the cry of “_Put him out_!” Happily, no one attempted to execute
+this cowardly order, and the doctor proceeded with his discourse. Not,
+however, as before, did the learned doctor proceed. The exclamation of
+Thompson must have reechoed itself a thousand times in his memory,
+during the remainder of his speech, for the doctor never recovered from
+the blow.
+
+The deed was done, however; the pillars of the church—_the proud, Free
+Church of Scotland_—were committed and the humility of repentance was
+absent. The Free Church held on to the blood-stained money, and
+continued to justify itself in its position—and of course to apologize
+for slavery—and does so till this day. She lost a glorious opportunity
+for giving her voice, her vote, and her example to the cause of
+humanity; and to-day she is staggering under the curse of the enslaved,
+whose blood is in her skirts. The people of Scotland are, to this day,
+deeply grieved at the course pursued by the Free Church, and would
+hail, as a relief from a deep and blighting shame, the “sending back
+the money” to the slaveholders from whom it was gathered.
+
+One good result followed the conduct of the Free Church; it furnished
+an occasion for making the people of Scotland thoroughly acquainted
+with the character of slavery, and for arraying against the system the
+moral and religious sentiment of that country. Therefore, while we did
+not succeed in accomplishing the specific object of our mission,
+namely—procure the sending back of the money—we were amply justified by
+the good which really did result from our labors.
+
+Next comes the Evangelical Alliance. This was an attempt to form a
+union of all evangelical Christians throughout the world. Sixty or
+seventy American divines attended, and some of them went there merely
+to weave a world-wide garment with which to clothe evangelical
+slaveholders. Foremost among these divines, was the Rev. Samuel Hanson
+Cox, moderator of the New School Presbyterian General Assembly. He and
+his friends spared no pains to secure a platform broad enough to hold
+American slaveholders, and in this partly succeeded. But the question
+of slavery is too large a question to be finally disposed of, even by
+the Evangelical Alliance. We appealed from the judgment of the
+Alliance, to the judgment of the people of Great Britain, and with the
+happiest effect. This controversy with the Alliance might be made the
+subject of extended remark, but I must forbear, except to say, that
+this effort to shield the Christian character of slaveholders greatly
+served to open a way to the British ear for anti-slavery discussion,
+and that it was well improved.
+
+The fourth and last circumstance that assisted me in getting before the
+British public, was an attempt on the part of certain doctors of
+divinity to silence me on the platform of the World’s Temperance
+Convention. Here I was brought into point blank collison with Rev. Dr.
+Cox, who made me the subject not only of bitter remark in the
+convention, but also of a long denunciatory letter published in the New
+York Evangelist and other American papers. I replied to the doctor as
+well as I could, and was successful in getting a respectful hearing
+before the British public, who are by nature and practice ardent lovers
+of fair play, especially in a conflict between the weak and the strong.
+
+Thus did circumstances favor me, and favor the cause of which I strove
+to be the advocate. After such distinguished notice, the public in both
+countries was compelled to attach some importance to my labors. By the
+very ill usage I received at the hands of Dr. Cox and his party, by the
+mob on board the “Cambria,” by the attacks made upon me in the American
+newspapers, and by the aspersions cast upon me through the organs of
+the Free Church of Scotland, I became one of that class of men, who,
+for the moment, at least, “have greatness forced upon them.” People
+became the more anxious to hear for themselves, and to judge for
+themselves, of the truth which I had to unfold. While, therefore, it is
+by no means easy for a stranger to get fairly before the British
+public, it was my lot to accomplish it in the easiest manner possible.
+
+Having continued in Great Britain and Ireland nearly two years, and
+being about to return to America—not as I left it, a slave, but a
+freeman—leading friends of the cause of emancipation in that country
+intimated their intention to make me a testimonial, not only on grounds
+of personal regard to myself, but also to the cause to which they were
+so ardently devoted. How far any such thing could have succeeded, I do
+not know; but many reasons led me to prefer that my friends should
+simply give me the means of obtaining a printing press and printing
+materials, to enable me to start a paper, devoted to the interests of
+my enslaved and oppressed people. I told them that perhaps the greatest
+hinderance to the adoption of abolition principles by the people of the
+United States, was the low estimate, everywhere in that country, placed
+upon the Negro, as a man; that because of his assumed natural
+inferiority, people reconciled themselves to his enslavement and
+oppression, as things inevitable, if not desirable. The grand thing to
+be done, therefore, was to change the estimation in which the colored
+people of the United States were held; to remove the prejudice which
+depreciated and depressed them; to prove them worthy of a higher
+consideration; to disprove their alleged inferiority, and demonstrate
+their capacity for a more exalted civilization than slavery and
+prejudice had assigned to them. I further stated, that, in my judgment,
+a tolerably well conducted press, in the hands of persons of the
+despised race, by calling out the mental energies of the race itself;
+by making them acquainted with their own latent powers; by enkindling
+among them the hope that for them there is a future; by developing
+their moral power; by combining and reflecting their talents—would
+prove a most powerful means of removing prejudice, and of awakening an
+interest in them. I further informed them—and at that time the
+statement was true—that there was not, in the United States, a single
+newspaper regularly published by the colored people; that many attempts
+had been made to establish such papers; but that, up to that time, they
+had all failed. These views I laid before my friends. The result was,
+nearly two thousand five hundred dollars were speedily raised toward
+starting my paper. For this prompt and generous assistance, rendered
+upon my bare suggestion, without any personal efforts on my part, I
+shall never cease to feel deeply grateful; and the thought of
+fulfilling the noble expectations of the dear friends who gave me this
+evidence of their confidence, will never cease to be a motive for
+persevering exertion.
+
+Proposing to leave England, and turning my face toward America, in the
+spring of 1847, I was met, on the threshold, with something which
+painfully reminded me of the kind of life which awaited me in my native
+land. For the first time in the many months spent abroad, I was met
+with proscription on account of my color. A few weeks before departing
+from England, while in London, I was careful to purchase a ticket, and
+secure a berth for returning home, in the “Cambria”—the steamer in
+which I left the United States—paying therefor the round sum of forty
+pounds and nineteen shillings sterling. This was first cabin fare. But
+on going aboard the Cambria, I found that the Liverpool agent had
+ordered my berth to be given to another, and had forbidden my entering
+the saloon! This contemptible conduct met with stern rebuke from the
+British press. For, upon the point of leaving England, I took occasion
+to expose the disgusting tyranny, in the columns of the London _Times_.
+That journal, and other leading journals throughout the United Kingdom,
+held up the outrage to unmitigated condemnation. So good an opportunity
+for calling out a full expression of British sentiment on the subject,
+had not before occurred, and it was most fully embraced. The result
+was, that Mr. Cunard came out in a letter to the public journals,
+assuring them of his regret at the outrage, and promising that the like
+should never occur again on board his steamers; and the like, we
+believe, has never since occurred on board the steamships of the Cunard
+line.
+
+It is not very pleasant to be made the subject of such insults; but if
+all such necessarily resulted as this one did, I should be very happy
+to bear, patiently, many more than I have borne, of the same sort.
+Albeit, the lash of proscription, to a man accustomed to equal social
+position, even for a time, as I was, has a sting for the soul hardly
+less severe than that which bites the flesh and draws the blood from
+the back of the plantation slave. It was rather hard, after having
+enjoyed nearly two years of equal social privileges in England, often
+dining with gentlemen of great literary, social, political, and
+religious eminence never, during the whole time, having met with a
+single word, look, or gesture, which gave me the slightest reason to
+think my color was an offense to anybody—now to be cooped up in the
+stern of the “Cambria,” and denied the right to enter the saloon, lest
+my dark presence should be deemed an offense to some of my democratic
+fellow-passengers. The reader will easily imagine what must have been
+my feelings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. _Various Incidents_
+
+
+NEWSPAPER ENTERPRISE—UNEXPECTED OPPOSITION—THE OBJECTIONS TO IT—THEIR
+PLAUSIBILITY ADMITTED—MOTIVES FOR COMING TO ROCHESTER—DISCIPLE OF MR.
+GARRISON—CHANGE OF OPINION—CAUSES LEADING TO IT—THE CONSEQUENCES OF THE
+CHANGE—PREJUDICE AGAINST COLOR—AMUSING CONDESCENSION—“JIM CROW
+CARS”—COLLISIONS WITH CONDUCTORS AND BRAKEMEN—TRAINS ORDERED NOT TO
+STOP AT LYNN—AMUSING DOMESTIC SCENE—SEPARATE TABLES FOR MASTER AND
+MAN—PREJUDICE UNNATURAL—ILLUSTRATIONS—IN HIGH COMPANY—ELEVATION OF THE
+FREE PEOPLE OF COLOR—PLEDGE FOR THE FUTURE.
+
+
+I have now given the reader an imperfect sketch of nine years’
+experience in freedom—three years as a common laborer on the wharves of
+New Bedford, four years as a lecturer in New England, and two years of
+semi-exile in Great Britain and Ireland. A single ray of light remains
+to be flung upon my life during the last eight years, and my story will
+be done.
+
+A trial awaited me on my return from England to the United States, for
+which I was but very imperfectly prepared. My plans for my then future
+usefulness as an anti-slavery advocate were all settled. My friends in
+England had resolved to raise a given sum to purchase for me a press
+and printing materials; and I already saw myself wielding my pen, as
+well as my voice, in the great work of renovating the public mind, and
+building up a public sentiment which should, at least, send slavery and
+oppression to the grave, and restore to “liberty and the pursuit of
+happiness” the people with whom I had suffered, both as a slave and as
+a freeman. Intimation had reached my friends in Boston of what I
+intended to do, before my arrival, and I was prepared to find them
+favorably disposed toward my much cherished enterprise. In this I was
+mistaken. I found them very earnestly opposed to the idea of my
+starting a paper, and for several reasons. First, the paper was not
+needed; secondly, it would interfere with my usefulness as a lecturer;
+thirdly, I was better fitted to speak than to write; fourthly, the
+paper could not succeed. This opposition, from a quarter so highly
+esteemed, and to which I had been accustomed to look for advice and
+direction, caused me not only to hesitate, but inclined me to abandon
+the enterprise. All previous attempts to establish such a journal
+having failed, I felt that probably I should but add another to the
+list of failures, and thus contribute another proof of the mental and
+moral deficiencies of my race. Very much that was said to me in respect
+to my imperfect literary acquirements, I felt to be most painfully
+true. The unsuccessful projectors of all the previous colored
+newspapers were my superiors in point of education, and if they failed,
+how could I hope for success? Yet I did hope for success, and persisted
+in the undertaking. Some of my English friends greatly encouraged me to
+go forward, and I shall never cease to be grateful for their words of
+cheer and generous deeds.
+
+I can easily pardon those who have denounced me as ambitious and
+presumptuous, in view of my persistence in this enterprise. I was but
+nine years from slavery. In point of mental experience, I was but nine
+years old. That one, in such circumstances, should aspire to establish
+a printing press, among an educated people, might well be considered,
+if not ambitious, quite silly. My American friends looked at me with
+astonishment! “A wood-sawyer” offering himself to the public as an
+editor! A slave, brought up in the very depths of ignorance, assuming
+to instruct the highly civilized people of the north in the principles
+of liberty, justice, and humanity! The thing looked absurd.
+Nevertheless, I persevered. I felt that the want of education, great as
+it was, could be overcome by study, and that knowledge would come by
+experience; and further (which was perhaps the most controlling
+consideration). I thought that an intelligent public, knowing my early
+history, would easily pardon a large share of the deficiencies which I
+was sure that my paper would exhibit. The most distressing thing,
+however, was the offense which I was about to give my Boston friends,
+by what seemed to them a reckless disregard of their sage advice. I am
+not sure that I was not under the influence of something like a slavish
+adoration of my Boston friends, and I labored hard to convince them of
+the wisdom of my undertaking, but without success. Indeed, I never
+expect to succeed, although time has answered all their original
+objections. The paper has been successful. It is a large sheet, costing
+eighty dollars per week—has three thousand subscribers—has been
+published regularly nearly eight years—and bids fair to stand eight
+years longer. At any rate, the eight years to come are as full of
+promise as were the eight that are past.
+
+It is not to be concealed, however, that the maintenance of such a
+journal, under the circumstances, has been a work of much difficulty;
+and could all the perplexity, anxiety, and trouble attending it, have
+been clearly foreseen, I might have shrunk from the undertaking. As it
+is, I rejoice in having engaged in the enterprise, and count it joy to
+have been able to suffer, in many ways, for its success, and for the
+success of the cause to which it has been faithfully devoted. I look
+upon the time, money, and labor bestowed upon it, as being amply
+rewarded, in the development of my own mental and moral energies, and
+in the corresponding development of my deeply injured and oppressed
+people.
+
+From motives of peace, instead of issuing my paper in Boston, among my
+New England friends, I came to Rochester, western New York, among
+strangers, where the circulation of my paper could not interfere with
+the local circulation of the _Liberator_ and the _Standard;_ for at
+that time I was, on the anti-slavery question, a faithful disciple of
+William Lloyd Garrison, and fully committed to his doctrine touching
+the pro-slavery character of the constitution of the United States, and
+the _non-voting principle_, of which he is the known and distinguished
+advocate. With Mr. Garrison, I held it to be the first duty of the
+non-slaveholding states to dissolve the union with the slaveholding
+states; and hence my cry, like his, was, “No union with slaveholders.”
+With these views, I came into western New York; and during the first
+four years of my labor here, I advocated them with pen and tongue,
+according to the best of my ability.
+
+About four years ago, upon a reconsideration of the whole subject, I
+became convinced that there was no necessity for dissolving the “union
+between the northern and southern states;” that to seek this
+dissolution was no part of my duty as an abolitionist; that to abstain
+from voting, was to refuse to exercise a legitimate and powerful means
+for abolishing slavery; and that the constitution of the United States
+not only contained no guarantees in favor of slavery, but, on the
+contrary, it is, in its letter and spirit, an anti-slavery instrument,
+demanding the abolition of slavery as a condition of its own existence,
+as the supreme law of the land.
+
+Here was a radical change in my opinions, and in the action logically
+resulting from that change. To those with whom I had been in agreement
+and in sympathy, I was now in opposition. What they held to be a great
+and important truth, I now looked upon as a dangerous error. A very
+painful, and yet a very natural, thing now happened. Those who could
+not see any honest reasons for changing their views, as I had done,
+could not easily see any such reasons for my change, and the common
+punishment of apostates was mine.
+
+The opinions first entertained were naturally derived and honestly
+entertained, and I trust that my present opinions have the same claims
+to respect. Brought directly, when I escaped from slavery, into contact
+with a class of abolitionists regarding the constitution as a
+slaveholding instrument, and finding their views supported by the
+united and entire history of every department of the government, it is
+not strange that I assumed the constitution to be just what their
+interpretation made it. I was bound, not only by their superior
+knowledge, to take their opinions as the true ones, in respect to the
+subject, but also because I had no means of showing their unsoundness.
+But for the responsibility of conducting a public journal, and the
+necessity imposed upon me of meeting opposite views from abolitionists
+in this state, I should in all probability have remained as firm in my
+disunion views as any other disciple of William Lloyd Garrison.
+
+My new circumstances compelled me to re-think the whole subject, and to
+study, with some care, not only the just and proper rules of legal
+interpretation, but the origin, design, nature, rights, powers, and
+duties of civil government, and also the relations which human beings
+sustain to it. By such a course of thought and reading, I was conducted
+to the conclusion that the constitution of the United
+States—inaugurated “to form a more perfect union, establish justice,
+insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote
+the general welfare, and secure the blessing of liberty”—could not well
+have been designed at the same time to maintain and perpetuate a system
+of rapine and murder, like slavery; especially, as not one word can be
+found in the constitution to authorize such a belief. Then, again, if
+the declared purposes of an instrument are to govern the meaning of all
+its parts and details, as they clearly should, the constitution of our
+country is our warrant for the abolition of slavery in every state in
+the American Union. I mean, however, not to argue, but simply to state
+my views. It would require very many pages of a volume like this, to
+set forth the arguments demonstrating the unconstitutionality and the
+complete illegality of slavery in our land; and as my experience, and
+not my arguments, is within the scope and contemplation of this volume,
+I omit the latter and proceed with the former.
+
+I will now ask the kind reader to go back a little in my story, while I
+bring up a thread left behind for convenience sake, but which, small as
+it is, cannot be properly omitted altogether; and that thread is
+American prejudice against color, and its varied illustrations in my
+own experience.
+
+When I first went among the abolitionists of New England, and began to
+travel, I found this prejudice very strong and very annoying. The
+abolitionists themselves were not entirely free from it, and I could
+see that they were nobly struggling against it. In their eagerness,
+sometimes, to show their contempt for the feeling, they proved that
+they had not entirely recovered from it; often illustrating the saying,
+in their conduct, that a man may “stand up so straight as to lean
+backward.” When it was said to me, “Mr. Douglass, I will walk to
+meeting with you; I am not afraid of a black man,” I could not help
+thinking—seeing nothing very frightful in my appearance—“And why should
+you be?” The children at the north had all been educated to believe
+that if they were bad, the old _black_ man—not the old _devil_—would
+get them; and it was evidence of some courage, for any so educated to
+get the better of their fears.
+
+The custom of providing separate cars for the accommodation of colored
+travelers, was established on nearly all the railroads of New England,
+a dozen years ago. Regarding this custom as fostering the spirit of
+caste, I made it a rule to seat myself in the cars for the
+accommodation of passengers generally. Thus seated, I was sure to be
+called upon to betake myself to the “_Jim Crow car_.” Refusing to obey,
+I was often dragged out of my seat, beaten, and severely bruised, by
+conductors and brakemen. Attempting to start from Lynn, one day, for
+Newburyport, on the Eastern railroad, I went, as my custom was, into
+one of the best railroad carriages on the road. The seats were very
+luxuriant and beautiful. I was soon waited upon by the conductor, and
+ordered out; whereupon I demanded the reason for my invidious removal.
