University of California Berkeley 







<7 






LIFE AND TIMES 

OP 

IEDERICK DOUGLASS 

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 

kELY LIFE AS A SLAVE, His ESCAPE FKOM BONDAGE, 



s COMPLETE HISTOET TO THE PEESENT TIME, 

INCLUDING 

IECTION WITH THE ANTI-SLAVERY MOVEMENT ; HIS LABORS IN GREAT BRITAIN 
V. A.V IX HIS OWN COUNTRY; HIS EXPERIENCE IN THE CONDUCT OF AN 
:ENTIAL NEWSPAPER; HIS CONNECTION WITH THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD; 
. RELATIONS WITH JOHN BROWN AND THE HARPER'S FERRY RAID ; HIS 

.CRUIT^TG THE 54TH AND SOTH MASS. COLORED REGIMENTS ; HIS INTER 
HEWS WITH PRESIDENTS LINCOLN AND JOHNSON ; HIS APPOINTMENT 
BY GEN. GRANT TO ACCOMPANY THE SANTO DOMINGO COMMISSION 
. ALSO TO A SEAT IN THE COUNCIL OF THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA; 
HIS APPOINTMENT AS UNITED STATES MARSHAL BY PRESIDENT 
R. B. HAYES ; ALSO HIS APPOINTMENT TO BB RECORDER OP 
DEEDS IN WASHINGTON BY PRESIDENT J. A. GARFIELD ; 
WITH MANY OTHER INTERESTING AND IMPORTANT 
EVENTS OF HIS MOST EVENTFUL LIFE ; 

WITH 

NTRODUCTION BY Mfi. GrEOKGE L. RlJFFIN, 

OF BOSTON. 



HAKTFOED, CONN.: 
PAUK PUBLISHING- CO. 

EEWELL & CO., CLEVELAND, O. ; J. S. GOODMAN & CO., CHICAGO, ILL. ; 
PHILLIPS & HUNT, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 

1882. 



COPYRIGHTED BY 

PARK PUBLISHING Co., 
1881. 



n 




CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 
AUTHOR'S BIRTH. 

-uuniwi a place of birth Description of country Its inhabit- 
ants Genealogical trees Method of counting tune in slave 
districts Date of author's birth Names of grandparents 
Their cabin Home with them Slave practice of separating 
mothers from their children Author's recollections of his 
mother Who was his father? 25 

CHAPTER II. 
REMOVAL FROM GRANDMOTHER'S. 

uthor's early home Its charms Author's ignorance of "old 
r> master" His gradual perception of the truth concerning 
11 him His relations to Col. Edward Lloyd Author's removal to 

" old master's " home His journey thence His separation from 
JI his grandmother His grief 29 

CHAPTER III. 
TROUBLES OF CHILDHOOD. 

ol. Lloyd's plantation Aunt Katy Her cruelty and ill-nature 
r. Anthony's partiality to Aunt Katy Allowance of food 
hor's hunger Unexpected rescue by his mother The re- 
of Aunt Katy Sleep A slave-mother's love Author's 
itance His mother's acquirements Her death. . . 34 




CHAPTER IV. 
GENERAL SURVEY OF THE SLAVE PLANTATION. ; 

3me plantation of Colonel Lloyd Its isolation Its industries- 
The slave rule Power of overseers Author finds some enjoy- 



6 CONTENTS. 

ment Natural scenery Sloop "Sally Lloyd" Wind-mill 
Slave quarter "Old master's" house Stables, store-houses, 
etc., etc. The great house Its surroundings Lloyd Burial- 
place Superstition of Slaves Colonel Lloyd's wealth Negro <*! 
politeness Doctor Copper Captain Anthony His family 
Master Daniel Lloyd His brothers Social etiquette. . .4 

CHAPTER V. 
A SLAVEHOLDER'S CHARACTER. N 

Increasing acquaintance with old master Evils of unresisted 
passion Apparent tenderness A man of trouble Custom of 
muttering to himself Brutal outrage A drunken overseer 
Slaveholder's impatience Wisdom of appeal A base and 
selfish attempt to break up a courtship. . . - . . - *.* Jj 






CHAPTER VI. 
A CHILD'S REASONING. 

The author's early reflections on Slavery Aunt Jennie and Uncle - 
Noah Presentiment of one day becoming a freeman Conflict 
between an overseer and a slave woman Advantage of resist- 
ance Death of an overseer Col. Lloyd's plantation home 
Monthly distribution of food Singing of Slaves An expla- 
nation The slaves' food and clothing Naked children Life . 
in the quarter Sleeping-places not beds Deprivation of sleep 
Care of nursing babies Ash cake Contrast. . . ^^| 

CHAPTER VII. 
LUXURIES AT THE GREAT HOUSE. 

Contrasts Great House luxuries Its hospitality Entertain 
ments Fault-finding Shameful humiliation of an old 
faithful coachman William Wilks Curious incident 
pressed satisfaction not always genuine Reasons for suppressjg 
ing the truth -3 

CHAPTER VIII. 
CHARACTERISTICS OF OVERSEERS. 

Austin Gore Sketch of his character Overseers as a class 
Thoir peculiar characteristics The marked individuality of 




r 



?: . CONTENTS. ( 

Hstin Gore His sense of duty Murder of poor Denby Seri- 
pion How Gore made his peace with CoL Lloyd Other 

terrible murders No laws for the protection of slaves possible 
being enforced 75 

CHAPTER IX. 
CHANGE OF LOCATION. 

iss Lucretia Her kindness How it was manifested " Ike " 
A battle with him Miss Lucretia's balsam Bread How it was 
obtained Gleams of sunet amidst the general darkness 
Suffering from cold How we took our meal mush Prepara- 
tions for going to Bait imore Delight at the change Cousin 
Tom's opinion of Baltimore Arrival there Kind reception 
Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Auld Then* son Tommy My relations to 
them My duties A turning-point in my life S3 

CHAPTER X. 

LEARNING TO READ. 

Oity annoyances Plantation regrets My mistress Her history 
Her kindness My master His sourness My comforts In- 
creased sensitiveness My occupation Learning to read Bane- 
ful effects of slaveholding on my dear, good mistress Mr. 
Hugh forbids Mrs. Sophia to teach me further Clouds gather 
I on my bright prospects Master Auld's exposition of the Phi- 
I losophy of Slavery City slaves Country slaves Contrasts 
I Exceptions Mr. Hamilton's two slaves Mrs. Hamilton's cruel 
I treatment of them Piteous aspect presented by them No power 
f to come between the slave and slaveholder. . . 91 



CHAPTER XI. 

GROWING IN KNOWLEDGE. 

I 

h ilstress Her slaveholding duties Thejr effects on her origi- 
K .Ay noble nature The conflict in her .mind She opposes my 
Warning to read Too late She had given me the "inch," I was 
Ived to take the "ell" How I pursued my study to read 
My tutors What progress I made Slavery What I heard 
said about it Thirteen years old Columbian orator Dia- 
logue Speeches Sheridan Pitt Lords Chatham and Fox 
Knowledge increasing Liberty Singing Sadness Unhappi- 



CONTENTS. 






ness of Mrs. Sophia My hatred of slavery One Upas tree 
overshadaws us all ...... .... 99 



CHAPTER XII. 
EELIGIOUS NATURE AWAKENED. 

Abolitionists spoken of Eagerness to know the meaning of 
word Consults the dictionary Incendiary information The 
enigma solved "Nat Turner" insurrection Cholera Relig- 
ion Methodist minister Religious impressions Father Law- 
son His character and occupation His influence over me 
Our mutual attachment New hopes and aspirations Heavenly 
light Two Irishmen on wharf Conversation with them 
Learning to write My aims ........ 108 

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, includ- 
ing the slaves Sent for to come to Hillsborough to be valued 
and divided Sad prospects and grief Parting Slaves have no 
voice in deciding their own destinies General dread of falling 
into Master Andrew's hands His drunkenness Good fortune in 
falling to Miss Lucretia She allows my return to Baltimore 
Joy at Master Hugh's Death of Miss Lucretia Master Thomas 
Auld's second marriage The new wife unlike the old Again 
removed from Master Hugh's Reasons for regret Plan of 
escape ............. 116 

CHAPTER XIV. 
EXPERIENCE IN ST. MICHAELS. 

St. Michaels and its inhabitants Capt. Auld His new wifi 
Sufferings from hunger Forced to steal Argument in vindic 
tion thereof Southern camp-meeting What Capt. Auld di 
there Hopes Suspicions The result Faith and works at 
variance Position in the church Poor Cousin Henny Metho 
dist preachers Their disregard of the slaves One exception 



Sabbath-school How and by whom broken up Sad change in 
my prospects Covey, the negro-breaker 



126 



* . 'CONTENTS. 9 

CHAPTER XY. 
COVEY, THE NEGRO BREAKER. 

- to Covey's Meditations by the way Covey's house 
T. ; ly Awkwardness as a field hand A cruel beating Why 
given Description of Covey First attempt at driving oxen 
Hair-breadth escape Ox and man alike property Hard labor 
more effective than the whip for breaking down the spirit 
Cunning and trickery of Covey Family worship Shocking 
and indecent contempt for chastity Great mental agitation 
Anguish beyond description. 140 

CHAPTER XYI. 
ANOTHER PRESSURE OF THE TYRANT'S VISE. 

Experience at Covey's summed up First six month's severer 
than the remaining six Preliminaries to the change Reasons 
for narrating the circumstances Scene in the treading-yard 

- Author taken ill Escapes to St. Michaels The pursuit Suffer- 
ing in the woods Talk with Master Thomas His beating 
Driven back to Covey's The slaves never sick Natural to 
expect them to feign sickness Laziness of slaveholders. . . 155 

CHAPTER XVII. 
THE LAST FLOGGING. 

A sleepless night Return to Covey's Punished by him 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 master 
Sandy's hospitality The ash-cake supper Interview with 
Sandy His advice Sandy a conjuror as well as a Christian 
The magic root Strange meeting with Covey His manner 
Covey's Sunday face Author's defensive resolve The fight 
The victory, and its results 164 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
NEW RELATIONS AND DUTIES. 

Change of masters Benefits derived by change Fame of the 
fight with Covey Reckless unconcern Author's abhorrence of 
slavery Ability to read a cause of prejudice The holidays 







10 CONTENTS. 

How spent Sharp hit at slavery Effects of holidays Difft 
ence between Covey and Freeland An irreligious mash j 
preferred to a religious one Hard life at Covey's useful to th ^ 
author Improved condition does not bring contentment Con- 
genial society at Freeland's Author's Sabbath-school Secrecy 
necessary Affectionate relations of tutor and pupils Conn- i 
dence and friendship among slaves Slavery the inviter of 
vengeance 179 

CHAPTER XIX. 
THE RUNAWAY PLOT. 

New Year's thoughts and meditations Again hired by Freeland 
Kindness no compensation for slavery Incipient steps toward 
escape Considerations leading thereto Hostility to slavery 
Solemn vow taken Plan divulged to slaves Columbian orator 
again Scheme gains favor Danger of discovery Skill of 
slaveholders Suspicion and coercion Hymns with double 
meaning Consultation Pass-word Hope and fear Ignorance 
of Geography Imaginary difficulties Patrick Henry Sandy 
a dreamer Route to the north mapped out Objections Frauds 
Passes Anxieties Fear of failure Strange presentiment 
Coincidence Betrayal Arrests Resistance Mrs. Freeland 
Prison Brutal Jests Passes eaten Denial Sandy Dragged 
behind horses Slave traders Alone in prison Sent to Balti- 
more 191 

CHAPTER XX. 

APPRENTICESHIP LIFE. 

Nothing lost in my attempt to run away Comrades at home 
Reasons for sending me away Return to Baltimore Tommy 
changed Caulking in Gardiner's ship yard Desperate fight 
Its causes Conflict between white and black labor Outrage 
Testimony Master Hugh Slavery in Baltimore My condi- 
tion improves New associations Slaveholder's right to the 
slaVe's wages How to make a discontented slave. . . .219 

CHAPTER XXI. 
ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY. 

Closing incidents in my "Life as a Slave " Discontent Suspi- 
cions Master's generosity Difficulties in the way of escape-r- 



CONTENTS. 11 

Plan to obtain money Allowed to hire my time A gleam of 
hope Attend camp-meeting Anger of Master Hugh The 
result Plans of escape Day for departure fixed Harassing 
doubts and fears Painful thoughts of separation from friends. 233 



SECOND PAET. 



CHAPTER I. 
ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY. 

Reasons for not having revealed the manner of escape Nothing 
of romance in the method Danger Free papers Unjust tax 
Protection papers " Free trade and sailors' rights " American 
eagle Railroad train Unobserving conductor Capt. Mc- 
Gowan Honest German Fears Safe arrival in Philadelphia 
Ditto in New York. . 242 



CHAPTER II. 
LIFE AS A FREEMAN. 

Loneliness and insecurity " Allender's Jake "Succored by a 
sailor David Ruggles Marriage Steamer J. W. Richmond 
Stage to New Bedford Arrival there Driver's detention of 
baggage Nathan Johnson Change of name Why called 
"Douglass" Obtaining Work The Liberator and its Editor. 250 



CHAPTER III. 
INTRODUCED TO THE ABOLITIONISTS. 

Anti-Slavery Convention at Nantucket First Speech Much Sen- 
sation Extraordinary Speech of Mr. Garrison Anti-Slavery 
Agency Youthful Enthusiasm Fugitive Slaveship Doubted 
Experience in slavery written Danger of Recapture. 



12 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 
RECOLLECTIONS OF OLD FRIENDS. 

"Work in Rhode Island Dorr War Recollections of old friends 
Further labors in Rhode Island and elsewhere in New Eng- 
land 272 

CHAPTER V. 

. 

ONE HUNDRED CONVENTIONS. 

Anti-Slavery Conventions held in parts of New England, and in 
some of the Middle and Western States Mobs Incidents, etc. 280 

CHAPTER VI. 
IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Danger to be averted A refuge sought abroad Voyage on the 
steamship Cambria Refusal of first-class passage Attractions 
of the fore-castle deck Hutchinson family Invited to make a 
speech Southerners feel insulted Captain threatens to put 
them hi irons Experiences abroad Attentions received Im- 
pressions of different members of Parliament, and of other public 
men Contrast with life in America Kindness of friends 
Their purchase of my person, and the gift of the same to my- 
self My return 289 

CHAPTER VII. 

TRIUMPHS AND TRIALS. 

New Experiences Painful Disagreement of Opinion with old 
Friends Final Decision to publish my Paper in Rochester 
Its Fortunes and its Friends Change in my own Views Re- 
garding the Constitution of the United States Fidelity to 
Conviction Loss of Old Friends Support of New Ones Loss 
of House, etc. , by Fire Triumphs and Trials Underground 
Railroad Incidents . .320 

CHAPTER VIII. 
JOHN BROWN AND MRS. STOWE. 

My First Meeting with Capt. John Brown The Free Soil Move- 
ment Colored Convention Uncle Tom's Cabin Industrial 
School for Colored People Letter to Mrs. H. B. Stowe. . f .337 



CONTENTS. 13 



CHAPTER IX. 
INCREASING DEMANDS OF THE SLAVE POWER. 

Increased demands of slavery War in Kansas John Brown's 
raid His capture and execution My escape to England from 
United States marshals 360 

CHAPTER X. 
THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

My connection with John Brown To and from England Presi- 
dential contest Election of Abraham Lincoln. . . . 383 

CHAPTER XI. 
SECESSION AND WAR 

Recruiting of the 54th and 55th Colored Regiments Visit to 
President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton Promised a Commis- 
sion as Adjutant-General to General Thomas Disappointment. 408 

CHAPTER XII. 
HOPE FOR THE NATION. 

Proclamation of emancipation Its reception in Boston Objec- 
tions brought against it Its effect on the country Interview 
with President Lincoln New York riots Re-election of Mr. 
Lincoln His inauguration, and inaugural Vice-President 
Johnson Presidential reception The fall of Richmond 
Fanueil Hall The assassination Condolence .... 436 

CHAPTER XIII. 
VAST CHANGES. 

Satisfaction and anxiety, new fields of labor opening Lyceums 
and colleges soliciting addresses Literary attractions Pecu- 
niary gain Still pleading for human rights President Andy 
Johnson Colored delegation Their reply to him National 
Loyalist Convention, 1866, and its procession Not wanted 
Meeting with an old friend Joj- and surprise The old master's 
welcome, and Miss Amanda's friendship Enfranchisement 
debated and accomplished The negro a citizen. . . . 453 



14 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIY. 

LIVING AND LEARNING. | 

Inducement to a political career Objections A newspaper en- 
terprise The New National Era Its abandonment The 
Freedman's Saving and Trust Company Sad experience 
Vindication. .......... 484 

CHAPTER XY. 

WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 

The Santo Domingo controversy Decoration Day at Arlington, 
1871 Speech delivered there National colored convention at 
New Orleans, 1873 Elector at large for the State of New York 
Death of Hon. Henry Wilson 494 

CHAPTER XVI. 
"TIME MAKES ALL THINGS EVEN." 

Return to "old master" A last interview Capt. Auld's admis- 
sion "had I been in your place, I should have done as you 
did " Speech at Easton The old jail there Invited to a sail 
on the revenue cutter Guthrie Hon. John L. Thomas Visit 
to the old plantation Home of Col. Lloyd Kind reception and 
attentions Familiar scenes Old memories Burial-ground 
Hospitality Gracious reception from Mrs. Buchanan A little 
girl's floral gift A promise of a "good time coming " Speech 
at Harper's Ferry, Decoration day, 1881 Storer College Hon. 
A. J. Hunter. 533 

CHAPTER XVII. 
INCIDENTS AND EVENTS. 

Hon. Gerrit Smith and Mr. E. C. Delevan Experiences at Hotels 
and on Steamboats and other modes of travel Hon. Edward 
Marshall Grace Greenwood Hon. Moses Norris Robert J. 
Ingersoll Reflections and conclusions Compensations. . . 551 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
"HONOR TO WHOM HONOR." 

Grateful recognition Friends in need Lucretia Mott Lydia 
Maria Child Sarah and Angelina Grimke Abby Kelley H. 
Beecher Stowe Other Friends Woman Suffrage. . . . 566 



CONTENTS. 15 

CHAPTER XIX. 

RETROSPECTION. 

Meeting of colored citizens in Washington to express their sym- 
pathy at the great national bereavement, the death of President 
Garfield Concluding reflections and conviction. . . 577 



APPENDIX. 

Oration at the unveiling of the Freedmen's monument, at Lin- 
coln Park, Washington, D. C. , April 14, 1876 Extract from a 
speech delivered at Elmira, N. Y., August 1, 1880. . . .584 




PAGE. 
1. PORTKAIT OF THE AUTHOR ON STEEL, . . . Face title. 



2. THE LAST TIME HE SAW HIS MOTJpJR, . . .36 

3. WHIPPING OP OLD BARNEY, . . . . .70 

4. GORE SHOOTING DENBY, . . . . .79 

5. MRS. AULD TEACHING HIM TO READ, . . .94 

6. FOUND IN THE WOODS BY SANDY, .... 166 

7. DRIVEN TO JAIL FOR RUNNING AWAY, . . . 208 

8. HlS PRESENT HOME IN WASHINGTON, . . . 243 

9. AT THE WHARF IN NEWPORT, .... 254 

10. FIGHTING THE MOB IN INDIANA, .... 285 

11. PORTRAIT OF JOHN BROWN, , 335 

12. PORTRAIT OF WM. LLOYD GARRISON, . . .403 

13. PORTRAIT OF WENDELL PHILLIPS, . . . .461 

14. PORTRAIT OF CHARLES SUMNER, . .497 

15. COMMISSIONERS TO SANTO DOMINGO, .... 503 

16. MARSHAL AT PRESIDENT GARFIELD'S INAUGURATION, . 521 

17. REVISITS HIS OLD HOME, ..... 545 

18. PORTRAIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN ON STEEL, . . 599 



r 



t 




INTRODUCTION. 



TUST what this country has in store to benefit or to startle the 
fj world in the future, no tongue can tell. We know full well the 
wonderful things which have occurred or have been accomplished 
here in the past, but the still more wonderful things which we may 
well say will happen in the centuries of development which lie be- 
fore us, is vain conjecture ; it lies in the domain of speculation. 

America will be the field for the demonstration of truths not now 
accepted and the establishment of a new and higher civilization. 
Horace Walpole's prophecy will be verified when there shall be a 
Xenophon at New York and a Thucydides at Boston. Up to this 
time the most remarkable contribution this country has given to the 
world is the Author and subject of this book, now being introduced 
to the public Frederick Douglass. The contribution comes natu- 
rally and legitimately and to some not unexpectedly, nevertheless it 
is altogether unique and must be regarded as truly remarkable. 
Our Pantheon contains many that are illustrious and worthy, but 
Douglass is unlike all others, he is sui generis. For every other 
great character we can bring forward, Europe can produce another 
equally as great ; when we bring forward Douglass, he cannot be 
matched. 

Douglass was born a slave, he won his liberty ; he is of negro 
extraction, and consequently was despised and outraged; he has by 
his own energy and force of character commanded the respect of 
the Nation ; he was ignorant, he has, against law and by stealth 
and entirely unaided, educated himself; he was poor, he has by 
honest toil and industry become rich and independent, so to speak ; 
he, a chattel slave of a hated and cruelly wronged race, in the teeth 
of American prejudice and in face of nearly every kind of hindrance 
and draw-back, has come to be one of the foremost orators of the 
age, with a reputation established on both sides of the Atlantic ; a 
writer of power and elegance of expression ; a thinker whose views 

cm 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

arc potent in controlling and shaping public opinion ; a higi ncer 
in the National Government; a cultivated gentleman whosc__ -aitues 
as a husband, father, and citizen are the highest honor a marl can 
have. 

Frederick Douglass stands upon a pedestal ; he has reached this 
lofty height through years of toil and strife, but it has been the 
strife of moral ideas ; strife in the battle for human rights. No 
bitter memories come from this strife ; no feelings of remorse can 
rise to cast their gloomy shadows over his soul ; Douglass has now 
reached and passed the meridian of life, his co-laborers in the strife 
have now nearly all passed away. Garrison has gone, Gerritt Smith 
has gone, Giddingsand Sumnerhave gone, nearly all the abolition- 
ists are gone to their reward. The culmination of his life work has 
been reached ; the object dear to his heart the Emancipation of the 
slaves had been accomplished, through the blessings of God ; he 
stands facing the goal, already reached by his co-laborers, with a 
halo of peace about him, and nothing but serenity and gratitude 
must fill his breast. To those, who in the past in ante-lellum days 
in any degree shared with Douglass his hopes and feelings on the 
slavery question, this serenity of mind, this gratitude, can be under- 
stood and felt. All Americans, no matter what may have been their 
views on slavery, now that freedom has come and slavery is ended, 
must have a restful feeling and be glad that the source of bitterness 
and trouble is removed. The man who is sorry because of the 
abolition of slavery, has outlived his day and generation ; he should 
have insisted upon being buried with the "lost cause " at Appo- 
matox. 

We rejoice that Douglass has attained unto this exalted position 
this pedestal. It has been honorably reached ; it is a just recogni- 
tion of talent and effort; it is another proof that success attends 
high and noble aim. With this example, the black boy as well as 
the white boy can take hope and courage in the race of life. 

Douglass' life has been a romance and a fragrance to the age. 
There has been just enough mystery about his origin and escape 
from slavery to throw a charm about them. The odd proceedings 
in the purchase of his freedom after his escape from slavery; his 
movements in connection with the John Brown raid at Harper's 
Ferry and his subsequent flight across the ocean are romantic as 
anything which took place among the crags and the cliffs, the 
Roderick Dhus and Douglasses of the Lady of the Lake; while the 
pure life he has led and his spotless character are sweet by contrast 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

witK&the lives of more politicians and time-serving statesmen. It 
is \vtVll to contemplate one like him, who has had " hair-breadth 
escapes." It is inspiring to know that the day of self-sacrifice and 
self-development are not passed. 

To say that his life has been eventful, is hardly the word. From 
the time when he first saw the light on the Tuckahoe plantation up 
to the time he was called to fill a high official position, his life has 
been crowded with events which in some sense may be called mira- 
cles, and now since his autobiography has come to be written, we 
must understand the hour of retrospect has come for casting up 
and balancing accounts as to work done or left undone. 

It is more than forty years now that he has been before the world 
as a writer and speaker busy, active, wonderful years to him and 
we are called upon to pass judgment upon his labors. What can 
we say? Can he claim the well done good and faithful? The 
record shows this, and we must state it, generally speaking, his life 
had been devoted to his race and the cause of his race. The free- 
dom and elevation of his people has been his life work, and it has 
been done well and faithfully. That is the record, and that is suffi- 
cient. No higher eulogium can be pronounced than that Long- 
fellow says of the Village Blacksmith : 

" Something attempted, something done, 
Has earned a night's repose." 

P 

Douglass found his people enslaved and oppressed. He has given 
the best years of his life to the improvement of their condition, and, 
now that he looks back upon his labors, may he not say he has 
" attempted " and u done " something? and may he not claim the 
"repose" which ought to come in the evening of a well spent 
life? 

The first twenty-three years of Douglass' life were twenty-three 
years of slavery, obscurity, and degradation, yet doubtless in time 
to come these years will be regarded by the student of history the 
most interesting portion of his life ; to those who in the future 
would know the inside history of American slavery, this part of his 
life will be specially instructive. Plantation life at Tuckahoe as 
related by him is not fiction, it is fact ; it is not the historian's dis- 
sertation on slavery, it is slavery itself, the sjave's life, -acts, and" 
thoughts, and the life, acts, and thoughts of those around him. It 
is Macauley ( I think) who says that a copy of a daily newspaper 
[if there were such] published at Rome would give more informa- 
tion and be of more value than any history we have. So, too, this 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

I 

photographic view of slave life as given to us in the autobiography 
of an ex-slave will give to the reader a clearer insight of the system 
of slavery than can be gained from the examination of general history. 

Col. Lloyd's plantation, where Douglass belonged, was very much 
like other plantations of the south. Here was the great house and 
the cabins, the old Aunties, and patriarchal Uncles, little picannin- 
ies and picarminies not so little, of every shade of complexion, from 
ebony black to whiteness of the master race ; mules, overseers, and 
broken down fences. Here was the negro Doctor learned in the 
science of roots and herbs; also the black conjurer with his divina- 
tion. Here was slave-breeding and slave-selling, whipping, tortur- 
ing and beating to death. All this came under the observation of 
Douglass and is a part of the education he received while under the 
yoke of bondage. He was there in the midst of this confusion, 
ignorance, and brutality. Little did the overseer on this plantation 
think that he had in his gang a man of superior order and un- 
daunted spirit, whose mind, far above the minds of the grovelling 
creatures about him, was at that very time plotting schemes for his 
liberty ; nor did the thought ever enter the mind of Col. Lloyd, 
the rich slaveholder, that he had upon his estate one who was des- 
tined to assail the system of slavery with more power and effect 
than any other person. 