+After a good deal of parleying, I was told that it was because I was
+black. This I denied, and appealed to the company to sustain my denial;
+but they were evidently unwilling to commit themselves, on a point so
+delicate, and requiring such nice powers of discrimination, for they
+remained as dumb as death. I was soon waited on by half a dozen fellows
+of the baser sort (just such as would volunteer to take a bull-dog out
+of a meeting-house in time of public worship), and told that I must
+move out of that seat, and if I did not, they would drag me out. I
+refused to move, and they clutched me, head, neck, and shoulders. But,
+in anticipation of the stretching to which I was about to be subjected,
+I had interwoven myself among the seats. In dragging me out, on this
+occasion, it must have cost the company twenty-five or thirty dollars,
+for I tore up seats and all. So great was the excitement in Lynn, on
+the subject, that the superintendent, Mr. Stephen A. Chase, ordered the
+trains to run through Lynn without stopping, while I remained in that
+town; and this ridiculous farce was enacted. For several days the
+trains went dashing through Lynn without stopping. At the same time
+that they excluded a free colored man from their cars, this same
+company allowed slaves, in company with their masters and mistresses,
+to ride unmolested.
+
+After many battles with the railroad conductors, and being roughly
+handled in not a few instances, proscription was at last abandoned; and
+the “Jim Crow car”—set up for the degradation of colored people—is
+nowhere found in New England. This result was not brought about without
+the intervention of the people, and the threatened enactment of a law
+compelling railroad companies to respect the rights of travelers. Hon.
+Charles Francis Adams performed signal service in the Massachusetts
+legislature, in bringing this reformation; and to him the colored
+citizens of that state are deeply indebted.
+
+Although often annoyed, and sometimes outraged, by this prejudice
+against color, I am indebted to it for many passages of quiet
+amusement. A half-cured subject of it is sometimes driven into awkward
+straits, especially if he happens to get a genuine specimen of the race
+into his house.
+
+In the summer of 1843, I was traveling and lecturing, in company with
+William A. White, Esq., through the state of Indiana. Anti-slavery
+friends were not very abundant in Indiana, at that time, and beds were
+not more plentiful than friends. We often slept out, in preference to
+sleeping in the houses, at some points. At the close of one of our
+meetings, we were invited home with a kindly-disposed old farmer, who,
+in the generous enthusiasm of the moment, seemed to have forgotten that
+he had but one spare bed, and that his guests were an ill-matched pair.
+All went on pretty well, till near bed time, when signs of uneasiness
+began to show themselves, among the unsophisticated sons and daughters.
+White is remarkably fine looking, and very evidently a born gentleman;
+the idea of putting us in the same bed was hardly to be tolerated; and
+yet, there we were, and but the one bed for us, and that, by the way,
+was in the same room occupied by the other members of the family.
+White, as well as I, perceived the difficulty, for yonder slept the old
+folks, there the sons, and a little farther along slept the daughters;
+and but one other bed remained. Who should have this bed, was the
+puzzling question. There was some whispering between the old folks,
+some confused looks among the young, as the time for going to bed
+approached. After witnessing the confusion as long as I liked, I
+relieved the kindly-disposed family by playfully saying, “Friend White,
+having got entirely rid of my prejudice against color, I think, as a
+proof of it, I must allow you to sleep with me to-night.” White kept up
+the joke, by seeming to esteem himself the favored party, and thus the
+difficulty was removed. If we went to a hotel, and called for dinner,
+the landlord was sure to set one table for White and another for me,
+always taking him to be master, and me the servant. Large eyes were
+generally made when the order was given to remove the dishes from my
+table to that of White’s. In those days, it was thought strange that a
+white man and a colored man could dine peaceably at the same table, and
+in some parts the strangeness of such a sight has not entirely
+subsided.
+
+Some people will have it that there is a natural, an inherent, and an
+invincible repugnance in the breast of the white race toward
+dark-colored people; and some very intelligent colored men think that
+their proscription is owing solely to the color which nature has given
+them. They hold that they are rated according to their color, and that
+it is impossible for white people ever to look upon dark races of men,
+or men belonging to the African race, with other than feelings of
+aversion. My experience, both serious and mirthful, combats this
+conclusion. Leaving out of sight, for a moment, grave facts, to this
+point, I will state one or two, which illustrate a very interesting
+feature of American character as well as American prejudice. Riding
+from Boston to Albany, a few years ago, I found myself in a large car,
+well filled with passengers. The seat next to me was about the only
+vacant one. At every stopping place we took in new passengers, all of
+whom, on reaching the seat next to me, cast a disdainful glance upon
+it, and passed to another car, leaving me in the full enjoyment of a
+hole form. For a time, I did not know but that my riding there was
+prejudicial to the interest of the railroad company. A circumstance
+occurred, however, which gave me an elevated position at once. Among
+the passengers on this train was Gov. George N. Briggs. I was not
+acquainted with him, and had no idea that I was known to him, however,
+I was, for upon observing me, the governor left his place, and making
+his way toward me, respectfully asked the privilege of a seat by my
+side; and upon introducing himself, we entered into a conversation very
+pleasant and instructive to me. The despised seat now became honored.
+His excellency had removed all the prejudice against sitting by the
+side of a Negro; and upon his leaving it, as he did, on reaching
+Pittsfield, there were at least one dozen applicants for the place. The
+governor had, without changing my skin a single shade, made the place
+respectable which before was despicable.
+
+A similar incident happened to me once on the Boston and New Bedford
+railroad, and the leading party to it has since been governor of the
+state of Massachusetts. I allude to Col. John Henry Clifford. Lest the
+reader may fancy I am aiming to elevate myself, by claiming too much
+intimacy with great men, I must state that my only acquaintance with
+Col. Clifford was formed while I was _his hired servant_, during the
+first winter of my escape from slavery. I owe it him to say, that in
+that relation I found him always kind and gentlemanly. But to the
+incident. I entered a car at Boston, for New Bedford, which, with the
+exception of a single seat was full, and found I must occupy this, or
+stand up, during the journey. Having no mind to do this, I stepped up
+to the man having the next seat, and who had a few parcels on the seat,
+and gently asked leave to take a seat by his side. My fellow-passenger
+gave me a look made up of reproach and indignation, and asked me why I
+should come to that particular seat. I assured him, in the gentlest
+manner, that of all others this was the seat for me. Finding that I was
+actually about to sit down, he sang out, “O! stop, stop! and let me get
+out!” Suiting the action to the word, up the agitated man got, and
+sauntered to the other end of the car, and was compelled to stand for
+most of the way thereafter. Halfway to New Bedford, or more, Col.
+Clifford, recognizing me, left his seat, and not having seen me before
+since I had ceased to wait on him (in everything except hard arguments
+against his pro-slavery position), apparently forgetful of his rank,
+manifested, in greeting me, something of the feeling of an old friend.
+This demonstration was not lost on the gentleman whose dignity I had,
+an hour before, most seriously offended. Col. Clifford was known to be
+about the most aristocratic gentleman in Bristol county; and it was
+evidently thought that I must be somebody, else I should not have been
+thus noticed, by a person so distinguished. Sure enough, after Col.
+Clifford left me, I found myself surrounded with friends; and among the
+number, my offended friend stood nearest, and with an apology for his
+rudeness, which I could not resist, although it was one of the lamest
+ever offered. With such facts as these before me—and I have many of
+them—I am inclined to think that pride and fashion have much to do with
+the treatment commonly extended to colored people in the United States.
+I once heard a very plain man say (and he was cross-eyed, and awkwardly
+flung together in other respects) that he should be a handsome man when
+public opinion shall be changed.
+
+Since I have been editing and publishing a journal devoted to the cause
+of liberty and progress, I have had my mind more directed to the
+condition and circumstances of the free colored people than when I was
+the agent of an abolition society. The result has been a corresponding
+change in the disposition of my time and labors. I have felt it to be a
+part of my mission—under a gracious Providence to impress my sable
+brothers in this country with the conviction that, notwithstanding the
+ten thousand discouragements and the powerful hinderances, which beset
+their existence in this country—notwithstanding the blood-written
+history of Africa, and her children, from whom we have descended, or
+the clouds and darkness (whose stillness and gloom are made only more
+awful by wrathful thunder and lightning) now overshadowing
+them—progress is yet possible, and bright skies shall yet shine upon
+their pathway; and that “Ethiopia shall yet reach forth her hand unto
+God.”
+
+Believing that one of the best means of emancipating the slaves of the
+south is to improve and elevate the character of the free colored
+people of the north I shall labor in the future, as I have labored in
+the past, to promote the moral, social, religious, and intellectual
+elevation of the free colored people; never forgetting my own humble
+orgin(sic), nor refusing, while Heaven lends me ability, to use my
+voice, my pen, or my vote, to advocate the great and primary work of
+the universal and unconditional emancipation of my entire race.
+
+
+
+
+RECEPTION SPEECH 10. At Finsbury Chapel, Moorfields, England, May 12,
+
+
+1846
+
+Mr. Douglass rose amid loud cheers, and said: I feel exceedingly glad
+of the opportunity now afforded me of presenting the claims of my
+brethren in bonds in the United States, to so many in London and from
+various parts of Britain, who have assembled here on the present
+occasion. I have nothing to commend me to your consideration in the way
+of learning, nothing in the way of education, to entitle me to your
+attention; and you are aware that slavery is a very bad school for
+rearing teachers of morality and religion. Twenty-one years of my life
+have been spent in slavery—personal slavery—surrounded by degrading
+influences, such as can exist nowhere beyond the pale of slavery; and
+it will not be strange, if under such circumstances, I should betray,
+in what I have to say to you, a deficiency of that refinement which is
+seldom or ever found, except among persons that have experienced
+superior advantages to those which I have enjoyed. But I will take it
+for granted that you know something about the degrading influences of
+slavery, and that you will not expect great things from me this
+evening, but simply such facts as I may be able to advance immediately
+in connection with my own experience of slavery.
+
+Now, what is this system of slavery? This is the subject of my lecture
+this evening—what is the character of this institution? I am about to
+answer the inquiry, what is American slavery? I do this the more
+readily, since I have found persons in this country who have identified
+the term slavery with that which I think it is not, and in some
+instances, I have feared, in so doing, have rather (unwittingly, I
+know) detracted much from the horror with which the term slavery is
+contemplated. It is common in this country to distinguish every bad
+thing by the name of slavery. Intemperance is slavery; to be deprived
+of the right to vote is slavery, says one; to have to work hard is
+slavery, says another; and I do not know but that if we should let them
+go on, they would say that to eat when we are hungry, to walk when we
+desire to have exercise, or to minister to our necessities, or have
+necessities at all, is slavery. I do not wish for a moment to detract
+from the horror with which the evil of intemperance is contemplated—not
+at all; nor do I wish to throw the slightest obstruction in the way of
+any political freedom that any class of persons in this country may
+desire to obtain. But I am here to say that I think the term slavery is
+sometimes abused by identifying it with that which it is not. Slavery
+in the United States is the granting of that power by which one man
+exercises and enforces a right of property in the body and soul of
+another. The condition of a slave is simply that of the brute beast. He
+is a piece of property—a marketable commodity, in the language of the
+law, to be bought or sold at the will and caprice of the master who
+claims him to be his property; he is spoken of, thought of, and treated
+as property. His own good, his conscience, his intellect, his
+affections, are all set aside by the master. The will and the wishes of
+the master are the law of the slave. He is as much a piece of property
+as a horse. If he is fed, he is fed because he is property. If he is
+clothed, it is with a view to the increase of his value as property.
+Whatever of comfort is necessary to him for his body or soul that is
+inconsistent with his being property, is carefully wrested from him,
+not only by public opinion, but by the law of the country. He is
+carefully deprived of everything that tends in the slightest degree to
+detract from his value as property. He is deprived of education. God
+has given him an intellect; the slaveholder declares it shall not be
+cultivated. If his moral perception leads him in a course contrary to
+his value as property, the slaveholder declares he shall not exercise
+it. The marriage institution cannot exist among slaves, and one-sixth
+of the population of democratic America is denied its privileges by the
+law of the land. What is to be thought of a nation boasting of its
+liberty, boasting of its humanity, boasting of its Christianity,
+boasting of its love of justice and purity, and yet having within its
+own borders three millions of persons denied by law the right of
+marriage?—what must be the condition of that people? I need not lift up
+the veil by giving you any experience of my own. Every one that can put
+two ideas together, must see the most fearful results from such a state
+of things as I have just mentioned. If any of these three millions find
+for themselves companions, and prove themselves honest, upright,
+virtuous persons to each other, yet in these cases—few as I am bound to
+confess they are—the virtuous live in constant apprehension of being
+torn asunder by the merciless men-stealers that claim them as their
+property. This is American slavery; no marriage—no education—the light
+of the gospel shut out from the dark mind of the bondman—and he
+forbidden by law to learn to read. If a mother shall teach her children
+to read, the law in Louisiana proclaims that she may be hanged by the
+neck. If the father attempt to give his son a knowledge of letters, he
+may be punished by the whip in one instance, and in another be killed,
+at the discretion of the court. Three millions of people shut out from
+the light of knowledge! It is easy for you to conceive the evil that
+must result from such a state of things.
+
+I now come to the physical evils of slavery. I do not wish to dwell at
+length upon these, but it seems right to speak of them, not so much to
+influence your minds on this question, as to let the slaveholders of
+America know that the curtain which conceals their crimes is being
+lifted abroad; that we are opening the dark cell, and leading the
+people into the horrible recesses of what they are pleased to call
+their domestic institution. We want them to know that a knowledge of
+their whippings, their scourgings, their brandings, their chainings, is
+not confined to their plantations, but that some Negro of theirs has
+broken loose from his chains—has burst through the dark incrustation of
+slavery, and is now exposing their deeds of deep damnation to the gaze
+of the christian people of England.
+
+The slaveholders resort to all kinds of cruelty. If I were disposed, I
+have matter enough to interest you on this question for five or six
+evenings, but I will not dwell at length upon these cruelties. Suffice
+it to say, that all of the peculiar modes of torture that were resorted
+to in the West India islands, are resorted to, I believe, even more
+frequently, in the United States of America. Starvation, the bloody
+whip, the chain, the gag, the thumb-screw, cat-hauling, the
+cat-o’-nine-tails, the dungeon, the blood-hound, are all in requisition
+to keep the slave in his condition as a slave in the United States. If
+any one has a doubt upon this point, I would ask him to read the
+chapter on slavery in Dickens’s _Notes on America_. If any man has a
+doubt upon it, I have here the “testimony of a thousand witnesses,”
+which I can give at any length, all going to prove the truth of my
+statement. The blood-hound is regularly trained in the United States,
+and advertisements are to be found in the southern papers of the Union,
+from persons advertising themselves as blood-hound trainers, and
+offering to hunt down slaves at fifteen dollars a piece, recommending
+their hounds as the fleetest in the neighborhood, never known to fail.
+Advertisements are from time to time inserted, stating that slaves have
+escaped with iron collars about their necks, with bands of iron about
+their feet, marked with the lash, branded with red-hot irons, the
+initials of their master’s name burned into their flesh; and the
+masters advertise the fact of their being thus branded with their own
+signature, thereby proving to the world, that, however damning it may
+appear to non-slavers, such practices are not regarded discreditable
+among the slaveholders themselves. Why, I believe if a man should brand
+his horse in this country—burn the initials of his name into any of his
+cattle, and publish the ferocious deed here—that the united execrations
+of Christians in Britain would descend upon him. Yet in the United
+States, human beings are thus branded. As Whittier says—
+
+... Our countrymen in chains,
+The whip on woman’s shrinking flesh,
+Our soil yet reddening with the stains
+Caught from her scourgings warm and fresh.
+
+
+The slave-dealer boldly publishes his infamous acts to the world. Of
+all things that have been said of slavery to which exception has been
+taken by slaveholders, this, the charge of cruelty, stands foremost,
+and yet there is no charge capable of clearer demonstration, than that
+of the most barbarous inhumanity on the part of the slaveholders toward
+their slaves. And all this is necessary; it is necessary to resort to
+these cruelties, in order to _make the slave a slave_, and to _keep him
+a slave_. Why, my experience all goes to prove the truth of what you
+will call a marvelous proposition, that the better you treat a slave,
+the more you destroy his value _as a slave_, and enhance the
+probability of his eluding the grasp of the slaveholder; the more
+kindly you treat him, the more wretched you make him, while you keep
+him in the condition of a slave. My experience, I say, confirms the
+truth of this proposition. When I was treated exceedingly ill; when my
+back was being scourged daily; when I was whipped within an inch of my
+life—_life_ was all I cared for. “Spare my life,” was my continual
+prayer. When I was looking for the blow about to be inflicted upon my
+head, I was not thinking of my liberty; it was my life. But, as soon as
+the blow was not to be feared, then came the longing for liberty. If a
+slave has a bad master, his ambition is to get a better; when he gets a
+better, he aspires to have the best; and when he gets the best, he
+aspires to be his own master. But the slave must be brutalized to keep
+him as a slave. The slaveholder feels this necessity. I admit this
+necessity. If it be right to hold slaves at all, it is right to hold
+them in the only way in which they can be held; and this can be done
+only by shutting out the light of education from their minds, and
+brutalizing their persons. The whip, the chain, the gag, the
+thumb-screw, the blood-hound, the stocks, and all the other bloody
+paraphernalia of the slave system, are indispensably necessary to the
+relation of master and slave. The slave must be subjected to these, or
+he ceases to be a slave. Let him know that the whip is burned; that the
+fetters have been turned to some useful and profitable employment; that
+the chain is no longer for his limbs; that the blood-hound is no longer
+to be put upon his track; that his master’s authority over him is no
+longer to be enforced by taking his life—and immediately he walks out
+from the house of bondage and asserts his freedom as a man. The
+slaveholder finds it necessary to have these implements to keep the
+slave in bondage; finds it necessary to be able to say, “Unless you do
+so and so; unless you do as I bid you—I will take away your life!”