Douglass' fame will rest mainly, no doubt, upon his oratory. 
His powers in this direction are very great, and, in some respects, 
unparalleled by our living speakers. His oratory is his own, and 
apparently formed after the model of no single person. It is not 
after the Edmund Burke style, which has been so closely followed 
by Everett, Sumner, and others, and which has resulted in giving 
us splendid and highly embellished essays rather than natural and 
not overwrought speeches. If his oratory must be classified, it 
should be placed somewhere between the Fox and Henry Clay 
schools. Like Clay, Douglass' greatest effect is upon his immediate 
hearers, those who see him and feel his presence, and, like Clay, a 
good part of his oratorical fame will be tradition. The most strik- 
ing feature of Douglass' oratory is his fire, not the quick and 
flashy kind, but the steady and intense kind. Years ago, on the 
anti-slavery platform, in some sudden and unbidden outburst of 
passion and indignation, he has been known to awe-inspire his lis- 
teners as though ^Etna were there. 

If oratory consists of the power to move men by spoken words, 
Douglass is a complete orator. He can make men laugh or cry, at 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

his v.'ill. He has power of statement, logic, withering denuncia- 
tion, - j)athos, humor, and inimitable wit. Daniel Webster, with his 
Immense intellectuality, had no humor, not a particle. It does not 
appear that he could even see the point of a joke. Douglass is 
brim full of humor, at times, of the dryest kind. It is of a quiet 
kind. You can see it coming a long way off in a peculiar twitch of 
liis mouth. It increases and broadens gradually until it becomes 
irresistible and all-pervading with his audience. 

Douglass' rank as a writer is high, and justly so. His writings, 
if anything, are more meritorious than his speaking. For many 
: krears he was the editor of newspapers, doing all of the editorial 
hvork. He has contributed largely to magazines. He is a forcible 
knd thoughtful writer. His style is pure and graceful, and he has 
treat felicity of expression. His written productions, in finish, 
compare favorably with the written productions of our most culti- 
Brated writers. His style comes partly, no doubt, from his long and 
Jbonstant practice, but the true source is his clear mind, which is 
Swell stored by a close acquaintance with the best authors. His 
'[range of reading has been wide and extensive. He has been a hard 
jstudent. In every sense of the word, he is a self-made man. By 
dint of hard study he has educated himself, and to-day it may be 
said he has a well-trained intellect. He has surmounted the disad- 
vantage of not having a university education, by application and 
well-directed effort. He seems to have realized the fact, that to 
' one who is anxious to become educated and is really in earnest, it is 
not positively necessary to go to college, and that information may 
be had outside of college walks ; books may be obtained and read 
elsewhere. They are not chained to desks in college libraries, as 
i they were in early times at Oxford. Professors' lectures may be 
* bought already printed, learned doctors may be listened to in the 
[ lyceum, and the printing-press has made it easy and cheap to get 
I information on every subject and topic that is discussed and taught 
in the university. Douglass never made the mistake (a common 
one) of considering that his education was finished. He has con- 
tinued to study, he studies now, and is a growing man, and at this 
present moment he is a stronger man intellectually than ever 
before. 

Soon after Douglass' escape from Maryland to the Northern 
States, he commenced his public career. It was at New Bedford, 
as a local Methodist preacher, and by taking part in small public 
meetings held by colored people, wherein anti-slavery and other 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

matters were discussed. There he laid the foundation of the splen- 
did career which is now about drawing to a close. In these 'meet- 
ings Douglass gave evidence that he possessed uncommon powers, 
and it was plainly to be seen that he needed only a field and oppor- 
tunity to display them. That field and opportunity soon came, as 
it always does to possessors of genius. He became a member and 
agent of the American Anti-Slavery society. Then commenced his 
great crusade against slavery in behalf of his oppressed brethren at 
the South. 

He waged violent and unceasing war against slavery. He went 
through every town and hamlet in the Free States, raising his voice 
against the iniquitous system. 

Just escaped from the prison-house himself, to tear down the 
walls of the same and to let the oppressed go free was the mission 
which engaged the powers of his soul and body. North, East, and^ 
West, all through the land went this escaped slave, delivering his 
warning message against the doomed cities of the South. The 
ocean did not stop nor hinder him. Across the Atlantic he went 
through England, Ireland, and Scotland. Wherever people could 
be found to listen to his story, he pleaded the cause of his enslave 
and down-trodden brethren with vehemence and great power. 
From 1840 to 1861, the time of the commencement of the civil 
war, which extirpated slavery in this country, Douglass was continu- 
ally speaking on the platform, writing for his newspaper and for 
magazines, or working in conventions for the abolition of slavery. 

The life and work of Douglass has been a complete vindication 
of the colored people in this respect. It has refuted and over- 
thrown the position taken by some writers, that colored people 
were deficient in mental qualifications and were incapable of attain- 
ing high intellectual position. We may reasonably expect to hear 
no more of this now, the argument is exploded. Douglass has set- 
tled the fact the right way, and it is something to settle a fact. 

That Douglass is a brave man there can be little doubt. He has 
physical as well as moral courage. His encounter with the over- 
seer of the eastern shore plantation attests his pluck. There the 
odds were against him, everything was against him. There the 
unwritten rule of law was, that the negro who dared to strike a 
white man must be killed ; but Douglass fought the overseer and 
whipped him. His plotting with other slaves to escape, writing 
and giving them passes, and the unequal and desperate fight main- 
tained by him in the Baltimore ship yard, where law and public 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

sent jment were against Mm, also show that he has courage. But 
since the day of his slavery, while living here at the North, many 
instances have happened which show very plainly that he is a man 
of ctkirage and determination. If he had not been, he would have 
long since succumbed to the brutality and violence of the low and 
mean-spirited people found in the Free States. 

Up to a- very recent date it has been deemed quite safe, even here 
in the North, to insult and impose on inoffensive colored people, to 
elbow a colored man from the sidewalk, to jeer at him and apply 
vile epithets to him. In some localities this has been the rule and 
not the exception, and to put him out of public conveyances and 
public places by force was of common occurrence. It made little 
difference that the colored man was decent, civil, and respectably 
clad, and had paid his fare. If the proprietor of the place or his 
patrons tookj;he notion that the presence of the colored man was 
an affront to their dignity or inconsistent with their notions of self- 
respect, out he must go. Nor must he stand upon th.e order of his 
going, but go at once. It was against this feeling that Douglass 
had to contend. He met it often. He was a prominent colored 
man traveling from place to place. A good part of the time he 
was in strange cities, stopping at strange taverns that is, when he 
was allowed to stop. Time and again has he been refused accom- 
modation in hotels. Time and again has he been in a strange place 
with nowhere to lay his head until some kind anti-slavery person 
would come forward and give him shelter. 

The writer of this remembers well, because he was present and 
saw the transaction, the John Brown meeting in Tremont Temple, 
in 1860, when a violent mob, composed of the rough element from 
the slums of the city, led and encouraged by bankers and brokers, 
came into the hall to break up the meeting. Douglass was presid- 
ing. The mob was armed; the police were powerless; the mayor 
could not or would not do anything. On came the mob, surging 
through the aisles, over benches, and upon the platform. The 
women in the audience became alarmed and fled. The hirelings 
were prepared to do anything ; they had the power and could with 
impunity. Douglass sat upon the platform with a few chosen 
spirits, cool and undaunted. The mob had got about and around 
him. He did not heed their howling nor was he moved by their 
threats. It was not until their leader, a rich banker., with his fol- 
lowers, had mounted the platform and wrenched the chair from 
under him that he was dispossessed. By main force and personal 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

violence (Douglass resisting all the time) they removed him from 
the platform. 

It affords me great pleasure to introduce to the public this book, 
"The Life and Times of Frederick Douglass." I am glad of the 
opportunity to present a work which tells the story of the rise and 
progress of our most celebrated colored man. To the names of 
Toussaint L'Overture and Alexander Dumas is to be added that of 
Frederick Douglass. We point with pride to this trio of illustrious 
names. I bid my follow countrymen take new hope and courage. 
The near future will bring us other men of worth and genius, and 
our list of illustrious names will become lengthened. Until that 
time the duty is to work and wait. 

Respectfully, 

GEORGE L. RUFFIN. 



LIFE AS A SLAVE. 



CHAPTER I. 

AUTHOR'S BIRTH. 

Author's place of birth Description of country Its inhabitants 
Genealogical trees Method of counting time in slave districts 
Date of author's birth Names of grandparents Their cabin 
Home with them Slave practice of separating mothers from their 
children 'Author's recollections of his mother Who was his 
father? 

IN Talbot County, Eastern Shore, State of Maryland, 
near Easton, the county town, 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. 
It was in this dull, flat, and unthrifty district or neighbor- 
hood, bordered by the Choptank river, among the laziest 
and muddiest of streams, surrounded by a white popula- 
tion of the lowest order, indolent and drunken to a pro- 
verb, and among slaves who, in point of ignorance and 
indolence, were fully in accord with their surroundings, 
that I, without any fault of my own, was born, and spent 
the first years of my childhood. 

The reader must not expect me to say much of my 
family. Genealogical trees did not flourish among slaves. 
A person of some consequence in civilized society, some- 
times designated as father, was literally unknown to 
2 (25) 







26 HIS GKANDMOTHER. I 

slave law and slave practice. I never met with a 
slave in that part of the country who could tell me with 
any certainty how old he was. Few at that time knew 
anything of the months of the year or of the days of the 
month. They measured the ages of their children by 
spring-time, winter-time, harvest-time, planting-time, and 
the like. Masters allowed no questions to be put to them 
by slaves concerning their ages. Such questions were 
regarded by the masters as evidence of an impudent curi- 
osity. From certain events, however, the dates of which 
I have since learned, I suppose myself to have been born 
in February, 1817. 

My first experience of life, as I now remember it, and I 
remember it but hazily, began in the family of my grand- 
mother and grandfather, Betsey and Isaac Bailey. 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 was 
the lot of most colored persons in that region. She was 
a good nurse, and a capital hand at making nets used for 
catching shad and herring, and was, withal, somewhat 
famous as a fisherwoman. I have known her to be in 
the water waist deep, for hours, seine-hauling. She was 
a gardener as well as a fisherwoman, and remarkable for 
her success in keeping her seedling sweet potatoes through 
the months of winter, and easily got the reputation of 
being born to " good luck." In planting-time Grand- 
mother Betsey was sent for in all directions, simply to 
place the seedling potatoes in the hills or drills; for 
superstition had it that her touch was needed to make 
them grow. This reputation was full of advantage to her 
and her grandchildren, for a good crop, after her plant- 
ing for the neighbors, brought her a share of the har- 
vest. 

Whether because she was too old for field service, or 



HIS PARENTS. 27 

because she had so faithfully discharged the duties of her 
station in early life, I know not, but she enjoyed the high 
privilege of living in a cabin separate from the quarters, 
having only the charge of the young children and the bur- 
den of her own support imposed upon her. She esteemed 
it great good fortune to live so, and took much comfort 
in having the children. The practice of separating^? 
mothers from their children and hiring them out at dis- 
tanc.es too great to admit of their meeting, save at long 
intervals, was a marked feature of the cruelty and bar- 
barity of the slave system ; but it was in harmony with 
the grand aim of that system, which always and every- 
where sought to reduce man to a level with the brute. It 
had no interest in recognizing or preserving any of the 
ties that bind families together or to their homes. 

My grandmother's five daughters were hired out in this ' 
way, and my only recollections of my own mother are of 
a few hasty visits made in the night on foot, after the 
daily tasks were over, and when she was under the neces- 
sity of returning in time to respond to the driver's call to 
the field in the early morning. These little glimpses of 
my mother, obtained under such circumstances and 
against such odds, meager as they were, are ineffaceably 
stamped upon my memory. She was tall and finely pro- 
portioned, of dark, glossy complexion, with regular fea- 
tures, and amongst the slaves was remarkably sedate and 
dignified. There is, in " Prichard's Natural History of 
Man," the head of a figure, on page 157, the features of 
which so resemble my mother that I often recur to it 
with something of the feelings which I suppose others ex- 
perience Avhen looking upon the likenesses of their own 
dear departed ones. 

Of my father I know nothing. Slavery had no recog- 
nition of fathers, as none of families. That the mother 
was a slave was enough for its deadly purpose. By its 



28 RELATIONS OF FATHER TO HIS CHILDREN. 

law the child followed the condition of its mother. The 
father might be a freeman and the child a slave. The 
father might be a white man, glorying in the purity of his 
Anglo-Saxon blood, and the child ranked with the blackest 
slaves. Father he might be, and not be husband, and 
could sell his own child without incurring reproach, if in 
its veins coursed one drop of African blood. 



CHAPTER II. 

KEMOVAL FROM GRANDMOTHER'S. 

Author's early home Its charms Author's ignorance of "old mas- 
ter" His gradual perception of the truth concerning him His 
relations to Col. Edward Lloyd Author's removal to "old mas- 
ter's " home His journey thence His separation from his grand- 
mother His grief. 

LIVING thus with my grandmother, whose kindness 
and love stood in place of my mother's, it was some 
time before I knew myself to be a slave. I knew many 
other things before I knew that. Her little cabin 
had to me the attractions of a palace. Its fence-railed 
floor which was equally floor and bedstead up stairs, 
and its clay floor down stairs, its dirt and straw chimney, 
and windowless sides, and that most curious piece of 
workmanship, the ladder stairway, and the hole so strange- 
ly dug in front of the fire-place, beneath which grand- 
mamma placed her sweet potatoes, to keep them from 
frost in winter, were full of interest to my childish obser- 
vation. The squirrels, as they skipped the fences, 
climbed the trees, or gathered their nuts, were an unceas- 
ing delight to me. 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. Nor were these all 
the attractions of the place. At a little distance stood 
Mr. Lee's mill, where the people came in large numbers 
to get their corn ground. I can never tell the many 

(29) 



30 MY OLD MASTER. ' 

"*^ 

things thought and felt, as I sat on the bank a^H watched 
that mill, and the turning of its ponderous wheel. The 
mill-pond, too, had its charms ; and with my piif N^pk 
and thread-line, I could get amusing nibbles if I ^ k uid 
catch no fish. 

It was not long, however, before I began to learn the* 
sad fact that this house of my childhood belonged not to 
my dear old grandmother, but to some one I had never 
seen, and who lived a great distance off. I learned, too, 
the sadder fact, that not only the home and lot, but that 
grandmother herself and all the little children around 
her belonged to a mysterious personage, called by grand- 
mother, with every mark of reverence, u Old Master." 
Thus early did clouds and shadows begin to fall upon my 
path. 

I learned that this old master, whose name seemed 
ever to be mentioned with fear and shuddering, only 
allowed the little children to live with grandmother for a 
limited time, and that as soon as they were big enough 
they were promptly taken away to live with the said old 
master. These were distressing revelations, indeed. My 
grandmother was all the world to me, and the thought of 
being separated from her was a most unwelcome sugges- 
tion to my affections and hopes. This mysterious 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 Colonel Lloyd, had 
overseers as well as slaves on his own farms, and gave 
directions to the overseers on the farms owned by Colonel 
Lloyd. Captain Aaron Anthony, for such is the name 
and title of my old master, lived on Colonel Lloyd's plan- 
tation, which was situated on the Wye river, and which 
was one of the largest, most fertile, and best appointed 
in the State. 

About this plantation and this old master I was most 



HIS REMOVAL TO COLONEL LLOYD'S. 31 

eager to know everything which could be known; 
and, unhappily for me, all the information I could get 
concerning him increased my dread of being separated 
from my grandmother and grandfather. I wished it was 
possible I could remain small all my life, knowing that 
the sooner I grew large the shorter would be my time to 
remain with them. Everything about the cabin became 
doubly dear, and I was sure there could be no other spot 
equal to it on earth. But the time came when I must go, 
and my grandmother, knowing my fears, in pity for 
them, kindly kept me ignorant of the dreaded moment 
up to the morning (a beautiful summer morning) when 
we were to start; and, indeed, during the whole journey, 
which, child as I was, I remember as well as if it were 
yesterday, she kept the unwelcome truth hidden from me. 
The distance from Tuckahoe to Colonel Lloyd's, 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 "toteing" me on 
her shoulder. Advanced in years as she was, as was evi- 
dent from the more than one gray hair which peeped 
from between the ample and graceful folds of her newly 
and smoothly-ironed bandana turban, grandmother was 
yet a woman of power and spirit. She was remarkably 
straight in figure, elastic and muscular in movement. I 
seemed hardly to be a burden to her. She would have 
u toted" me farther, but I felt myself too much of a man 
to allow it. Yet while I walked I was not independent 
of her. She often found me holding her skirts 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 enormous animals. I could plainly 
see their legs, eyes, ears, and teeth, till I got close 



32 HIS BROTHER AND SISTERS. 

enough to see that the eyes were knots, washed white 
with rain, and the legs were broken limbs, and the ears 
and teeth only such because of the point from which they 
were seen. 

As the day advanced the heat increased, and it was not 
until the afternoon that we reached the much-dreaded 
end of the journey. Here I found myself in the midst 
of a group of children of all sizes and of many colors, - 
black, brown, copper-colored, and nearly white. I had 
not seen so many children before. As a new-comer I 
was an object of special interest. After laughing and 
yelling around me and playing all sorts of wild tricks, 
they asked me to go out and play with them. This I 
refused to do. Grandmamma looked sad, and I could 
not help feeling that our being there boded no good to 
me. She was soon to lose another object of affection, 
as she had lost many before. Affectionately patting me 
on the head, she told me to be a good boy and go out to 
play with the children. They are " kin to you," she said, 
"go and play with them." She pointed out to me my 
brother Perry, my sisters, Sarah and Eliza. I had never 
seen them 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. Broth- 
ftjft pnrl Bisters we were by blood, but slavery hn.tl ma3e 
jis stra.np^rs. They were already initiated into the mys- 
teries of old master's domicile, and they seemed to look 
upon me with a certain degree of compassion. I really 
wanted to play with them, but they were strangers to me, 
and I was full of fear that my grandmother might teave 
for home 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 playy^'v? 



j HIS GRIEF. 33 

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, grand- 
mamma gone ! " I could not believe it. Yet, fearing the 
worst, I ran into the kitchen to see for myself, and lo! 
she was indeed gone, and was now far away, and "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 com- 
forted. My brother gave me peaches and pears to quiet 
me, but I promptly threw them on the ground. 1 had 
. never been deceived before, and something of resentment 
at this mingled with my grief at parting with my grand- 
mother. 

It was now late in the afternoon. The day had been 
an exciting and wearisome one, and I know not where, 
but I suppose I sobbed myself to sleep ; and its balm was 
never more welcome to any wounded soul than to mine. 
The reader may be surprised that I relate so minutely an 
incident apparently so trivial, and which must have 
occurred when I was less than seven years old; but, as I 
wish to give a faithful history of my experience in slav- 
ery, I cannot withhold a circumstance which at the time 
affected me so deeply, and which I still remember so 
vividly. Besides, this was^ my first introduction to ihe 
realities of the slave system.""" 



CHAPTER III. 

TROUBLES OF CHILDHOOD. 

Col. Lloyd's plantation Aunt Katy Her cruelty and ill-nature 
Capt. Anthony's partiality to Aunt Katy Allowance of food 
Author's hunger Unexpected rescue by his mother The reproof 
of Aunt Katy Sleep A slave-mother's love Author's inheritance 
His mother's acquirements Her death. 

ONCE established on the home plantation of Col. 
Lloyd I was with the children there, left to the 
tender mercies of Aunt Katy, a slave woman, who was to 
my master what he was to Col. Lloyd. Disposing of us in 
classes or sizes, he left to Aunt Katy all the minor details 
concerning our management. She was a woman who 
never allowed herself to act greatly within the limits of 
delegated power, no matter how broad that authority 
might be. Ambitious of old master's favor, ill-tempered 
and cruel by nature, she found in her present position an 
ample field for the exercise of her ill-omened qualities. 
She had a strong hold upon old master, for she was a 
first-rate cook, and very industrious. She was therefore 
greatly favored by him and as one mark of his favor she 
was the only mother who was permitted to retain her 
children around her, and even to these, her own children, 
she was often fiendish in her brutality. Cruel, however, 
as she sometimes was to her own children, she was not 
destitute of maternal feeling, and in her instinct to satisfy 
their demands for food she was often guilty of starving 
me and the other children. Want of food was my chief 
trouble during my first summer here. 'Captain Anthony, 
instead of allowing a given quantity of food to each slave, 

(34) 




AUNT KATY OFFENDED. 

committed the allowance for all to Aunt Katy, to be 
vided by her, after cooking, amongst us. The allowance 
consisted of coarse corn-meal, not very abundant, and 
which, by passing through Aunt Katy's hands, became more 
slender still for some of us. I have often been so pinched 
with hunger as to dispute with old " Nep," the dog, for 
the crumbs which fell from the kitchen table. Many 
times have I followed, with eager step, the waiting-girl 
when she shook the table-cloth, to get the crumbs and 
small bones flung out for the dogs and cats. It was a 
great thing to have the privilege of dipping a piece of 
bread into the water in which meat had been boiled, and 
the skin taken from the rusty bacon was a positive lux- 
ury. With this description of the domestic arrangements 
of my new home, I may here recount a circumstance 
which is deeply impressed 011 my memory, as affording a 
bright gleam of a slave-mother's love, and the earnestness 
of a mother's care. I had offended Aunt Katy. I do 
not remember in what way, for my offences were numer- 
ous in that quarter, greatly depending upon her moods as 
to their heinousness, and she had adopted her usual mode 
of punishing me : namely, making me go all day without 
food. For the first hour or two after dinner time, I suc- 
ceeded pretty well in keeping up my spirits ; but as the 
day wore away, I found it quite impossible to do so any 
longer. Sundown came, but no bread ; and in its stead 
came the threat from Aunt Katy, witli a scowl well-suited 
to its terrible import, that she would starve the life out 
of me. Brandishing her knife, she chopped off the heavy 
slices of bread for the other children, and put the loaf 
away, muttering all the while her savage designs upon 
myself. Against this disappointment, for I was expect- 
ing that her heart would relent at last, I made an extra 
effort to maintain my dignity, but when I saw the other 
children around me with satisfied faces, I could stand it 



MY MOTHER'S VISIT. 

no longer. I went out behind the kitchen wall and cried 
like a fine fellow. When wearied with 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 cor- 
ner, I caught sight of an ear of Indian corn upon an 
upper shelf. I watched my chance and got it ; and shell- 
ing off a few grains, I put it back again. These grains I 
quickly put into the hot ashes to roast. I did this at the 
risk of getting a brutal thumping, for Aunt Katy could 
beat as well as starve me. My corn was not long in roast- 
ing, and I eagerly pulled it from the ashes, and placed it 
upon a stool in a clever little pile. I began to help my- 
self, when who but my own dear mother should come in. 
The scene which followed is beyond my power to describe. 
The friendless and hungry boy, in his extremest need, 
found himself in the strong, protecting arms of his 
mother. I have before spoken of my mother's dignified 
and impressive manner. I shall never forget the inde- 
scribable expression of her countenance when I told her 
that Aunt Katy had said she would starve the life out of 
me. There was deep and tender pity in her glance at me, 
and a fiery indignation at Aunt Katy at the same moment, 
and while she took the corn from me, and gave in its 
stead a large ginger-cake, she read Aunt Katy a lecture 
which was never forgotten. That night I learned as I 
had never learned before, that I was not only a child, but 
somebody's child. I was grander upon 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 to find 
my mother gone and myself at the mercy again of the 
virago in my master's kitchen, whose fiery wrath was my 
constant dread. 

My mother had walked twelve miles to see me, and had 
the same distance to travel over again before the morning 
sunrise. I do not remember ever seeing her again. Her 




THE LAST TIME HE SAW HIS MOTHER. 



HER DEATH. 39 

death soon ended the little communication that had ex- 
isted between us, and with it, I believe, a life full of 
weariness and heartfelt sorrow. To me it^has evej been 
a grief that I knew my mother so little, and have so few 
oFherwords treasured in my remembrance. I have sine 
learned that she was the only one of all the colored peo- 
ple of Tuckahoe who could read. How she acquired this 
knowledge I know not, for Tuckahoe was the last place 
in the world where she would have been likely 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 re- 
markable, but the achievement of my mother, consider- 
ing the place and circumstances, was very extraordinary. 
In view of this fact, I am happy to attribute any love of 
letters I may have, not to my presumed Anglo-Saxon 
paternity, but to the native genius of my sable, unpro- 
tected, and uncultivated mother a woman who belonged 
to a race whose mental endowments are still disparaged 
and despised. 



CHAPTER IV. 

A GENERAL SURVEY OF THE SLAVE PLANTATION. 

Home Plantation of Colonel Lloyd Its Isolation Its Industries 
The Slave Rule Power of Overseers Author Finds some Enjoy- 
ment Natural Scenery Sloop "Sally Lloyd" Wind Mill Slave 
Quarter "Old Master's" House Stables, Store Houses, etc., etc. 
The Great House Its Surroundings Lloyd Burial-Place 
Superstition of Slaves Colonel Lloyd's Wealth Negro Politeness 
Doctor Copper Captain Anthony His Family Master Daniel 
Lloyd His Brothers Social Etiquette. 

IT was generally supposed .that slavery in the State of 
Maryland existed in its mildest form, and that it was 
totally divested of those harsh and terrible peculiarities 
which characterized the slave system in the Southern and 
South-Western States of the American Union. The 
ground of this opinion was the contiguity of the free 
States, and the influence of their moral, religious, and 
humane sentiments. Public opinion was, indeed, a meas- 
urable restraint upon the cruelty and barbarity of mas- 
ters, overseers, and slave-drivers, whenever and wherever 
it could reach them ; but there were certain secluded and 
out-of-the-way places, even in the State of Maryland, fifty 
years ago, seldom visited by a single ray of healthy pub- 
lic sentiment, where slavery, wrapt in its own congenial 
darkness, could and did develop all its malign and shock- 
ing characteristics, where it could be indecent without 
shame, cruel without shuddering, and murderous without 
apprehension or fear of exposure or punishment. Just 
such a secluded, dark, and out-of-the-way place was the 
home plantation of Colonel Edward Lloyd, in Talbot 
county, eastern shore of Maryland. It was far away 



COLONEL LLOYD'S PLANTATION. 41 

from all the great thoroughfares of travel and commerce, 
and proximate to no town or village. There was neither 
school-house nor town-house in its neighborhood. The 
school-house was unnecessary, for there were no children 
to go to school. The children and grandchildren of Col. 
Llovd were taught in the house by a private tutor (a Mr. 
Page from Greenfield, Massachusetts, a tall, gaunt sap- 
ling of a man, remarkably dignified, thoughtful, and reti- 
cent, and who did not speak a dozen words to a slave in a 
whole year). The overseer's children went off some- 
where in the State to school, and therefore could bring 
no foreign or dangerous influence from abroad to embar- 
rass the natural operation of the slave system of the 
place. Not even the commonest mechanics, from whom 
there might have been an occasional outburst of honest 
and telling indignation at cruelty and wrong on other 
plantations, were white men here. Its whole public was 
made up of and divided into three classes, slaveholders, 
slaves, and overseers. Its blacksmiths, wheelwrights, 
shoemakers, weavers, and coopers were slaves. Not even 
commerce, selfish and indifferent to moral considerations 
as it usually is, was permitted within its secluded pre- 
cincts. Whether with a view of guarding against the 
escape of its secrets, I know not, but it is a fact, that 
every leaf and grain of the products of this plantation 
and those of the neighboring farms belonging to Col. 
Lloyd were transported to Baltimore in his own vessels, 
every man and boy on board of which, except the captain, 
were owned by him as his property. In return, every- 
thing brought to the plantation came through the same 
channel. To make this isolation more apparent, it may 
be stated that the adjoining estates to Col. Lloyd's were 
owned and occupied by friends of his, who were as 
deeply interested as himself in maintaining the slave sys- 
tem in all its rigor. These were the Tilgrnans, the Gold- 



42 EXPERIENCE DURING CHILDHOOD. 

boroughs, the Loekermans, the Pacas, the Skinners, Gib- 
sons, and others of lesser affluence and standing. 

The fact is, pnh]ig_npininn in such a quarter. tl*e reader 
must see, wasnot likely to be very efficient, in protecting 
the slave from cruelty. To be a restraint upon abuses of 
this nature, opinion must emanate from humane and vir- 
tuous communities, and to no such opinion or influence 
was Col. Lloyd's plantation exposed. It was a little 
nation by itself, having its own language, its own rules, 
regulations, and customs. The troubles and controversies 
arising here were not settled by the civil power of the 
State. The overseer was the important dignitary. He 
was generally accuser, judge, jury, advocate, and execu- 
tioner. The criminal was always dumb, and no slave 
was allowed to testify other than against his brother 
slave. 

There were, of course, no conflicting rights of prop- 
erty, for all the people were the property of one man, and 
they could themselves own no property. Religion and 
politics were largely excluded. One class of the popula- 
tion was too high to be reached by the common preacher, 
and the other class was too low in condition and igno- 
rance to be much cared for by religious teachers, and yet 
some religious ideas did enter this dark corner. 

This, however, is not the only view which the place 
presented. Though civilization was, in many respects, 
shut out, nature could not be. Though separated from 
the rest of the world, though public opinion, as I have 
said, could seldom penetrate its dark domain, though the 
whole place were stamped with its own peculiar iron-like 
individuality, and though crimes, high-handed and atro- 
cious, could be committed there with strange and shock- 
ing impunity, it was, to outward seeming, a most strik- 
ingly interesting place, full of life, activity, and spirit, 
'and presented a very favorable contrast to the indolent 



SLOOP SALLY LLOYD. 43 

monotony and languor of Tuckahoe. It resembled, in 
some respects, descriptions I have since read of the old 
baronial domains of Europe. Keen as was my regret 
and great as was my sorrow at leaving my old home, I 
was not long in adapting myself to this my new one. A 
man's troubles are always half disposed of when he finds 
endurance the only alternative. I found myself here, 
there was no getting away, and naught remained for me 
but to make the best of it. Here were plenty of children 
to play with and plenty of pleasant resorts for boys of 
my age and older. The little tendrils of affection, so 
rudely broken from the darling objects in and around my 
grandmother's home, gradually began to extend and 
twine themselves around the new surroundings. Here, 
for the first time, I saw a large windmill, with its wide- 
sweeping white wings, a commanding object to a child's 
eye. This was situated on what was called Long Point 
a tract of land dividing Miles river from the Wye. I 
spent many hours here watching the wings of this won- 
drous mill. In the river, or what was called the 
"Swash," at a short distance from the shore, quietly 
lying at anchor, with her small row boat dancing at her 
stern, was a large sloop, the Sally Lloyd, called by that 
name in honor of the favorite daughter of the Colonel. 
These two objects, the sloop and mill, as I remember, 
awakened thoughts, ideas, and wondering. Then here 
were a great many houses, human habitations full of the 
mysteries of life at every stage of it. There was the lit- 
tle red house up the road, occupied by Mr. Seveir, the 
overseer. A little nearer to my old master's stood a 
long, low, rough building literally alive with slaves of all 
ages, sexes, conditions, sizes, and colors. This was 
called the long quarter. Perched upon a hili east of our 
house, was a tall, dilapidated old brick building, the 
architectural dimensions of which proclaimed its creation 



44 BEAUTIES OP THE GREAT HOUSE. 

for a different purpose, now occupied by slaves, in a simi- 
lar manner to the long quarters. Besides these, there 
were numerous other slave houses and huts scattered 
around in the neighborhood, every nook and corner of 
which were completely occupied. 

Old master's house, a long brick building, plain but 
substantial, was centrally located, and was an independ- 
ent establishment. Besides these houses there were 
barns, stables, store-houses, tobacco-houses, blacksmith 
shops, wheelwright shops, cooper shops ; but above all 
there stood the grandest building my young eyes had 
ever beheld, called by every one on the plantation the 
great house. This was occupied by Col. Lloyd and his 
family. It was surrounded by numerous and variously- 
shaped out-buildings. There were kitchens, wash-houses, 
dairies, summer-houses, green-houses, hen-houses, turkey- 
houses, pigeon-houses, and arbors of many sizes and 
devices, all neatly painted or whitewashed, 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 broad portico extended the 
entire length of the building, supported by a long range 
of columns, which gave to the Colonel's home an air of 
great dignity and grandeur. It was a treat to my young 
and gradually opening mind to behold this elaborate 
exhibition of wealth, power, and beauty. 

The carriage entrance to the house was by a large gate, 
more than a quarter of a mile distant. The intermediate 
space was a beautiful lawn, very neatly kept and cared 
for. It was dotted thickly over with trees 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 lawn. Out- 



SLAVE SUPERSTITION. 45 

side this select enclosure were parks, as about the resi- 
dences of the English nobility, where 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 red- 
winged blackbirds, making all nature vocal with the joy 
ous life and beauty of their wild, warbling notes. These 
all belonged to me as well as to Col. Edward Lloyd, and, 
whether they did or not, I greatly enjoyed them. Not 
far from the great house were the stately mansions of the 
dead Lloyds a place of somber aspect. Vast tombs, em- 
bowered beneath the weeping willow and the fir tree, told 
of the generations of the family, as well as 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, and I was often compelled to 
hear stories of shrouded ghosts, riding on great black 
horses, and of balls of fire which had been seen to fly 
there at midnight, and of startling and dreadful sounds 
that had been repeatedly heard. Slaves knew enough of 
the Orthodox theology at the time to consign all bad 
slaveholders to hell, and they often fancied 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 great security to the grounds 
about them, for few of the slaves had the courage to ap- 
proach them during 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. 

Here was transacted the business of twenty or thirty 
different farms, which, with the slaves upon them, num- 
berinir, in all, not less than a thousand, all belonged to 
Col. Lloyd. Each farm was under the management of an 
overseer, whose word was law. 



46 SLAVE ETIQUETTE. 

Mr. Lloyd at this time was very rich. His slaves alone, 
numbering as I have said not less than a thousand, were 
an immense fortune, 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 selling of any to the State of 
Georgia was a sore and mournful event to those left be- 
hind, as well as to the victims themselves. 

The reader has already been informed of the handi- 
crafts carried on here by the slaves. " Uncle " Toney 
was the blacksmith, " Uncle " Harry the cartwright, and 
" Uncle " Abel was the shoemaker, and these had assist- 
ants in their several departments. These mechanics were 
called " Uncles " by all the younger slaves, not because 
they really sustained that relationship to any, but accord- 
ing to plantation etiquette, as a mark of respect, due from 
: the younger to the older slaves. Strange and even ridicu- 
lous 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 is maintained among 
them. I set this down as partly constitutional with the 
colored race and partly conventional. There is no better 
material in the world for making a gentleman than is fur- 
nished in the African. 

Among other slave notabilities, I found here one called 
by everybody, white and colored, " Uncle " Isaac Copper. 
It was seldom that a slave, however venerable, was hon- 
ored with a surname in Maryland, and so completely has 
the south shaped the manners of the north in this respect 
that their right to such honor is tardily admitted even 
now. It goes sadly against the grain to address and treat 
a negro as one would address and treat a white man. But 
once in a while, even in a slave state, a negro had a sur- 
name fastened to him by common consent. This was the 



REMEDIES FOR BODY AND SOUL. 47 

case with " Uncle " Isaac Copper. When the " Uncle " 
was dropped, he was called Doctor Copper. He was both 
our Doctor 'of Medicine and our Doctor of Divinity. 
"Where he took his degree I am unable to say, but he was 
too well established in his profession to permit question 
as to his native skill or attainments. One qualification 
he certainly had. He was a confirmed cripple, wholly 
unable to work, and was worth nothing for sale in the 
market. Though lame, he was no sluggard. He made 
his crutches do him good service, and was always on the 
alert looking up the sick, and such as were supposed to 
need his aid and 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 a few stout hickory switches. 

I was early sent to Doctor Isaac Copper, with twenty 
or thirty other children, to learn the Lord's prayer. The 
old man was seated on a huge three-legged oaken stool, 
armed with several large hickory switches, and from the 
point where he sat, lame as he was, he could reach every 
boy in the room. After standing a while to learn what 
was expected of us, he commanded us to kneel down. 
'This done, he told us to say everything he said. "Our 
Father" this we 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, and to use his 
switches on our backs. 

Everybody in the South seemed to want the privilege of 
whipping somebody else. Uncle Isaac, though a good old 
man, shared the common passion of his time and country. 
I cannot say I was much edified by attendance upon his 
ministry. There was even at that time something a little* 
inconsistent and laughable, in my mind, in the blending 
of prayer with punishment. 



48 

I was not long in my new home before I found that the 
dread I had conceived of Captain Anthony was in a meas- 
ure groundless. Instead of leaping out from some hiding- 
place and destroying me, he hardly seemed to notice my 
presence. He probably thought as little of my arrival 
there as of an additional pig to his stock. He was the 
chief agent of his employer. The overseers of all the 
farms composing the Lloyd estate were in some sort under 
him. The Colonel himself seldom addressed an overseer, 
or allowed himself to be addressed by one. To Captain 
Anthony, therefore, was committed the headship of all 
the farms. He carried the keys of all the store-houses, 
weighed and measured the allowances of each slave, at 
the end of each month ; superintended the storing of all 
goods brought to the store-house ; dealt out the raw ma- 
terial to the different handicraftsmen ; shipped the grain, 
tobacco, and all other saleable produce of the numerous 
farms to Baltimore, and had a general oversight of all the 
workshops of the place. In addition to all this he was 
frequently called abroad to Easton and elsewhere in 
the discharge of his numerous duties as chief agent of the 
estate. 

The family of Captain Anthony consisted of two sons 
Andrew and Richard, his daughter Lucretia and her 
newly-married husband, Captain Thomas Auld. In the 
kitchen were Aunt Katy, Aunt Esther, and ten or a dozen 
children, most of them older than myself. Captain An- 
thony was not considered a rich slave-holder, though he 
was pretty well off in the world. He owned about thirty 
slaves and three farms in the Tuckahoe district. The 
more valuable part of his property was in slaves, of 
whom he sold one every year, which brought him in 
seven or eight hundred dollars, besides his yearly salary 
and other revenue from his lands. 



THE LAW OP COMPENSATION. 49 

I have been often asked, during the earlier part of my 
free life at the North, how I happened to have so little of 
the slave accent in my speech. The mystery is in some 
measure explained by my association with Daniel Lloyd, 
the youngest son of Col. Edward Lloyd. The law of 
compensation holds here as well as elsewhere. While 
this lad could not associate with ignorance without shar- 
ing its shade, he could not give his black playmates his 
company without giving them his superior intelligence as 
well. Without knowing this, or caring about it at the 
time, I, for some cause or other, was attracted to him, 
and was much his companion. 

I had little to do with the older brothers of Daniel 
Edward and Murray. They were grown up and were fine- 
looking men. Edward was especially esteemed by the 
slave children, and by me among the rest not that he 
ever said anything to us or for us which could be called 
particularly kind. It was enough for us that he never 
looked or acted scornfully toward us. The idea of rank 
and station was rigidly maintained on this estate. The 
family of Captain Anthony never visited the great house, 
and the Lloyds never came to our house. Equal non- 
intercourse was observed between Captain Anthony's fam- 
ily and the family of Mr. Seveir, the overseer. 

Such, kind readers, was the community and such the 
place in which my earliest and most lasting impressions 
of the workings of slavery were received, of which 
impressions you will learn more in the after coming chap- 
ters of this book. 



CHAPTER V. 

A SLAVEHOLDER'S CHARACTER 

Increasing acquaintance with, old Master Evils of unresisted passion 
Apparent tenderness A man of trouble Custom of muttering to 
himself Brutal outrage A drunken overseer Slaveholder's impa- 
tience Wisdom of appeal A base and selfish attempt to break up 
a courtship. 

A LTHOUGH my old master, Captain Anthony, gave 
JLJL me, at the first of my coming to him from my 
grandmother's, 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 gov- 
erning 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. He could not only be deaf to the appeals 
of the helpless against the aggressor, but he could him- 
self 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 full 
restraints of civilized society restraints which are neces- 
sary to the freedom of all its members, alike and equally, 
Capt. Anthony might have been as humane a man as are 
members of such society generally. A man's character 
always takes its hue, more or less, from the form and 
color of things about him. The slaveholder, as well as 
the slave, was the victim of the slave system. Under 
the whole heavens there could be no relation more unfa- 
vorable to the development of honorable character than 

(50) 



A SLAVEHOLDER'S CHARACTER. 51 

that sustained by the slaveholder to the slave. Reason 
is imprisoned here, and passions run wild. Could the 
reader have seen Captain Anthony 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- 
hearted old man, and really almost fatherly to the slave 
boy. But the pleasant moods of a slaveholder are tran- 
sient and fitful. They neither come often nor remain 
long. The temper of the old man was subject to special 
trials ; but since these trials were never borne patiently, 
they added little to his natural stock of patience. Aside 
from his troubles with his slaves and those of Mr. Lloyd, 
he made the impression upon me of being 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 occa- 
sionally stormed about as if defying an army of invisible 
foes. Most of his leisure was spent in walking around, 
cursing and gesticulating as if possessed by a demon. 
He was evidently a wretched man, at war with his own 
soul and all the world around him. To be overheard by 
the children disturbed him very little. He made no more 
of our presence than that of the ducks and geese he met 
on the green. But when his gestures were most 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 safe distance from him. 

One of the first circumstances that opened my eyes to 
the cruelties and wickedness of slavery and its hardening 
influences upon my old master, was his refusal to inter- 
pose his authority to protect and shield a young woman, 
a cousin of mine, who had been most cruelly abused and 
beaten by his overseer in Tuckahoe. This overseer, a 
3 



52 CRUEL BEATING BY AN OVERSEER. 

Mr. Plummer, was, like most of his class, little less than 
a human brute ; and, in addition to his general profligacy 
and repulsive coarseness, he was a miserable drunkard, a 
man not fit to have the management of a drove of mules. 
In one of his moments of drunken madness he committed 
the outrage which brought the young woman in question 
down to my old master's for protection. The poor girl, 
on her arrival at our house, presented a most pitiable 
appearance. She had left in haste and without prepara- 
tion, and probably without the knowledge of Mr. Plum- 
mer. She had traveled twelve miles, barefooted, 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 wretch 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 brutal Plummer; but I 
was disappointed. He sternly told her in an angry tone, 
"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 the poor girl was 
compelled to return without redress, and perhaps to 
receive an additional flogging for daring to appeal to 
authority higher than that of the overseer. 

I did not at that time understand the philosophy of 
this treatment of my cousin. I think I now understand 
it. This treatment was a part of the system, rather than 
a part of the man. To have encouraged appeals of this 
kind would have occasioned much loss of time, and leave 
the overseer powerless to enforce obedience. Neverthe- 
less, when a slave had nerve enough to go straight to his 



MASTER AND OVERSEER. 53 

master with a well-founded complaint against an over- 
seer, though he might be repelled, and have even that of 
which he complained at the time repeated, and though he 
might be beaten by his master, as well as by the over- 
seer, for his temerity, in the end, the policy of complain- 
ing was generally vindicated by the relaxed rigor of the 
overseer's treatment. The latter became more careful 
and less disposed to use the lash upon such slaves there- 
after. 

The overseer very naturally disliked to have the ear of 
the master disturbed by complaints; and, either for this 
reason or because of advice privately given him by his 
employer, he generally modified the rigor of his rule after 
complaints of this kind had been made against him. 
For some cause or other, the slaves, no matter how often 
they were repulsed by their masters, were ever disposed 
to regard them with less abhorrence than the overseer. 
And yet these masters would often go beyond their over- 
seers in wanton cruelty. They wielded the lash without 
any sense of responsibility. They could cripple or kill 
without fear of consequences. I have seen my old mas- 
ter in a tempest of wrath, full of pride, hatred, jealousy, 
and revenge, where he seemed a very fiend. 

The circumstances which I am about to narrate, and 
which gave rise to this fearful tempest of passion, were 
not singular, but very common in our slave-holding com- 
munity. 

The reader will have noticed that among the names of 
slaves Esther is mentioned. This was a young woman 
who possessed that which was ever a curse to the slave 
girl namely, personal beauty. She was tall, light-col- 
ored, well formed, and made a fine appearance. Esther 
was courted by " Xed Roberts," the son of a favorite slave 
of Col. Lloyd, who was as fine-looking a young man as 
Esther was a woman. Some slave-holders would have 



54 INTERFERENCE OF THE MASTER. 

been glad to have promoted the marriage of two such per- 
sons, -but for some reason Captain Anthony disapproved 
of their courtship. He strictly ordered her to quit the 
company of young Roberts, telling her that he would pun- 
ish her severely if he ever found her again in his com- 
pany. But it was impossible to keep this couple apart. 
Meet they would, and meet they did. Had Mr. Anthony 
himself been a man of honor, his motives in this matter 
might have appeared more favorably. As it was, they 
appeared as abhorrent as they were contemptible. It was 
one of the damning characteristics of slavery that it rob- 
bed its victims of every earthly incentive to a holy life. 
The fear of God and the hope of heaven were sufficient to 
sustain many slave women amidst the snares and dangers 
of their strange lot ; but they were ever at the mercy of 
the power, passion, and caprice of their owners. Slavery 
provided no means for the honorable perpetuation of the 
race. Yet, despite of this destitution, there were many 
men and women among the slaves who were true and 
faithful to each other through life. 

But to the case in hand. Abhorred and circumvented 
as he was, Captain Anthony, having the power, was de- 
termined on revenge. I happened to see its shocking exe- 
cution, and shall never ferget the scene. It was early in 
the morning, when all was still, and before any of the 
family in the house or kitchen had risen. I was, in fact, 
awakened by the heart-rending shrieks and piteous cries 
of poor Esther. My sleeping-place was on the dirt floor 
of a little rough closet which opened into the kitchen, and 
through the cracks in its unplaned boards I could dis- 
tinctly see and hear what was going on, without being 
seen. Esther's wrists were firmly tied, and the twisted 
rope was fastened to a strong iron staple in a heavy 
wooden beam above, near the fire-place. Here she stood 
on a bench, her arms tightly drawn above her head. Her 



CRUEL TREATMENT OF A SLAVE GIRL. 55 

back and shoulders were perfectly bare. Behind her 
stood old master, cowhide in hand, pursuing his barbar- 
ous work with all manner of harsh, coarse, and tantaliz- 
ing epithets. He was cruelly deliberate, and protracted 
the torture as one who was delighted with the agony of 
his victim. Again and again he drew the hateful scourge 
through his hand, adjusting it with a view of dealing the 
most pain-giving blow his strength and skill could inflict. 
Poor Esther had never before been severely whipped. 
Her shoulders were plump and tender. Each blow, vig- 
orously laid on, brought screams from her as well as 
blood. "Have mercy! Oh, mercy!" she cried. "I 
won't do so no more." But her piercing cries seemed only 
to increase his fury. The whole scene, with all its attend- 
ants, was revolting and shocking to the last degree, and 
when the motives for the brutal castigation are known, 
language has no power to convey a just sense of its dread- 
ful criminality. After laying on I dare not say how 
many stripes, old master untied his suffering victim. 
When let down she could scarcely stand. From my heart 
I pitied her, and child as I was, and new to such scenes, 
the shock was tremendous. I was terrified, hushed, 
stunned, and bewildered. The scene here described was 
often repeated, for Edward and Esther continued to 
meet, notwithstanding all efforts to prevent their meet- 
ing. 



CHAPTER YL 

A CHILD'S REASONING. 

The author's early reflections on Slavery Aunt Jennie and Uncle 
Noah Presentment of one day becoming a freeman Conflict be- 
tween an overseer and a slave woman Advantage of resistance 
Death of an overseer Col. Lloyd's plantation home Monthly dis- 
tribution of food Singing of Slaves An explanation The slaves' 
food and clothing Naked children Life in the quarter Sleeping 
places not beds Deprivation of sleep Care of nursing babies 
Ash cake Contrast. 

r M HE incidents related in the foregoing chapter led me 
I thus early to inquire into the origin and nature of 
slavery. Why am I a slave ? Why are some people slaves 
and others masters ? These were perplexing questions 
and very troublesome to my childhood. I was told by 
some one very early that " G-od up in the sky " had made 
all things, and had made black people to be slaves and 
white people to be masters. I was told too that God was 
good, and that He knew what was best for everybody. 
This was, however, less satisfactory than the first state- 
ment. It came point blank against all my notions of 
goodness. The case of Aunt Esther was in my mind. 
Besides, I could not tell how anybody could- know that 
God made black people to be slaves. Then I found, too, 
that there were puzzling exceptions to this theory of sla- 
very, in the fact that all black people were not slaves, and 
all white people were not masters. 

An incident occurred about this time that made a deep 
impression on my mind. One of the men slaves of Cap- 
tain Anthony and my Aunt Jennie ran away. A great 
noise was made about it. Old master was furious. He 

(56) 



SLAVE IMPUDENCE. 57 

said he would follow them and catch them and bring them 
back, but he never did, and somebody told me that Uncle 
Noah and Aunt Jennie had gone to the free states and 
were free. Besides this occurrence, which brought much 
light to my mind on the subject, there were several slaves 
on Mr. Lloyd's place who remembered being brought from 
Africa. There were others that told me that their fathers 
and mothers were stolen from Africa. 

This to me was important knowledge, but not such as / 
to make me feel very easy in my slave condition. The 
success of Aunt Jennie and Uncle Noah in getting away 
from slavery was, I think, the first fact that made me 
seriously think of escape for myself. I could not have 
been more than seven or eight years old at the time of 
this occurrence, but young as I was I was already a fugi- 
tive from slavery in spirit and purpose. 

Up to the time of the brutal treatment of my Aunt 
Esther, already narrated, and the shocking plight in which 
I had seen my cousin from Tuckahoe, my attention had 
not been especially directed to the grosser and more re- 
volting features of slavery. I had, of course, heard of 
whippings and savage mutilations of slaves by brutal over- 
seers, but happily for me I had always been out of the way 
of such occurrences. My play time was spent outside of 
the corn and tobacco fields, where the overseers and slaves 
were brought together and in conflict. But after the case 
of my Aunt Esther I saw others of the same disgusting 
and shocking nature. The one of these which agitated 
and distressed me most was the whipping of a woman, 
not belonging to my old master, but to Col. Lloyd. The 
charge against her was very common and very indefinite, 
namely, " impudence" This crime could be committed 
by a slave in a hundred different ways, and depended 
much upon the temper and caprice of the overseer as to 
whether it was committed at all. He could create the 



58 CHILDREN SEEING THEIR MOTHER WHIPPED. 

offense whenever it pleased him. A look, a word, a ges- 
ture, accidental or intentional, never failed to be taken as 
impudence when he was in the right mood for such an 
offense. In this case there were all the necessary condi- 
tions for the commission of the crime charged. The 
offender was nearly white, to begin with ; she was the 
wife of a favorite hand on board of Mr. Lloyd's sloop, and 
was besides the mother of five sprightly children. Vig- 
orous and spirited woman that she was, a wife and a 
mother, with a predominating share of the blood of the 
master running in her veins, Nellie (for that was her 
name) had all the qualities essential to impudence to a 
slave overseer. My attention was called to the scene of 
the castigation by tlie loud screams and curses that pro- 
ceeded from the direction of it. When I came near the 
parties engaged in the struggle the overseer had hold of 
Nellie, endeavoring with his whole strength to drag her 
to a tree against her resistance. Both his and her faces 
were bleeding, for the woman was doing her best. Three 
of her children were present, and though quite small, 
(from seven to ten years old, I should think) , they gal- 
lantly took the side of their mother against the overseer, 
and pelted him well with stones and epithets. Amid the 
screams of the children, " Let my mammy go ! Let my 
mammy go!" the hoarse voice of the maddened overseer 
was heard in terrible oaths that he would teach her how 
to give a white man u impudence" The t>lood on his face 
and on hers attested her skill in the use of her nails, and 
his dogged determination to conquer. His purpose was 
to tie her up to a tree and give her, in slave-holding par- 
lance, a " genteel flogging," and he evidently had not ex- 
pected the stern and protracted resistance he was meet- 
ing, or the strength and skill needed to its execution. 
There were times when she seemed likely to get the bet- 
ter of the brute, but he finally overpowered her and sue- 



UNLAMEXTED DEATH OF AN OVERSEER. 59 

cceded in getting her arms firmly tied to the tree towards 
which he had been dragging her. The victim was now at 
the merc^ of his merciless lash. What followed I need 
not here describe. The cries of the now helpless woman, 
while undergoing the terrible infliction, were mingled 
with the hoarse curses of the overseer and the wild cries 
of her distracted children. When the poor woman was 
untied her back was covered with blood. She was whip- 
ped, terribly whipped, but she was not subdued, and con- 
tinued to denounce the overseer, and pour upon him 
every vile epithet she could think of. Such floggings are 
seldom repeated by overseers on the same persons. They 
prefer to whip those who were the most easily whipped. 
The doctrine that submission 'to violence is the best cure 
for violence did not hold good as between slaves and over- 
seers. He was whipped oftener who was whipped easiest. 
That slave who had the courage to stand up for himself 
against the overseer,although he might have many hard 
stripes at first, became while legally a slave virtually a 
freeman. " You can shoot me," said a slave to Rigby 
Hopkins, " but you can't whip me," and the result was he 
was neither whipped nor shot. I do not know that Mr. 
Sevier ever attempted to whip Nellie again. He probably 
never did, for not long after he was taken sick and died. 
It was commonly said that his death-bed was a wretched 
one, and that, the ruling passion being strong in death, 
he died flourishing the slave whip and with horrid oaths 
upon his lips. This death-bed scene may only be the im- 
agining of the slaves. One thing is certain, that when he 
was in health his profanity was enough to chill the blood 
of an ordinary man. Nature, or habit, had given to his 
face an expression of uncommon savageness. Tobacco 
and rage had ground his teeth short, and nearly every 
sentence that he uttered was commenced or completed 
with an oath. Hated for his cruelty, despised for his 



60 PRIVILEGES SOUGHT FOE. 

cowardice, he went to his grave lamented by nobody on 
the place outside of his own house, if, indeed, he was even 
lamented there. <t 

In Mr. James Hopkins, the succeeding overseer, we had 
a different and a better man, as good perhaps as any man 
could be in the position of a slave overseer. Though he 
sometimes wielded the lash, it was evident that he took 
no pleasure in it and did it with much reluctance. He 
stayed but a short time here, and his removal from the 
position was much regretted by the slaves generally. Of 
the successor of Mr. Hopkins I shall have something to 
say at another time and in another place. 