+
+Some of the most awful scenes of cruelty are constantly taking place in
+the middle states of the Union. We have in those states what are called
+the slave-breeding states. Allow me to speak plainly. Although it is
+harrowing to your feelings, it is necessary that the facts of the case
+should be stated. We have in the United States slave-breeding states.
+The very state from which the minister from our court to yours comes,
+is one of these states—Maryland, where men, women, and children are
+reared for the market, just as horses, sheep, and swine are raised for
+the market. Slave-rearing is there looked upon as a legitimate trade;
+the law sanctions it, public opinion upholds it, the church does not
+condemn it. It goes on in all its bloody horrors, sustained by the
+auctioneer’s block. If you would see the cruelties of this system, hear
+the following narrative. Not long since the following scene occurred. A
+slave-woman and a slaveman had united themselves as man and wife in the
+absence of any law to protect them as man and wife. They had lived
+together by the permission, not by right, of their master, and they had
+reared a family. The master found it expedient, and for his interest,
+to sell them. He did not ask them their wishes in regard to the matter
+at all; they were not consulted. The man and woman were brought to the
+auctioneer’s block, under the sound of the hammer. The cry was raised,
+“Here goes; who bids cash?” Think of it—a man and wife to be sold! The
+woman was placed on the auctioneer’s block; her limbs, as is customary,
+were brutally exposed to the purchasers, who examined her with all the
+freedom with which they would examine a horse. There stood the husband,
+powerless; no right to his wife; the master’s right preeminent. She was
+sold. He was next brought to the auctioneer’s block. His eyes followed
+his wife in the distance; and he looked beseechingly, imploringly, to
+the man that had bought his wife, to buy him also. But he was at length
+bid off to another person. He was about to be separated forever from
+her he loved. No word of his, no work of his, could save him from this
+separation. He asked permission of his new master to go and take the
+hand of his wife at parting. It was denied him. In the agony of his
+soul he rushed from the man who had just bought him, that he might take
+a farewell of his wife; but his way was obstructed, he was struck over
+the head with a loaded whip, and was held for a moment; but his agony
+was too great. When he was let go, he fell a corpse at the feet of his
+master. His heart was broken. Such scenes are the everyday fruits of
+American slavery. Some two years since, the Hon. Seth. M. Gates, an
+anti-slavery gentleman of the state of New York, a representative in
+the congress of the United States, told me he saw with his own eyes the
+following circumstances. In the national District of Columbia, over
+which the star-spangled emblem is constantly waving, where orators are
+ever holding forth on the subject of American liberty, American
+democracy, American republicanism, there are two slave prisons. When
+going across a bridge, leading to one of these prisons, he saw a young
+woman run out, bare-footed and bare-headed, and with very little
+clothing on. She was running with all speed to the bridge he was
+approaching. His eye was fixed upon her, and he stopped to see what was
+the matter. He had not paused long before he saw three men run out
+after her. He now knew what the nature of the case was; a slave
+escaping from her chains—a young woman, a sister—escaping from the
+bondage in which she had been held. She made her way to the bridge, but
+had not reached, ere from the Virginia side there came two
+slaveholders. As soon as they saw them, her pursuers called out, “Stop
+her!” True to their Virginian instincts, they came to the rescue of
+their brother kidnappers, across the bridge. The poor girl now saw that
+there was no chance for her. It was a trying time. She knew if she went
+back, she must be a slave forever—she must be dragged down to the
+scenes of pollution which the slaveholders continually provide for most
+of the poor, sinking, wretched young women, whom they call their
+property. She formed her resolution; and just as those who were about
+to take her, were going to put hands upon her, to drag her back, she
+leaped over the balustrades of the bridge, and down she went to rise no
+more. She chose death, rather than to go back into the hands of those
+christian slaveholders from whom she had escaped.
+
+Can it be possible that such things as these exist in the United
+States? Are not these the exceptions? Are any such scenes as this
+general? Are not such deeds condemned by the law and denounced by
+public opinion? Let me read to you a few of the laws of the
+slaveholding states of America. I think no better exposure of slavery
+can be made than is made by the laws of the states in which slavery
+exists. I prefer reading the laws to making any statement in
+confirmation of what I have said myself; for the slaveholders cannot
+object to this testimony, since it is the calm, the cool, the
+deliberate enactment of their wisest heads, of their most
+clear-sighted, their own constituted representatives. “If more than
+seven slaves together are found in any road without a white person,
+twenty lashes a piece; for visiting a plantation without a written
+pass, ten lashes; for letting loose a boat from where it is made fast,
+thirty-nine lashes for the first offense; and for the second, shall
+have cut off from his head one ear; for keeping or carrying a club,
+thirty-nine lashes; for having any article for sale, without a ticket
+from his master, ten lashes; for traveling in any other than the most
+usual and accustomed road, when going alone to any place, forty lashes;
+for traveling in the night without a pass, forty lashes.” I am afraid
+you do not understand the awful character of these lashes. You must
+bring it before your mind. A human being in a perfect state of nudity,
+tied hand and foot to a stake, and a strong man standing behind with a
+heavy whip, knotted at the end, each blow cutting into the flesh, and
+leaving the warm blood dripping to the feet; and for these trifles.
+“For being found in another person’s negro-quarters, forty lashes; for
+hunting with dogs in the woods, thirty lashes; for being on horseback
+without the written permission of his master, twenty-five lashes; for
+riding or going abroad in the night, or riding horses in the day time,
+without leave, a slave may be whipped, cropped, or branded in the cheek
+with the letter R. or otherwise punished, such punishment not extending
+to life, or so as to render him unfit for labor.” The laws referred to,
+may be found by consulting _Brevard’s Digest; Haywood’s Manual;
+Virginia Revised Code; Prince’s Digest; Missouri Laws; Mississippi
+Revised Code_. A man, for going to visit his brethren, without the
+permission of his master—and in many instances he may not have that
+permission; his master, from caprice or other reasons, may not be
+willing to allow it—may be caught on his way, dragged to a post, the
+branding-iron heated, and the name of his master or the letter R
+branded into his cheek or on his forehead. They treat slaves thus, on
+the principle that they must punish for light offenses, in order to
+prevent the commission of larger ones. I wish you to mark that in the
+single state of Virginia there are seventy-one crimes for which a
+colored man may be executed; while there are only three of these
+crimes, which, when committed by a white man, will subject him to that
+punishment. There are many of these crimes which if the white man did
+not commit, he would be regarded as a scoundrel and a coward. In the
+state of Maryland, there is a law to this effect: that if a slave shall
+strike his master, he may be hanged, his head severed from his body,
+his body quartered, and his head and quarters set up in the most
+prominent places in the neighborhood. If a colored woman, in the
+defense of her own virtue, in defense of her own person, should shield
+herself from the brutal attacks of her tyrannical master, or make the
+slightest resistance, she may be killed on the spot. No law whatever
+will bring the guilty man to justice for the crime.
+
+But you will ask me, can these things be possible in a land professing
+Christianity? Yes, they are so; and this is not the worst. No; a darker
+feature is yet to be presented than the mere existence of these facts.
+I have to inform you that the religion of the southern states, at this
+time, is the great supporter, the great sanctioner of the bloody
+atrocities to which I have referred. While America is printing tracts
+and bibles; sending missionaries abroad to convert the heathen;
+expending her money in various ways for the promotion of the gospel in
+foreign lands—the slave not only lies forgotten, uncared for, but is
+trampled under foot by the very churches of the land. What have we in
+America? Why, we have slavery made part of the religion of the land.
+Yes, the pulpit there stands up as the great defender of this cursed
+_institution_, as it is called. Ministers of religion come forward and
+torture the hallowed pages of inspired wisdom to sanction the bloody
+deed. They stand forth as the foremost, the strongest defenders of this
+“institution.” As a proof of this, I need not do more than state the
+general fact, that slavery has existed under the droppings of the
+sanctuary of the south for the last two hundred years, and there has
+not been any war between the _religion_ and the _slavery_ of the south.
+Whips, chains, gags, and thumb-screws have all lain under the droppings
+of the sanctuary, and instead of rusting from off the limbs of the
+bondman, those droppings have served to preserve them in all their
+strength. Instead of preaching the gospel against this tyranny, rebuke,
+and wrong, ministers of religion have sought, by all and every means,
+to throw in the back-ground whatever in the bible could be construed
+into opposition to slavery, and to bring forward that which they could
+torture into its support. This I conceive to be the darkest feature of
+slavery, and the most difficult to attack, because it is identified
+with religion, and exposes those who denounce it to the charge of
+infidelity. Yes, those with whom I have been laboring, namely, the old
+organization anti-slavery society of America, have been again and again
+stigmatized as infidels, and for what reason? Why, solely in
+consequence of the faithfulness of their attacks upon the slaveholding
+religion of the southern states, and the northern religion that
+sympathizes with it. I have found it difficult to speak on this matter
+without persons coming forward and saying, “Douglass, are you not
+afraid of injuring the cause of Christ? You do not desire to do so, we
+know; but are you not undermining religion?” This has been said to me
+again and again, even since I came to this country, but I cannot be
+induced to leave off these exposures. I love the religion of our
+blessed Savior. I love that religion that comes from above, in the
+“wisdom of God,” which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy
+to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and
+without hypocrisy. I love that religion that sends its votaries to bind
+up the wounds of him that has fallen among thieves. I love that
+religion that makes it the duty of its disciples to visit the father
+less and the widow in their affliction. I love that religion that is
+based upon the glorious principle, of love to God and love to man;
+which makes its followers do unto others as they themselves would be
+done by. If you demand liberty to yourself, it says, grant it to your
+neighbors. If you claim a right to think for yourself, it says, allow
+your neighbors the same right. If you claim to act for yourself, it
+says, allow your neighbors the same right. It is because I love this
+religion that I hate the slaveholding, the woman-whipping, the
+mind-darkening, the soul-destroying religion that exists in the
+southern states of America. It is because I regard the one as good, and
+pure, and holy, that I cannot but regard the other as bad, corrupt, and
+wicked. Loving the one I must hate the other; holding to the one I must
+reject the other.
+
+I may be asked, why I am so anxious to bring this subject before the
+British public—why I do not confine my efforts to the United States? My
+answer is, first, that slavery is the common enemy of mankind, and all
+mankind should be made acquainted with its abominable character. My
+next answer is, that the slave is a man, and, as such, is entitled to
+your sympathy as a brother. All the feelings, all the susceptibilities,
+all the capacities, which you have, he has. He is a part of the human
+family. He has been the prey—the common prey—of Christendom for the
+last three hundred years, and it is but right, it is but just, it is
+but proper, that his wrongs should be known throughout the world. I
+have another reason for bringing this matter before the British public,
+and it is this: slavery is a system of wrong, so blinding to all
+around, so hardening to the heart, so corrupting to the morals, so
+deleterious to religion, so sapping to all the principles of justice in
+its immediate vicinity, that the community surrounding it lack the
+moral stamina necessary to its removal. It is a system of such gigantic
+evil, so strong, so overwhelming in its power, that no one nation is
+equal to its removal. It requires the humanity of Christianity, the
+morality of the world to remove it. Hence, I call upon the people of
+Britain to look at this matter, and to exert the influence I am about
+to show they possess, for the removal of slavery from America. I can
+appeal to them, as strongly by their regard for the slaveholder as for
+the slave, to labor in this cause. I am here, because you have an
+influence on America that no other nation can have. You have been drawn
+together by the power of steam to a marvelous extent; the distance
+between London and Boston is now reduced to some twelve or fourteen
+days, so that the denunciations against slavery, uttered in London this
+week, may be heard in a fortnight in the streets of Boston, and
+reverberating amidst the hills of Massachusetts. There is nothing said
+here against slavery that will not be recorded in the United States. I
+am here, also, because the slaveholders do not want me to be here; they
+would rather that I were not here. I have adopted a maxim laid down by
+Napoleon, never to occupy ground which the enemy would like me to
+occupy. The slaveholders would much rather have me, if I will denounce
+slavery, denounce it in the northern states, where their friends and
+supporters are, who will stand by and mob me for denouncing it. They
+feel something as the man felt, when he uttered his prayer, in which he
+made out a most horrible case for himself, and one of his neighbors
+touched him and said, “My friend, I always had the opinion of you that
+you have now expressed for yourself—that you are a very great sinner.”
+Coming from himself, it was all very well, but coming from a stranger
+it was rather cutting. The slaveholders felt that when slavery was
+denounced among themselves, it was not so bad; but let one of the
+slaves get loose, let him summon the people of Britain, and make known
+to them the conduct of the slaveholders toward their slaves, and it
+cuts them to the quick, and produces a sensation such as would be
+produced by nothing else. The power I exert now is something like the
+power that is exerted by the man at the end of the lever; my influence
+now is just in proportion to the distance that I am from the United
+States. My exposure of slavery abroad will tell more upon the hearts
+and consciences of slaveholders, than if I was attacking them in
+America; for almost every paper that I now receive from the United
+States, comes teeming with statements about this fugitive Negro,
+calling him a “glib-tongued scoundrel,” and saying that he is running
+out against the institutions and people of America. I deny the charge
+that I am saying a word against the institutions of America, or the
+people, as such. What I have to say is against slavery and
+slaveholders. I feel at liberty to speak on this subject. I have on my
+back the marks of the lash; I have four sisters and one brother now
+under the galling chain. I feel it my duty to cry aloud and spare not.
+I am not averse to having the good opinion of my fellow creatures. I am
+not averse to being kindly regarded by all men; but I am bound, even at
+the hazard of making a large class of religionists in this country hate
+me, oppose me, and malign me as they have done—I am bound by the
+prayers, and tears, and entreaties of three millions of kneeling
+bondsmen, to have no compromise with men who are in any shape or form
+connected with the slaveholders of America. I expose slavery in this
+country, because to expose it is to kill it. Slavery is one of those
+monsters of darkness to whom the light of truth is death. Expose
+slavery, and it dies. Light is to slavery what the heat of the sun is
+to the root of a tree; it must die under it. All the slaveholder asks
+of me is silence. He does not ask me to go abroad and preach _in favor_
+of slavery; he does not ask any one to do that. He would not say that
+slavery is a good thing, but the best under the circumstances. The
+slaveholders want total darkness on the subject. They want the hatchway
+shut down, that the monster may crawl in his den of darkness, crushing
+human hopes and happiness, destroying the bondman at will, and having
+no one to reprove or rebuke him. Slavery shrinks from the light; it
+hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest its deeds should be
+reproved. To tear off the mask from this abominable system, to expose
+it to the light of heaven, aye, to the heat of the sun, that it may
+burn and wither it out of existence, is my object in coming to this
+country. I want the slaveholder surrounded, as by a wall of
+anti-slavery fire, so that he may see the condemnation of himself and
+his system glaring down in letters of light. I want him to feel that he
+has no sympathy in England, Scotland, or Ireland; that he has none in
+Canada, none in Mexico, none among the poor wild Indians; that the
+voice of the civilized, aye, and savage world is against him. I would
+have condemnation blaze down upon him in every direction, till, stunned
+and overwhelmed with shame and confusion, he is compelled to let go the
+grasp he holds upon the persons of his victims, and restore them to
+their long-lost rights.
+
+
+
+
+Dr. Campbell’s Reply
+
+
+From Rev. Dr. Campbell’s brilliant reply we extract the following:
+FREDERICK DOUGLASS, “the beast of burden,” the portion of “goods and
+chattels,” the representative of three millions of men, has been raised
+up! Shall I say the _man?_ If there is a man on earth, he is a man. My
+blood boiled within me when I heard his address tonight, and thought
+that he had left behind him three millions of such men.
+
+We must see more of this man; we must have more of this man. One would
+have taken a voyage round the globe some forty years back—especially
+since the introduction of steam—to have heard such an exposure of
+slavery from the lips of a slave. It will be an era in the individual
+history of the present assembly. Our children—our boys and girls—I have
+tonight seen the delightful sympathy of their hearts evinced by their
+heaving breasts, while their eyes sparkled with wonder and admiration,
+that this black man—this slave—had so much logic, so much wit, so much
+fancy, so much eloquence. He was something more than a man, according
+to their little notions. Then, I say, we must hear him again. We have
+got a purpose to accomplish. He has appealed to the pulpit of England.
+The English pulpit is with him. He has appealed to the press of
+England; the press of England is conducted by English hearts, and that
+press will do him justice. About ten days hence, and his second master,
+who may well prize “such a piece of goods,” will have the pleasure of
+reading his burning words, and his first master will bless himself that
+he has got quit of him. We have to create public opinion, or rather,
+not to create it, for it is created already; but we have to foster it;
+and when tonight I heard those magnificent words—the words of Curran,
+by which my heart, from boyhood, has ofttimes been deeply moved—I
+rejoice to think that they embody an instinct of an Englishman’s
+nature. I heard, with inexpressible delight, how they told on this
+mighty mass of the citizens of the metropolis.
+
+Britain has now no slaves; we can therefore talk to the other nations
+now, as we could not have talked a dozen years ago. I want the whole of
+the London ministry to meet Douglass. For as his appeal is to England,
+and throughout England, I should rejoice in the idea of churchmen and
+dissenters merging all sectional distinctions in this cause. Let us
+have a public breakfast. Let the ministers meet him; let them hear him;
+let them grasp his hand; and let him enlist their sympathies on behalf
+of the slave. Let him inspire them with abhorrence of the
+man-stealer—the slaveholder. No slaveholding American shall ever my
+cross my door. No slaveholding or slavery-supporting minister shall
+ever pollute my pulpit. While I have a tongue to speak, or a hand to
+write, I will, to the utmost of my power, oppose these slaveholding
+men. We must have Douglass amongst us to aid in fostering public
+opinion.
+
+The great conflict with slavery must now take place in America; and
+while they are adding other slave states to the Union, our business is
+to step forward and help the abolitionists there. It is a pleasing
+circumstance that such a body of men has risen in America, and whilst
+we hurl our thunders against her slavers, let us make a distinction
+between those who advocate slavery and those who oppose it. George
+Thompson has been there. This man, Frederick Douglass, has been there,
+and has been compelled to flee. I wish, when he first set foot on our
+shores, he had made a solemn vow, and said, “Now that I am free, and in
+the sanctuary of freedom, I will never return till I have seen the
+emancipation of my country completed.” He wants to surround these men,
+the slaveholders, as by a wall of fire; and he himself may do much
+toward kindling it. Let him travel over the island—east, west, north,
+and south—everywhere diffusing knowledge and awakening principle, till
+the whole nation become a body of petitioners to America. He will, he
+must, do it. He must for a season make England his home. He must send
+for his wife. He must send for his children. I want to see the sons and
+daughters of such a sire. We, too, must do something for him and them
+worthy of the English name. I do not like the idea of a man of such
+mental dimensions, such moral courage, and all but incomparable talent,
+having his own small wants, and the wants of a distant wife and
+children, supplied by the poor profits of his publication, the sketch
+of his life. Let the pamphlet be bought by tens of thousands. But we
+will do something more for him, shall we not?
+
+It only remains that we pass a resolution of thanks to Frederick
+Douglass, the slave that was, the man that is! He that was covered with
+chains, and that is now being covered with glory, and whom we will send
+back a gentleman.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER TO HIS OLD MASTER. 11. To My Old Master, Thomas Auld
+
+
+SIR—The long and intimate, though by no means friendly, relation which
+unhappily subsisted between you and myself, leads me to hope that you
+will easily account for the great liberty which I now take in
+addressing you in this open and public manner. The same fact may remove
+any disagreeable surprise which you may experience on again finding
+your name coupled with mine, in any other way than in an advertisement,
+accurately describing my person, and offering a large sum for my
+arrest. In thus dragging you again before the public, I am aware that I
+shall subject myself to no inconsiderable amount of censure. I shall
+probably be charged with an unwarrantable, if not a wanton and reckless
+disregard of the rights and properties of private life. There are those
+north as well as south who entertain a much higher respect for rights
+which are merely conventional, than they do for rights which are
+personal and essential. Not a few there are in our country, who, while
+they have no scruples against robbing the laborer of the hard earned
+results of his patient industry, will be shocked by the extremely
+indelicate manner of bringing your name before the public. Believing
+this to be the case, and wishing to meet every reasonable or plausible
+objection to my conduct, I will frankly state the ground upon which I
+justfy(sic) myself in this instance, as well as on former occasions
+when I have thought proper to mention your name in public. All will
+agree that a man guilty of theft, robbery, or murder, has forfeited the
+right to concealment and private life; that the community have a right
+to subject such persons to the most complete exposure. However much
+they may desire retirement, and aim to conceal themselves and their
+movements from the popular gaze, the public have a right to ferret them
+out, and bring their conduct before the proper tribunals of the country
+for investigation. Sir, you will undoubtedly make the proper
+application of these generally admitted principles, and will easily see
+the light in which you are regarded by me; I will not therefore
+manifest ill temper, by calling you hard names. I know you to be a man
+of some intelligence, and can readily determine the precise estimate
+which I entertain of your character. I may therefore indulge in
+language which may seem to others indirect and ambiguous, and yet be
+quite well understood by yourself.
+
+I have selected this day on which to address you, because it is the
+anniversary of my emancipation; and knowing no better way, I am led to
+this as the best mode of celebrating that truly important events. Just
+ten years ago this beautiful September morning, yon bright sun beheld
+me a slave—a poor degraded chattel—trembling at the sound of your
+voice, lamenting that I was a man, and wishing myself a brute. The
+hopes which I had treasured up for weeks of a safe and successful
+escape from your grasp, were powerfully confronted at this last hour by
+dark clouds of doubt and fear, making my person shake and my bosom to
+heave with the heavy contest between hope and fear. I have no words to
+describe to you the deep agony of soul which I experienced on that
+never-to-be-forgotten morning—for I left by daylight. I was making a
+leap in the dark. The probabilities, so far as I could by reason
+determine them, were stoutly against the undertaking. The preliminaries
+and precautions I had adopted previously, all worked badly. I was like
+one going to war without weapons—ten chances of defeat to one of
+victory. One in whom I had confided, and one who had promised me
+assistance, appalled by fear at the trial hour, deserted me, thus
+leaving the responsibility of success or failure solely with myself.
+You, sir, can never know my feelings. As I look back to them, I can
+scarcely realize that I have passed through a scene so trying. Trying,
+however, as they were, and gloomy as was the prospect, thanks be to the
+Most High, who is ever the God of the oppressed, at the moment which
+was to determine my whole earthly career, His grace was sufficient; my
+mind was made up. I embraced the golden opportunity, took the morning
+tide at the flood, and a free man, young, active, and strong, is the
+result.
+
+I have often thought I should like to explain to you the grounds upon
+which I have justified myself in running away from you. I am almost
+ashamed to do so now, for by this time you may have discovered them
+yourself. I will, however, glance at them. When yet but a child about
+six years old, I imbibed the determination to run away. The very first
+mental effort that I now remember on my part, was an attempt to solve
+the mystery—why am I a slave? and with this question my youthful mind
+was troubled for many days, pressing upon me more heavily at times than
+others. When I saw the slave-driver whip a slave-woman, cut the blood
+out of her neck, and heard her piteous cries, I went away into the
+corner of the fence, wept and pondered over the mystery. I had, through
+some medium, I know not what, got some idea of God, the Creator of all
+mankind, the black and the white, and that he had made the blacks to
+serve the whites as slaves. How he could do this and be _good_, I could
+not tell. I was not satisfied with this theory, which made God
+responsible for slavery, for it pained me greatly, and I have wept over
+it long and often. At one time, your first wife, Mrs. Lucretia, heard
+me sighing and saw me shedding tears, and asked of me the matter, but I
+was afraid to tell her. I was puzzled with this question, till one
+night while sitting in the kitchen, I heard some of the old slaves
+talking of their parents having been stolen from Africa by white men,
+and were sold here as slaves. The whole mystery was solved at once.
+Very soon after this, my Aunt Jinny and Uncle Noah ran away, and the
+great noise made about it by your father-in-law, made me for the first
+time acquainted with the fact, that there were free states as well as
+slave states. From that time, I resolved that I would some day run
+away. The morality of the act I dispose of as follows: I am myself; you
+are yourself; we are two distinct persons, equal persons. What you are,
+I am. You are a man, and so am I. God created both, and made us
+separate beings. I am not by nature bond to you, or you to me. Nature
+does not make your existence depend upon me, or mine to depend upon
+yours. I cannot walk upon your legs, or you upon mine. I cannot breathe
+for you, or you for me; I must breathe for myself, and you for
+yourself. We are distinct persons, and are each equally provided with
+faculties necessary to our individual existence. In leaving you, I took
+nothing but what belonged to me, and in no way lessened your means for
+obtaining an _honest_ living. Your faculties remained yours, and mine
+became useful to their rightful owner. I therefore see no wrong in any
+part of the transaction. It is true, I went off secretly; but that was
+more your fault than mine. Had I let you into the secret, you would
+have defeated the enterprise entirely; but for this, I should have been
+really glad to have made you acquainted with my intentions to leave.
+
+You may perhaps want to know how I like my present condition. I am free
+to say, I greatly prefer it to that which I occupied in Maryland. I am,
+however, by no means prejudiced against the state as such. Its
+geography, climate, fertility, and products, are such as to make it a
+very desirable abode for any man; and but for the existence of slavery
+there, it is not impossible that I might again take up my abode in that
+state. It is not that I love Maryland less, but freedom more. You will
+be surprised to learn that people at the north labor under the strange
+delusion that if the slaves were emancipated at the south, they would
+flock to the north. So far from this being the case, in that event, you
+would see many old and familiar faces back again to the south. The fact
+is, there are few here who would not return to the south in the event
+of emancipation. We want to live in the land of our birth, and to lay
+our bones by the side of our fathers; and nothing short of an intense
+love of personal freedom keeps us from the south. For the sake of this,
+most of us would live on a crust of bread and a cup of cold water.
+
+Since I left you, I have had a rich experience. I have occupied
+stations which I never dreamed of when a slave. Three out of the ten
+years since I left you, I spent as a common laborer on the wharves of
+New Bedford, Massachusetts. It was there I earned my first free dollar.
+It was mine. I could spend it as I pleased. I could buy hams or herring
+with it, without asking any odds of anybody. That was a precious dollar
+to me. You remember when I used to make seven, or eight, or even nine
+dollars a week in Baltimore, you would take every cent of it from me
+every Saturday night, saying that I belonged to you, and my earnings
+also. I never liked this conduct on your part—to say the best, I
+thought it a little mean. I would not have served you so. But let that
+pass. I was a little awkward about counting money in New England
+fashion when I first landed in New Bedford. I came near betraying
+myself several times. I caught myself saying phip, for fourpence; and
+at one time a man actually charged me with being a runaway, whereupon I
+was silly enough to become one by running away from him, for I was
+greatly afraid he might adopt measures to get me again into slavery, a
+condition I then dreaded more than death.
+
+I soon learned, however, to count money, as well as to make it, and got
+on swimmingly. I married soon after leaving you; in fact, I was engaged
+to be married before I left you; and instead of finding my companion a
+burden, she was truly a helpmate. She went to live at service, and I to
+work on the wharf, and though we toiled hard the first winter, we never
+lived more happily. After remaining in New Bedford for three years, I
+met with William Lloyd Garrison, a person of whom you have _possibly_
+heard, as he is pretty generally known among slaveholders. He put it
+into my head that I might make myself serviceable to the cause of the
+slave, by devoting a portion of my time to telling my own sorrows, and
+those of other slaves, which had come under my observation. This was
+the commencement of a higher state of existence than any to which I had
+ever aspired. I was thrown into society the most pure, enlightened, and
+benevolent, that the country affords. Among these I have never
+forgotten you, but have invariably made you the topic of
+conversation—thus giving you all the notoriety I could do. I need not
+tell you that the opinion formed of you in these circles is far from
+being favorable. They have little respect for your honesty, and less
+for your religion.
+
+But I was going on to relate to you something of my interesting
+experience. I had not long enjoyed the excellent society to which I
+have referred, before the light of its excellence exerted a beneficial
+influence on my mind and heart. Much of my early dislike of white
+persons was removed, and their manners, habits, and customs, so
+entirely unlike what I had been used to in the kitchen-quarters on the
+plantations of the south, fairly charmed me, and gave me a strong
+disrelish for the coarse and degrading customs of my former condition.
+I therefore made an effort so to improve my mind and deportment, as to
+be somewhat fitted to the station to which I seemed almost
+providentially called. The transition from degradation to
+respectability was indeed great, and to get from one to the other
+without carrying some marks of one’s former condition, is truly a
+difficult matter. I would not have you think that I am now entirely
+clear of all plantation peculiarities, but my friends here, while they
+entertain the strongest dislike to them, regard me with that charity to
+which my past life somewhat entitles me, so that my condition in this
+respect is exceedingly pleasant. So far as my domestic affairs are
+concerned, I can boast of as comfortable a dwelling as your own. I have
+an industrious and neat companion, and four dear children—the oldest a
+girl of nine years, and three fine boys, the oldest eight, the next
+six, and the youngest four years old. The three oldest are now going
+regularly to school—two can read and write, and the other can spell,
+with tolerable correctness, words of two syllables. Dear fellows! they
+are all in comfortable beds, and are sound asleep, perfectly secure
+under my own roof. There are no slaveholders here to rend my heart by
+snatching them from my arms, or blast a mother’s dearest hopes by
+tearing them from her bosom. These dear children are ours—not to work
+up into rice, sugar, and tobacco, but to watch over, regard, and
+protect, and to rear them up in the nurture and admonition of the
+gospel—to train them up in the paths of wisdom and virtue, and, as far
+as we can, to make them useful to the world and to themselves. Oh! sir,
+a slaveholder never appears to me so completely an agent of hell, as
+when I think of and look upon my dear children. It is then that my
+feelings rise above my control. I meant to have said more with respect
+to my own prosperity and happiness, but thoughts and feelings which
+this recital has quickened, unfit me to proceed further in that
+direction. The grim horrors of slavery rise in all their ghastly terror
+before me; the wails of millions pierce my heart and chill my blood. I
+remember the chain, the gag, the bloody whip; the death-like gloom
+overshadowing the broken spirit of the fettered bondman; the appalling
+liability of his being torn away from wife and children, and sold like
+a beast in the market. Say not that this is a picture of fancy. You
+well know that I wear stripes on my back, inflicted by your direction;
+and that you, while we were brothers in the same church, caused this
+right hand, with which I am now penning this letter, to be closely tied
+to my left, and my person dragged, at the pistol’s mouth, fifteen
+miles, from the Bay Side to Easton, to be sold like a beast in the
+market, for the alleged crime of intending to escape from your
+possession. All this, and more, you remember, and know to be perfectly
+true, not only of yourself, but of nearly all of the slaveholders
+around you.
+
+At this moment, you are probably the guilty holder of at least three of
+my own dear sisters, and my only brother, in bondage. These you regard
+as your property. They are recorded on your ledger, or perhaps have
+been sold to human flesh-mongers, with a view to filling our own
+ever-hungry purse. Sir, I desire to know how and where these dear
+sisters are. Have you sold them? or are they still in your possession?
+What has become of them? are they living or dead? And my dear old
+grandmother, whom you turned out like an old horse to die in the
+woods—is she still alive? Write and let me know all about them. If my
+grandmother be still alive, she is of no service to you, for by this
+time she must be nearly eighty years old—too old to be cared for by one
+to whom she has ceased to be of service; send her to me at Rochester,
+or bring her to Philadelphia, and it shall be the crowning happiness of
+my life to take care of her in her old age. Oh! she was to me a mother
+and a father, so far as hard toil for my comfort could make her such.
+Send me my grandmother! that I may watch over and take care of her in
+her old age. And my sisters—let me know all about them. I would write
+to them, and learn all I want to know of them, without disturbing you
+in any way, but that, through your unrighteous conduct, they have been
+entirely deprived of the power to read and write. You have kept them in
+utter ignorance, and have therefore robbed them of the sweet enjoyments
+of writing or receiving letters from absent friends and relatives. Your
+wickedness and cruelty, committed in this respect on your
+fellow-creatures, are greater than all the stripes you have laid upon
+my back or theirs. It is an outrage upon the soul, a war upon the
+immortal spirit, and one for which you must give account at the bar of
+our common Father and Creator.
+
+The responsibility which you have assumed in this regard is truly
+awful, and how you could stagger under it these many years is
+marvelous. Your mind must have become darkened, your heart hardened,
+your conscience seared and petrified, or you would have long since
+thrown off the accursed load, and sought relief at the hands of a
+sin-forgiving God. How, let me ask, would you look upon me, were I,
+some dark night, in company with a band of hardened villains, to enter
+the precincts of your elegant dwelling, and seize the person of your
+own lovely daughter, Amanda, and carry her off from your family,
+friends, and all the loved ones of her youth—make her my slave—compel
+her to work, and I take her wages—place her name on my ledger as
+property—disregard her personal rights—fetter the powers of her
+immortal soul by denying her the right and privilege of learning to
+read and write—feed her coarsely—clothe her scantily, and whip her on
+the naked back occasionally; more, and still more horrible, leave her
+unprotected—a degraded victim to the brutal lust of fiendish overseers,
+who would pollute, blight, and blast her fair soul—rob her of all
+dignity—destroy her virtue, and annihilate in her person all the graces
+that adorn the character of virtuous womanhood? I ask, how would you
+regard me, if such were my conduct? Oh! the vocabulary of the damned
+would not afford a word sufficiently infernal to express your idea of
+my God-provoking wickedness. Yet, sir, your treatment of my beloved
+sisters is in all essential points precisely like the case I have now
+supposed. Damning as would be such a deed on my part, it would be no
+more so than that which you have committed against me and my sisters.
+
+I will now bring this letter to a close; you shall hear from me again
+unless you let me hear from you. I intend to make use of you as a
+weapon with which to assail the system of slavery—as a means of
+concentrating public attention on the system, and deepening the horror
+of trafficking in the souls and bodies of men. I shall make use of you
+as a means of exposing the character of the American church and
+clergy—and as a means of bringing this guilty nation, with yourself, to
+repentance. In doing this, I entertain no malice toward you personally.
+There is no roof under which you would be more safe than mine, and
+there is nothing in my house which you might need for your comfort,
+which I would not readily grant. Indeed, I should esteem it a privilege
+to set you an example as to how mankind ought to treat each other.
+
+I am your fellow-man, but not your slave.
+
+
+
+
+THE NATURE OF SLAVERY. Extract from a Lecture on Slavery, at Rochester,
+
+
+December 1, 1850
+
+More than twenty years of my life were consumed in a state of slavery.
+My childhood was environed by the baneful peculiarities of the slave
+system. I grew up to manhood in the presence of this hydra headed
+monster—not as a master—not as an idle spectator—not as the guest of
+the slaveholder—but as A SLAVE, eating the bread and drinking the cup
+of slavery with the most degraded of my brother-bondmen, and sharing
+with them all the painful conditions of their wretched lot. In
+consideration of these facts, I feel that I have a right to speak, and
+to speak _strongly_. Yet, my friends, I feel bound to speak truly.