For the present we will attend to a further description 
of the business-like aspect of Col. Lloyd's " Great House" 
farm. There was always much bustle and noise here on 
the two days at the end of each month, for then the slaves 
belonging to the different branches of this great estate 
assembled here by their represenfatives to obtain their 
monthly allowances of corn-meal and pork. These were 
gala days for the slaves of the outlying farms, and there 
was much rivalry among them as to who should be elected 
to go up to the Great House farm for the " Allowances" 
and indeed to attend to any other business at this great 
place, to them the capitol of a little nation. Its beauty 
and grandeur, its immense wealth,- its numerous popu- 
lation, and the fact that uncles Harry, Peter, and Jake, 
the sailors on board the sloop, usually kept on sale trink- 
ets which they bought in Baltimore to sell to their less 
fortunate fellow-servants, made a visit to the Great House 
farm a high privilege, and eagerly sought. It was valued, 
too, as a mark of distinction and confidence ; but proba- 
bly the chief motive among the competitors for the office 
was the opportunity it afforded to shake off the 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 



APPARENT CHEERFULNESS OF SLAVES. 61 

tongue of the cart, with no overseer to look after him, he 
felt comparatively free. 

Slaves were expected to sing as well as to work. A 
silent slave was not liked, either by masters or overseers. 
"Make a noise there ! Make a noise there ! " and " bear a 
hand," were words usually addressed to slaves when they 
were silent. This, and the natural disposition of the ne- 
gro to make a noise in the world, may account for the 
almost constant singing among them when at their work. 
There was generally more or less singing among the 
teamsters at all times. It was a means of telling the 
overseer, in the distance, where they were and what they 
were about. But on the allowance days those commis- 
sioned to the Great House farm were peculiarly vocal. 
While on the way they would make the grand old woods 
for miles around reverberate with their wild and plain- 
tive notes. They were indeed both merry and sad. 
Child as I was, these wild songs greatly depressed my 
spirits. Nowhere outside of dear old Ireland, in the 
days of want and famine, have I heard sounds so mourn- 
ful. 

In all these slave songs there was ever some expression 
of praise of the Great House farm something that would 
please the pride of the Lloyds. 

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! 

These words would be sung over and over again, with 
others, improvised as they went along jargon, perhaps, 
to the reader, but full of meaning to the singers. I have 
sometimes thought that the mere hearing of these songs 
would have done more to impress the good people of the 
north with the soul-crushing character of slavery than 
whole volumes exposing the physical cruelties of the 



62 GRIEF NOT ALWAYS EXPRESSED. 

slave system ; for the heart has no language like song. 
Many years ago, when recollecting my experience in this 
respect, I wrote of these slave songs in the following 
strain : 

" I did not, when a slave, fully understand the deep 
meaning of those rude and apparently incoherent songs. 
I was, myself, within the circle, so that I could then nei- 
ther hear nor see as those without might see and hear. 
They breathed the prayer aud complaint of souls over- 
flowing with the bitterest anguish. They depressed my 
spirits and filled my heart with ineffable sadness." 

The remark in the olden time was not unfrequently 
made, that slaves were the most contented and happy 
laborers in the world, and their dancing and singing were 
referred to in proof of this alleged fact ; but it was a 
great mistake to suppose them happy because they some- 
times made those joyful noises. The songs of the slaves 
represented their sorrows, rather than their'^j^s. Like 
tears, they were a relief to aching hearts. It is^not in- 
consistent with the constitution of the human mind that 
avails itself of one and the same method for expressing 
opposite emotions. Sorrow and desolation have their 
songs, as well as joy and peace. 

It was the boast of slaveholders that -their slaves 
enjoyed 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 its equivalent in fish. 
The pork was often tainted, and the fish were of the poor- 
est quality. With their pork or fish, they had given them 
one bushel of Indian meal, unbolted, of which quite fifteen 
per cent, was more fit for pigs than for men. V^r^ ^his 
one pint of salt was given, and this was the entire 
monthly allowance of a full-grown slave, working con- 



SLAVE CLOTHING AND HABITS. 63 

stantly in the open field from morning till night every day 
in the month except Sunday. There is no kind of work 
which really requires a better supply of food to prevent 
physical exhaustion than the field work of a slave. The 
yearly allowance of clothing was not more ample than the 
supply of food. It consisted of two tow-linen shirts, one 
pair of trowsers of the same coarse material, for summer, 
and a woolen pair of trowsers and a woolen jacket for win- 
ter, with one pair of yarn stockings and a pair of shoes of 
the coarsest description. Children under ten years old 1 
had neither shoes, stockings, jackets, nor trowsers. They 
had two coarse tow-linen shirts per year, and when these 
were worn out they went naked till the next allowance 
day and this was the condition of the little girls as well 
as the boys. As to beds, they had none. One coarse 
blanket was given them, and this only to the men and 
women. The children stuck themselves in holes and cor- 
ners about the quarters, often in the corners of huge chim- 
neys, with their feet in the ashes to keep them warm. 
The want of beds, however, was not considered a great 
privation by the field hands. Time to sleep was of far 
greater importance. For when the day's work was done 
most of these had their washing, mending, and cooking to 
do, and having few or no facilities for doing such things, 
very many of their needed sleeping hours were consumed 
in necessary preparations for the labors of the coming 
day. The sleeping apartments, if they could have been 
properly called such, had little regard to comfort or de- 
cency. Old and young, male and female, married and 
single, dropped down upon the common clay floor, each 
covering up with his or her blanket, their only protection 
from cold or exposure. The night, however, was short- 
ened at both ends. The slaves worked often as long as 
they could see, and were late in cooking and mending for 
the coming day, and at the first gray streak of the morn- 



64 ASH CAKE. 

ing they were summoned to the field by the overseer's 
horn. They were whipped for oversleeping more than 
for any other fault. Neither age nor sex found any favor. 
The overseer stood at the quarter door, armed with stick 
and whip, ready to deal heavy blows upon any who might 
be a little behind time. When the horn was blown there 
was a rush for the door, for the hindermost one was 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. This 
was when they were not required to take them to the field 
with them, and leave them upon " turning row," or in the 
corner of the fences. 

As a general rule the slaves did not come to their quar- 
ters to take their meals, but took their ash-cake (called 
thus because baked in the ashes) and piece of pork, or 
their salt herrings, where they were at work. 

But let us now leave the rough usage of the field, where 
vulgar coarseness and brutal cruelty flourished as rank as 
weeds in the tropics, where a vile wretch, in the shape of 
a man, rides, walks, and struts about, with whip in hand, 
dealing heavy blows and leaving deep gashes on the flesh 
of men and women, and turn our attention to the less 
repulsive slave life as it existed in the home of my child- 
hood. Some idea of the splendor of that place sixty years 
ago has already been given. The contrast between the 
condition of the slaves and that of their masters was mar- 
velously sharp and striking. There were pride, pomp, 
and luxury on the one hand, servility, dejection, and 
misery on the other. 



CHAPTER VII. 

LUXURIES AT THE GREAT HOUSE. 

Contrasts Great House luxuries Its hospitality Entertainments 
Fault-finding Shameful humiliation of an old and faithful coach- 
man William Wilks Curious incident Expressed satisfaction 
not always genuine Reasons for suppressing the truth. 

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 on 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 infant in the fence-corner, 
wholly vanished on approaching the sacred precincts of 
the " Great House " itself. There the scriptural phrase 
descriptive of the wealthy found exact illustration. The 
highly-favored inmates of this mansion were literally 
arrayed in "purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously 
every day." The table of this house groaned under the 
blood-bought luxuries gathered with pains-taking care at 
home and abroad. Fields, forests, rivers, and seas were 
made tributary. Immense wealth and its lavish expen- 
ditures filled the Great House with all that could please 
the eye or tempt the taste. Fish, flesh, and fowl were 
here in profusion. Chickens of all breeds ; ducks of all 
kinds, wild and tame, the common and the huge Musco- 
vite ; Guinea fowls, turkeys, geese, and pea-fowls were 
fat, and fattening for the destined vortex. Here the 
graceful swan, the mongrel, the black-necked wild goose, 
partridges, quails, pheasants, and pigeons, choice water- 
fowl, with all their strange varieties, were caught in this 



66 CHOICE VIANDS AT THE LLOYDS. 

huge net. Beef, Teal, mutton, and venison, of the most 
select kinds and quality, rolled in bounteous profusion to 
this grand consumer. The teeming riches of the Chesa- 
peake Bay, its rock perch, drums, crocus, trout, oysters, 
crabs, and terrapin were drawn hither to adorn the glitter- 
ing table. The dairy, too, the finest then on the eastern 
shore of Maryland, supplied by cattle of the best English 
stock, imported for the express purpose, poured its rich 
donations of fragrant cheese, golden butter, and delicious 
cream to heighten the attractions of the gorgeous, unend- 
ing round of feasting. Nor were the fruits of the earth 
overlooked. The fertile garden, many acres in size, con- 
stituting a separate establishment distinct from the com- 
mon farm, with its scientific gardener direct from Scot- 
land, a Mr. McDermott, and four men under his direction, 
was not behind, either in the abundance or in the delicacy 
of its contributions. The tender asparagus, the crispy 
celery, and the delicate cauliflower, egg plants, beets> 
lettuce, parsnips, peas, and French beans, early and late, 
radishes, cantelopes, melons of all kinds ; and the fruits 
of all climes and of every description, from the hardy 
apples of the north to the lemon and orange of the south, 
culminated at this point. Here were gathered figs, 
raisins, almonds, and grapes from Spain, wines and bran- 
dies from France, teas of various flavor from China, and 
rich, aromatic coffee from Java, all conspiring to swell 
the tide of high life, where pride and indolence lounged 
in magnificence and satiety. 

Behind the tall-backed and elaborately wrought chairs 
stood the servants, fifteen in number, carefully selected, 
not only with a view to their capacity and adeptness, but 
with especial regard to their personal appearance, their 
graceful agility, and pleasing address. Some of these 
servants, armed with fans, wafted reviving breezes to the 
over-heated brows of the alabaster ladies, whilst others 



CARRIAGES, HORSES, AND HOUNDS. 67 

watched with eager eye and fawn-like step, anticipating 
and supplying wants before they were sufficiently formed to 
be announced by word or sign. 

These servants constituted a sorl of black aristocracy. 
They resembled the field hands in nothing except their 
color, and in this they held the advantage of a velvet-like 
glossiness, rich and beautiful. The hair, too, showed the 
same advantage. The delicately-formed colored maid 
rustled in the scarcely-worn silk of her young mistress, 
while the servant men were equally well attired from the 
overflowing 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 multi- 
tudes of the quarter and the field was immense. 

In the stables and carriage-houses were to be found the 
same evidences of pride and luxurious extravagance. 
Here were three splendid coaches, soft within and lus- 
trous without. Here, too, were gigs, phaetons, barouches, 
sulkeys, and sleighs. Here were saddles and harnesses, 
beautifully wrought and richly mounted. Not less than 
thirty-five horses of the best approved blood, both for 
speed and beauty, were kept only for pleasure. The care 
of these horses constituted the entire occupation of two 
men, one or the other of them being always in the stable 
to answer any call which might be made from the Great 
House. Over the way from the stable was a house built 
expressly for the hounds, a pack of twenty-five or thirty, 
the fare for which would have made glad the hearts of a 
dozen slaves. Horses and hounds, however, were not the 
only consumers of the slave's toil. The hospitality prac- 
ticed at the Lloyd's would have astonished and charmed 
many a health-seeking divine or merchant from the north. 
Viewed from his table, and not from the field, Colonel 
Lloyd was, indeed, a model of generous hospitality. His 



68 OLD BARNEY THE HOSTLER. 

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 broil- 
ing. It was something to me that I could share these 
odors with the winds, even if the meats themselves were 
under a more stringent monopoly. In master Daniel I had 
a friend at court, who would sometimes give me a cake, 
and who kept me well informed as to their guests and 
their entertainments. Viewed from Col. Lloyd's table, 
who could have said that his slaves were not well clad and 
well cared for ? Who would have said they did not glory 
in being the slaves of such a master ? Who but a fanatic 
could have seen any cause for sympathy for either master 
or slave ? Alas, this immense wealth, this gilded splen- 
dor, this profusion of luxury, this exemption from toil, 
this life of ease, this sea of plenty were not the pearly 
gates they seemed to a world of happiness and sweet con- 
tent. The poor slave, on his hard pine plank, scantily 
covered with his thin blanket, slept more soundly than the 
feverish voluptuary who reclined upon his downy pillow. 
Food to the indolent is poison, not sustenance. Lurking 
beneath the rich and tempting viands were invisible spirits 
of evil, which filled the self-deluded gormandizer with 
aches and pains, passions uncontrollable, fierce tempers, 
dyspepsia, rheumatism, lumbago, and gout, and of these 
the Lloyds had a full share. 

I had many opportunities of witnessing the restless dis- 
content and capricious irritation of the Lloyds. My fond- 
ness for horses attracted me to the stables much of the 
time. The two men in charge of this establishment were 
old and young Barney father and son. Old Barney was 
a fine-looking, portly old man of a brownish complexion, 
and a respectful and dignified bearing. He was much 
devoted to his profession, and held his office as an honor- 
able one. He was a farrier as well as an ostler, and 



HIS HUMILIATING TREATMENT FROM COL. LLOYD. 69 

could bleed, remove lampers from their mouths, and ad- 
minister medicine to horses. No one on the farm knew 
so well as old Barney what to do with a sick horse ; but 
his office was not an enviable one, and his gifts and 
acquirements were of little advantage to him. In nothing 
was Col. Lloyd more unreasonable and exacting than in 
respect to the management of his horses. Any supposed 
inattention to these animals was sure to be visited with 
degrading punishment. His horses and dogs fared better 
than his men. Their beds were far 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 painful to hear the unreasonable 
and fretful scoldings administered by Col. Lloyd, his son 
Murray, and his sons-in-law, to this poor man. Three of 
the daughters of Col. Lloyd were married, and they with 
their husbands remained at the great house a portion of 
the year, and enjoyed the luxury of whipping the servants 
when they pleased. 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 foretop was not combed ;" " his mane did not lie 
straight ;" " his head did not look well ;" " his fetlocks 
had not been properly trimmed." Something was always 
wrong. However groundless the complaint, Barney must 
stand, hat in hand, lips sealed, never answering a word in 
explanation or excuse. In a free State, a master thus 
complaining without cause, might be told by his ostler : 
" Sir, I am sorry I cannot please you, but since I have 
done the best I can and fail to do so, your remedy is to 
dismiss me." But here the ostler must listen and trem- 
blingly abide his master's behest. One of the most heart- 
saddening and humiliating scenes I ever witnessed was 
the whipping of old Barney by Col. Lloyd. These two 
men were both advanced in years ; there were the silver 



70 UNNATURAL RELATIONS AND JEALOUSIES. 

locks of the master, and the bald and toil-worn brow o* 
the slave superior and inferior here, powerful and v,eak 
here, but equals before God. " 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 sunshine, 
and his "aged knees on the cold, damp ground. In this 
humble and debasing attitude, that master, to whom he 
had devoted the best years and the best strength of his 
life, came forward and laid on thirty lashes with his horse- 
whip. The old man made no resistance, but bore it 
patiently, answering each blow with only a shrug of the 
shoulders and a groan. I do not think that the physical 
suffering from this infliction was severe, for the whip was 
a light riding-whip ; but the spectacle of an aged man a 
husband and a father humbly kneeling before his fellow- 
man, shocked me at the time ; and since I have grown 
older, few of the features of slavery have impressed me 
with a deeper sense of its injustice and barbarity than this 
exciting scene. I owe it to the truth, however, to say that 
this was the first and last time I ever saw a slave com- 
pelled to kneel to receive a whipping. 

Another incident, illustrating a phase of slavery to 
which I have referred in another connection, I may here 
mention. Besides two other coachmen, Col. Lloyd owned 
one named William Wilks, and his was one of the excep- 
tionable cases where a slave possessed a surname, and 
was recognized by it, by both colored and white people. 
Wilks was a very fine-looking man. He was about as 
white as any one on the plantation, and in form and fea- 
ture bore a very striking resemblance to Murray Lloyd. 
It was whispered and generally believed 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 from his 




WHIPPING OF OLD 



A FAVORITE SOLD TO THE SLAVE TRADER. 73 

personal appearance, but from the undeniable freedom 
which he enjoyed over all others, and his apparent con- 
sciousness 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 impor- 
tunities 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, 
he tried to make things smooth by giving William a whip- 
ping, but it proved a failure. It was a compromise, and 
like most such, defeated itself, for soon after Col. Lloyd 
atoned to William for the abuse by giving him a gold 
watch and chain. Another fact somewhat curious was, 
that though sold to the remorseless Woldfolk, taken in 
irons to Baltimore, and cast into prison, with a view to 
being sent to the South, William outbid all his purchasers, 
paid for himself, and afterwards resided in Baltimore. 
How this was accomplished was a great mystery at the 
time, explained only on the supposition that the hand 
which had bestowed the gold watch and chain had also 
supplied the purchase-money, but I have since learned 
that this was not the true explanation. Wilks had many 
friends in Baltimore and Annapolis, and they united to 
save him from a fate which was one of all others most 
dreaded by the slaves. Practical amalgamation was how- 
ever so common at the South, and so many circumstances 
pointed in that direction, that there was little reason to 
doubt that William Wilks was the son of Edward Lloyd. 
The real feelings and opinions of the slaves were not 
much known or respected by their masters. The distance 
between the two was too great to admit of such knowl- 
edge ; and in this respect Col. Lloyd was no exception 
to the rule. His slaves were so numerous he did not 
know them when he saw them. Nor, indeed, did all his 
slaves know him. It is reported of him, that riding 



74 A STILL TONGUE MAKES A WISE HEAD. 

along the road one day, he met a colored man, and 
addressed him in what was 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 hard ?" " Yes, sir." " Well, don't he give 
you enough to eat ? " " Yes, sir, he gives me enough to 
eat, such as it is." The Colonel rode on; the slave also 
went on about his business, not dreaming that he had 
been conversing with his master. He thought and said 
nothing of the matter, until two or three weeks after- 
wards, he was 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 hand- 
cuffed ; and thus, without a moment's warning, he was 
snatched away, and forever sundered from his family and 
friends by a hand as unrelenting as that of death. This 
was the penalty of telling the simple truth, in answer to 
a series of plain questions. It was partly in consequence 
of such facts, that slaves, when inquired of as to their 
condition and the character of their masters, would 
almost invariably say that they were contented and their 
masters kind. Slaveholders are known to have sent spies 
among their slaves to ascertain, if possible, their views 
and feelings in regard to their condition ; hence the 
maxim established among them, that " a still tongue 
makes a wise head." They would suppress the truth 
rather than take the consequences of telling it, and in so 
doing they prove themselves a part of the human family. 
I was frequently asked if I had a kind master, and 1 do 
not remember ever to have given a negative reply. I did 
not consider myself as uttering that which was strictly 
untrue, for I always measured the kindness of my master 
by the standard of kindness set up by the slaveholders 
around us. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

CHARACTERISTICS OF OVERSEERS. 

Austin Gore Sketch of his character Overseers as a class Their 
peculiar characteristics The marked individuality of Austin Gore 
His sense of duty Murder of poor Denby Sensation How 
Gore made his peace with Col. Lloyd Other horrible murders No 
laws for the protection of slaves possible of being enforced. 

THE comparatively moderate rule of Mr. Hopkins as 
overseer on Col. Lloyd's plantation was succeeded 
by that of another, whose name was Austin Gore. I 
hardly know how to bring this man fitly before the 
reader ; for under him there was more suffering from vio- 
lence and bloodshed than had, according to the older 
slaves, ever been experienced before at this place. He 
was an overseer, and possessed the peculiar characteris- 
tics of his class; yet to call him merely an overseer 
would not give one a fair conception of the man. I 
speak of overseers as a class, for they were such. They 
were as distinct from the slaveholding gentry of the 
South as are the fish-women of Paris and the coal-heavers 
of London distinct from other grades of society. They 
constituted a separate fraternity at the South. They 
were arranged and classified by that great law of attrac- 
tion which determines the sphere and affinities of men; 
which ordains that men whose malign and brutal propen- 
sities preponderate over their moral and intellectual 
endowments shall naturally fall into those employments 
which promise the largest gratification to those predom- 
inating instincts or propensities. The office of overseer 
took this raw material of vulgarity and brutality, and 

(75) 



76 OVERSEERS AS A CLASS. 

stamped it as a distinct class in southern life. But in 
this class, as in all other classes, there were sometimes 
persons of marked individuality, yet with 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 mean ambition of his class, 
without its disgusting swagger and noisy bravado. There 
was an easy air of independence about him, a calm self- 
possession, at the same time a sternness of glance which 
well might daunt less timid hearts than those of poor 
slaves, accustomed from childhood to cower before a 
driver's lash. He was one of those overseers who could 
torture the slightest word or look into impudence, and he 
had the nerve not only to resent, but to punish promptly 
and severely. There could be no answering back. Guilty 
or not guilty, to be accused was to be sure of a flogging. 
His very presence was fearful, and I shunned him as I 
would have shunned a rattlesnake. His piercing black 
eyes and sharp, shrill voice ever awakened sensations of 
dread. Other overseers, how brutal soever they might 
be, would sometimes seek to gain favor with the slaves 
by indulging in a little pleasantry ; but Gore never said a 
funny thing or perpetrated a joke. He was always cold, 
distant, and unapproachable the overseer on Col. Edward 
Lloyd's plantation and needed no higher pleasure than 
the performance of the duties of his office. When he 
used the lash, it was from a sense of duty, without fear 
of consequences. There was a stern will, an iron-like 
reality about him, which would easily have made him 
chief of a band of pirates, had his environments been 
favorable to such a sphere. Among many other deeds of 
shocking cruelty committed by him was the murder of a 






BILL DENBY'S MURDER. 77 

young colored man named Bill Denby. He was a power- 
ful fellow, full of animal spirits, and one of the most val- 
uable of Col. Lloyd's slaves. In some way, I know not 
what, he offended this Mr. Austin Gore, and, in accord- 
ance with the usual custom, the latter undertook to flog 
him. He had given him but a few stripes when Denby 
broke away from him, plunged into the creek, and, stand- 
ing there with the water up to his neck, refused to come 
out; whereupon, for this refusal, Gore shot him dead! 
It was said that Gore gave Denby three calls to come 
out, telling him if he did not obey the last call he should 
shoot him. When the last call was given Denby still 
stood his ground, and Gore, without further parley, or 
without making any further effort to induce obedience, 
raised his gun deliberately to his face, took deadly aim at 
his standing victim, and with one click of the gun the 
mangled body sank out of sight, and only his warm red 
blood marked the place where he had stood. 

This fiendish murder produced, as it could not help 
doing, a tremendous sensation. The slaves were panic- 
stricken, and howled with alarm. The atrocity roused 
my old master, and he spoke out in reprobation of it. 
Both he and Col. Lloyd arraigned Gore for his cruelty ; 
but he, calm and collected, as though nothing unusual 
had happened, declared that Denby had become unman- 
ageable ; that he set a dangerous example to the other 
slaves, and that unless some such prompt measure was 
resorted to there would be an end of all rule and order on 
the plantation. That convenient covert for all manner of 
villainy and outrage, that cowardly alarm-cry, that the 
slaves would " take the place," was pleaded, just as it had 
been in thousands of similar cases. Gore's defense was 
evidently considered satisfactory, for he was continued in 
his office, without being subjected to a judicial investiga- 
tion. The murder was committed in the presence of 
4 



78 OTHER MURDERS. 

slaves only, and they, being slaves, could neither institute 
a suit nor testify against the murderer. Mr. Gore lived 
in St. Michaels, Talbot Co., Maryland, and I have no rea- 
son to doubt, from what I know to have been the moral 
sentiment of the place, that he was as highly esteemed 
and as much respected as though his guilty soul had not 
been stained with innocent blood. 

I speak advisedly when I say that killing a slave, or 
any colored person, in Talbot Co., Maryland, was not 
treated as a crime, either by the courts or the community. 
Mr. Thomas Lanman, ship carpenter of St. Michaels, killed 
two slaves, one of whom he butchered with a hatchet, by 
knocking his brains out. He used to boast of having 
committed the awful and bloody deed. 1 have heard .him 
do so laughingly, declaring himself a benefactor of his 
country, and that " when others would do as much as he 
had done, they would be rid of the d^^w^ d niggers." 

Another notorious fact which I may state was the mur- 
der of a young girl between fifteen and sixteen years of 
age, by her mistress, Mrs. Giles Hicks, who lived but a 
short distance from Col. Lloyd's. This wicked woman, 
in the paroxysm of her wrath, not content at killing her 
victim, literally mangled her face and broke her breast- 
bone. "Wild and infuriated as she was, she took the pre- 
caution to cause the burial of the girl ; but, the facts of 
the case getting abroad, the remains were disinterred and 
a coroner's jury assembled, who, after due deliberation, 
decided that " the girl had come to her death from severe 
beating." The offense for which this girl was thus hur- 
ried out of the world was this : she had been set that 
night, and several preceding nights, to mind Mrs. Hicks' 
baby, and having fallen into a sound sleep the crying of 
the baby did not wake her, as it did its mother. The tar- 
diness of the girl excited Mrs. Hicks, who, after calling 
her several times, seized a piece of fire-wood from the fire- 




GORE SHOOTING DENBY. 



WORTH HALF A CENT TO KILL A NIGGER. 81 

place and pounded in her skull and breast-bone till death 
ensued. I will not say that this murder most foul pro- 
duced no sensation. It did produce a sensation. A war- 
rant was issued for the arrest of Mrs. Hicks, but incredi- 
ble to tell, for some reason or other, that warrant was 
never served, and she not only escaped condign punish- 
ment, but the pain and mortification as well of being 
arraigned before a court of justice. 

While 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 time of the murder of Denby. 

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 
Lloyd's slaves 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. Mr. Bondley took it into his head to re- 
gard this as a trespass, and while an old man slave was 
engaged in catching a few of the many millions of oys- 
ters that lined the bottom of the creek, to satisfy his hun- 
ger, the rascally Bondley, lying in ambush, without the 
slightest warning, discharged the contents of his musket 
into the back of the poor old man. As good fortune 
would have it, the shot did not prove fatal, and Mr. 
Bondley came over the next day to see Col. Lloyd about 
it. What happened between them I know not, but there 
was little said about it and nothing publicly done. One 
of the commonest sayings to which my ears early became 
accustomed, was that it was u worth but a half a cent to 
kill a nigger, and half a cent to bury one." While I 
heard of numerous murders committed by slaveholders on 
the eastern shore of Maryland, I never knew a solitary 



82 NO REDRESS. 

instance where a slaveholder was either hung or imprisoned 
for having murdered a slave. The usual pretext for such 
crimes was that the slave had offered resistance. Should 
a slave, when assaulted, but raise his hand in self-defense, 
the white assaulting party was fully justified by southern 
law and southern public opinion in shooting the slave 
down, and for this there was no redress. 