+
+Goading as have been the cruelties to which I have been
+subjected—bitter as have been the trials through which I have
+passed—exasperating as have been, and still are, the indignities
+offered to my manhood—I find in them no excuse for the slightest
+departure from truth in dealing with any branch of this subject.
+
+First of all, I will state, as well as I can, the legal and social
+relation of master and slave. A master is one—to speak in the
+vocabulary of the southern states—who claims and exercises a right of
+property in the person of a fellow-man. This he does with the force of
+the law and the sanction of southern religion. The law gives the master
+absolute power over the slave. He may work him, flog him, hire him out,
+sell him, and, in certain contingencies, _kill_ him, with perfect
+impunity. The slave is a human being, divested of all rights—reduced to
+the level of a brute—a mere “chattel” in the eye of the law—placed
+beyond the circle of human brotherhood—cut off from his kind—his name,
+which the “recording angel” may have enrolled in heaven, among the
+blest, is impiously inserted in a _master’s ledger_, with horses,
+sheep, and swine. In law, the slave has no wife, no children, no
+country, and no home. He can own nothing, possess nothing, acquire
+nothing, but what must belong to another. To eat the fruit of his own
+toil, to clothe his person with the work of his own hands, is
+considered stealing. He toils that another may reap the fruit; he is
+industrious that another may live in idleness; he eats unbolted meal
+that another may eat the bread of fine flour; he labors in chains at
+home, under a burning sun and biting lash, that another may ride in
+ease and splendor abroad; he lives in ignorance that another may be
+educated; he is abused that another may be exalted; he rests his
+toil-worn limbs on the cold, damp ground that another may repose on the
+softest pillow; he is clad in coarse and tattered raiment that another
+may be arrayed in purple and fine linen; he is sheltered only by the
+wretched hovel that a master may dwell in a magnificent mansion; and to
+this condition he is bound down as by an arm of iron.
+
+From this monstrous relation there springs an unceasing stream of most
+revolting cruelties. The very accompaniments of the slave system stamp
+it as the offspring of hell itself. To ensure good behavior, the
+slaveholder relies on the whip; to induce proper humility, he relies on
+the whip; to rebuke what he is pleased to term insolence, he relies on
+the whip; to supply the place of wages as an incentive to toil, he
+relies on the whip; to bind down the spirit of the slave, to imbrute
+and destroy his manhood, he relies on the whip, the chain, the gag, the
+thumb-screw, the pillory, the bowie knife the pistol, and the
+blood-hound. These are the necessary and unvarying accompaniments of
+the system. Wherever slavery is found, these horrid instruments are
+also found. Whether on the coast of Africa, among the savage tribes, or
+in South Carolina, among the refined and civilized, slavery is the
+same, and its accompaniments one and the same. It makes no difference
+whether the slaveholder worships the God of the Christians, or is a
+follower of Mahomet, he is the minister of the same cruelty, and the
+author of the same misery. _Slavery_ is always _slavery;_ always the
+same foul, haggard, and damning scourge, whether found in the eastern
+or in the western hemisphere.
+
+There is a still deeper shade to be given to this picture. The physical
+cruelties are indeed sufficiently harassing and revolting; but they are
+as a few grains of sand on the sea shore, or a few drops of water in
+the great ocean, compared with the stupendous wrongs which it inflicts
+upon the mental, moral, and religious nature of its hapless victims. It
+is only when we contemplate the slave as a moral and intellectual
+being, that we can adequately comprehend the unparalleled enormity of
+slavery, and the intense criminality of the slaveholder. I have said
+that the slave was a man. “What a piece of work is man! How noble in
+reason! How infinite in faculties! In form and moving how express and
+admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a God!
+The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals!”
+
+The slave is a man, “the image of God,” but “a little lower than the
+angels;” possessing a soul, eternal and indestructible; capable of
+endless happiness, or immeasurable woe; a creature of hopes and fears,
+of affections and passions, of joys and sorrows, and he is endowed with
+those mysterious powers by which man soars above the things of time and
+sense, and grasps, with undying tenacity, the elevating and sublimely
+glorious idea of a God. It is _such_ a being that is smitten and
+blasted. The first work of slavery is to mar and deface those
+characteristics of its victims which distinguish _men_ from _things_,
+and _persons_ from _property_. Its first aim is to destroy all sense of
+high moral and religious responsibility. It reduces man to a mere
+machine. It cuts him off from his Maker, it hides from him the laws of
+God, and leaves him to grope his way from time to eternity in the dark,
+under the arbitrary and despotic control of a frail, depraved, and
+sinful fellow-man. As the serpent-charmer of India is compelled to
+extract the deadly teeth of his venomous prey before he is able to
+handle him with impunity, so the slaveholder must strike down the
+conscience of the slave before he can obtain the entire mastery over
+his victim.
+
+It is, then, the first business of the enslaver of men to blunt,
+deaden, and destroy the central principle of human responsibility.
+Conscience is, to the individual soul, and to society, what the law of
+gravitation is to the universe. It holds society together; it is the
+basis of all trust and confidence; it is the pillar of all moral
+rectitude. Without it, suspicion would take the place of trust; vice
+would be more than a match for virtue; men would prey upon each other,
+like the wild beasts of the desert; and earth would become a _hell_.
+
+Nor is slavery more adverse to the conscience than it is to the mind.
+This is shown by the fact, that in every state of the American Union,
+where slavery exists, except the state of Kentucky, there are laws
+absolutely prohibitory of education among the slaves. The crime of
+teaching a slave to read is punishable with severe fines and
+imprisonment, and, in some instances, with _death itself_.
+
+Nor are the laws respecting this matter a dead letter. Cases may occur
+in which they are disregarded, and a few instances may be found where
+slaves may have learned to read; but such are isolated cases, and only
+prove the rule. The great mass of slaveholders look upon education
+among the slaves as utterly subversive of the slave system. I well
+remember when my mistress first announced to my master that she had
+discovered that I could read. His face colored at once with surprise
+and chagrin. He said that “I was ruined, and my value as a slave
+destroyed; that a slave should know nothing but to obey his master;
+that to give a negro an inch would lead him to take an ell; that having
+learned how to read, I would soon want to know how to write; and that
+by-and-by I would be running away.” I think my audience will bear
+witness to the correctness of this philosophy, and to the literal
+fulfillment of this prophecy.
+
+It is perfectly well understood at the south, that to educate a slave
+is to make him discontened(sic) with slavery, and to invest him with a
+power which shall open to him the treasures of freedom; and since the
+object of the slaveholder is to maintain complete authority over his
+slave, his constant vigilance is exercised to prevent everything which
+militates against, or endangers, the stability of his authority.
+Education being among the menacing influences, and, perhaps, the most
+dangerous, is, therefore, the most cautiously guarded against.
+
+It is true that we do not often hear of the enforcement of the law,
+punishing as a crime the teaching of slaves to read, but this is not
+because of a want of disposition to enforce it. The true reason or
+explanation of the matter is this: there is the greatest unanimity of
+opinion among the white population in the south in favor of the policy
+of keeping the slave in ignorance. There is, perhaps, another reason
+why the law against education is so seldom violated. The slave is too
+poor to be able to offer a temptation sufficiently strong to induce a
+white man to violate it; and it is not to be supposed that in a
+community where the moral and religious sentiment is in favor of
+slavery, many martyrs will be found sacrificing their liberty and lives
+by violating those prohibitory enactments.
+
+As a general rule, then, darkness reigns over the abodes of the
+enslaved, and “how great is that darkness!”
+
+We are sometimes told of the contentment of the slaves, and are
+entertained with vivid pictures of their happiness. We are told that
+they often dance and sing; that their masters frequently give them
+wherewith to make merry; in fine, that they have little of which to
+complain. I admit that the slave does sometimes sing, dance, and appear
+to be merry. But what does this prove? It only proves to my mind, that
+though slavery is armed with a thousand stings, it is not able entirely
+to kill the elastic spirit of the bondman. That spirit will rise and
+walk abroad, despite of whips and chains, and extract from the cup of
+nature occasional drops of joy and gladness. No thanks to the
+slaveholder, nor to slavery, that the vivacious captive may sometimes
+dance in his chains; his very mirth in such circumstances stands before
+God as an accusing angel against his enslaver.
+
+It is often said, by the opponents of the anti-slavery cause, that the
+condition of the people of Ireland is more deplorable than that of the
+American slaves. Far be it from me to underrate the sufferings of the
+Irish people. They have been long oppressed; and the same heart that
+prompts me to plead the cause of the American bondman, makes it
+impossible for me not to sympathize with the oppressed of all lands.
+Yet I must say that there is no analogy between the two cases. The
+Irishman is poor, but he is not a slave. He may be in rags, but he is
+not a slave. He is still the master of his own body, and can say with
+the poet, “The hand of Douglass is his own.” “The world is all before
+him, where to choose;” and poor as may be my opinion of the British
+parliament, I cannot believe that it will ever sink to such a depth of
+infamy as to pass a law for the recapture of fugitive Irishmen! The
+shame and scandal of kidnapping will long remain wholly monopolized by
+the American congress. The Irishman has not only the liberty to
+emigrate from his country, but he has liberty at home. He can write,
+and speak, and cooperate for the attainment of his rights and the
+redress of his wrongs.
+
+The multitude can assemble upon all the green hills and fertile plains
+of the Emerald Isle; they can pour out their grievances, and proclaim
+their wants without molestation; and the press, that “swift-winged
+messenger,” can bear the tidings of their doings to the extreme bounds
+of the civilized world. They have their “Conciliation Hall,” on the
+banks of the Liffey, their reform clubs, and their newspapers; they
+pass resolutions, send forth addresses, and enjoy the right of
+petition. But how is it with the American slave? Where may he assemble?
+Where is his Conciliation Hall? Where are his newspapers? Where is his
+right of petition? Where is his freedom of speech? his liberty of the
+press? and his right of locomotion? He is said to be happy; happy men
+can speak. But ask the slave what is his condition—what his state of
+mind—what he thinks of enslavement? and you had as well address your
+inquiries to the _silent dead_. There comes no _voice_ from the
+enslaved. We are left to gather his feelings by imagining what ours
+would be, were our souls in his soul’s stead.
+
+If there were no other fact descriptive of slavery, than that the slave
+is dumb, this alone would be sufficient to mark the slave system as a
+grand aggregation of human horrors.
+
+Most who are present, will have observed that leading men in this
+country have been putting forth their skill to secure quiet to the
+nation. A system of measures to promote this object was adopted a few
+months ago in congress. The result of those measures is known. Instead
+of quiet, they have produced alarm; instead of peace, they have brought
+us war; and so it must ever be.
+
+While this nation is guilty of the enslavement of three millions of
+innocent men and women, it is as idle to think of having a sound and
+lasting peace, as it is to think there is no God to take cognizance of
+the affairs of men. There can be no peace to the wicked while slavery
+continues in the land. It will be condemned; and while it is condemned
+there will be agitation. Nature must cease to be nature; men must
+become monsters; humanity must be transformed; Christianity must be
+exterminated; all ideas of justice and the laws of eternal goodness
+must be utterly blotted out from the human soul—ere a system so foul
+and infernal can escape condemnation, or this guilty republic can have
+a sound, enduring peace.
+
+
+
+
+INHUMANITY OF SLAVERY. Extract from A Lecture on Slavery, at Rochester,
+
+
+December 8, 1850
+
+The relation of master and slave has been called patriarchal, and only
+second in benignity and tenderness to that of the parent and child.
+This representation is doubtless believed by many northern people; and
+this may account, in part, for the lack of interest which we find among
+persons whom we are bound to believe to be honest and humane. What,
+then, are the facts? Here I will not quote my own experience in
+slavery; for this you might call one-sided testimony. I will not cite
+the declarations of abolitionists; for these you might pronounce
+exaggerations. I will not rely upon advertisements cut from newspapers;
+for these you might call isolated cases. But I will refer you to the
+laws adopted by the legislatures of the slave states. I give you such
+evidence, because it cannot be invalidated nor denied. I hold in my
+hand sundry extracts from the slave codes of our country, from which I
+will quote. * * *
+
+Now, if the foregoing be an indication of kindness, _what is cruelty_?
+If this be parental affection, _what is bitter malignity_? A more
+atrocious and blood-thirsty string of laws could not well be conceived
+of. And yet I am bound to say that they fall short of indicating the
+horrible cruelties constantly practiced in the slave states.
+
+I admit that there are individual slaveholders less cruel and barbarous
+than is allowed by law; but these form the exception. The majority of
+slaveholders find it necessary, to insure obedience, at times, to avail
+themselves of the utmost extent of the law, and many go beyond it. If
+kindness were the rule, we should not see advertisements filling the
+columns of almost every southern newspaper, offering large rewards for
+fugitive slaves, and describing them as being branded with irons,
+loaded with chains, and scarred by the whip. One of the most telling
+testimonies against the pretended kindness of slaveholders, is the fact
+that uncounted numbers of fugitives are now inhabiting the Dismal
+Swamp, preferring the untamed wilderness to their cultivated
+homes—choosing rather to encounter hunger and thirst, and to roam with
+the wild beasts of the forest, running the hazard of being hunted and
+shot down, than to submit to the authority of _kind_ masters.
+
+I tell you, my friends, humanity is never driven to such an unnatural
+course of life, without great wrong. The slave finds more of the milk
+of human kindness in the bosom of the savage Indian, than in the heart
+of his _Christian_ master. He leaves the man of the _bible_, and takes
+refuge with the man of the _tomahawk_. He rushes from the praying
+slaveholder into the paws of the bear. He quits the homes of men for
+the haunts of wolves. He prefers to encounter a life of trial, however
+bitter, or death, however terrible, to dragging out his existence under
+the dominion of these _kind_ masters.
+
+The apologists for slavery often speak of the abuses of slavery; and
+they tell us that they are as much opposed to those abuses as we are;
+and that they would go as far to correct those abuses and to ameliorate
+the condition of the slave as anybody. The answer to that view is, that
+slavery is itself an abuse; that it lives by abuse; and dies by the
+absence of abuse. Grant that slavery is right; grant that the relations
+of master and slave may innocently exist; and there is not a single
+outrage which was ever committed against the slave but what finds an
+apology in the very necessity of the case. As we said by a slaveholder
+(the Rev. A. G. Few) to the Methodist conference, “If the relation be
+right, the means to maintain it are also right;” for without those
+means slavery could not exist. Remove the dreadful scourge—the plaited
+thong—the galling fetter—the accursed chain—and let the slaveholder
+rely solely upon moral and religious power, by which to secure
+obedience to his orders, and how long do you suppose a slave would
+remain on his plantation? The case only needs to be stated; it carries
+its own refutation with it.
+
+Absolute and arbitrary power can never be maintained by one man over
+the body and soul of another man, without brutal chastisement and
+enormous cruelty.
+
+To talk of _kindness_ entering into a relation in which one party is
+robbed of wife, of children, of his hard earnings, of home, of friends,
+of society, of knowledge, and of all that makes this life desirable, is
+most absurd, wicked, and preposterous.
+
+I have shown that slavery is wicked—wicked, in that it violates the
+great law of liberty, written on every human heart—wicked, in that it
+violates the first command of the decalogue—wicked, in that it fosters
+the most disgusting licentiousness—wicked, in that it mars and defaces
+the image of God by cruel and barbarous inflictions—wicked, in that it
+contravenes the laws of eternal justice, and tramples in the dust all
+the humane and heavenly precepts of the New Testament.
+
+The evils resulting from this huge system of iniquity are not confined
+to the states south of Mason and Dixon’s line. Its noxious influence
+can easily be traced throughout our northern borders. It comes even as
+far north as the state of New York. Traces of it may be seen even in
+Rochester; and travelers have told me it casts its gloomy shadows
+across the lake, approaching the very shores of Queen Victoria’s
+dominions.
+
+The presence of slavery may be explained by—as it is the explanation
+of—the mobocratic violence which lately disgraced New York, and which
+still more recently disgraced the city of Boston. These violent
+demonstrations, these outrageous invasions of human rights, faintly
+indicate the presence and power of slavery here. It is a significant
+fact, that while meetings for almost any purpose under heaven may be
+held unmolested in the city of Boston, that in the same city, a meeting
+cannot be peaceably held for the purpose of preaching the doctrine of
+the American Declaration of Independence, “that all men are created
+equal.” The pestiferous breath of slavery taints the whole moral
+atmosphere of the north, and enervates the moral energies of the whole
+people.
+
+The moment a foreigner ventures upon our soil, and utters a natural
+repugnance to oppression, that moment he is made to feel that there is
+little sympathy in this land for him. If he were greeted with smiles
+before, he meets with frowns now; and it shall go well with him if he
+be not subjected to that peculiarly fining method of showing fealty to
+slavery, the assaults of a mob.
+
+Now, will any man tell me that such a state of things is natural, and
+that such conduct on the part of the people of the north, springs from
+a consciousness of rectitude? No! every fibre of the human heart unites
+in detestation of tyranny, and it is only when the human mind has
+become familiarized with slavery, is accustomed to its injustice, and
+corrupted by its selfishness, that it fails to record its abhorrence of
+slavery, and does not exult in the triumphs of liberty.
+
+The northern people have been long connected with slavery; they have
+been linked to a decaying corpse, which has destroyed the moral health.
+The union of the government; the union of the north and south, in the
+political parties; the union in the religious organizations of the
+land, have all served to deaden the moral sense of the northern people,
+and to impregnate them with sentiments and ideas forever in conflict
+with what as a nation we call _genius of American institutions_.
+Rightly viewed, this is an alarming fact, and ought to rally all that
+is pure, just, and holy in one determined effort to crush the monster
+of corruption, and to scatter “its guilty profits” to the winds. In a
+high moral sense, as well as in a national sense, the whole American
+people are responsible for slavery, and must share, in its guilt and
+shame, with the most obdurate men-stealers of the south.
+
+While slavery exists, and the union of these states endures, every
+American citizen must bear the chagrin of hearing his country branded
+before the world as a nation of liars and hypocrites; and behold his
+cherished flag pointed at with the utmost scorn and derision. Even now
+an American _abroad_ is pointed out in the crowd, as coming from a land
+where men gain their fortunes by “the blood of souls,” from a land of
+slave markets, of blood-hounds, and slave-hunters; and, in some
+circles, such a man is shunned altogether, as a moral pest. Is it not
+time, then, for every American to awake, and inquire into his duty with
+respect to this subject?
+
+Wendell Phillips—the eloquent New England orator—on his return from
+Europe, in 1842, said, “As I stood upon the shores of Genoa, and saw
+floating on the placid waters of the Mediterranean, the beautiful
+American war ship Ohio, with her masts tapering proportionately aloft,
+and an eastern sun reflecting her noble form upon the sparkling waters,
+attracting the gaze of the multitude, my first impulse was of pride, to
+think myself an American; but when I thought that the first time that
+gallant ship would gird on her gorgeous apparel, and wake from beneath
+her sides her dormant thunders, it would be in defense of the African
+slave trade, I blushed in utter _shame_ for my country.”
+
+Let me say again, _slavery is alike the sin and the shame of the
+American people;_ it is a blot upon the American name, and the only
+national reproach which need make an American hang his head in shame,
+in the presence of monarchical governments.
+
+With this gigantic evil in the land, we are constantly told to look _at
+home;_ if we say ought against crowned heads, we are pointed to our
+enslaved millions; if we talk of sending missionaries and bibles
+abroad, we are pointed to three millions now lying in worse than
+heathen darkness; if we express a word of sympathy for Kossuth and his
+Hungarian fugitive brethren, we are pointed to that horrible and
+hell-black enactment, “the fugitive slave bill.”
+
+Slavery blunts the edge of all our rebukes of tyranny abroad—the
+criticisms that we make upon other nations, only call forth ridicule,
+contempt, and scorn. In a word, we are made a reproach and a by-word to
+a mocking earth, and we must continue to be so made, so long as slavery
+continues to pollute our soil.
+
+We have heard much of late of the virtue of patriotism, the love of
+country, &c., and this sentiment, so natural and so strong, has been
+impiously appealed to, by all the powers of human selfishness, to
+cherish the viper which is stinging our national life away. In its
+name, we have been called upon to deepen our infamy before the world,
+to rivet the fetter more firmly on the limbs of the enslaved, and to
+become utterly insensible to the voice of human woe that is wafted to
+us on every southern gale. We have been called upon, in its name, to
+desecrate our whole land by the footprints of slave-hunters, and even
+to engage ourselves in the horrible business of kidnapping.
+
+I, too, would invoke the spirit of patriotism; not in a narrow and
+restricted sense, but, I trust, with a broad and manly signification;
+not to cover up our national sins, but to inspire us with sincere
+repentance; not to hide our shame from the the(sic) world’s gaze, but
+utterly to abolish the cause of that shame; not to explain away our
+gross inconsistencies as a nation, but to remove the hateful, jarring,
+and incongruous elements from the land; not to sustain an egregious
+wrong, but to unite all our energies in the grand effort to remedy that
+wrong.
+
+I would invoke the spirit of patriotism, in the name of the law of the
+living God, natural and revealed, and in the full belief that
+“righteousness exalteth a nation, while sin is a reproach to any
+people.” “He that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly; he that
+despiseth the gain of oppressions, that shaketh his hands from the
+holding of bribes, he shall dwell on high, his place of defense shall
+be the munitions of rocks, bread shall be given him, his water shall be
+sure.”
+
+We have not only heard much lately of patriotism, and of its aid being
+invoked on the side of slavery and injustice, but the very prosperity
+of this people has been called in to deafen them to the voice of duty,
+and to lead them onward in the pathway of sin. Thus has the blessing of
+God been converted into a curse. In the spirit of genuine patriotism, I
+warn the American people, by all that is just and honorable, to BEWARE!
+
+I warn them that, strong, proud, and prosperous though we be, there is
+a power above us that can “bring down high looks; at the breath of
+whose mouth our wealth may take wings; and before whom every knee shall
+bow;” and who can tell how soon the avenging angel may pass over our
+land, and the sable bondmen now in chains, may become the instruments
+of our nation’s chastisement! Without appealing to any higher feeling,
+I would warn the American people, and the American government, to be
+wise in their day and generation. I exhort them to remember the history
+of other nations; and I remind them that America cannot always sit “as
+a queen,” in peace and repose; that prouder and stronger governments
+than this have been shattered by the bolts of a just God; that the time
+may come when those they now despise and hate, may be needed; when
+those whom they now compel by oppression to be enemies, may be wanted
+as friends. What has been, may be again. There is a point beyond which
+human endurance cannot go. The crushed worm may yet turn under the heel
+of the oppressor. I warn them, then, with all solemnity, and in the
+name of retributive justice, _to look to their ways;_ for in an evil
+hour, those sable arms that have, for the last two centuries, been
+engaged in cultivating and adorning the fair fields of our country, may
+yet become the instruments of terror, desolation, and death, throughout
+our borders.
+
+It was the sage of the Old Dominion that said—while speaking of the
+possibility of a conflict between the slaves and the slaveholders—“God
+has no attribute that could take sides with the oppressor in such a
+contest. I tremble for my country when I reflect that God _is just_,
+and that his justice cannot sleep forever.” Such is the warning voice
+of Thomas Jefferson; and every day’s experience since its utterance
+until now, confirms its wisdom, and commends its truth.
+
+
+
+
+WHAT TO THE SLAVE IS THE FOURTH OF JULY?. Extract from an Oration, at
+
+
+Rochester, July 5, 1852
+
+Fellow-Citizens—Pardon me, and allow me to ask, why am I called upon to
+speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your
+national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom
+and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence,
+extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble
+offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits, and
+express devout gratitude for the blessings, resulting from your
+independence to us?
+
+Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer
+could be truthfully returned to these questions! Then would my task be
+light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold that
+a nation’s sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the
+claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such
+priceless benefits? Who so stolid and selfish, that would not give his
+voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation’s jubilee, when the chains
+of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case
+like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the “lame man leap as
+an hart.”
+
+But, such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of
+the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this
+glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the
+immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you this day
+rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice,
+liberty, prosperity, and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is
+shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought life and healing to
+you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth of July is
+_yours_, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in
+fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him
+to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious
+irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?
+If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it
+is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up
+to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that
+nation in irrecoverable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament
+of a peeled and woe-smitten people.
+
+“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea! we wept when we
+remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst
+thereof. For there, they that carried us away captive, required of us a
+song; and they who wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one
+of the songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange
+land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her
+cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of
+my mouth.”
+
+Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultous joy, I hear the
+mournful wail of millions, whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday,
+are to-day rendered more intolerable by the jubilant shouts that reach
+them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding
+children of sorrow this day, “may my right hand forget her cunning, and
+may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!” To forget them, to pass
+lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme,
+would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a
+reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens,
+is AMERICAN SLAVERY. I shall see this day and its popular
+characteristics from the slave’s point of view. Standing there,
+identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not
+hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct
+of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this Fourth of July.
+Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions
+of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and
+revolting. America is false to the past, false to the present, and
+solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and
+the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of
+humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered,
+in the name of the constitution and the bible, which are disregarded
+and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all
+the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate
+slavery—the great sin and shame of America! “I will not equivocate; I
+will not excuse;” I will use the severest language I can command; and
+yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not
+blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not
+confess to be right and just.
+
+But I fancy I hear some one of my audience say, it is just in this
+circumstance that you and your brother abolitionists fail to make a
+favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more, and
+denounce less, would you persuade more and rebuke less, your cause
+would be much more likely to succeed. But, I submit, where all is plain
+there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti-slavery creed
+would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of
+this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a
+man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slaveholders
+themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their
+government. They acknowledge it when they punish disobedience on the
+part of the slave. There are seventy-two crimes in the state of
+Virginia, which, if committed by a black man (no matter how ignorant he
+be), subject him to the punishment of death; while only two of these
+same crimes will subject a white man to the like punishment. What is
+this but the acknowledgement that the slave is a moral, intellectual,
+and responsible being. The manhood of the slave is conceded. It is
+admitted in the fact that southern statute books are covered with
+enactments forbidding, under severe fines and penalties, the teaching
+of the slave to read or write. When you can point to any such laws, in
+reference to the beasts of the field, then I may consent to argue the
+manhood of the slave. When the dogs in your streets, when the fowls of
+the air, when the cattle on your hills, when the fish of the sea, and
+the reptiles that crawl, shall be unable to distinguish the slave from
+a brute, then will I argue with you that the slave is a man!
+
+For the present, it is enough to affirm the equal manhood of the Negro
+race. Is it not astonishing that, while we are plowing, planting, and
+reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses,
+constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron,
+copper, silver, and gold; that, while we are reading, writing, and
+cyphering, acting as clerks, merchants, and secretaries, having among
+us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators, and
+teachers; that, while we are engaged in all manner of enterprises
+common to other men—digging gold in California, capturing the whale in
+the Pacific, feeding sheep and cattle on the hillside, living, moving,
+acting, thinking, planning, living in families as husbands, wives, and
+children, and, above all, confessing and worshiping the Christian’s
+God, and looking hopefully for life and immortality beyond the grave—we
+are called upon to prove that we are men!
+
+Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? that he is the
+rightful owner of his own body? You have already declared it. Must I
+argue the wrongfulness of slavery? Is that a question for republicans?
+Is it to be settled by the rules of logic and argumentation, as a
+matter beset with great difficulty, involving a doubtful application of
+the principle of justice, hard to be understood? How should I look
+to-day in the presence of Americans, dividing and subdividing a
+discourse, to show that men have a natural right to freedom, speaking
+of it relatively and positively, negatively and affirmatively? To do
+so, would be to make myself ridiculous, and to offer an insult to your
+understanding. There is not a man beneath the canopy of heaven that
+does not know that slavery is wrong for _him_.
+
+What! am I to argue that it is wrong to make men brutes, to rob them of
+their liberty, to work them without wages, to keep them ignorant of
+their relations to their fellow-men, to beat them with sticks, to flay
+their flesh with the lash, to load their limbs with irons, to hunt them
+with dogs, to sell them at auction, to sunder their families, to knock
+out their teeth, to burn their flesh, to starve them into obedience and
+submission to their masters? Must I argue that a system, thus marked
+with blood and stained with pollution, is wrong? No; I will not. I have
+better employment for my time and strength than such arguments would
+imply.
+
+What, then, remains to be argued? Is it that slavery is not divine;
+that God did not establish it; that our doctors of divinity are
+mistaken? There is blasphemy in the thought. That which is inhuman
+cannot be divine. Who can reason on such a proposition! They that can,
+may! I cannot. The time for such argument is past.
+
+At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is
+needed. Oh! had I the ability, and could I reach the nation’s ear, I
+would to-day pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting
+reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that
+is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need
+the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling of the nation
+must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the
+propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation
+must be exposed; and its crimes against God and man must be proclaimed
+and denounced.
+
+What to the American slave is your Fourth of July? I answer, a day that
+reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross
+injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your
+celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your
+national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty
+and heartless; your denunciations of tyrants, brass-fronted impudence;
+your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and
+hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade
+and solemnity, are to him mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and
+hypocrisy—a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation
+of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more
+shocking and bloody, than are the people of these United States, at
+this very hour.
+
+Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the
+monarchies and despotisms of the old world, travel through South
+America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay
+your facts by the side of the every-day practices of this nation, and
+you will say with me, that, for revolting barbarity and shameless
+hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival.
+
+
+
+
+THE INTERNAL SLAVE TRADE. Extract from an Oration, at Rochester, July
+
+
+5, 1852
+
+Take the American slave trade, which, we are told by the papers, is
+especially prosperous just now. Ex-senator Benton tells us that the
+price of men was never higher than now. He mentions the fact to show
+that slavery is in no danger. This trade is one of the peculiarities of
+American institutions. It is carried on in all the large towns and
+cities in one-half of this confederacy; and millions are pocketed every
+year by dealers in this horrid traffic. In several states this trade is
+a chief source of wealth. It is called (in contradistinction to the
+foreign slave trade) _“the internal slave trade_.” It is, probably,
+called so, too, in order to divert from it the horror with which the
+foreign slave trade is contemplated. That trade has long since been
+denounced by this government as piracy. It has been denounced with
+burning words, from the high places of the nation, as an execrable
+traffic. To arrest it, to put an end to it, this nation keeps a
+squadron, at immense cost, on the coast of Africa. Everywhere in this
+country, it is safe to speak of this foreign slave trade as a most
+inhuman traffic, opposed alike to the laws of God and of man. The duty
+to extirpate and destroy it is admitted even by our _doctors of
+divinity_. In order to put an end to it, some of these last have
+consented that their colored brethren (nominally free) should leave
+this country, and establish themselves on the western coast of Africa.
+It is, however, a notable fact, that, while so much execration is
+poured out by Americans, upon those engaged in the foreign slave trade,
+the men engaged in the slave trade between the states pass without
+condemnation, and their business is deemed honorable.
+
+Behold the practical operation of this internal slave trade—the
+American slave trade sustained by American politics and American
+religion! Here you will see men and women reared like swine for the
+market. You know what is a swine-drover? I will show you a man-drover.
+They inhabit all our southern states. They perambulate the country, and
+crowd the highways of the nation with droves of human stock. You will
+see one of these human-flesh-jobbers, armed with pistol, whip, and
+bowie-knife, driving a company of a hundred men, women, and children,
+from the Potomac to the slave market at New Orleans. These wretched
+people are to be sold singly, or in lots, to suit purchasers. They are
+food for the cotton-field and the deadly sugar-mill. Mark the sad
+procession as it moves wearily along, and the inhuman wretch who drives
+them. Hear his savage yells and his blood-chilling oaths, as he hurries
+on his affrighted captives. There, see the old man, with locks thinned
+and gray. Cast one glance, if you please, upon that young mother, whose
+shoulders are bare to the scorching sun, her briny tears falling on the
+brow of the babe in her arms. See, too, that girl of thirteen, weeping,
+yes, weeping, as she thinks of the mother from whom she has been torn.
+The drove moves tardily. Heat and sorrow have nearly consumed their
+strength. Suddenly you hear a quick snap, like the discharge of a
+rifle; the fetters clank, and the chain rattles simultaneously; your
+ears are saluted with a scream that seems to have torn its way to the
+center of your soul. The crack you heard was the sound of the slave
+whip; the scream you heard was from the woman you saw with the babe.
+Her speed had faltered under the weight of her child and her chains;
+that gash on her shoulder tells her to move on. Follow this drove to
+New Orleans. Attend the auction; see men examined like horses; see the
+forms of women rudely and brutally exposed to the shocking gaze of
+American slave-buyers. See this drove sold and separated forever; and
+never forget the deep, sad sobs that arose from that scattered
+multitude. Tell me, citizens, where, under the sun, can you witness a
+spectacle more fiendish and shocking. Yet this is but a glance at the
+American slave trade, as it exists at this moment, in the ruling part
+of the United States.
+
+I was born amid such sights and scenes. To me the American slave trade
+is a terrible reality. When a child, my soul was often pierced with a
+sense of its horrors. I lived on Philpot street, Fell’s Point,
+Baltimore, and have watched from the wharves the slave ships in the
+basin, anchored from the shore, with their cargoes of human flesh,
+waiting for favorable winds to waft them down the Chesapeake. There
+was, at that time, a grand slave mart kept at the head of Pratt street,
+by Austin Woldfolk. His agents were sent into every town and county in
+Maryland, announcing their arrival through the papers, and on flaming
+hand-bills, headed, “cash for negroes.” These men were generally well
+dressed, and very captivating in their manners; ever ready to drink, to
+treat, and to gamble. The fate of many a slave has depended upon the
+turn of a single card; and many a child has been snatched from the arms
+of its mothers by bargains arranged in a state of brutal drunkenness.
+
+The flesh-mongers gather up their victims by dozens, and drive them,
+chained, to the general depot at Baltimore. When a sufficient number
+have been collected here, a ship is chartered, for the purpose of
+conveying the forlorn crew to Mobile or to New Orleans. From the
+slave-prison to the ship, they are usually driven in the darkness of
+night; for since the anti-slavery agitation a certain caution is
+observed.
+
+In the deep, still darkness of midnight, I have been often aroused by
+the dead, heavy footsteps and the piteous cries of the chained gangs
+that passed our door. The anguish of my boyish heart was intense; and I
+was often consoled, when speaking to my mistress in the morning, to
+hear her say that the custom was very wicked; that she hated to hear
+the rattle of the chains, and the heart-rending cries. I was glad to
+find one who sympathized with me in my horror.
+
+Fellow citizens, this murderous traffic is to-day in active operation
+in this boasted republic. In the solitude of my spirit, I see clouds of
+dust raised on the highways of the south; I see the bleeding footsteps;
+I hear the doleful wail of fettered humanity, on the way to the slave
+markets, where the victims are to be sold like horses, sheep, and
+swine, knocked off to the highest bidder. There I see the tenderest
+ties ruthlessly broken, to gratify the lust, caprice, and rapacity of
+the buyers and sellers of men. My soul sickens at the sight.
+
+Is this the land your fathers loved?
+    The freedom which they toiled to win?
+Is this the earth whereon they moved?
+    Are these the graves they slumber in?