CHAPTER IX. 

CHANGE OF LOCATION. 

Miss Lucretia Her kindness How it was manifested "Ike" A 
battle with him Miss Lucretia's balsam Bread How it was ob- 
tained Gleams of sunlight amidst the general darkness Suffering 
from cold How we took our meal mush Preparations for going 
to Baltimore Delight at the change Cousin Tom's opinion of Bal- 
timore Arrival there Kind reception Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Auld 
Their son Tommy My relations to them My duties A turning 
point in my life. 

I HA YE 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 have to say 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 had reasons for thinking this lady was very 
kindly disposed towards 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 and indifferent, the slightest word or look 
of kindness was of great value. Miss Lucretia as we 
all continued to call her long after her marriage had be- 
stowed on me such looks and words as taught me that 
she pitied me, if she did not love me. She sometimes 

(83) 



84 AUNT KATY. 

gave me a piece of bread and butter, an article not set 
down in our bill of fare, but an extra ration aside from 
both Aunt Katy and old master, and given as I believed 
solely out of the tender regard she had for me. Then, 
too, I one day got into the wars with Uncle Abel's son 
" Ike," and had got sadly worsted ; the little rascal 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 even 
now. The gash bled very freely, and I roared and betook 
myself home. The cold-hearted Aunt Katy paid no at- 
tention either to my wound or my roaring except to tell 
me it " served me right ; I had no business with Ike ; it 
would do me good ; I would now keep away from ' dem 
Lloyd niggers.' >! Miss Lucretia in this state of the case 
came forward, and called me into the parlor (an extra 
privilege of itself), and without using toward me any of 
the hard and reproachful epithets of Aunt Katy, quietly 
acted the good Samaritan. With her own soft hand she 
washed the blood from my head and face, brought her 
own bottle of balsam, 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, induced 
by the unfeeling words of Aunt Katy. 

After this Miss Lucretia was yet more 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 
heart an interest in my welfare. It is quite true that this 
interest seldom showed itself in anything more than in 
giving me a piece of bread and butter, 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 severely pinched with hunger, I had the habit of 
singing, which the good lady very soon came to under- 



HOW HE LIVED. 85 

stand, and when she heard me singing under her window 
I was very apt to be paid for my music. 

Thus I had two friends, both at important points 
Mas'r Daniel at the great house, and Miss Lucretia at 
home. From Mas'r Daniel I got protection from the big- 
ger boys, and from Miss Lucretia I got bread by singing 
when I was hungry, and sympathy when I was abused by 
the termagant in the kitchen. For such friendship I was 
deeply grateful, and bitter as are my recollections of 
slavery, it is a true pleasure 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 there is vividly distinct. 

As before intimated, I received no severe treatment 
from the hands of my master, but the insufficiency of 
both food and clothing was a serious trial to me, espec- 
ially from the lack of clothing. In hottest summer and 
coldest winter I was kept almost in a state of nudity. 
My only clothing a little coarse sack-cloth or tow-linen 
sort of shirt, scarcely reaching to my knees, was worn 
night and day and changed once a week. In the day 
time I could protect myself by keeping on the sunny side 
of the house, or in stormy weather, in the corner of the 
kitchen chimney. But the great difficulty was to keep 
warm during the night. 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 was carried to the mill, 
and crawled into that. Sleeping there with my head in 
and my feet out, I was partly protected, though never com- 
fortable. My feet have been so cracked with the frost 



86 MISS LUCBETIA. 

that the pen with which I am writing might be laid in the 
gashes. Our corn meal mush, which was our only regu- 
lar if not all-sufficing diet, when sufficiently cooled from 
the cooking, was placed in a large tray or trough. This 
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 would come, some with 
oyster-shells, some with pieces of shingles, but none with 
spoons, and literally devour the mush. He who could eat 
fastest got most, and he that was strongest got the best 
place, but few left the trough really satisfied. I was the 
most unlucky of all, for Aunt Katy had no good feeling 
for me, and if I pushed the 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 became more 
and more filled with a sense of my wretchedness. The 
unkindness of Aunt Katy, the hunger and cold I suffered, 
and the terrible reports of wrongs and outrages which 
came to my ear, together with what I almost daily wii> 
nessed, led me to wish I had never been born. I used to- 
contrast my condition with that of the black-birds, in 
whose wild and sweet songs I fancied them so happy. 
Their apparent joy only deepened the shades of my sor- 
row. 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 eld, 
as I am now. Without any appeals to books, to laws, or 
to authorities of any kind, to regard God as "Our Father," 
condemned slavery as a crime. 

I was in this unhappy state when I received from Miss 
Lucretia the joyful intelligence that my old master had 



HE IS SENT TO BALTIMORE. 87 

determined to let me go to Baltimore to live with Mr. 
Hugh Auld, a brother to Mr. Thomas Auld, Miss Lucre- 
tia's husband. I shall never forget the eestacy with 
which I received this information, three days before the 
time set for my departure. They were the three happiest 
days I had ever known. I spent the largest part of them 
in the creek, washing off the plantation scurf, and thus 
preparing for my new home. Miss Lucretia took a lively 
interest in getting me ready. She told me I must get all 
the dead skin off my feet and knees, for the people in 
Baltimore were very cleanly, and would laugh at me if I 
looked dirty ; and besides she was intending to give me a 
pair of trowsers, but which I could not put on unless I 
got all the dirt off. This was a warning which I was 
bound to heed, for the thought of owning and wearing a 
pair of trowsers was great indeed. So I went at it in 
good earnest, working for the first time in my life in the 
hope of reward. I was greatly excited, and could hardly 
consent to sleep lest I should be left. 

The ties that ordinarily bindj?hildren tn their homes had 
no existence in my case, and in thinking of a home else- 
where, I was confident of finding none that I should relish 
less than the one I was leaving. If I should meet with 
hardship, hunger, and nakedness, I had known them all 
before, and I could endure them elsewhere, especially in 
Baltimore, for I had something of the feeling about that 
city that 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 in speech (he stuttered im- 
moderately), he had inspired me with that desire by his 
eloquent descriptions of the place. Tom was sometimes 
cabin-boy on board the sloop " Sally Lloyd " (which Capt. 
Thomas Auld commanded), and when he came home 

f 



88 ON THE SALLY LLOYD. 

from Baltimore he was always a sort of hero among us, 
at least till his trip to Baltimore was forgotten. I could 
never tell him anything, or point out anything that struck 
me as beautiful or powerful, but that he had seen some- 
thing in Baltimore far surpassing it. Even the " great 
house," with all its pictures within and pillars without, he 
had the hardihood to say, " was nothing to Baltimore." 
He bought a trumpet (worth sixpence) and brought it 
home ; told what he had seen in the windows of the 
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 Mar- 
ket house ; of the ringing of the bells, and of many other 
things which roused my curiosity very much, and in- 
deed brightened 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 planta- 
tion what I hoped would be the last look I should give to 
it, or to any place like it. After taking this last view, I 
quitted the quarter-deck, made my way to the bow of the 
boat, and spent the remainder of the day in looking 
ahead ; interesting myself in what was in the distance, 
rather than in what was near by, or behind. The vessels 
sweeping along the bay were objects full of interest to 
me. 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, stopping 
there not long enough to admit of 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 



HIS KIND RECEPTION. 89 

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 " I had left behind. So the greatworld was open- 
ing upon me, 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 a large flock of sheep for the Baltimore 
market ; and after assisting in driving them to the slaugh- 
ter house of Mr. Curtiss, on London Slater's hill, I was 
conducted by Rich one of the hands belonging to the 
sloop to my new home on Alliciana street, near Gardi- 
ner's ship yard, on Fell's point. Mr. and Mrs. Hugh 
Auld, my new master and mistress, 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 pres- 
ent of me, and, though there was no legal form or ar- 
rangement entered into, I have no doubt that Mr. and 
Mrs. Auld felt that in due time I should be the legal prop- 
erty 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 emo- 
tions ; 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 de- 
lighted me, and lit up, to my fancy, the pathway of my 
future. 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. With these little 



90 TURNING POINT IN HIS LIFE. 

ceremonies I was initiated into my new home, and entered 
upon my peculiar duties, then unconscious of a cloud to 
dim its broad horizon. 

I may say here that I regard my removal from Col. 
Lloyd's plantation as one of the most interesting and for- 
tunate events of my life. Viewing it in the light of hu- 
man likelihoods, it is quite probable that but for the mere 
circumstance of being thus removed, before the rigors of 
slavery had fully fastened upon me ; before my young 
spirit had been crushed under the iron control of the 
slave-driver, I might have continued in slavery until 
emancipated by the war. 



CHAPTER X. 

LEARNING TO READ. 

City annoyances Plantation regrets My mistress Her history 
Her kindness My master His sourness My comforts Increased 
sensitiveness My occupation Learning to read Baneful effects 
of slaveholding on my dear, good mistress Mr. Hugh forbids Mrs. 
Sophia to teach me further Clouds gather on my bright prospects 
Master Auld's exposition of the Philosophy of Slavery City 
slaves Country slaves Contrasts Exceptions Mr. Hamilton's 
two slaves Mrs. Hamilton's cruel treatment of them Piteous as- 
pect presented by them No power to come between the slave and 
slaveholder. 

ESTABLISHED in my new home in Baltimore, I was 
not very long in perceiving that in picturing to my- 
self what was to be my life there, my imagination had 
painted only the bright side ; and that the reality had its 
dark shades as well as its light ones. The open coun- 
try which had been so much to me was all shut out. 
Walled in on every side by towering brick buildings, the 
heat of the summer was intolerable to me, and the hard 
brick pavements almost blistered my feet. If I ventured 
out on to the streets, new and strange objects glared upon 
me at every step, and startling sounds greeted my ears 
from all directions. My country eyes and ears were con- 
fused and bewildered. Troops of hostile boys pounced 
upon me at every corner. They chased me, and called 
me " Eastern-Shore man," till really I almost wished my- 
self back on the Eastern Shore. My new mistress happily 
proved to be all she had seemed, and in her presence I 
easily forgot all outside annoyances. Mrs. Sophia was 
naturally of an excellent disposition kind, gentle, and 

(91) 



92 HIS NEW MISTRESS. 

cheerful. The supercilious contempt for the rights and 
feelings of others, and the petulance and bad humor 
which generally characterized slaveholding ladies, were 
all quite absent from her manner and bearing toward 
me. 

She had never been a slaveholder a thing then quite 
unusual at the South but had depended almost entirely 
upon her own industry for a living. To this fact the dear 
lady no doubt owed the excellent preservation of her nat- 
ural goodness of heart, for slavery could change a saint 
into a sinner, and an angel into a demon. I hardly knew 
how to behave towards " Miss Sopha," as I used to call 
Mrs. Hugh Auld. I could not approach her even as I 
had formerly approached Mrs. Thomas Auld. Why 
should 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 came to regard her as something more 
akin to a mother than a slaveholding mistress. . So far 
from deeming it impudent in a slave to look her straight 
in the face, she seemed ever to say, " look up, child ; don't 
be afraid." The sailors belonging to the sloop esteemed 
it a great privilege to be the bearers of parcels or mes- 
sages for her, for whenever they came, they were sure of a 
most kind and pleasant reception. If little Thomas was 
her son, and her most dearly loved child, she made me 
something like his half-brother in her affections. If dear 
Tommy was exalted to a place on his mother's knee, 
" Freddy " was honored by a place at the mother's side. 
Nor did the slave-boy lack the caressing strokes of her 
gentle hand, soothing him into the consciousness that, 
though motherless, he was not friendless. Mrs. Auld was 
not only kind-hearted, but remarkably pious ; frequent in 
her attendance of public worship, much given to reading 
the Bible, and to chanting hymns of praise when alone. 



HER KIND TREATMENT. 93 

Mr. Hugh was altogether a different character. He cared 
very little about religion ; knew more of the world and 
was more a part 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, and when he smiled upon me, as he sometimes 
did, the smile was borrowed from his lovely wife, and like 
borrowed light, was transient, and vanished with the 
source whence it was derived. Though I must in truth 
characterize Master Hugh as a sour man of forbidding 
appearance, it is due to him to acknowledge that he was 
never cruel to me, according to the notion of cruelty in 
Maryland. During the first year or two, he left me al- 
most 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 
phsicail^_ajid^ mentally muchjaoi^-nrnm'tivOj n.pd a frown 
from my mistress caused me far more suffering than had 
Aunt Katy's hardest cuffs. Instead of the cold, damp 
floor of my old master's kitchen, I was on carpets ; for 
the corn bag in winter, I had a good straw bed, well fur- 
nished with covers ; for the coarse corn meal in the morn- 
ing, I had good bread and mush occasionally ; for my old 
tow-linen shirt, I had good clean clothes. I was really 
well off. My employment was to run of 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 gen- 
erally. 

So for a time everything went well. I say for a time, 
because the fatal poison of irresponsible power, and the 
natural influence of slave customs, were not very long in 
making their impression on the gentle and loving dispo- 
sition of my excellent mistress. She regarded me at first 



94 FORBIDDEN TO TEACH HIM. 

as a child, like any other. This was the natural and 
spontaneous thought ; afterwards, when she came to con- 
sider me as property, our relations to each other were 
changed, but a nature so noble as hers could not instantly 
become perverted, and it took several years before the 
sweetness of her temper was wholly lost. 

The frequent hearing of my mistress reading the Bible 
aloud, for she often read aloud when her husband was 
absent, awakened my curiosity in respect to this mystery 
of reading, and roused in me the desire to learn. Up to 
this time I had known nothing whatever of this wonder- 
ful art, and my ignorance and inexperience of what it 
could do for me, as well as my confidence in my mistress, 
^emboldened me to ask her to teach me to read. With an 
unconsciousness and inexperience equal to my own, she 
readily consented, and in an incredibly short time, by her 
kind assistance, I had mastered 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, and of her intention to persevere in teaching 
me, as she felt her duty to do, at least to read the Bible. 
And here arose the first dark cloud over my Baltimore 
prospects, the precursor of chilling blasts and drenching 
storms. Master Hugh was astounded beyond measure, 
and probably for the first time proceeded to unfold to his 
wife the true philosophy of the slave system, and the 
peculiar rules necessary in the nature of the case to be 
observed in the management of human chattels. Of 
course he forbade her to give me any further instruction, 
telling her in the first place that to do so was unlawful, 
as it was also unsafe ; " for," said he, " if you give a nig- 
ger an inch he will take an ell. Learning will spoil the 



THE EFFECT ON HIM. 97 

best nigger in the world. If he learns to read the Bible 
it will forever unfit him to be a slave. He should know 
nothing but the will of his master, and learn to obey it. 
As to himself, learning will do him no good, but a great 
deal of harm, making him disconsolate and unhappy. If 
you teach him how 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 ; and it must be confessed that he very clearly 
comprehended the nature and the requirements of the rela- 
tion of master and slave. His discourse was the first de- 
cidedly anti-slavery lecture to which it had been my lot to 
listen. Mrs. Auld evidently felt the force of what he 
said, and like an obedient wife, beganto shape her course 
in the direction indicated by him. The effect of his words 
on me was neither slight nor transitory. His iron sen- 
tences, cold and harsh, sunk like heavy weights deep into 
my heart, and stirred up within me a rebellion not soon to 
be allayed. 

This was a new and special revelation, dispelling a pain- 
ful 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 pro- 
position, and from that moment I understood the direct 
pathway from slavery to freedom. It was just what I 
needed, and it came to me at a time and from a source 
whence I least expected it. Of course I was greatly sad- 
dened 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 underrated my 
comprehension, and had little idea of the use to which I 
was capable of putting the impressive lesson he was giv- 



98 

ing to his wife. He wanted me to be a slave ; I had al- 
ready 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 ig- 
norance only rendered me the more resolute to seek intel- 
ligence. In learning to read, therefore, I ain not sure that 
I do not owe quite as much to the opposition of my mas- 
ter 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 



CHAPTER XI. 

GROWING IN KNOWLEDGE. 

My mistress Her slaveholding duties Their effects on her originally 
noble nature The conflict in her mind She opposes my learning to 
read Too late She had given me the "inch," I was resolved to 
take the "ell" How I pursued my study to read My tutors 
What progress I made Slavery What I heard said about it Thir- 
teen years old Columbian orator Dialogue Speeches Sheridan 
Pitt Lords Chatham and Fox Knowledge increasing Liberty 
Singing Sadness Unhappiness of Mrs. Sophia My hatred of 
slavery One Upas tree overshadows us all. 

I LIVED in the family of Mr. Auld, at Baltimore, seven 
years, during which time, as the almanac makers say 
of the weather, my condition was variable. The most in- 
teresting 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 my sense of candor and 
uprightness. My mistress, checked in her benevolent 
designs toward me, not only ceased instructing me 
herself, but set her face as a flint against my learning to 
read by any means. It is due to her to say, however, 
that she did not adopt this course in all its stringency at 
first. She either thought it unnecessary, or she lacked 
the depravity needed to make herself forget at once my 
human nature. She was, as I have said, naturally a 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. 

(99) 



100 HOUSEHOLD HAPPINESS DESTROYED. 

Nature never intended that men and women should be 
either slaves or slaveholders, and nothing but rigid train- 
ing long persisted in, can perfect the character of the one 
or the other. 

Mrs. Auld was singularly deficient in the qualities of a 
slaveholder. It was no easy matter for her to think or 
to feel that the curly-headed boy, who stood by her side, 
and even leaned on her lap, who was loved by little Tom- 
my, and who loved little Tommy in turn, sustained to her 
only the relation of a chattel. I was more than that; 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 noblest 
powers of her soul ? That struggle came, and the will 
and power of the husband were victorious. Her noble 
soul was overcome, and he who wrought the wrong was 
injured in the fall no less than the rest of the household. 
When I went into that household, it was the abode of 
happiness and contentment. The wife and mistress there 
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 Chris- 
tian." There was no sorrow nor suffering for which she 
had not a tear, and there was no innocent joy for which 
she had not a smile. She had bread for the hungry, 
clothes for the naked, and comfort for every mourner who 
came within her reach. 

But slavery soon proved its ability to divest her of 
these excellent qualities, and her home of its early happi- 
ness. Conscience cannot stand much violence. Once 
thoroughly injured, who is he who can repair the damage ? 
I it be broken toward the slave on Sunday, it will be 
toward the master on Monday. It cannot long endure 



HT8 PLAYMATES. 101 

such shocks. It must stand unharmed, or it does not 
stand at all. As my condition in the family waxed bad, 
that of the family waxed no 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, 
my mistress had to seek to justify herself to herself, and 
once consenting to take sides in such a debate, she was 
compelled to hold her position. One needs little knowl- 
edge of moral philosophy to see where she inevitably 
landed. She finally became even more violent in her 
opposition to my learning to read than was Mr. Auld 
himself. Nothing now appeared to make her more angry 
than seeing me, seated in some nook or corner, quietly 
reading a book or newspaper. She would rush at me 
with the utmost fury, and snatch the book or paper from 
my hand, with something of the wrath and consternation 
which a traitor might be supposed to feel on being dis- 
covered in a plot by some dangerous spy. The conviction 
once thoroughly established in her mind, that education 
and slavery were incompatible with each other, I was 
most narrowly watched in all my movements. If I re- 
mained in a separate room from the family for any con- 
siderable length of time, I was sure to be suspected of 
having a book, and was at once called to give an account 
of myself. But this was too late : the first and never-to- 
be-retraced step had been taken. Teaching me the 
alphabet had been. the "inch" given, I was now waiting 
only for the opportunity to " take the ell." 

Filled with the determination to learn to read at any 
cost, I hit upon many expedients to accomplish that much 
desired end. The plan which I mainly adopted, and the 
one which was the most successful, was that of using my 
young white playmates, with whom I met on the streets, 
as teachers. I used to carry almost constantly a copy of 



102 HE IS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD. 

Webster's spelling-book in my pocket, and when sent of 
errands, or when play-time was allowed me, I would step 
aside with my young friends and take a lesson in spelling. 
I am greatly indebted to these boys Gustavus Dorgan, 
Joseph Bailey, Charles Farity, and William Cosdry. 

Although slavery was a delicate subject, and very cau- 
tiously 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 curbstone 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 aright to be free as you have?" Words like 
\ these, I observed, always troubled them ; and I had no 
\ small satisfaction in drawing out from them, as I occa- 
1 sionally did, that fresh and bitter condemnation of 
I slavery which ever springs from nature unseared and 
* unperverted. Of all conscience, let me have those to 
deal with, which have not been seared and bewildered 
with the cares and perplexities of life. I do not remem- 
ber ever to have met with a boy while I was in slavery, 
who defended the system, but I do remember many times, 
when I was consoled by them, and by them encouraged 
to hope that something woujd yet occur by which I would 
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." It is easily seen that such little 
conversations with my playfellows had no tendency to 
weaken my love of liberty, nor to render me contented as 
a slave. 

When I was about thirteen years old, and had suc- 
ceeded in learning to read, every increase of knowledge, 
especially anything respecting the free states, was an 



THE COLUMBIAN ORATOR A TREASURE. 103 

additional weight to the almost intolerable burden of my 
thought " I am a slave for life" To my bondage I 
could see no "en37 It was a tumble reality, and I shall 
never be able to tell how sadly that thought chafed my 
young spirit. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I had earned 
a little money in blacking boots for some gentlemen, with 
which I purchased of Mr. Knight, on Thames street, what 
was then a very popular school book, viz., " The Colum- 
bian Orator," for which I paid fifty cents. I was led to 
buy this book by hearing some little boys say they were 
going to learn some pieces out of it for the exhibition. 
This volume was indeed a rich treasure, and every oppor- 
tunity afforded me, for a time, was spent in diligently 
perusing it. Among much other interesting matter, that 
which I read again and again 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, the 
quondam slave made a spirited defense of himself, and 
thereafter the whole argument for and against slavery is 
brought out. The master was vanquished at every turn 
in the argument, and appreciating the fact he generously 
and meekly emancipates the slave, with his best wishes 
for his prosperity. 



104 BOOKS HE READ. 

It is unnecessary to say that a dialogue with such 
an origin and such an end, read by me when every nerve 
of my being was in revolt at my own condition as a slave, 
affected me most powerfully. I could not help feeling 
that the\ day might yet come when the well-directed 
answers made by the slave to the master, in this instance, 
would find a counterpart in my own experience. This, 
however, was not all the fanaticism which I found in the 
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 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 often flashed through my mind and 
died away for want of words in which to give them utter- 
ance. The mighty power and heart-searching directness 
of truth penetrating the heart of a slave-holder, compelling 
him to yield up his earthly interests to the claims of eter- 
nal justice, were finely illustrated in the dialogue, and 
from the speeches of Sheridan I gofr a bold and powerful 
denunciation of oppression and a most brilliant vindica- 
tionjDf the rights of man. 

/ Here was indeed a noble acquisition. If I had ever 
( wavered under the consideration that the Almighty, in 
some way, had ordained slavery and willed my enslave- 
ment for His own glory, I wavered no longer. I had now 
penetrated to the secret of all slavery and all oppression, 
and had ascertained their true foundation to be in the 
pride, the power, and the avarice of man. With a book 
in my hand so redolent of the principles of liberty, with a 



MASTER'S PREDICTIONS VERIFIED. 105 

perception of my own human nature and the facts of my 
past and present experience, I was equal to a contest with 
the religious advocates of slavery, whether white or black, 
for blindness in this matter was not confined to the wfrite 
people. I have met many good, religious colored people 
,at the south, who were under the delusion that God re- 
quired them to submit to slavery and to wear their chains 
with meekness and humility. I could entertain no such 
nonsense as this, and I quite lost my patience when I 
found a colored man weak enough to believe such stuff. 
Nevertheless, eager as I was to partake of the tree of 
knowledge, its fruits were bitter as well as sweet. 
" Slaveholders," thought I, " are only a band of success- 
ful robbers, who, leaving their own homes, 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. And as I read, behold ! the very discon- 
tent so graphically predicted by Master Hugh had already 
come upon me. I was no longer the light-hearted, glee- 
some boy, full of mirth and play, as when I landed in 
Baltimore. Light had penetrated the moral dungeon 
where I had lain, and I saw the bloody whip for my back, 
and the iron chain for my feet, and my good, kind master, 
he was the author of my situation. The revelation 
haunted me, stung me, and made me gloomy and miser- 
able. As I writhed under the sting and torment of this 
knowledge I almost envied my fellow slaves their stupid 
indifference. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, and 
revealed the teeth of the frightful dragon that was ready 
to pounce upon me ; but alas, it opened no way for my 
escape. I wished myself a beast, a bird, anything rather 
than a slave. I was wretched and gloomy beyond my 
ability to describe. This everlasting thinking distressed / 
and tormented me ; and yet there was no getting rid of ' 
this subject of my thoughts. Liberty, as the inestimable 
5 



106 REFLECTIONS ON SLAVERY. 

birthright of every man, converted every object into an 
asserter of this right. I heard it in every sound, and saw 
it in every object. It was ever present to torment me 
with a sense of my wretchedness. The more beautiful 
and charming were the smiles of nature, the more hor- 
rible 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 it looked at me in every 
star, it 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 treatment 
which my mistress adopted towards me. I can easily 
believe that my leaden, downcast, and disconsolate look 
was very offensive to her. Poor lady ! She did not un- 
derstand my trouble, and I could not tell her. Could I 
have 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. As it was, her abuse fell upon me 
like the blows of the false prophet upon his ass; she did 
not know that an angel stood in the way. Nature made 
us friends, but slavery had made us enemies. My inter- 
ests 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 misery. 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 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 felt to them as to rob- 
bers and deceivers. The feeding and clothing me well 
could not atone for taking my liberty from me. The 



HIS MISTRESS' CHANGED TREATMENT. 107 

smiles of my mistress could not remove the deep sorrow 
that dwelt in my young bosom. Indeed, these came in 
time but 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. 



CHAPTER XII. 

RELIGIOUS NATURE AWAKENED. 

Abolitionists spoken of Eagerness to know the meaning of word 
Consults the dictionary Incendiary information The enigma 
solved "Nat Turner" insurrection Cholera Religion Metho- 
dist minister Religious impressions Father Lawson His char- 
acter and occupation His influence over me Our mutual attach- 
ment New hopes and aspirations Heavenly light Two Irishmen 
on wharf Conversation with them Learning to write My 
aims. 