+
+
+But a still more inhuman, disgraceful, and scandalous state of things
+remains to be presented. By an act of the American congress, not yet
+two years old, slavery has been nationalized in its most horrible and
+revolting form. By that act, Mason and Dixon’s line has been
+obliterated; New York has become as Virginia; and the power to hold,
+hunt, and sell men, women, and children as slaves, remains no longer a
+mere state institution, but is now an institution of the whole United
+States. The power is coextensive with the star-spangled banner and
+American christianity. Where these go, may also go the merciless
+slave-hunter. Where these are, man is not sacred. He is a bird for the
+sportsman’s gun. By that most foul and fiendish of all human decrees,
+the liberty and person of every man are put in peril. Your broad
+republican domain is a hunting-ground for _men_. Not for thieves and
+robbers, enemies of society, merely, but for men guilty of no crime.
+Your law-makers have commanded all good citizens to engage in this
+hellish sport. Your president, your secretary of state, your lords,
+nobles, and ecclesiastics, enforce as a duty you owe to your free and
+glorious country and to your God, that you do this accursed thing. Not
+fewer than forty Americans have within the past two years been hunted
+down, and without a moment’s warning, hurried away in chains, and
+consigned to slavery and excruciating torture. Some of these have had
+wives and children dependent on them for bread; but of this no account
+was made. The right of the hunter to his prey, stands superior to the
+right of marriage, and to _all_ rights in this republic, the rights of
+God included! For black men there are neither law, justice, humanity,
+nor religion. The fugitive slave law makes MERCY TO THEM A CRIME; and
+bribes the judge who tries them. An American judge GETS TEN DOLLARS FOR
+EVERY VICTIM HE CONSIGNS to slavery, and five, when he fails to do so.
+The oath of an(sic) two villains is sufficient, under this hell-black
+enactment, to send the most pious and exemplary black man into the
+remorseless jaws of slavery! His own testimony is nothing. He can bring
+no witnesses for himself. The minister of American justice is bound by
+the law to hear but _one side_, and that side is the side of the
+oppressor. Let this damning fact be perpetually told. Let it be
+thundered around the world, that, in tyrant-killing, king hating,
+people-loving, democratic, Christian America, the seats of justice are
+filled with judges, who hold their office under an open and palpable
+_bribe_, and are bound, in deciding in the case of a man’s liberty, _to
+hear only his accusers!_
+
+In glaring violation of justice, in shameless disregard of the forms of
+administering law, in cunning arrangement to entrap the defenseless,
+and in diabolical intent, this fugitive slave law stands alone in the
+annals of tyrannical legislation. I doubt if there be another nation on
+the globe having the brass and the baseness to put such a law on the
+statute-book. If any man in this assembly thinks differently from me in
+this matter, and feels able to disprove my statements, I will gladly
+confront him at any suitable time and place he may select.
+
+
+
+
+THE SLAVERY PARTY. Extract from a Speech Delivered before the A. A. S.
+
+
+Society, in New York, May, 1853.
+
+Sir, it is evident that there is in this country a purely slavery
+party—a party which exists for no other earthly purpose but to promote
+the interests of slavery. The presence of this party is felt everywhere
+in the republic. It is known by no particular name, and has assumed no
+definite shape; but its branches reach far and wide in the church and
+in the state. This shapeless and nameless party is not intangible in
+other and more important respects. That party, sir, has determined upon
+a fixed, definite, and comprehensive policy toward the whole colored
+population of the United States. What that policy is, it becomes us as
+abolitionists, and especially does it become the colored people
+themselves, to consider and to understand fully. We ought to know who
+our enemies are, where they are, and what are their objects and
+measures. Well, sir, here is my version of it—not original with me—but
+mine because I hold it to be true.
+
+I understand this policy to comprehend five cardinal objects. They are
+these: 1st. The complete suppression of all anti-slavery discussion.
+2d. The expatriation of the entire free people of color from the United
+States. 3d. The unending perpetuation of slavery in this republic. 4th.
+The nationalization of slavery to the extent of making slavery
+respected in every state of the Union. 5th. The extension of slavery
+over Mexico and the entire South American states.
+
+Sir, these objects are forcibly presented to us in the stern logic of
+passing events; in the facts which are and have been passing around us
+during the last three years. The country has been and is now dividing
+on these grand issues. In their magnitude, these issues cast all others
+into the shade, depriving them of all life and vitality. Old party ties
+are broken. Like is finding its like on either side of these great
+issues, and the great battle is at hand. For the present, the best
+representative of the slavery party in politics is the democratic
+party. Its great head for the present is President Pierce, whose boast
+it was, before his election, that his whole life had been consistent
+with the interests of slavery, that he is above reproach on that score.
+In his inaugural address, he reassures the south on this point. Well,
+the head of the slave power being in power, it is natural that the pro
+slavery elements should cluster around the administration, and this is
+rapidly being done. A fraternization is going on. The stringent
+protectionists and the free-traders strike hands. The supporters of
+Fillmore are becoming the supporters of Pierce. The silver-gray whig
+shakes hands with the hunker democrat; the former only differing from
+the latter in name. They are of one heart, one mind, and the union is
+natural and perhaps inevitable. Both hate Negroes; both hate progress;
+both hate the “higher law;” both hate William H. Seward; both hate the
+free democratic party; and upon this hateful basis they are forming a
+union of hatred. “Pilate and Herod are thus made friends.” Even the
+central organ of the whig party is extending its beggar hand for a
+morsel from the table of slavery democracy, and when spurned from the
+feast by the more deserving, it pockets the insult; when kicked on one
+side it turns the other, and preseveres in its importunities. The fact
+is, that paper comprehends the demands of the times; it understands the
+age and its issues; it wisely sees that slavery and freedom are the
+great antagonistic forces in the country, and it goes to its own side.
+Silver grays and hunkers all understand this. They are, therefore,
+rapidly sinking all other questions to nothing, compared with the
+increasing demands of slavery. They are collecting, arranging, and
+consolidating their forces for the accomplishment of their appointed
+work.
+
+The keystone to the arch of this grand union of the slavery party of
+the United States, is the compromise of 1850. In that compromise we
+have all the objects of our slaveholding policy specified. It is, sir,
+favorable to this view of the designs of the slave power, that both the
+whig and the democratic party bent lower, sunk deeper, and strained
+harder, in their conventions, preparatory to the late presidential
+election, to meet the demands of the slavery party than at any previous
+time in their history. Never did parties come before the northern
+people with propositions of such undisguised contempt for the moral
+sentiment and the religious ideas of that people. They virtually asked
+them to unite in a war upon free speech, and upon conscience, and to
+drive the Almighty presence from the councils of the nation. Resting
+their platforms upon the fugitive slave bill, they boldly asked the
+people for political power to execute the horrible and hell-black
+provisions of that bill. The history of that election reveals, with
+great clearness, the extent to which slavery has shot its leprous
+distillment through the life-blood of the nation. The party most
+thoroughly opposed to the cause of justice and humanity, triumphed;
+while the party suspected of a leaning toward liberty, was
+overwhelmingly defeated, some say annihilated.
+
+But here is a still more important fact, illustrating the designs of
+the slave power. It is a fact full of meaning, that no sooner did the
+democratic slavery party come into power, than a system of legislation
+was presented to the legislatures of the northern states, designed to
+put the states in harmony with the fugitive slave law, and the
+malignant bearing of the national government toward the colored
+inhabitants of the country. This whole movement on the part of the
+states, bears the evidence of having one origin, emanating from one
+head, and urged forward by one power. It was simultaneous, uniform, and
+general, and looked to one end. It was intended to put thorns under
+feet already bleeding; to crush a people already bowed down; to enslave
+a people already but half free; in a word, it was intended to
+discourage, dishearten, and drive the free colored people out of the
+country. In looking at the recent black law of Illinois, one is struck
+dumb with its enormity. It would seem that the men who enacted that
+law, had not only banished from their minds all sense of justice, but
+all sense of shame. It coolly proposes to sell the bodies and souls of
+the blacks to increase the intelligence and refinement of the whites;
+to rob every black stranger who ventures among them, to increase their
+literary fund.
+
+While this is going on in the states, a pro-slavery, political board of
+health is established at Washington. Senators Hale, Chase, and Sumner
+are robbed of a part of their senatorial dignity and consequence as
+representing sovereign states, because they have refused to be
+inoculated with the slavery virus. Among the services which a senator
+is expected by his state to perform, are many that can only be done
+efficiently on committees; and, in saying to these honorable senators,
+you shall not serve on the committees of this body, the slavery party
+took the responsibility of robbing and insulting the states that sent
+them. It is an attempt at Washington to decide for the states who shall
+be sent to the senate. Sir, it strikes me that this aggression on the
+part of the slave power did not meet at the hands of the proscribed
+senators the rebuke which we had a right to expect would be
+administered. It seems to me that an opportunity was lost, that the
+great principle of senatorial equality was left undefended, at a time
+when its vindication was sternly demanded. But it is not to the purpose
+of my present statement to criticise the conduct of our friends. I am
+persuaded that much ought to be left to the discretion of anti slavery
+men in congress, and charges of recreancy should never be made but on
+the most sufficient grounds. For, of all the places in the world where
+an anti-slavery man needs the confidence and encouragement of friends,
+I take Washington to be that place.
+
+Let me now call attention to the social influences which are operating
+and cooperating with the slavery party of the country, designed to
+contribute to one or all of the grand objects aimed at by that party.
+We see here the black man attacked in his vital interests; prejudice
+and hate are excited against him; enmity is stirred up between him and
+other laborers. The Irish people, warm-hearted, generous, and
+sympathizing with the oppressed everywhere, when they stand upon their
+own green island, are instantly taught, on arriving in this Christian
+country, to hate and despise the colored people. They are taught to
+believe that we eat the bread which of right belongs to them. The cruel
+lie is told the Irish, that our adversity is essential to their
+prosperity. Sir, the Irish-American will find out his mistake one day.
+He will find that in assuming our avocation he also has assumed our
+degradation. But for the present we are sufferers. The old employments
+by which we have heretofore gained our livelihood, are gradually, and
+it may be inevitably, passing into other hands. Every hour sees us
+elbowed out of some employment to make room perhaps for some
+newly-arrived emigrants, whose hunger and color are thought to give
+them a title to especial favor. White men are becoming house-servants,
+cooks, and stewards, common laborers, and flunkeys to our gentry, and,
+for aught I see, they adjust themselves to their stations with all
+becoming obsequiousness. This fact proves that if we cannot rise to the
+whites, the whites can fall to us. Now, sir, look once more. While the
+colored people are thus elbowed out of employment; while the enmity of
+emigrants is being excited against us; while state after state enacts
+laws against us; while we are hunted down, like wild game, and
+oppressed with a general feeling of insecurity—the American
+colonization society—that old offender against the best interests and
+slanderer of the colored people—awakens to new life, and vigorously
+presses its scheme upon the consideration of the people and the
+government. New papers are started—some for the north and some for the
+south—and each in its tone adapting itself to its latitude. Government,
+state and national, is called upon for appropriations to enable the
+society to send us out of the country by steam! They want steamers to
+carry letters and Negroes to Africa. Evidently, this society looks upon
+our “extremity as its opportunity,” and we may expect that it will use
+the occasion well. They do not deplore, but glory, in our misfortunes.
+
+But, sir, I must hasten. I have thus briefly given my view of one
+aspect of the present condition and future prospects of the colored
+people of the United States. And what I have said is far from
+encouraging to my afflicted people. I have seen the cloud gather upon
+the sable brows of some who hear me. I confess the case looks black
+enough. Sir, I am not a hopeful man. I think I am apt even to
+undercalculate the benefits of the future. Yet, sir, in this seemingly
+desperate case, I do not despair for my people. There is a bright side
+to almost every picture of this kind; and ours is no exception to the
+general rule. If the influences against us are strong, those for us are
+also strong. To the inquiry, will our enemies prevail in the execution
+of their designs. In my God and in my soul, I believe they _will not_.
+Let us look at the first object sought for by the slavery party of the
+country, viz: the suppression of anti slavery discussion. They desire
+to suppress discussion on this subject, with a view to the peace of the
+slaveholder and the security of slavery. Now, sir, neither the
+principle nor the subordinate objects here declared, can be at all
+gained by the slave power, and for this reason: It involves the
+proposition to padlock the lips of the whites, in order to secure the
+fetters on the limbs of the blacks. The right of speech, precious and
+priceless, _cannot, will not_, be surrendered to slavery. Its
+suppression is asked for, as I have said, to give peace and security to
+slaveholders. Sir, that thing cannot be done. God has interposed an
+insuperable obstacle to any such result. “There can be _no peace_,
+saith my God, to the wicked.” Suppose it were possible to put down this
+discussion, what would it avail the guilty slaveholder, pillowed as he
+is upon heaving bosoms of ruined souls? He could not have a peaceful
+spirit. If every anti-slavery tongue in the nation were silent—every
+anti-slavery organization dissolved—every anti-slavery press
+demolished—every anti slavery periodical, paper, book, pamphlet, or
+what not, were searched out, gathered, deliberately burned to ashes,
+and their ashes given to the four winds of heaven, still, still the
+slaveholder could have _“no peace_.” In every pulsation of his heart,
+in every throb of his life, in every glance of his eye, in the breeze
+that soothes, and in the thunder that startles, would be waked up an
+accuser, whose cause is, “Thou art, verily, guilty concerning thy
+brother.”
+
+
+
+
+THE ANTI-SLAVERY MOVEMENT. Extracts from a Lecture before Various
+
+
+Anti-Slavery Bodies, in the Winter of 1855.
+
+A grand movement on the part of mankind, in any direction, or for any
+purpose, moral or political, is an interesting fact, fit and proper to
+be studied. It is such, not only for those who eagerly participate in
+it, but also for those who stand aloof from it—even for those by whom
+it is opposed. I take the anti-slavery movement to be such an one, and
+a movement as sublime and glorious in its character, as it is holy and
+beneficent in the ends it aims to accomplish. At this moment, I deem it
+safe to say, it is properly engrossing more minds in this country than
+any other subject now before the American people. The late John C.
+Calhoun—one of the mightiest men that ever stood up in the American
+senate—did not deem it beneath him; and he probably studied it as
+deeply, though not as honestly, as Gerrit Smith, or William Lloyd
+Garrison. He evinced the greatest familiarity with the subject; and the
+greatest efforts of his last years in the senate had direct reference
+to this movement. His eagle eye watched every new development connected
+with it; and he was ever prompt to inform the south of every important
+step in its progress. He never allowed himself to make light of it; but
+always spoke of it and treated it as a matter of grave import; and in
+this he showed himself a master of the mental, moral, and religious
+constitution of human society. Daniel Webster, too, in the better days
+of his life, before he gave his assent to the fugitive slave bill, and
+trampled upon all his earlier and better convictions—when his eye was
+yet single—he clearly comprehended the nature of the elements involved
+in this movement; and in his own majestic eloquence, warned the south,
+and the country, to have a care how they attempted to put it down. He
+is an illustration that it is easier to give, than to take, good
+advice. To these two men—the greatest men to whom the nation has yet
+given birth—may be traced the two great facts of the present—the south
+triumphant, and the north humbled. Their names may stand thus—Calhoun
+and domination—Webster and degradation. Yet again. If to the enemies of
+liberty this subject is one of engrossing interest, vastly more so
+should it be such to freedom’s friends. The latter, it leads to the
+gates of all valuable knowledge—philanthropic, ethical, and religious;
+for it brings them to the study of man, wonderfully and fearfully
+made—the proper study of man through all time—the open book, in which
+are the records of time and eternity.
+
+Of the existence and power of the anti-slavery movement, as a fact, you
+need no evidence. The nation has seen its face, and felt the
+controlling pressure of its hand. You have seen it moving in all
+directions, and in all weathers, and in all places, appearing most
+where desired least, and pressing hardest where most resisted. No place
+is exempt. The quiet prayer meeting, and the stormy halls of national
+debate, share its presence alike. It is a common intruder, and of
+course has the name of being ungentlemanly. Brethren who had long sung,
+in the most affectionate fervor, and with the greatest sense of
+security,
+
+Together let us sweetly live—together let us die,
+
+
+have been suddenly and violently separated by it, and ranged in hostile
+attitude toward each other. The Methodist, one of the most powerful
+religious organizations of this country, has been rent asunder, and its
+strongest bolts of denominational brotherhood started at a single
+surge. It has changed the tone of the northern pulpit, and modified
+that of the press. A celebrated divine, who, four years ago, was for
+flinging his own mother, or brother, into the remorseless jaws of the
+monster slavery, lest he should swallow up the Union, now recognizes
+anti-slavery as a characteristic of future civilization. Signs and
+wonders follow this movement; and the fact just stated is one of them.
+Party ties are loosened by it; and men are compelled to take sides for
+or against it, whether they will or not. Come from where he may, or
+come for what he may, he is compelled to show his hand. What is this
+mighty force? What is its history? and what is its destiny? Is it
+ancient or modern, transient or permanent? Has it turned aside, like a
+stranger and a sojourner, to tarry for a night? or has it come to rest
+with us forever? Excellent chances are here for speculation; and some
+of them are quite profound. We might, for instance, proceed to inquire
+not only into the philosophy of the anti-slavery movement, but into the
+philosophy of the law, in obedience to which that movement started into
+existence. We might demand to know what is that law or power, which, at
+different times, disposes the minds of men to this or that particular
+object—now for peace, and now for war—now for freedom, and now for
+slavery; but this profound question I leave to the abolitionists of the
+superior class to answer. The speculations which must precede such
+answer, would afford, perhaps, about the same satisfaction as the
+learned theories which have rained down upon the world, from time to
+time, as to the origin of evil. I shall, therefore, avoid water in
+which I cannot swim, and deal with anti-slavery as a fact, like any
+other fact in the history of mankind, capable of being described and
+understood, both as to its internal forces, and its external phases and
+relations.