IN the unhappy state of mind described in the fore- 
going chapter, regretting my very existence because 
doomed to a life of bondage, so goaded and so wretched 
as to be even tempted at times to take my own life, I was 
most keenly sensitive to know any and everything pos- 
sible that had any relation to the subject of slavery. I 
wasall ears, all eyes, whenever the words slave or slavery 
dropped from the lips of any white person, and the occa- 
sions became more and more frequent when these words 
became leading ones in high, social debate at our house. 
Very often I would overhear Master Hugh, or some of 
his company, speak with much warmth of the " abolition- 
ists" Who or what the abolitionists were, I was totally 
ignorant. I found, however, that whoever or whatever 
they might be, they were most cordinally hated and 
abused by slaveholders of every grade. I very soon dis- 
covered too, that 'slavery was, in some sort, under consid- 
eration whenever the abolitionists were alluded to. This 
made the term a very interesting one to me. If a slave 
had made good his escape from slavery, it was generally 
alleged that he had been persuaded and assisted to do so 

(108) 



THE BALTIMORE AMERICAN. 109 

by the abolitionists. If a slave killed his master, or 
struck down his overseer, or set fire to his master's dwell- 
ing, or committed any violence or crime, out of the com- 
mon 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 
was not unfriendly to the slave, nor very friendly to 
the slaveholder. I therefore set about finding out, if pos- 
sible, who and what the abolitionists were, and why they 
were so obnoxious to the slaveholders. The dictionary 
offered 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 news- 
paper the " Baltimore American " gave me the in- 
cendiary 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 vindic- 
tive bitterness, the marked caution, the studied reserve, 
and the ambiguity practiced by our white folks when 
alluding to this subject, was now fully explained. Ever 
after that, when I heard the word Abolition, I felt the - 
matter one of a personal concern, and I drew near to 
listen whenever I could do so, without seeming too solici- 
tous 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 Xorth, and the injustice of such denunciation com- 
mented on. These I read with avidity. I had a deep 
satisfaction in the thought that the rascality of slave- 
holders was not concealed from the eyes of the world, and 



110 ABOLITIONISTS. 

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, and from this I inferred 
that they must have some power in the country, and I 
felt that they might perhaps 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 de- 
grees ; and I must say that ignorant as I was of the phi- 
losophy of that movement, I believed in it from the first, 
and I believed in it, partly, because I saw that it alarmed 
the consciences of the slaveholders. The insurrection of 
Nat. Turner had been quelled, but the alarm and terror 
which it occasioned had not subsided. The cholera was 
then on its way to this country, and I remember thinking 
that God was angry with the white people because of 
their slaveholding wickedness, and therefore his judg- 
ments were abroad in the land. Of course it was impos- 
sible for me not to hope much for the abolition movement 
when I saw it supported by the Almighty, and armed 
with DEATH. 

Previously to my contemplation of the anti-slavery move- 
ment and its probable results,' my mind had been seriously 
awakened to the subject of religion. I was not more 
than thirteen years old, when in my loneliness and desti- 
tution I longed for some one to whom I could go, as to a 
father and protector. The preaching of a white Metho- 
dist minister, named Hanson, was the means of causing 
me to feel that in God I had such a friend. 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 



FATHER LAWSON. Ill 

cannot say that I had a very distinct notion of what 
was required of me, but one thing I did know well : I was 
wretched and had no means of making myself otherwise. 
I consulted a good colored man named Charles Lawson, 
and in tones of holy affection he told me to pray, and to 
" cast all my care upon God." This I sought to do ; and 
though for weeks I was a poor, broken-hearted mourner, 
traveling through doubts and fears, I finally found my 
burden lightened, and my heart relieved. I loved all 
mankind, slaveholders not excepted, though I abhorred 
slavery more than ever. I saw the world in a new light, 
and my great concern was to have everybody converted. 
My desire to learn increased, and especially did I want a 
thorough acquaintance with the contents of the Bible. I 
have gathered scattered pages of the Bible from -the filthy 
street-gutters, and washed and dried them, that in mo- 
ments of leisure I might get a word or two of wisdom from 
them. While thus religiously seeking knowledge, I be- 
came acquainted with a good old colored man named Law- 
son. This man not only prayed three times 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 any one, were about a better 
world. Uncle Lawson lived near Master Hugh's house, 
and becoming deeply attached to him, 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 
refreshing times we had together, in singing and praying. 
These meetings went on for a long time without the 
knowledge of Master Hugh or my mistress. Both knew, 
however, that I had become religious, and seemed to 
respect my conscientious piety. My mistress was still a 



112 HIS GOOD ADVICE. 

professor of religion, and belonged to class. Her leader 
was no less a person than Rev. Beverly Waugh, the pre- 
siding elder, and afterwards one of the bishops of the 
Methodist Episcopal church. 

In view of the cares and anxieties incident to the life 
she was 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 luke- 
warm, and needed to be looked up by her leader. This 
often brought Mr. Waugh to our house, and gave me an 
opportunity to hear him exhort and pray. But my chief 
instructor in religious matters was Uncle Lawson. H 
was my spiritual father and I loved him intensely, a 
was at his house every chance I could get. This pleasure, 
however, .was not long unquestioned. Master Hugh 
became averse to our intimacy, and threatened to whip 
me if I ever went there again. I now felt myself perse- 
cuted by a wicked man, and I would go. The good old 
man had told me that the " Lord had great work for me 
to do," and I must prepare to do it ; that he had been 
shown that I must preach the gospel. His words made 
a very deep impression upon me, and I verily felt that 
some such work was before me, though I could not see 
how I could ever engage in its performance. " The good 
Lord would bring it to pass in his own good time," he 
said, and that I must go on reading and studying the 
Scriptures. This advice and these suggestions were not 
without their influence on my character and destiny. 
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 would tell him, "I am a 
slave, and a slave for life, how can I do anything ? " he 
would quietly answer, " The Lord can make you free, my 



A FRIENDLY IRISHMAN. 118 

dear; all things are possible with Him; only have faith 
in God. < Ask, and it shall be given you.' If you want 
liberty, ask the Lord for it in FAITH, and He will give it to 



Thus assured and thus 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 see- 
ing two Irishmen unloading a 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 for life." The 
good Irishman gave a shrug, and seemed deeply affected. 
He said it was a pity so fine a little fellow as I was 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 should then 
be as free as anybody. I pretended not to be interested in 
what they said, for I feared they might be. treacherous. 
White men were not unfrequently known to encourage 
slaves to escape, and then, to get the reward, they would 
kidnap them and return them to their masters. While 
I mainly inclined to the notion that these men were 
honest and meant me no ill, I feared it might be other- 
wise. 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 



114 LEARNING TO WRITE. 

time which 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 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 ready a piece of timber to 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 was marked 
"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 now was 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 letters I 

can make more." Having made these readily and easily, 

when I met boys about the Bethel church or on 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 

j- could." With play-mates for my teachers, fences and 

/ pavements^for my co"py^5oo1ts, and chalk for my pen and 

I ink, I learned to write. I however adopted, afterward, 



HIS PROGRESS. 115 

various methods for improving my hand. The most suc- 
cessful 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 had been laid care- 
fully away. Spending parts of my time both at the ship- 
yard and the house, I was often the lone keeper ot 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 marking the highly- 
prized copy-books of the oldest son. In addition to these 
opportunities, sleeping as I did in the kitchen loft, a room 
seldom visited by any of the family, I contrived to get a 
flour-barrel up there and a chair, and upon the head of 
that barrel I have written, or endeavored to write, copy- 
ing from the Bible and the Methodist hymn-book, and 
other books which I had accumulated, 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 these meetings, I 
must say for his credit that he never executed his threats 
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 Sent for to come to Hillsborough to be valued and divided 
Sad prospects and grief Parting Slaves have no voice in 
deciding their own destinies General dread of falling into Master 
Andrew's hands His drunkenness Good fortune in falling to 
Miss Lucretia She allows my return to Baltimore Joy at Master 
Hugh's Death of Miss Lucretia Master Thomas Auld's second 
marriage The new wife unlike the old Again removed from 
Master Hugh's Reasons for regret Plan of escape. 

I MUST now ask the reader to go back with me a 
little in point of time, in my humble story, and 
notice another circumstance that entered into my slavery 
experience, and which, doubtless, has had a share in 
deepening my horror of slavery, and 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 Auld, 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 -my old master himself died, leaving 
only his daughter Lucretia and his son Andrew to share 
the estate. The old man died while on a visit to his 
daughter in Hillsborough, where Capt. Auld and Mrs. 
Lucretia now lived, Master Thomas having given up the 

(116) 



CHATTELS TO BE DIVIDED. 117 

command of Col. Lloyd's sloop and was now keeping 
store in that town. 

Cut off thus unexpectedly, Capt. Anthony died intes- 
tate, and his property must be equally divided between 
his two children, Andrew and Lucretia. 

The valuation and division of slaves among contending 
heirs was a most important incident in slave life. The 
characters and tendencies of the heirs were generally well 
understood by the slaves who were to be divided, and all 
had their aversions and their preferences. But neither 
their aversions nor their preferences availed anything. 

On the death of old master I was immediately sent for 
to be valued and divided with the other property. Per- 
sonally, my concern was mainly about my possible re- 
moval from the home of Master Hugh, for up to this time 
there had no dark clouds arisen to darken the sky of that 
happy abode. It was a sad day to me when I left for the 
Eastern Shore, to be valued and divided, as it was for my 
dear mistress and teacher, and for little Tommy. We all 
three wept bitterly, for we were parting, and it might be 
we were parting forever. No one could tell amongst 
which pile of chattels I might be flung. Thus early, I 
got a foretaste of that painful uncertainty which in one 
form or another was ever obtruding itself in the pathway 
of the slave. It furnished me a new insight into the 
unnatural power to which I was subjected. Sickness, 
adversity, and death may interfere with the plans and 
purposes of all, but the slave had the added danger of 
changing homes, in the 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 thinking 
human beings, in open contempt of their humanity, leveled 
at a blow with horses, sheep, horned cattle, and swine. 
Horses and men, cattle and women, pigs and children 



118 CONSTERNATION AT THE PROSPECT. 

all holding the same rank in the scale of social existence, 
and all subjected to the same narrow inspection, to ascer- 
tain their value in gold and silver the only standard of 
worth applied by slaveholders to their slaves. Personality 
swallowed up in the sordid idea of property ! Manhood 
lost in chattelhood ! 

The valuation over, then came the division and appor- 
tionment. Our destiny was 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 hay-mow. 
One word of the appraisers, against all preferences and 
prayers, could sunder all the ties of friendship and affec- 
tion, even to separating husbands and wives, parents and 
children. We were all appalled before thstfc power which, 
to human seeming, could bless or blast us in a moment. 
Added to this dread of separation, most painful to the 
majority of the slaves, we all had a decided horror of 
falling into the hands of Master Andrew, who was dis- 
tinguished for his cruelty and intemperance. 

Slaves had a great dread, very naturally, of falling into 
the hands of drunken owners. Master Andrew was a 
confirmed sot, and had already by his profligate dissipa- 
tion wasted a large portion of his father's property. To 
fall into his hands, therefore, was considered as the first 
step toward being sold away to the far South. He would 
no doubt spend his fortune in a few years, it was thought, 
and his farms and slaves would be sold at public auction, 
and the slaves hurried away to the cotton-fields and rice- 
swamps of the burning South. This was 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 had the slaves. Their freedom 
to com and go, to be here or there, as they list, prevents 
any extravagant attachment to any one particular place. 



PLUMMER'S RULE ox THEIR BACKS. 119 

On the other hand, the slave was a fixture ; he had no 
choice, no goal, but was pegged down to one single spot, 
and must take root there or nowhere. The idea of re- 
moval elsewhere came generally in shape of a threat, and 
in punishment for crime. It was therefore attended with 
fear and dread. 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 
expect to rise to wealth and distinction, could have no 
place in the thought of the slave ; nor could those from 
whom they separated know anything of 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 the hope of reunion, but with 
the slaves all these mitigating circumstances were want- 
ing. There was no improvement in condition probable ^^ 
no correspondence possible no reunion attainable. His \ 
going out into the world was like a living man going into I 
the tomb, who, with open eyes, sees himself buried/ . 
out of sight and hearing of wife, children, and friends or 
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 experi- 
ence 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 rigors of Mr. Plummer's rule. He had written his 
character on the living parchment of most of their backs, 
and left them seamed and callous ; my back (thanks to 
my early removal to Baltimore) was yet tender. I had 
left a kind mistress in tears when we parted, and the 
probability of ever seeing her again, trembling in the 



120 DREAD OF MASTER ANDREW. 

balance, as it were, could not fail to excite in me alarm 
and agony. The thought of becoming the slave of Andrew 
Anthony who but a few days before the division 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. After inflicting this cruel treatment on my 
brother, observing me, as I looked at him in astonish- 
ment, he said, " That's the way I'll serve you, one of 
these days " ; meaning, probably, when I should come 
into his possession. This threat, the reader may well 
suppose, was not very tranquilizing to my feelings. 

At last the anxiety and suspense were ended ; and 
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 in her father's kitchen, 
and shielded me from the maledictions of Aunt Katy. 

Capt. Thomas Auld and Mrs. Lucretia at once decided 
on my return to Baltimore. They knew how warmly 
Mrs. Hugh Auld was attached to me, and how delighted 
Tommy would be to see me, and withal, having no imme- 
diate use for me, they willingly concluded this arrange- 
ment. 

I need not stop to narrate my joy on finding myself 
back in Baltimore. I was just one month absent, but the 
time seemed fully six months. 

I had returned to Baltimore but a short time when the 
tidings reached me that my kind friend, Mrs. Lucretia, 
was dead. She left one child, a daughter, named Amanda, 
of whom I shall speak again. Shortly after the death of 
Mrs. Lucretia, Master Andrew died, leaving a wife and 
one child. Thus the whole family of Anthonys, as it ex- 



INGRATITUDE TO GRANDMOTHER. 121 

isted when I went to Col. Lloyd's place, was swept away 
during the first five years' time of my residence at Master 
Hu<i'h Auld's in Baltimore. 

No especial alteration took place in the condition of the 
slaves, in consequence of these deaths, yet I could not 
help the feeling that I was less secure now that Mrs. 
Lucretia was gone. While she lived, I felt that I had a/ 
strong friend to plead for me in any emergency. 

In a little book which I published six years after my 
escape from slavery, entitled, "Narrative of Frederick 
Douglass," when the distance between the past then 
described and the present was not so great as it is now 
speaking of these changes in my master's family, and 
their results, 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 accumu- 
lating it. Not a slave was left free. All remained slaves, 
from the youngest to the oldest. If any one thing in my 
experience, more than another, had served to deepen my 
conviction of the infernal character of slavery, and 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 his 
infancy, attended him in his 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 never- 
theless 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, my 



122 

grandmother, who was now very old, having outlived my 
old master and all his children, having seen the beginning 
and end of them, and her present owner his grandson 
finding she was of but little value her frame already 
racked with the pains of old age, and complete helpless- 
ness fast stealing over her once active limbs took her 
to the woods, built her a little hut with a mud chimney, and 
then gave her the bounteous privilege of supporting her- 
self there in utter leneliness ; thus virtually turning her 
out to die. If my poor, dear old grandmother now lives, 
she lives to remember and mourn over the loss of children, 
the loss of grandchildren, and the loss of great-grand- 
children. They are, in the language of Whittier, the 
slave's poet : 

' 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's hills and waters 
Woe is me, my stolen daughters P 

" The hearth is desolate. 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, 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 help- 
less infancy, and painful old age combine together, at this 



ANOTHER SHOCK. 123 

time, this most needed time for the exercise of that 
tenderness and affection which children only can bestow 
on 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 cinders." 

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. Michaels, the then 
place of Master Thomas Atild's residence. 

Not long after his marriage, Master Thomas had a 
misunderstanding with Master Hugh, and as a means of 
punishing him, he ordered him to send me home. As 
the ground of the misunderstanding will serve to illustrate 
the character of Southern chivalry and Southern hu- 
manity, fifty years ago, 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 had burnt her hands so badly 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 hav- 
ing of little more value than a horse with a broken leg. 
This unprofitable piece of property, ill-shapen, and 
disfigured, Capt. Auld sent off to Baltimore. 

After giving poor Henny a fair trial, Master Hugh and 
his wife came to the conclusion that they had no use for 
the poor cripple, and they sent her back to Master Thomas- 
This 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. Michaels, saying, " if 
he cannot keep Hen., he shan't have Fred." 

Here was another shock to my nerves, another breaking 



124 REASONS FOR REGRET. 

up of my plans, and another severance of my religious 
and social alliances. I was now a big boy. I had be- 
come 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 with slaves 
were unavailing; my wishes were nothing; my happiness 
was thejyport of my master. 

4 33y regrets at leaving Baltimore now were not for the 
same reasons as when I before left the city to be valued 
and handed over to a new owner. 

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 of slavery and 
social isolation on her, had wrought disastrously upon the 
characters of both. Thomas was no longer " little Tom- 
my," but was a big boy, and had learned to assume the 
airs of his class towards me. My condition, therefore, in 
the house of Master Hugh was not by any means so com- 
fortable as in former years. My attachments were now 
outside of our family. They were to those to whom I im- 
parted 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 all the Chris- 
tian graces the very counterpart of " Uncle Tom " 

. the resemblance 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 again ; the feud 
being most bitter, and apparently wholly irreconcilable. 

In addition to the pain of parting from friends, as I 
supposed, forever, I had the added grief of neglected 
chances of escape to brood over. I had put off running 



AT ST. MICHAELS AGAIN. 125 

away until I was now to be placed where opportunities 
for escape would be much more difficult, and less frequent. 
As we sailed down the Chesapeake bay, on board the 
sloop Amanda, to St Michaels, and were passed by the 
steamers plying between Baltimore and Philadelphia, I 
formed many a plan for my future, beginning and ending 
in the same determination yet to find some way of 
escape from slavery. 



CHAPTER XIY. 

EXPERIENCE IN ST. MICHAELS. 

St. Michaels and its inhabitants Capt. Auld His new wife Suffer- 
ings from hunger Forced to steal Argument in vindication 
thereof Southern camp-meeting What Capt. Auld did there 
Hopes Suspicions The result Faith and works at variance 
Position in the church Poor Cousin Henny Methodist Preachers 
Their disregard of the slaves One exception Sabbath-school 
How and by whom broken up Sad ^change in my prospects 
Covey, the negro-breaker. 

ST. MIGHAELS, the village in which was now my new 
home, compared favorably with villages in slave 
States generally, at this time 1833. 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 of 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. Michaels had, in former years, enjoyed some repu- 
tation as a ship-building community, but that business had 
almost entirely given place to oyster-fishing for the Bal- 
timore 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 quantities, spirituous liquors, the then sup- 
posed best antidote for cold. Each canoe was supplied 
with its jug of rum, and tippling among this class of tbo 

(126) 



LIFE AT ST. MICHAELS. 

citizens 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. Michaels was an 
unsaintly, as well as unsightly place. 

I went to St. Michaels to live in March, 1833. I know 
the year, because it was the one succeeding the first 
cholera in Baltimore, and was also the year of that 
strange phenomenon when the heavens seemed about to 
part with their 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 very 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 out- 
side power ; and I Avas looking 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, Capt. Anthony, on the home plantation 
of Col. Lloyd. As I knew him then it was as the hus- 
band of old master's daughter; I had now to know him 
as my master. All my lessons concerning his temper and 
disposition, and the best methods of pleasing him, were 
yet to be learned. Slaveholders, however, were not very 
ceremonious in approaching a slave, and my ignorance of 
the new material in the shape of a master was but tran- 
sient. Nor was my new mistress long in making known 



128 MRS. ROWENA AULD. 

her animus. Unlike Miss Lucretia, whom I remembered 
with the tenderness which departed blessings leave, Mrs. 
Rowena Auld was cold and cruel, as her husband was 
stingy, and possessed the power to make him as cruel as 
herself, while she could easily descend to the level of his 
meanness. 

As long as I had lived in Mr. Hugh Auld's family, 
whatever changes had come over them there had been 
always a bountiful supply of food; and now, for the first 
time in seven years, I realized the pitiless pinchings of 
hunger. So wretchedly starved were we that we were 
compelled to live at the expense of our neighbors, or to 
steal from the home larder. This was a hard thing to 
do ; but after much reflection I reasoned myself into the 
conviction that there was no other way to do, and that 
after all there was no wrong in it. Considering that my 
labor and person were the property of Master Thomas, 
and that I was deprived of the necessaries of life--nec- 
essaries 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 the pulpit ; but I had begun to attach less impor- 
tance to what dropped from that quarter on such points. 
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 a question of removal the 
taking his meat out of one tub and putting it in another ; 
the ownership of the meat was not affected by the trans- 
action. 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 in that point, and the 



FORCED TO STEAL. 129 

key was carried in Mrs. Auld's pocket. We were often- 
times severely pinched with hunger, when meat and 
bread were mouldering under lock and key. This was 
so, when she knew we were nearly half starved ; and yet 
with saintly air would she kneel with her husband and 
pray each morning that a merciful God would " bless 
them in basket and store, and save them at last in His 
kingdom." But I proceed with my argument. 

It was necessary that the 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 some time 
before I arrived at this clear right. To give some idea 
of my train of reasoning, I will state the case as I laid it 
out in my mind. " I am," I thought, " not only the slave 
of Master 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 lib- 
erty, and of the just reward of my labor; therefore, I 
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 privi- 
leged 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 reasoned fur- 
ther, that within the bounds of his just earnings the slave 
was fully justified in helping himself to the gold and 
silver, and the best apparel of his master, or that of 
any other slave-holder ; and that such taking was not 
stealing, in any just sense of the word. 

The morality of free society could have no application 
to slave society. Slaveholders 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 stole, he but 
took his own ; if he killed his master, he only imitated 
6 



130 FAITH AND WORKS. 

the heroes of the revolution. Slaveholders I held to be 
individually and collectively responsible for all the evils 
which grew out of the horrid relation, and I believed they 
/would be so held in the sight of God. To make a man a 
slave was to rob him of moral responsibility. Freedom 
ofcTToiceis the essence of all accountability; but my 
kind readers are probably less concerned about what were 
my opinions than about that which more nearly touched 
my personal experience, albeit my opinions have, in some 
sort, been the outgrowth of my experience. 

When I lived with Capt. Auld I thought him incapable 
of a noble action. His leading characteristic was intense 
selfishness. I think he was fully aware of this fact him- 
self, and often tried to conceal it. Capt. Auld was not 
born a slaveholder not a birthright member of the slave- 
holding oligarchy. He was only a slaveholder by mar- 
riage-right ; and of all slaveholders these were by far the 
most exacting. There was in him all the love of domi- 
nation, the pride of mastery, and the swagger of authority ; 
but his rule lacked the vital element of consistency. He 
could be c" ruel ; but his methods of showing it were cow- 
ardly, and evinced his meanness, rather than his spirit. 
His commands were strong, his enforcements weak. 

Slaves were not insensible to the whole-souled qualities 
of a generous, dashing slaveholder, who was fearless of 
consequences, and they preferred 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 used 
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 
could have no respect for either, they despised the latter 
more than the former. 

The luxury of having slaves to wait upon him was 



CAPT. AULD'S CONVERSION. 131 

new to Master Thomas, and for it he was wholly unpre- 
pared. He was a slaveholder, without the ability to hold 
or manage his slaves. Failing to command their respect, 
both himself and wife were ever on the alert lest some 
indignity should be offered him by the slaves. 

It was in the month of August, 1833, when I had 
become almost desperate under the treatment of Master 
Thomas, and 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 camp-meetings), about 
eight miles from St. Michaels, 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 exhorta- 
tions of the latter. He was a fish quite worth catching, 
for he had money and standing. In the community of 
St. Michaels, he was equal to the best citizen. He was 
strictly temperate, and there was little to do for him to 
give him the appearance of piety, and to make him a 
pillar of the church. Well, the camp-meeting continued 
a week ; people gathered from all parts of the country, 
and two steamboats came loaded from Baltimore. The 
ground was happily chosen ; seats were arranged ; a 
stand erected ; a rude altar fenced in, fronting the 
preacher's stand, with straw in it, making a soft kneel- 
ing place for the accommodation of mourners. This 
place would have held at least one hundred persons. In 
front and on the sides of the preacher's stand, and out- 
side the long rows of seats, rose the first class of stately 
tents, each vieing 'with the other in strength, neatness, 
and capacity for accommodation. Behind this first circle 
of tents wat' another, less imposing, which reached round 
the camp-ground to the "speaker's stand. Outside this 



132 A CAMP MEETING. 

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 burn- 
ing in all directions, where roasting and boiling and fry- 
ing were going on, for the benefit of those who were 
attending to their spiritual welfare within the circle. 
Behind the preacher's stand, a narrow space was marked 
out for the use of the colored people. There were no 
seats provided for this class of persons, and if the 
preachers addressed them at all, it was in an aside. 
After the preaching was over, at every service, an invita- 
tion was given to mourners to come forward 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 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 preacher's 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 
the mourners, and especially the progress of Master 
Thomas. " If he has got religion," thought I, " he will 
emancipate his slaves ; or, if he should not do so much 
as this, he will at any rate behave towards 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 



MASTER THOMAS NOT CHANGED. 133 

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 
very narrowly while he remained in the pen; and although 
I saw that his face was extremely red, and his hair dishev- 
eled, 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 genuine- 
ness of the 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 has 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 might sometimes have 
confidence in the piety of some of their slaves, but slaves 
seldom have confidence in the piety of their masters. 
" He can't go to heaven without blood on his skirts," was /' 
a settled point in the creed of every slave ; which rose / 
superior to all teachings to the contrary, and stood for- ' 
ever as a fixed fact. The highest evidence the slave- 
holder could give the slave of his acceptance with God, 
was the emancipation of his slaves. This was proof to 
us that he was willing to give up all to God, and for the 
sake of God, and not to do this was, in our estimation, . 
an evidence of hard-heartedness, and was wholly incon- 
sistent with the idea of genuine conversion. I had read 
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 as much as ever convinced of the great evil 
of slavery ; therefore, no slaveholder shall be eligible to 
any officia 1 station in our church." These words sounded 
in my ears for a long time, and encouraged me to hope. 



134 

But, as I have before said, I was doomed to disappoint- 
ment. 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." 

There was always a scarcity of good-nature about the 
man ; but now his whole countenance was soured all over 
with the seemings of piety, and he became more rigid and 
stringent in his exactions. If religion had any effect at 
all on him, it made him more cruel and hateful in all his 
ways. Do I judge him harshly ? God forbid. Capt. 
Auld made the greatest professions 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 wife joined; yet no more nor 
better meal was distributed at * the quarters, 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 the preacher's stand on 
the camp-ground. Our hopes, too, founded on the disci- 
pline, soon vanished ; for he was taken into the church 
at once, and before he was out of his term of probation 
he led in class. He quite distinguished himself among 
the brethren as a fervent exhorter. His progress was 
almost as rapid as the growth of the fabled vine of Jack 
and the Bean-Stalk. No manwas more active in revivals, 
or would go more miles to assist in carrying them on, and 
in getting outsiders interested in religion. His house, 
being one of the holiest in St. Michaels, became the 
" preachers' home." They evidently liked to share his 
hospitality ; for while he starved us, he stuffed them 



THE REV. GEORGE COOKMAN. 135 

three or four of these " ambassadors " being there not 
imfrequently at a time all living on the fat of the land, 
while we in the kitchen were worse than hungry. Not 
often did we get a smile of recognition from these holy 
men. They seemed about as unconcerned about our 
getting to heaven as about our getting out of slavery. 
To this general charge 1 must make one exception 
the Reverend George Cookman. Unlike Rev. Messrs. 
Storks, Ewry, Nicky, Humphrey, and Cooper (all of whom 
were on the St. Michaels circuit), he kindly took an inter- 
est in our temporal and spiritual welfare. Our souls and 
our bodies were 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 who did not love and venerate Mr. 
Cookman. It was pretty generally believed that he had 
been instrumental in bringing one of the largest slave- 
holders in that neighborhood Mr. Samuel Harrison 
to emancipate all his slaves, and the general impression 
about Mr. Cookman was, that whenever he met slave- 
holders he labored faithfully with them, as a religious 
duty, to induce them to liberate their bondmen. 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 circuit. He 
was an eloquent preacher, and possessed what few min- 
isters, south of Mason and Dixon's line, possessed or 
dared to show ; viz., a warm and philanthropic heart. 
This Mr. Cookman was an Englishman by birth, and 
perished on board the ill-fal^ ^eamship " President," 
while on his way to Efro-land. 