+
+[After an eloquent, a full, and highly interesting exposition of the
+nature, character, and history of the anti-slavery movement, from the
+insertion of which want of space precludes us, he concluded in the
+following happy manner.]
+
+Present organizations may perish, but the cause will go on. That cause
+has a life, distinct and independent of the organizations patched up
+from time to time to carry it forward. Looked at, apart from the bones
+and sinews and body, it is a thing immortal. It is the very essence of
+justice, liberty, and love. The moral life of human society, it cannot
+die while conscience, honor, and humanity remain. If but one be filled
+with it, the cause lives. Its incarnation in any one individual man,
+leaves the whole world a priesthood, occupying the highest moral
+eminence even that of disinterested benevolence. Whoso has ascended his
+height, and has the grace to stand there, has the world at his feet,
+and is the world’s teacher, as of divine right. He may set in judgment
+on the age, upon the civilization of the age, and upon the religion of
+the age; for he has a test, a sure and certain test, by which to try
+all institutions, and to measure all men. I say, he may do this, but
+this is not the chief business for which he is qualified. The great
+work to which he is called is not that of judgment. Like the Prince of
+Peace, he may say, if I judge, I judge righteous judgment; still
+mainly, like him, he may say, this is not his work. The man who has
+thoroughly embraced the principles of justice, love, and liberty, like
+the true preacher of Christianity, is less anxious to reproach the
+world of its sins, than to win it to repentance. His great work on
+earth is to exemplify, and to illustrate, and to ingraft those
+principles upon the living and practical understandings of all men
+within the reach of his influence. This is his work; long or short his
+years, many or few his adherents, powerful or weak his
+instrumentalities, through good report, or through bad report, this is
+his work. It is to snatch from the bosom of nature the latent facts of
+each individual man’s experience, and with steady hand to hold them up
+fresh and glowing, enforcing, with all his power, their acknowledgment
+and practical adoption. If there be but _one_ such man in the land, no
+matter what becomes of abolition societies and parties, there will be
+an anti-slavery cause, and an anti-slavery movement. Fortunately for
+that cause, and fortunately for him by whom it is espoused, it requires
+no extraordinary amount of talent to preach it or to receive it when
+preached. The grand secret of its power is, that each of its principles
+is easily rendered appreciable to the faculty of reason in man, and
+that the most unenlightened conscience has no difficulty in deciding on
+which side to register its testimony. It can call its preachers from
+among the fishermen, and raise them to power. In every human breast, it
+has an advocate which can be silent only when the heart is dead. It
+comes home to every man’s understanding, and appeals directly to every
+man’s conscience. A man that does not recognize and approve for himself
+the rights and privileges contended for, in behalf of the American
+slave, has not yet been found. In whatever else men may differ, they
+are alike in the apprehension of their natural and personal rights. The
+difference between abolitionists and those by whom they are opposed, is
+not as to principles. All are agreed in respect to these. The manner of
+applying them is the point of difference.
+
+The slaveholder himself, the daily robber of his equal brother,
+discourses eloquently as to the excellency of justice, and the man who
+employs a brutal driver to flay the flesh of his negroes, is not
+offended when kindness and humanity are commended. Every time the
+abolitionist speaks of justice, the anti-abolitionist assents says,
+yes, I wish the world were filled with a disposition to render to every
+man what is rightfully due him; I should then get what is due me.
+That’s right; let us have justice. By all means, let us have justice.
+Every time the abolitionist speaks in honor of human liberty, he
+touches a chord in the heart of the anti-abolitionist, which responds
+in harmonious vibrations. Liberty—yes, that is evidently my right, and
+let him beware who attempts to invade or abridge that right. Every time
+he speaks of love, of human brotherhood, and the reciprocal duties of
+man and man, the anti-abolitionist assents—says, yes, all right—all
+true—we cannot have such ideas too often, or too fully expressed. So he
+says, and so he feels, and only shows thereby that he is a man as well
+as an anti-abolitionist. You have only to keep out of sight the manner
+of applying your principles, to get them endorsed every time.
+Contemplating himself, he sees truth with absolute clearness and
+distinctness. He only blunders when asked to lose sight of himself. In
+his own cause he can beat a Boston lawyer, but he is dumb when asked to
+plead the cause of others. He knows very well whatsoever he would have
+done unto himself, but is quite in doubt as to having the same thing
+done unto others. It is just here, that lions spring up in the path of
+duty, and the battle once fought in heaven is refought on the earth. So
+it is, so hath it ever been, and so must it ever be, when the claims of
+justice and mercy make their demand at the door of human selfishness.
+Nevertheless, there is that within which ever pleads for the right and
+the just.
+
+In conclusion, I have taken a sober view of the present anti-slavery
+movement. I am sober, but not hopeless. There is no denying, for it is
+everywhere admitted, that the anti-slavery question is the great moral
+and social question now before the American people. A state of things
+has gradually been developed, by which that question has become the
+first thing in order. It must be met. Herein is my hope. The great idea
+of impartial liberty is now fairly before the American people.
+Anti-slavery is no longer a thing to be prevented. The time for
+prevention is past. This is great gain. When the movement was younger
+and weaker—when it wrought in a Boston garret to human apprehension, it
+might have been silently put out of the way. Things are different now.
+It has grown too large—its friends are too numerous—its facilities too
+abundant—its ramifications too extended—its power too omnipotent, to be
+snuffed out by the contingencies of infancy. A thousand strong men
+might be struck down, and its ranks still be invincible. One flash from
+the heart-supplied intellect of Harriet Beecher Stowe could light a
+million camp fires in front of the embattled host of slavery, which not
+all the waters of the Mississippi, mingled as they are with blood,
+could extinguish. The present will be looked to by after coming
+generations, as the age of anti-slavery literature—when supply on the
+gallop could not keep pace with the ever growing demand—when a picture
+of a Negro on the cover was a help to the sale of a book—when
+conservative lyceums and other American literary associations began
+first to select their orators for distinguished occasions from the
+ranks of the previously despised abolitionists. If the anti-slavery
+movement shall fail now, it will not be from outward opposition, but
+from inward decay. Its auxiliaries are everywhere. Scholars, authors,
+orators, poets, and statesmen give it their aid. The most brilliant of
+American poets volunteer in its service. Whittier speaks in burning
+verse to more than thirty thousand, in the National Era. Your own
+Longfellow whispers, in every hour of trial and disappointment, “labor
+and wait.” James Russell Lowell is reminding us that “men are more than
+institutions.” Pierpont cheers the heart of the pilgrim in search of
+liberty, by singing the praises of “the north star.” Bryant, too, is
+with us; and though chained to the car of party, and dragged on amidst
+a whirl of political excitement, he snatches a moment for letting drop
+a smiling verse of sympathy for the man in chains. The poets are with
+us. It would seem almost absurd to say it, considering the use that has
+been made of them, that we have allies in the Ethiopian songs; those
+songs that constitute our national music, and without which we have no
+national music. They are heart songs, and the finest feelings of human
+nature are expressed in them. “Lucy Neal,” “Old Kentucky Home,” and
+“Uncle Ned,” can make the heart sad as well as merry, and can call
+forth a tear as well as a smile. They awaken the sympathies for the
+slave, in which antislavery principles take root, grow, and flourish.
+In addition to authors, poets, and scholars at home, the moral sense of
+the civilized world is with us. England, France, and Germany, the three
+great lights of modern civilization, are with us, and every American
+traveler learns to regret the existence of slavery in his country. The
+growth of intelligence, the influence of commerce, steam, wind, and
+lightning are our allies. It would be easy to amplify this summary, and
+to swell the vast conglomeration of our material forces; but there is a
+deeper and truer method of measuring the power of our cause, and of
+comprehending its vitality. This is to be found in its accordance with
+the best elements of human nature. It is beyond the power of slavery to
+annihilate affinities recognized and established by the Almighty. The
+slave is bound to mankind by the powerful and inextricable net-work of
+human brotherhood. His voice is the voice of a man, and his cry is the
+cry of a man in distress, and man must cease to be man before he can
+become insensible to that cry. It is the righteous of the cause—the
+humanity of the cause—which constitutes its potency. As one genuine
+bankbill is worth more than a thousand counterfeits, so is one man,
+with right on his side, worth more than a thousand in the wrong. “One
+may chase a thousand, and put ten thousand to flight.” It is,
+therefore, upon the goodness of our cause, more than upon all other
+auxiliaries, that we depend for its final triumph.
+
+Another source of congratulations is the fact that, amid all the
+efforts made by the church, the government, and the people at large, to
+stay the onward progress of this movement, its course has been onward,
+steady, straight, unshaken, and unchecked from the beginning. Slavery
+has gained victories large and numerous; but never as against this
+movement—against a temporizing policy, and against northern timidity,
+the slave power has been victorious; but against the spread and
+prevalence in the country, of a spirit of resistance to its aggression,
+and of sentiments favorable to its entire overthrow, it has yet
+accomplished nothing. Every measure, yet devised and executed, having
+for its object the suppression of anti-slavery, has been as idle and
+fruitless as pouring oil to extinguish fire. A general rejoicing took
+place on the passage of “the compromise measures” of 1850. Those
+measures were called peace measures, and were afterward termed by both
+the great parties of the country, as well as by leading statesmen, a
+final settlement of the whole question of slavery; but experience has
+laughed to scorn the wisdom of pro-slavery statesmen; and their final
+settlement of agitation seems to be the final revival, on a broader and
+grander scale than ever before, of the question which they vainly
+attempted to suppress forever. The fugitive slave bill has especially
+been of positive service to the anti-slavery movement. It has
+illustrated before all the people the horrible character of slavery
+toward the slave, in hunting him down in a free state, and tearing him
+away from wife and children, thus setting its claims higher than
+marriage or parental claims. It has revealed the arrogant and
+overbearing spirit of the slave states toward the free states;
+despising their principles—shocking their feelings of humanity, not
+only by bringing before them the abominations of slavery, but by
+attempting to make them parties to the crime. It has called into
+exercise among the colored people, the hunted ones, a spirit of manly
+resistance well calculated to surround them with a bulwark of sympathy
+and respect hitherto unknown. For men are always disposed to respect
+and defend rights, when the victims of oppression stand up manfully for
+themselves.
+
+There is another element of power added to the anti-slavery movement,
+of great importance; it is the conviction, becoming every day more
+general and universal, that slavery must be abolished at the south, or
+it will demoralize and destroy liberty at the north. It is the nature
+of slavery to beget a state of things all around it favorable to its
+own continuance. This fact, connected with the system of bondage, is
+beginning to be more fully realized. The slave-holder is not satisfied
+to associate with men in the church or in the state, unless he can
+thereby stain them with the blood of his slaves. To be a slave-holder
+is to be a propagandist from necessity; for slavery can only live by
+keeping down the under-growth morality which nature supplies. Every
+new-born white babe comes armed from the Eternal presence, to make war
+on slavery. The heart of pity, which would melt in due time over the
+brutal chastisements it sees inflicted on the helpless, must be
+hardened. And this work goes on every day in the year, and every hour
+in the day.
+
+What is done at home is being done also abroad here in the north. And
+even now the question may be asked, have we at this moment a single
+free state in the Union? The alarm at this point will become more
+general. The slave power must go on in its career of exactions. Give,
+give, will be its cry, till the timidity which concedes shall give
+place to courage, which shall resist. Such is the voice of experience,
+such has been the past, such is the present, and such will be that
+future, which, so sure as man is man, will come. Here I leave the
+subject; and I leave off where I began, consoling myself and
+congratulating the friends of freedom upon the fact that the
+anti-slavery cause is not a new thing under the sun; not some moral
+delusion which a few years’ experience may dispel. It has appeared
+among men in all ages, and summoned its advocates from all ranks. Its
+foundations are laid in the deepest and holiest convictions, and from
+whatever soul the demon, selfishness, is expelled, there will this
+cause take up its abode. Old as the everlasting hills; immovable as the
+throne of God; and certain as the purposes of eternal power, against
+all hinderances, and against all delays, and despite all the mutations
+of human instrumentalities, it is the faith of my soul, that this
+anti-slavery cause will triumph.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+1 (return) [ Letter, Introduction to _Life of Frederick Douglass_,
+Boston, 1841.]
+
+2 (return) [ One of these ladies, impelled by the same noble spirit
+which carried Miss Nightingale to Scutari, has devoted her time, her
+untiring energies, to a great extent her means, and her high literary
+abilities, to the advancement and support of Frederick Douglass’ Paper,
+the only organ of the downtrodden, edited and published by one of
+themselves, in the United States.]
+
+3 (return) [ Mr. Stephen Myers, of Albany, deserves mention as one of
+the most persevering among the colored editorial fraternity.]
+
+4 (return) [ The German physiologists have even discovered vegetable
+matter—starch—in the human body. See _Med. Chirurgical Rev_., Oct.,
+1854, p. 339.]
+
+5 (return) [ Mr. Wm. H. Topp, of Albany.]
+
+6 (return) [ This is the same man who gave me the roots to prevent my
+being whipped by Mr. Covey. He was “a clever soul.” We used frequently
+to talk about the fight with Covey, and as often as we did so, he would
+claim my success as the result of the roots which he gave me. This
+superstition is very common among the more ignorant slaves. A slave
+seldom dies, but that his death is attributed to trickery.]
+
+7 (return) [ He was a whole-souled man, fully imbued with a love of his
+afflicted and hunted people, and took pleasure in being to me, as was
+his wont, “Eyes to the blind, and legs to the lame.” This brave and
+devoted man suffered much from the persecutions common to all who have
+been prominent benefactors. He at last became blind, and needed a
+friend to guide him, even as he had been a guide to others. Even in his
+blindness, he exhibited his manly character. In search of health, he
+became a physician. When hope of gaining is(sic) own was gone, he had
+hope for others. Believing in hydropathy, he established, at
+Northampton, Massachusetts, a large _“Water Cure,”_ and became one of
+the most successful of all engaged in that mode of treatment.]
+
+8 (return) [ The following is a copy of these curious papers, both of
+my transfer from Thomas to Hugh Auld, and from Hugh to myself:
+
+“Know all men by these Presents, That I, Thomas Auld, of Talbot county,
+and state of Maryland, for and in consideration of the sum of one
+hundred dollars, current money, to me paid by Hugh Auld, of the city of
+Baltimore, in the said state, at and before the sealing and delivery of
+these presents, the receipt whereof, I, the said Thomas Auld, do hereby
+acknowledge, have granted, bargained, and sold, and by these presents
+do grant, bargain, and sell unto the said Hugh Auld, his executors,
+administrators, and assigns, ONE NEGRO MAN, by the name of FREDERICK
+BAILY, or DOUGLASS, as he callls(sic) himself—he is now about
+twenty-eight years of age—to have and to hold the said negro man for
+life. And I, the said Thomas Auld, for myself my heirs, executors, and
+administrators, all and singular, the said FREDERICK BAILY _alias_
+DOUGLASS, unto the said Hugh Auld, his executors, administrators, and
+assigns against me, the said Thomas Auld, my executors, and
+administrators, and against ali and every other person or persons
+whatsoever, shall and will warrant and forever defend by these
+presents. In witness whereof, I set my hand and seal, this thirteenth
+day of November, eighteen hundred and forty-six.
+
+THOMAS AULD
+
+“Signed, sealed, and delivered in presence of Wrightson Jones.
+
+“JOHN C. LEAS.
+
+The authenticity of this bill of sale is attested by N. Harrington, a
+justice of the peace of the state of Maryland, and for the county of
+Talbot, dated same day as above.
+
+“To all whom it may concern: Be it known, that I, Hugh Auld, of the
+city of Baltimore, in Baltimore county, in the state of Maryland, for
+divers good causes and considerations, me thereunto moving, have
+released from slavery, liberated, manumitted, and set free, and by
+these presents do hereby release from slavery, liberate, manumit, and
+set free, MY NEGRO MAN, named FREDERICK BAILY, otherwise called
+DOUGLASS, being of the age of twenty-eight years, or thereabouts, and
+able to work and gain a sufficient livelihood and maintenance; and him
+the said negro man named FREDERICK BAILY, otherwise called FREDERICK
+DOUGLASS, I do declare to be henceforth free, manumitted, and
+discharged from all manner of servitude to me, my executors, and
+administrators forever.
+
+“In witness whereof, I, the said Hugh Auld, have hereunto set my hand
+and seal the fifth of December, in the year one thousand eight hundred
+and forty-six.
+
+Hugh Auld
+
+“Sealed and delivered in presence of T. Hanson Belt.
+
+“JAMES N. S. T. WRIGHT”]
+
+9 (return) [ See Appendix to this volume, page 317.]
+
+10 (return) [ Mr. Douglass’ published speeches alone, would fill two
+volumes of the size of this. Our space will only permit the insertion
+of the extracts which follow; and which, for originality of thought,
+beauty and force of expression, and for impassioned, indignatory
+eloquence, have seldom been equaled.]
+
+11 (return) [ It is not often that chattels address their owners. The
+following letter is unique; and probably the only specimen of the kind
+extant. It was written while in England.]
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY BONDAGE AND MY FREEDOM ***
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
+be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
+United States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
+the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
+of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
+copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
+easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
+of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
+Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
+do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
+by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
+license, especially commercial redistribution.
+
+START: FULL LICENSE
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
+person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
+1.E.8.
+
+1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
+Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country other than the United States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
+on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+
+  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
+  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
+  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
+  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
+  United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
+  you are located before using this eBook.
+
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
+other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
+Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+provided that:
+
+* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
+  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+  Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
+  works.
+
+* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+  receipt of the work.
+
+* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
+the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
+forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
+www.gutenberg.org
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
+Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
+to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
+and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
+widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
+state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+
+Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
+facility: www.gutenberg.org
+
+This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+