But to my experience with Master Thomas after his 



136 SOMETHING WORTH LIVING FOE. 

conversion. In Baltimore I could occasionally get into a 
Sabbath-school, amongst the free children, and receive 
lessons with the rest; but having learned to read and 
write already, I was more a teacher than a scholar, even 
there. When, however, I went back to the eastern shore 
and was at the house of Master Thomas, I was not 
allowed either to teach or to be taught. The whole com- 
munity, with but one single exception, among the whites, 
frowned upon everything like imparting instruction, either 
to slaves or to free colored persons. That single excep- 
tion, a pious young man named Wilson, asked me one 
day if I would like to assist him in teaching a little Sab- 
bath-school, at the house of a free colored man named 
James Mitchell. The idea to me was a delightful one, 
and I told him I would gladly devote as much of my 
Sabbaths 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 school. Here, thought 
I, is something worth living for ; here is a chance for use- 
fulness. The first Sunday passed delightfully, and I 
spent the week after very joyously. I could not go to 
Baltimore, where I and the little company of young 
friends who had been so much to me there, and from 
whom I felt parted forever, but I could make a little Bal- 
timore here. At our second meeting I learned there were 
some objections to the existence of our school ; and sure 
enough, we had scarcely got to 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 
two class-IcauorH. Mr. Wright Fairbanks and Mr. Garri- 
son West, and v-Jtii them Master Thomas. They were 



armed with sticks afr^neY-jrJssiles, an ^ drove us onC j 
commanding us nef" er to meet f or " >jch a purpose again. 
One of this pioi] s ' crew iQ \& me that aajLj^ me, I wanted 



MASTER THOMAS' CRUELTY. 137 

to be another Nat. Turner, and if I did not look out I 
should get as many balls in me as Nat. did into him. 
Thus ended the Sabbath-school ; and the reader will not 
be surprised that this conduct, on the part of class-leaders 
and professedly holy men, did not serve to strengthen my 
religious convictions. The cloud over my St. Michaels 
home grew heavier and blacker than ever. 

It was not merely the agency of Master Thomas in 
breaking up our Sabbath-school, that shook my confidence 
in the power of that kind 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 that time. His cruelty and meanness were es- 
pecially displayed in his treatment of my unfortunate 
cousin Henny, whose lameness made her a burden to 
him. I have seen him tie up this lame and maimed 
woman and whip her i% a manner most brutal and shock- 
ing ; 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." 
He 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 dinner repeat the casti- 
gation, laying on the rugged lash on flesh already 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 Mr. Hugh, 
Henny was soon returned on his hands. Finally, upon a 
pretense that he could do nothing for 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 



138 WHIPPING NOT IMPROVING. 

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 held slaves ? his reply 
would have been precisely that which many another 
slaveholder has returned to the same inquiry, viz. : "I 
hold my slaves for their own good." 

The many differences springing up between Master 
Thomas and myself, 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 de- 
clare 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 bad. One of my greatest faults, or offences, 
was that of letting his horse get away and go down to 
the farm which belonged to his father-in-law. The ani- 
mal had a liking for that farm with which I fully sympa- 
thized. 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 good pasturage, and I found there 
plenty of bread. Mr. Hamilton had his faults, but starv- 
ing his slaves was not one of them. He gave food in 
abundance, and of excellent quality. In Mr. Hamilton's 
cook Aunt Mary I found a generous and considerate 
friend. She never allowed me to go there without giv- 
ing me bread enough to make good the deficiencies f a 
day or two. Master Thomas at last resolved to endure 
my behavior no longer ; he could keep neither 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 



BREAKING YOUNG SLAVES. 139 

given me a number of severe whippings, without any vis- 
ible improvement in my character or 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 received his religious impressions, a 
man named Edward Covey, who enjoyed the reputation 
of being a first rate hand at breaking young negroes. 
This Covey was a poor man, a farm renter ; and his repu- 
tation of being a good hand to break in slaves was of 
immense pecuniary advantage to him, since it enabled 
him to get his farm tilled with very little expense, com- 
pared with what it would have cost him otherwise. 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 
they had under his 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 he was as strict in the cultivation of piety as he was 
in the cultivation of his farm. I was made aware of 
these traits in his character by some one who had been 
under his hand, and while I could not look forward to 
going to him with any degree of pleasure, I was glad to 
get away from St. Michaels. I believed I should get 
enough to eat at Covey's, even if I suffered in other 
respects, and this to a hungry man is not a prospect to 
be regarded with indifference. 



CHAPTER XY. 

COVEY, THE NEGRO BREAKER. 

Journey to Covey's Meditations by the way Covey's house Family 
Awkwardness as a field hand A cruel beating Why given 
Description of Covey First attempt at driving oxen Hair-breadth 
escape Ox and man alike property Hard labor more effective 
than the whip for breaking down the spirit Cunning and trickery 
of Covey Family worship Shocking and indecent contempt for 
chastity Great metal agitation Anguish beyond description. 



morning of January 1, 1834, with its chilling 
I 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 towards Covey's, 
whither I had been imperiously ordered by Master Thomas. 
He had been as good as his word, and had committed 
me without reserve to the mastery of that hard man. 
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. 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 frame as I started for 
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, however, was impossible ; so, heavy 
and sad, I paced the seven miles which lay between his 

(140) 



HE IS SENT TO SCHOOL. 141 

house and St. Michaels, thinking much by the solitary 
way of my adverse 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, u but the sport of a power 
which makes no account, either of my welfare or my 
happiness. By a law which I can comprehend, but can- 
not evade or 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. Michaels ; and now from the 
latter place I am footing my way to the home of another 
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 reflec- 
tions 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 rec- 
ognized 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 
northwest wind ; Poplar Island, covered with a thick 
black pine forest, standing out amid this half ocean ; and 
Keat Point, stretching its sandy, desert-like shores out 
into the foam-crested bay, were all in sight, and served to 
deepen the wild and desolate scene. 

The good clothes I had brought with me from Balti- 
more were now worn thin, and had not been replaced ; 



142 MY BROTHER IN THE CHURCH. 

for Master Thomas was as little careful to provide against 
cold as 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 wood-colored house. The family consisted of 
Mr. and Mrs. Covey ; Mrs. Kemp (a broken-backed 
woman), sister to Mrs. Covey ; William Hughes, cousin 
to Mr. 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 comprised 
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 un- 
natural as it may seem, I had been in my new home but 
three days before Mr. Covey (my brother in the Metho- 
dist 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 by 
coming to blows at once we should mutually understand 
better our relations to each other. 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 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 



LEARNING A NEW LANGUAGE. , 143 

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 mornings of the whole month ofi 
January, 1834, I was ordered at daybreak 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 seemed that his breaking abilities 
had not been turned in that direction. In due form, and 
with all proper ceremony, I was introduced to this huge 
yoke of unbroken oxen, and was carefully made to un- 
derstand 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 been quite 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 Grreek 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 use of the "whoa," "back," "gee," "hither," the 
entire language spoken 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 



144 THE AMIABLE MB. COVEY. 

would), I must hold on to the rope and stop them. I 
need not tell any one who is acquainted with either the 
strength or 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 con- 
ceive. I could not plead my ignorance to Mr. Covey ; 
there was that in his manner which forbade any reply. 
Cold, distant, morose, with a face wearing all the marks 
of captious pride and malicious sternness, he repelled all 
advances. He was not a large man not more than five 
feet ten inches in height, I should think; short-necked, 
round-shouldered, 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 
which were constantly in motion, expressing his passions 
rather than his thoughts, in sight, but denying them utter- 
ance in words. The creature presented an appearance 
altogether ferocious and sinister, disagreeable and for- 
bidding, 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. 
I already believed him a worse fellow than he had been 
represented to be. With his directions, and without 
stopping to question, I started for the woods, quite anx- 
ious to perform my first exploit in driving in a creditable 
manner. The distance from the house to the wood's gate 
a full mile, I should think was passed over with little 
difficulty: for, although the animals ran, I was fleet 
enough in the open field to keep pace with them, especially 
as^hey pulled me along at the end' of the rope; but on 
reaching the woods, I was speedily thrown into a distress- 
ing 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 



FUNNY EXPERIENCE. 145 

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 dasheci themselves with great violence, upset- 
ting 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 minutes, surveying the damage, 
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. But 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, 



146 CROWNING DISASTER OF THE DAY. 

as a security against another runaway. But the neck of 
an ox is equal in strength to iron. It defies ordinary 
burdens. Tame and docile to a proverb, when ivell 
trained, the ox is the most sullen and intractable of 
animals when but half broken to the yoke. I saw in my 
own situation several points of similarity with that of 
the oxen. They were property ; so was I. Covey was to 
break me I was to break them. Break and be broken 
was the order 

Half of the day was already gone and I had not yet 
turned my face homeward. It required only two days' 
experience and observation to teach me that no such 
apparent waste of time would be lightly overlooked by 
Covey. I therefore hurried toward home ; but in reach- 
ing the lane gate I met the crowning disaster of 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 so doing 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 escapes I thought I 
could successfully explain to Mr. Covey the delay and 
avert 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 



f 

BREAKING OXEN. 147 

some time in the open field, preparatory to their going to 
the .woods. But in this hope I was disappointed. On 
coming to him his countenance assumed an aspect of 
rigid displeasure, and as I gave him a history of the casu- 
alties of my trip, his wolfish face, with his greenish eyes, 
became intensely ferocious. u 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, contrasting 
their present conduct to my representation of their for- 
mer antics. I almost w r ished, 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 obey- 
ing orders, and seeming to understand them quite as well 
as I did myself. On reaching the woods, my tormenter, 
who seemed all the time to be remarking to himself upon 
the good behavior of the 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 words, 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 in my apparent unconsciousness and inattention to 
-this command I indicated very plainly a stern determina- 
tion to do no such thing. " If you will beat me," thought 
I, "you shall do so over my clothes." After many 
threats, which made no impression upon me, he rushed 
at me with something of the savage fierceness of a wolf, 



148 FRUITS OF HIS EDUCATION. 

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 
offences 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 cow-skins, 
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 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 
hard at work in the field or the woods. At certain sea- 
sons 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 sur- 
prises 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 



COVEY THE BRUTE. 149 



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. Michaels, and in 
thirty minutes afterwards 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 heel, 
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 char- 
acter which the life of a slaveholder was calculated to 
produce. There was no earthly inducement in the slave's 
condition to incite him to labor faithfully. The fear of 
punishment wasthe sole motive of^ any sort of industry 
witlririnn KTnowing this fact as the slaveholder did, and 
judging the slave by himself, he naturally concluded that 
the slave would be idle whenever the cause for this fear 
was absent. Hence all sorts of petty deceptions were 
practiced to inspire fear. 

But with Mr. Covey trickery was natural. Everything 
in the shape of learning or religion which he possessed 



150 A HYPOCRITE. 



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 rela- 
tion of master and slave. I thought I saw, in his very 
religious devotions, this controlling element of his char- 
acter. A long prayer at night made up for a 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 the 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 
of these exercises ; but the repeated floggings given me 
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 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 require- 
ments of the gospel. One or two facts will illustrate his 
character better than a volume of generalities. 

I have already implied that Mr. Edward Covey was a 
poor man. He was, in fact, just commencing to lay the 
foundation of his fortune, as fortune was regarded in a 
slave state. The first condition of wealth and respecta- 
bility there being the ownership of human property, every 
nerve was strained by the poor man to obtain it, with 
little regard sometimes as to the means. In pursuit of 
this object, pious as Mr. Covey was, he proved himself as 
unscrupulous and base as the worst of his neighbors. In 
the beginning he was only able as he said "to buy one 



A HORRID SYSTEM. 151 

slave;" and scandalous and shocking as is the fact, he 
boasted that he bought her simply " as a breeder." But 
th-3 worst of this is not told in this naked statement. 
This young woman (Caroline was her name) was virtually 
compelled by 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 Covey and his wife were ecstatic with joy. 
No one dreamed of reproaching the woman or 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 farther. No 
better illustration of the unchaste, demoralizing^ and de- 
basing character of slavery can be found, than is fur- 
nished in the fact that this professedly Christian slave- 
holder, 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 stock. It was the system of 
slavery which made this allowable, and which condemned 
the slaveholder for buying a slave woman and devoting 
her to this life, no more than for buying a cow and raising 
stock from her, and the same rules were observed, with a 
view to increasing the number and quality of the one, as 
of the other. 

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 
this man Covey. We 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 
of the night. The longest days were too short for him, 
and the shortest nights were too long for him. I was 



152 HIS DESPONDENCY. 

somewhat unmanageable at the first, but a few months of 
this discipline tamed me. Mr. Covey succeeded in break- 
ing me 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 out ; the dark night of slavery closed in upon 
me, and behold a man transformed to a brute ! 

Sunday was my only leisure time. I spent this in a 
sort of beast-like stupor, between sleeping and waking, 
under some large tree. At times I would rise up, a flash 
of energetic freedom would dart through my soul, accom- 
panied with a faint beam of hope that flickered for a 
moment, and then vanished. I sank down again, mourn- 
ing over my wretched condition. I was sometimes 
tempted 'to take my life and that of Covey, but was 
prevented by a combination of hope and fear. My suffer- 
ings, as I remember them now, seem 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 white, and so delightful to the eyes of free- 
men, 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 



THOUGHTS OF FREEDOM. 153 

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 bonds of iron. 0,~that I 
were free ! 0, 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 ; 0, that I could 
also go ! Could I but swim ! If I could fly ! 0, 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 hell of unending slavery. 0, 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 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 steer in a northeast course 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 there without 
being disturbed. Let but the first opportunity offer, and 
come what will, I am off. Meanwhile I will try to bear 
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 yet, and all boys are bound out 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 half the mental expe- 
rience through which it was my lot to pass, during my 
stay at Covey's. I was completely wrecked, changed, and 
7 



154 I AM A SLAVE. 

'bewildered; goaded almost to madness at one time, and 
at another reconciling myself to my wretched condition. 
All the kindness I had received at Baltimore, all my for- 
mer hopes and aspirations for usefulness in the world, 
and even the happy moments spent in the exercises of 
religion, contrasted with my then present lot, served but 
to increase 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 over-work, and the brutal chastisements 
of which I was the victim, combined with that ever- 
gnawing and soul-devouring thought "lam 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. 

V 



CHAPTER XVI. 

ANOTHER PRESSURE OF THE TYRANT'S VISE. 

Experience at Covey's summed up First six months severer than the 
remaining six Preliminaries to the change Reasons for narrating 
the circumstances Scene in the treading-yard Author taken ill 
Escapes to St. Michaels The pursuit Suffering in the woods 
Talk with Master Thomas His beating Driven back to Covey's 
The slaves never sick Natural to expect them to feign sickness 
Laziness of slaveholders. 



reader has but to repeat, in his mind, once a 
I week the scene in the woods, where Covey subjected 
me to his merciless lash, to have a true idea of my bitter 
experience, during the first six months of the breaking 
process through which he carried me. I have no heart 
to repeat each separate transaction. 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 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 under- 
stand 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. 



156 TAKEN SICK. 

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 was called the "treadiiig-yard" a yard upon 
which wheat was 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 the 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 I 
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 it 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, with a feeling that the earth 
had fallen in upon me. This brought the entire work to 
a dead stand. There was work for four : each one had 



CRUEL TREATMENT. 157 

his part to perform, and each part depended on the other, 
so that when one stopped, all were compelled to stop. 
Covey, who had become my dread, 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 the stop- 
ping. Bill Smij:h 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 exceedingly 
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 what the matter was. 
I told him as well as I could, for it was with difficulty 
that I could speak. He gave me a savage kick in the 
side which jarred my whole frame, and commanded me 
to get up. The monster 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 endeav- 
ored to comply. I made an effort to rise, but fell back 
in the attempt before gaining my feet. He gave me 
another heavy kick, and again told me to rise. I again 
tried, and succeeded in standing up ; 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 through 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 edge of it he dealt me a heavy blow on my 



158 BLOOD-LETTING BENEFICIAL. 

Lead 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 now 
made up my mind that it was useless, and the heartless 
villain might 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, the wound was a fortu- 
nate one 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, left me to my 
fate, and the question was, shall I return to my work, or 
shall I find my way to St. Michaels 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 him, thinking that, if not ani- 
mated by motives of humanity, he might be induced to 
interfere on my behalf from selfish considerations. "He 
cannot," I thought, "allow his property to be thus bruised 
and battered, marred and defaced, and I will go to him 
about the matter." In order to get to St. Michaels by 
the most favorable and direct road I must walk seven 
miles, and this, in my sad condition, was no easy per- 
formance. I had already lost much blood, I was 
exhausted by over-exertion, my sides were sore from the 



ESCAPES. 159 

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. Michaels. 
This was a daring step. If it failed it would only exas- 
perate 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, when Covey observed me. I 
was still bleeding, and the exertion of running had started 
the blood afresh. " Come back ! Come back /" he vocifera- 
ted, with threats of what he would do if I did not return 
instantly. But disregarding his calls and threats, I 
pressed on toward the woods as fast as my feeble state 
would allow. Seeing no signs of my stopping he 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 detec- 
tion and pursuit. But I had not gone far before my 
little strength again failed me, and I was obliged to lie 
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, pur- 
sued by a wretch whose character for revolting cruelty 
beggars all opprobrious speech, bleeding and almost blood- 
less. I was not without the fear of bleeding to death. 
The thought of dying in the woods all alone, and of being 
torn in 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 



160 HIS SUFFERINGS. 

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. Michaels, more weary and 
sad than on the morning when I left Thomas Auld's for 
the home of Covey. I was bare-footed, bare-headed, and 
in my shirt-sleeves. The way was through briers and 
bogs, 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 appear- 
ance of wretchedness and woe calculated 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. Had I escaped from a den of 
tigers, I could not have looked worse. In this 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. During the 
latter part of my tedious journey I had begun to hope 
that my master would now show himself in a nobler light 
than I had before seen him. But I was disappointed. I 
had jumped from a sinking ship into the sea ; I had fled 
from a tiger to something worse. I told him all the cir- 
cumstances, as well as I could: how I was endeavoring 
to please Covey ; how hard I was at work in the present 
instance; how unwillingly I sank 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 hesi- 



HIS CHRISTIAN MASTER. 161 

tation 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. At first Master Thomas seemed somewhat affected 
by the story of my wrongs, but he soon repressed what- 
ever feeling he may have had, and became as cold and 
hard as iron. It was impossible, at first, as I stood before 
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 spectacle I presented ; but soon it was his 
turn to talk. He began moderately by finding excuses 
for Covey, and ended 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 arousing 
himself by his eloquence, he fiercely demanded what I 
wished him to do in the case ! With such a knock-down 
to all my hopes, and feeling as I did my entire subjection 
to his power, I had very little heart to reply. I must not 
assert my innocence of the allegations he had piled up 
against me, for that would be impudence. The guilt of 
a slave was always and everywhere presumed, and the 
innocence of the slaveholder, or employer, was always 
asserted. The word of the slave against this presumption 
was generally treated as impudence, worthy of punish- 
ment. " Do you dare to contradict me, you rascal ? " was 
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 a little touched at my forlorn and 
miserable appearance, he inquired again, what I wanted 



162 IS DRIVEN BACK. 

him to do? Thus invited a second time, I told him 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 again 
with Mr. Covey, I should be killed by him ; that he would 
never forgive my coming home with complaints; that 
since I had lived with him he had almost crushed my 
spirit, and I believed he would ruin me for future service, 
and that my life was not safe in his hands. This Master 
Thomas (my brother in the church) regarded as "non- 
sense." There was no danger that Mr. Covey would kill 
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 dis- 
tressing thought of all to him " if you should leave 
Covey now that your year is 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; and you must not trouble me with any more 
stories; and if you don't go immediately home, I'll 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 somewhat relented, and 
finally allowed me to stay the night, but said I must be 
off early in the morning, and concluded his directions by 
making me swallow a huge dose of Epsom salts, which 
was 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, ho 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 were not, under the whole heav- 
ens, a set of men who cultivated such a dread of labor as 



SLAVEHOLDERS LAZY. 163 

did the slaveholders. The charge of laziness against the 
slaves was ever on their lips, and was the standing 
apology for every species of cruelty and brutality. These 
men did indeed literally " bind heavy burdens, grievous 
to be borne, and laid them upon men's shoulders, but they 
themselves would not move them with one of their 
fingers." 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE LAST FLOGGING. 

A sleepless night Return to Covey's Punished by him The chase 
defeated Vengeance postponed Musings in the woods The al- 
ternative Deplorable spectacle Night in the woods Expected 
attack Accosted by Sandy A friend, not a master Sandy's hos- 
pitality The ash-cake supper Interview with Sandy His advice 
Sandy a conjuror as well as a Christian The magic root 
Strange meeting with Covey His manner Covey's Sunday face 
Author's defensive resolve The fight The victory, and its results. 

SLEEP does not always come to the relief of the weary 
in body, and broken in spirit ; especially is it so when 
past troubles only foreshadow coming disasters. My last 
hope had been extinguished. My master, who I did not 
venture to hope would protect me as a MAN, had now 
refused to protect me as his property, and had cast me 
back, covered with reproaches and bruises, into the hands 
of one who was a stranger to that mercy which is the 
soul of the religion he professed. May the reader never 
know what it is to spend such a night as was that to me, 
which heralded my return to the den of horrors from 
which I had made a temporary escape. 

I remained sleep I did not all night at St. Michaels, 
and in the morning (Saturday) I started off, obedient 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, true to his 
snakish habits, Covey darted out at me from a fence 
corner, in which he had secreted himself for the purpose 
of securing me. He was provided with a cowskin and a 

(164) 



IN THE WOODS. 165 

rope, and he evidently intended to tie me up, and 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, with the other trying circumstances, 
had greatly reduced my strength. I, however, darted 
back into the woods before the ferocious hound could* 
reach me, and buried myself in a thicket, where he lost 
sight of me. The cornfield afforded me shelter in get- 
ting to the woods. But for the tall corn, Covey would 
have overtaken me, and made me his captive. He was 
much chagrined that he did not, and gave up the chase 
very reluctantly, as I could see by his angry movements, 
as he returned to the house. 

Well, now I 'am clear of Covey and his lash for a little 
time. I am in the wood, buried in its somber gloom, 
and hushed in its solemn silence ; hidden from all human 
eyes, shut in with nature, and with 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 neglect of the means 
of grace, and partly from the sham religion which every- 
where prevailed, cast in my mind a doubt upon all relig- 
ion, and led me to the conviction that prayers were una- 
vailing and delusive. 

Life in itself had almost become burdensome to me. All 
my outward relations were against me ; I must stay here 
and starve, or go home to Covey's and have my flesh torn 
to pieces and my spirit humbled under the cruel lash of 
Covey. These were the alternatives before me. The 
day was long and irksome. I was weak from the toils of 
the previous day, and from want of food and sleep, and I 
had been so little concerned about my appearance that I 



166 HE HEARS A STEP. 

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, and still unre- 
solved 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 by them during the day, I 
expected no disturbance from them during the night. I 
had come to the conclusion that Covey relied upon hun- 
ger to drive me home, and in this I was quite correct, 
for he made no effort to catch me after the 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, 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. Michaels. He, like myself, had been 
hired out that year,, but unlike myself had not been hired 
out to be broken. He was the husband of a free woman 
who lived in the lower part of "Poppie 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 neighbor- 




FOUND IN THE Woons BY SANDY. 



HIS OLD FRIEND SANDY. 169 

hood 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 compassion- 
ated 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 bond- 
man from hunger and exposure, and therefore, on his 
own motion, 1 accompanied him home to his wife for 
the house and lot were hers, as she was a free woman. 
It was about midnight, but his wife was called up, 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 in that region who 
could read or write. There had been one other man, 
belonging to Mr. Hugh Hamilton, who could read, but he, 
poor fellow, had, shortly after coming into the neighbor- 
hood, been sold off to the far south. I saw him 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 since 
feasted 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 to my memory. 



170 A MAGIC BOOT. 

Supper over, Sandy and I went into a discussion of 
what was possible for me, under the perils and hardships 
which overshadowed my path. The question was, must 
I go back to Covey, or must I attempt to run away ? 
Upon a careful survey the latter was found to be impossi- 
ble ; for I was on a narrow neck of land, every avenue from 
which would bring me in sight of pursuers. There was 
Chesapeake Bay to the right, and "Pot-pie" river to the 
left, and St. Michaels and its neighborhood occupied the 
only space through which there was any retreat. 

I found Sandy an old adviser. 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 the 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 
words 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 slave- 
Holder since he carried it, and he never expected to 
receive one, for he meant always to carry that root for 
protection. He knew Covey well, for Mrs. Covey was 
the daughter of Mrs. Kemp ; and he (Sandy) had heard 
of the barbarous treatment to which I had been subjected, 
and lie 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 



HE RETURNS TO COVEY'S. . 171 

(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 con- 
fident of the good qualities of this weed that, to please 
him, 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 o 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 on me. At any rate, I started off 
toward Covey's, as directed. Having, the previous night, 
poured my griefs into Sancjy's ears and enlisted him 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 dreaded 
Covey's. Singularly enough, just as I entered the yard- 
gate I met him and his wife, dressed in their Sunday 
best, looking as smiling as angels, on their way to church. 



172 PIOUS COVEY. 

His manner perfectly astonished me. There was some- 
thing- 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 go to drive them out ; . inquired 
how I was. and seemed an altered man. This extraordi- 
nary conduct 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 power of the root. I suspected, however, that the 
Sabbath, not the root, was the real explanation of the 
change. His religion hindered him from breaking the 
Sabbath, but not from breaking my skin on any other day 
than Sunday. 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 on Sunday teach me the value of my soul, and 
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 tor- 
mentor had gone deeper into the black art than I had (as 
was sometimes said of him), or whether he had obtained 
a special indulgence for his faithful Sunday's worship, it 
is not necessary for me to know or to inform the reader ; 
but this much I may say, the pious and benignant smile 
which graced the face of Covey on Sunday wholly disap- 
peared on Monday. 

Long before daylight I was called up to go feed, rub, 
and curry the horses. I obeyed the call, as I should have 
done had it been made at an earlier hour, for I had 
brought my mind to a firm resolve during that Sunday's 
reflection 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 



A FIERCE BATTLE. 173 

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 indif- 
ference ha<J severed the last link. I had backslidden 
from this point in the slaves' religious creed, and I soon 
had occasion to make my fallen state known to my Sun- 
day-pious brother, Covey. 

While I was obeying his order to feed and get the 
horses ready for the field, and when I was in the act of 
going up the stable-loft, for the purpose of throwing down 
some blades, Covey sneaked into the stable, in his pecul- 
iar way, and seizing me suddenly by the leg, he brought 
me to the stable-floor, giving my newly-mended body a 
terrible jar. I now forgot all about my roots, and remem- 
bered my pledge to stand up in my own defense. The 
brute was skillfully endeavoring 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 days' 
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 actually was hard at it. The 
fighting madness had come upon me, and I found my 
strong fingers firmly attached to the throat of the tyrant, 
as heedless of consequences, at the moment, as if we stood 
as equals before the law. The very color of the man was 
forgotten. I felt supple as a cat, and was ready for him 
at every turn. Every blow of his was parried, though I 



174 TOO MUCH FOR COVEY. 

dealt no blows in return. 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, and 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 equal. 
Covey soon cried lustily for help ; not that I was obtain- 
ing 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 Hughes 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 Hughes, on whom, at his first approach, I dealt a 
blow which fairly sickened him. He went off, bending 
over with pain, and manifesting no disposition to come 
again within my reach. The poor fellow was in the act 
of trying to catch and tie my right hand, and while flat- 
tering 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 arid coolness. He was frightened, 
and stood puffing and blowing, seemingly unable to com- 



175 

mand words or blows. When he saw that Hughes was 
standing half bent with pain, his courage quite gone, the 
cowardly tyrant asked if I " meant to persist in my resist- 
ance." I told him I "did mean to resist, come what 
might; that I had been 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 over-clean 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 advantages of his 
own selection. 

By this time Bill, the hired man, came home. He had 
been to Mr. Helmsley's to spend Sunday with his nominal 
wife. Covey and I had been at skirmishing from before 
daybreak till now, and the sun was now shooting his 
beams almost 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 oft' to the woods, otherwise he would probably have 
obtained arms from the house to frighten me. Holding 
me, he called upon Bill to assist him. 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, Master 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, Master 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." 



176 HE APPEALS TO CAROLINE. 

It was my turn to speak. " Bill," said I, " don't put your 
hands on me." To which he replied : " My God, Freder- 
ick, I ain't goin' to tech ye " ; and Bill walked off, leaving 
Covey and myself to settle our differences 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 easily, exhausted as I was. 

As soon as she came near, Covey attempted to rally 
her to his aid. Strangely and 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," pre- 
cisely as Bill had done, but in her it was at far greater 
peril, for 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 Hams, 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 merci- 
less Covey, nor did she escape the dire effects of her 
refusal : he gave her several sharp blows. 

At length (two hours had elapsed) the contest was 
given over. Letting go of me, puffing and blowing at a 
great rate, Covey said : "Now, you scoundrel, go to your 
work ; I would not have whipped you half so hard if you 
had 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 
should even without this satisfaction have been victo- 
rious, because my aim had not been to injure him, but to 
prevent his injuring me. 

During the whole six months I lived with Covey after 
this transaction, lie never again laid the weight of his 



17T 

finger on mo 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 had better 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, j 
undignified as it was, and as I fear my narration of it is, I 
was the turning-point in my " life as a slave." It rekin- 
dled 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 ray crashed self-respect, and my self-con- 
fidence, and inspired me with a renewed determination to 
be a free man. A man without force is without the 
essential dignity of humanity. Human nature is so con- 
stituted, that it cannot honor a helpless man, though it 
can pity him, and even this it cannot do long if signs of 
power do not arise. 

He only can 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 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 independence. I had 
reached the point at which I was not afraid to die. This 
spirit made me a freeman in fact, though I still 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 



178 , A BOY OF SIXTEEN. 

earth." From this time until my escape from slavery, I 
was never fairly whipped. Several attempts were made, 
but they were always unsuccessful. Bruised I did get, 
but the instance I have described was the end of the bru- 
tification to which slavery had subjected me. 

The reader may like to know why, after I had so griev- 
ously offended Mr. Covey, he did not have me taken in 
hand by the authorities ; indeed, why the law of Mary- 
land, which assigned hanging to the slave who resisted 
his master, was not put in force against me, at any rate 
why I was not taken up, as was usual in such cases, and 
publicly whipped as an example to other slaves, and as a 
means of deterring me from committing the same offence 
again. I confess that the easy manner in which I got 
off was always a surprise to me, and even now I cannot 
fully explain the cause, though the probability is that 
Covey was ashamed to have it known that he had been 
mastered by a boy of sixteen. He enjoyed the unbounded 
and very valuable reputation of being a first-rate overseer 
and negro-breaker, and by means of this reputation he 
was able to procure his hands at very trifling compensa- 
tion and with very great ease. His interest and his 
pride would mutually suggest the wisdom of passing the 
matter by in silence. The story that he had undertaken 
to whip a lad and had been resisted, would of itself be 
damaging to him in the estimation of slaveholders. 

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 was deter- 
mined on doing him serious damage if he ever again 
attempted to lay violent hands on me. 

"Hereditniy 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 change Fame of the fight 
with Covey Reckless unconcern Author's abhorrence of slavery 
Ability to read a cause of prejudice The holidays How spent 
Sharp hit at slavery Effects of holidays Difference between Co- 
vey and Freeland An irreligious master preferred to a religious 
one Hard life at Covey's useful to the author Improved condition 
does not bring contentment Congenial society at Freeland's Au- 
thor's Sabbath-school Secrecy necessary Affectionate relations of 
tutor and pupils Confidence and friendship among slaves Slavery 
the inviter of vengeance. 

MY term of service with Edward Covey expired on 
Christmas day, 1834. I gladly-enough left him, 
although he was by this time as gentle as a lamb. My 
home for the year- 1835 was already secured, my next 
master selected. There was always more or less excite- 
ment about the changing of hands, but I had become 
somewhat reckless and cared little into whose hands I 
fell, determined to fight my way. The report got abroad 
that I was hard to whip, that I was guilty of kicking 
back, and though generally a good-natured negro, I some- 
times "got the devil in me." These sayings were rife in 
Talbot County, and they distinguished me among my ser- 
vile brethren. Slaves would sometimes fight with each 
other, and even die at each other's hands, but there were 
very few who were not held in awe by a white man. 
Trained from the cradle up to think and feel that their 
masters were superiors, and invested with a sort of 
sacredness, there were few who could rise above the con- 
trol which that sentiment exercised. I had freed myself 
8 (179) 



180 HOW HOLIDAYS WERE KEPT. 

from it, and the thing was known. One bad sheep will 
spoil a whole flock. 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 
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 were 
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. We regarded 
this time 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 expected to visit them 
and 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, 
industrious ones would employ themselves in manufac- 
turing 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, danc- 
ing, and drinking whisky; and this latter mode was 
generally most agreeable to their masters. A slave who 
would work during the holidays was thought by his mas- 
ter undeserving of holidays. 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. 



THE SLAVE'S FARE. 181 

The fiddling, dancing, and "jubilee beating" was car- 
ried on in all directions. This latter performance was 
strictly southern. It supplied the place of violin, or of 
other musical instruments, and was played so easily that 
almost every farm had its " Juba " beater. The. performer 
improvised as he beat the instrument, marking the words 
as he sang so 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 was given to the mean- 
ness of slaveholders. Take the following for example : 

We raise de wheat, We peel de meat, 

Dey gib us de corn : Dey gib us de skin; 

We bake de bread, And dat's de way 

Dey gib us de crust ; Dey take us in; 

We sif de meal, We skim de pot, 

Dey gib us de huss; Dey gib us de liquor, 

And say dat's good enough for nigger. 
Walkover! walkover! 
Your butter and de fat ; 
Poor nigger, you can't get over dat! 

Walk over- 
Tins 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 holidays. Judg- 
ing from my own observation and experience, I believe 
those holidays were among the most effective means in 
the hands of slaveholders of keeping down the spirit of I 
insurrection among the slaves. 

To enslave men successfully and safely it is necessary 
to keep their minds occupied with thoughts and aspira- 
tions short of the liberty of which tliey are deprived. A 
certain degree of attainable good must be kept before 
them. These holidays served the purpose of keeping the 
minds of the slaves occupied with prospective pleasure 
within the limits of slavery. The young man could go 



L 



182 GUARDING SLAVES. 

wooing, the married man to see his wife, the father and 
mother to see their children, the industrious and money- 
loving could make a few dollars, the great wrestler could 
win laurels, the young people meet and enjoy each other's 
society, the drinking man could get plenty of whisky, 
and the religious man could hold prayer-meetings, preach, 
pray, and exhort. Before the holidays there were pleas- 
ures in prospect; after the holidays they were pleas- 
ures of memory, and they served to keep out thoughts 
and wishes of a more dangerous character. These holi- 
days were also sort of 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 have become 
too severe for endurance, and the slave would have been 
forced up to dangerous desperation. 

Thus they became a part and parcel of the gross 
wrongs and inhumanity of slavery. Ostensibly they were 
institutions of benevolence designed to mitigate the rigors 
of slave-life, but practically they were a fraud instituted 
by human selfishness, the better to secure the ends of 
injustice and oppression. The slave's happiness was not 
the end sought, but the master's safety. It was not from 
a generous unconcern for the slave's labor, but from a 
prudent regard for the slave system. I am strengthened 
in this opinion from the fact that most slaveholders liked 
to have their slaves spend the holidays in such manner 
as to be of no. real benefit to them. Everything like 
rational e'njoyment was frowned upon, and only those 
wild and low sports peculiar to semi-civilized people were 
encouraged. The license allowed appeared to have no 
other object than to disgust the slaves with their tempo- 
rary freedom, and to make them as glad to return to their 
work as they were to leave it. I have known slaveholders 
resort to cunning tricks, with a view of getting their 



WILLIAM FREELAXD. 183 

slaves deplorably drunk. The usual plan was to make 
bets on a slave that he could drink more whisky than 
any other, and so 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 disgust- 
ing. Thus, when the slave asked for hours of " virtuous 
liberty," his cunning master took advantage of his igno- 
rance and cheered him with a dose of vicious and revolt- 
ing 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 had artfully de- 
ceived 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 would 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 whisky and rum. When the slave was drunld 
the slaveholder had no fear that he would plan an insur-i 
rection, no fear that he would escape to the North. It 
was the sober, thoughtful slave who was dangerous,- and 
needed the vigilance of his master to keep him a slave. 
But to proceed with my narrative. 

On the first of January, 1835, 1 proceeded from St. 
Michaels to Mr. William Freeland's my new home. Mr. 
Freeland lived only three miles from St. Michaels, on an 
old, worn-out farm, which required much labor to render 
it anything like a self-supporting establishment. 

I found Mr. Freeland a different man from Covey. 
Though not rich, he was what might have been called a 
well-bred Southern gentleman. Though a slaveholder, 
and sharing in common with them many of the vices of 



184 RIVALRY AMONG SLAVES. 

his class, he seemed alive to the sentiment of honor, and 
had also some sense of justice, and some -feelings of hu- 
manity. He was fretful, impulsive, and passionate, but 
free from the mean and selfish characteristics which dis- 
tinguished the creature from which I had happily escaped. 
Mr. Freeland was open, frank, imperative, and practiced 
no concealments, and disdained to play the spy ; in all 
these qualities the opposite of Covey. 

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 " 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 was much 
rivalry among slaves at times as to which could do the 
most work, and masters generally sought 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 measur- 
ing 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 exer- 
tion a large quantity of work was done in one day, and it 
became known to the master, it might lead him to 
require the same amount every day. This thought was 
enough to bring us to a dead halt when ever so much 
excited for the race. 

At Mr. Freeland's my condition was every way im- 
proved. I was no longer the scapegoat that I was when 
at Covey's, where every wrong thing done was saddled 
upon me, and where other slaves were whipped over my 



RESTLESS AND DISCONTENTED. 185 

shoulders. Bill Smith was protected by a positive pro- 
hibition, made by his rich master (and the command of 
the rich slaveholder was law to the poor one). Hughes 
was favored by his relationship to Covey, and the hands 
hired temporarily escaped flogging. I was the general 
pack-horse ; but Mr. Freeland held every man individ- 
ually responsible for his own conduct. 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. We were seldom in the field after dark in the even- 
ing, 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. 

Notwithstanding all the improvement in my relations, 
notwithstanding 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 a slave. The freedom from bodily tor- 
ture and unceasing labor had given my mind an increased 
sensibility, and imparted to it greater activity. I was 
not yet exactly in right relations. "Howbeit, 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 well-being was the grand desideratum ; but, tem- 
poral 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, surroundj 
him with physical comfort, and dreams of f reedoraj 
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, 



186 AT HIS OLD TRICKS. 

that he loses all just ideas of his natural position, but 
elevate him a little, and the clear conception of rights 
rises 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 Balti- 
more, began to visit me again ; shoots from the tree of 
liberty began to put forth buds, and dim hopes of the 
future began to dawn. 

I found myself in congenial society. There were Henry 
Harris, John Harris, Handy Caldwell, arid Sandy Jen- 
kins (this last, of the root-preventive memory). 

Henry and John Harris 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 here before I was up to 
my old tricks. I 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. Web- 
ster'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, where to exercise 
my gifts, and to impart the little knowledge 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 idea to learn. Two such boys were 
quickly found in Henry and John, and from them the 
contagion spread. I was not long in 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 



CLASS LEADERS. 187 

they provided themselves with spelling-books. These 
were mostly the cast-off books of their y^ung 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. Michaela_ 
attempt was still fresh in the minds of all. Our pious 
masters at St. Michaels 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 the sinners of St. j 
Michaels. But to meet for the purpose of improving the 
mind and heart, by learning to read the sacred scriptures, 
was a nuisance to be instantly stopped. The slave- 
holders there, like slaveholders elsewhere, preferred to 
see the slaves engaged in degrading sports, rather than 
acting like moral and accountable beings. Had any one 
asked a religious white man in St. Michaels, at that time, 
the names of three men in that town whose lives were 
most after the pattern of our Lord and Master Jesus 
Christ, the reply would have been : Garrison West, class- 
leader, Wright Fairbanks and Thomas Auld, both also 
class-leaders ; and yet these men ferociously rushed in 
upon my Sabbath-school, armed with mob-like missiles, 
and forbade our meeting again 011 pain gf having our 
backs subjected to the bloody lash. This same Garrison 
West was my class-leader, and I had thought him a Chris- 
tian 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 always, the 
tyrant's plea of necessity. If the slaves learned to read 
they would learn something more and something worse. 
The peace of slavery would be disturbed; slave rule 
would be endangered. I do not dispute the soundness 



188 EXCEPTIONS TO GENERAL RULES. 

of the reasoning. If slavery were right, Sabbath-schools 
for teaching slapres to read were wrong, and ought to 
have been put down. These Christian class-leaders 
were, to this extent, consistent. They had settled the 
question that slavery was right, and by that standard 
they determined that Sabbath-schools were 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 such ruling ! But my dear class-lead- 
ing Methodist brethren did not condescend to give me a 
reason for breaking up the school at St. Michaels ; they 
had determined its destruction, and that was enough. 
However, I am digressing. 

After getting the school nicely started a 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 incurred much 
peril in doing so, for the assemblage was an unlawful 
one. 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 had various employments during my 
life, but I look back to none with more satisfaction. An 
attachment, deep and permanent, sprung up between me 
and my persecuted pupils, which made my parting from 
them intensely painful. 

Besides my Sunday-school, I devoted three evenings a 
week to my other fellow slaves during the winter. Those 
dear souls who came to my Sabbath-school came not 
because it was popular or reputable to do so, for they 
came with a liability of having forty stripes laid on their 
naked backs. In this Christian country men and women 
were obliged to hide in barns and woods and trees 



A BAND OF BROTHERS. 189 

from professing Christians, in order to learn to read the 
Holy Bible. 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 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 ev6r had until I became my own master and 
assumed for myself, as I had a right to do, the responsi- 
bility 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, 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 any to have truer and better 
friends than were the slaves on this farm. It was not 
uncommon to charge slaves with great treachery toward 
each other, but I must say I never loved, esteemed, or 
confided in men more than I did in these. They were as 
true as t steel, and no band of brothers could be more 
loving. There were no mean advantages taken of each 
other, no tattling, no giving each other bad names to Mr. 
Freeland, and no elevating one at the expense of the 
other. "We never undertook anything of any importance 
which was likely to affect each other, without mutual con- 
sultation. We were generally a unit, and moved together. 
Thoughts and sentiments were exchanged between us 
which might well have been considered incendiary had 
they been known by our masters. The slaveholder, were 



190 SLAVEHOLDERS' POSITION. 

he kind or cruel, was a slaveholder still, the every-hour 
violator of the just and inalienable rights of man, and 
he was therefore every hour silently but surely whetting 
the knife of vengeance for his own throat. He never 
lisped a syllable in commendation of the fathers of this 
republic without inviting the sword, and asserting the 
right of rebellion for his own slaves. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE RUNAWAY PLOT. 

New Year's thoughts and meditations Again hired by Freeland 
Kindness no compensation for slavery Incipient steps toward 
escape Considerations leading thereto Hostility to slavery 
Solemn vow taken Plan divulged to slaves Columbian Orator 
again Scheme gains favor Danger of discovery Skill of slave- 
holders Suspicion and coercion Hymns with double meaning 
Consultation Pass-word Hope and fear Ignorance of geography 
Imaginary difficulties Patrick Henry Sandy a dreamer Route 
to the north mapped out Objections Frauds Passes Anxieties 
Fear of failure Strange presentiment Coincidence Betrayal 
Arrests Resistance Mrs. Freeland Prison Brutal jests Passes 
eaten Denial Sand)' Dragged behind horses Slave-traders 
Alone in prison Sent to Baltimore. 

I AM now at the beginning of the year 1836, when 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 a new 
year, surveying the errors of the past, and providing 
against the possible errors of the future. I, too, was 
thus exercised. I had little pleasure in retrospect, and 
the future prospect was not brilliant. " Notwithstand- 
ing," 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 a 
miserable bondage. 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 com- 
munity I am his slave a slave for life." With thoughts 

(191) 



192 REFLECTIONS ON HIS SITUATION. 

like these I was chafed and perplexed, and they rendered 
me gloomy and disconsolate. The anguish of my mind 
cannot be written. 

At the close of the year, Mr. Freeland renewed the 
purchase of my services of Mr. Auld for the coming year. 
His promptness in doing so 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 
him to be as well pleased with me as a slave as I with 
him as a master. But the kindness of the slave-master 
only gilded the chain, it detracted nothing from its weight 
or strength. The thought that men are made for other 
and better uses than slavery, throve best under the gentle 
treatment of a kind master. Its grim visage could assume 
no smiles able to fascinate the partially enlightened slave 
into a forgetfulness of his bondage, or of the desirable- 
ness of liberty. 

I was not through the first month of my second year 
with the kind and gentlemanly Mr. Freeland before I was 
earnestly considering and devising plans for gaining that 
freedom which, when I was but a mere child, I had ascer- 
tained to be the natural and inborn right of every meni' 
ber of the human family. The desire for Ahis freedom 
had been benumbed while I was under the brutalizing 
dominion of Covey, and it had been postponed and ren- 
dered inoperative by my truly pleasant Sunday-school 
engagements with . my friends during the year at Mr. 
Freeland's. It had, however, never entirely subsided. 1 
hated slavery always, and my desire for freedom needed 
only a favorable breeze to fan it to a blaze at any moment. 
The thought of being only a creature of the present and 
the past troubled me, and I longed to have future a 
future witli hope in it. To be shut up entirely to the past 
and present is to the soul whose life and happiness is 



DETERMINED TO ACT. 193 

unceasing progress what the prison is to the body a 
blight and a 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 became not only ashamed to 
be contented in slavery, but ashamed to seem to be con- 
tented, and in my present favorable condition under the 
mild rule of Mr. Freeland, I am not sure that some kind 
reader will not condemn me for being over-ambitious, and 
greatly wanting in 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 intensity of my 
desire to be free, quickened by my present favorable cir- 
cumslances, brought me to the determination to act as 
well as to think and speak. 

Accordingly, at the beginning of this year 1836, 1 took 
upon me a solemn vow, that the year which had just 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 good my own individual 
escape, buj^my friendship for my brother-slaves was so 
affectionate and confiding that I felt it my duty, as well 
as my pleasure, to give them an opportunity to share in 
my determination. 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, there- 
fore, with suitable caution, I began to disclose my senti- 
ments and plans, sounding them the while on the subject 
of running away, provided a good chance should offer. 
I need not say that I did my very, lest 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 



194 TOO BIG FOR HIS CHAINS. 

communications with my friends. That gem of a book, 
the Columbian Orator, with its eloquent orations and 
spicy dialogues denouncing oppression and slavery tell- 
ing 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. 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. 
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 else is clear." 

We were all, except Sandy, quite clear from slave- 
holding priestcraft. It was in vain that we had been 
taught from the pulpit at St. Michaels the duty of obe- 
dience to our masters ; to recognize God as the author 
of our enslavement ; to regard running away as an offense, 
alike against God and man ; to deem our enslavement a 
merciful and beneficial arrangement ; to est^m our con- 
dition 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 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 to us. I say it was in vain that 
the pulpit of St. Michaels had constantly inculcated these 
plausible doctrines. Nature laughed them to scorn. 
For my part, I had become altogether too big for my 
chains. Father Lawson's solemn words of what I ought 
to be, and what I might be in the providence of God, had 
not fallen dead on my soul. I was fast verging toward 



SLAVEHOLDERS ON THE LOOKOUT. 195 

manhood, and the prophesies of my childhood were still 
unfulfilled. The thought that year after year had passed 
away, and my best resolutions to run away had failed 
and faded, that I was still a slave, with chances for gain- 
ing my freedom diminished and still diminishing was not 
a matter to be slept over easily. But here came a trouble. 
Such thoughts and purposes as I now cherished could not 
agitate the mind long without making themselves mani- 
fest to scrutinizing and unfriendly observers. 1 had rea- 
son to fear that my sable face might prove altogether too 
transparent for the safe concealment of my hazardous 
enterprise. Plans of great 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 immovable countenance of 
an Indian, for it was far from proof against the daily 
searching glances of those whom I met. 

It was the interest and business of slaveholders to study 
human nature, and the slave nature in particular, with a 
view to practical results ; and many of them attained 
astonishing proficiency in this direction. They had to 
deal not with earth, wood, and stone, but with men ; and 
by every regard they had for their safety and prosperity 
they had need to know the material on which they were 
to work. So much intellect as the slaveholder had round 
him required watching. Their safety depended on their 
vigilance. Conscious of the injustice and wrong they 
were every hour perpetrating, and knowing what they 
themselves would do if they were victims of such wrongs, 
they were constantly looking out for the first signs of the 
dread retribution. They watched, therefore, with skilled 
and practiced eyes, and learned to read, with great accu- 
racy, the state of mind and heart of the slave through his 
sable face. Unusual sobriety, apparent abstraction, sul- 
lenuess, and indifference, indeed, any mood out of the 



196 WHIPPING THE DEVIL OUT OF HIM. 

common way, afforded ground for suspicion and inquiry. 
Relying on their superior position and wisdom, they 
would often hector the slave into a confession by affect- 
ing to know the truth of their accusations. "You have 
got the devil in you, and we'll whip him out of you," they 
would say. I have often been put thus to the torture on 
bare suspicion. This system had its disadvantages as 
well as its opposite the slave being sometimes whipped 
into the confession of offenses which he never committed. 
It will be seen that the good old rule, "A man is to be 
held innocent until proved to be guilty," did not hold 
good on the slave plantation. Suspicion and torture were 
the approved methods of getting at the truth there. It 
was necessary, therefore, for me 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 our selveseverything con- 
nected with our contemplated escape appeared concealed, 
Mr. Freeland may, with the peculiar prescience of a slave- 
holder, have mastered the huge thought which was dis- 
turbing our peace. As I now look back, I am the more 
inclined to think he suspected us, because, prudent as we 
were, I can see that we did many silly things well cal- 
culated to awaken suspicion. We were at times remark- 
ably buoyant, singing hymns, and making joyous excla- 
mations, almost as triumphant in their tone as if we had 
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," 



I AM THE MAN. 197 

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 stay 

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. On the 
lips of some it meant the expectation of a speedy sum- 
mons to a world of spirits ; but on the lips of our com- 
pany it simply meant a speedy pilgrimage to a free State, 
and deliverance from all the evils and dangers of slavery. 
I had succeeded in winning to my 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 apiece, and perhaps 
more. Their names were as follows : Henry Harris, 
John Harris, Sandy Jenkins, 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 a great influence 
over them. Perhaps not one of them, left to himself, 
would have dreamed of escape as a possible thing. 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 were all 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 neighbor- 
hood of St. Michaels, I AM THE MAN. I claim to be the 
instigator of the high crime (as the slaveholders 
regarded it), and I kept life in it till life could be kept in 
it no longer. 



198 DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY. 

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 the revolutionary conspirators in their 
primary condition. We were plotting against our (so- 
called) lawful rulers, with this difference 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 gladly 
have remained with him as free men. Liberty was our 
aim, and we had now come to think that we had a right 
to it 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 have conveyed no certain 
meaning. I hated this secrecy, but where slavery was 
powerful, and liberty weak, the latter was driven to con- 
cealment or destruction. 

The prospect was not always bright. At times we 
were almost tempted to abandon the enterprise, and to 
try 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. We were confident, bold, and deter- 
mined, at times, and again doubting, timid, and wavering, 
whistling, like the boy in the grave-yard, to keep away 
the spirits. 

To look at the map and observe the proximity of East- 
ern shore, Maryland, to Delaware and Pennsylvania, it 
may seem to the reader quite absurd to regard the pro- 
posed escape as a formidable undertaking. But to under- 



STUDYING GEOGRAPHY. 199 

stand, some one has said, a man must stand under. The 
real distance was great enough, but the imagined distance 
was, to our ignorance, much greater. Slaveholders 
sought to impress their slaves with a belief in the bound- 
lessness of slave territory, and of their own limitless 
power. Our notions of the geography of the country 
were very vague and indistinct. The distance, however, 
was not the chief trouble, for the nearer the lines of a 
slave state to the borders of a free state the greater was 
the trouble. Hired kidnappers infested the 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 knew of no spot this side the ocean where 
we could be safe. We had heard of Canada, then the 
only real Canaan of the American bondman, 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 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 utterly ignorant of 
the free States. New York City was our northern limit, 
and to go there and to be forever harassed with the lia- 
bility of being hunted down and returned to slavery, with 
the certainty of being treated ten times worse than ever 
before, was a prospect which might well cause some hesi- 
tation. 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 stood slavery, a stern reality glaring frightfully 



200 FEARS AND WAVERINGS. 

upon us, with the blood of millions in its polluted skirts, 
terrible to behold, greedily devouring our hard earnings 
and feeding it upon our flesh. This 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 cf the north star, behind some 
craggy hill or snow-capped 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 sur- 
vey 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 which 
would 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 star- 
vation, causing us, in a strange and friendless land, to 
eat our own flesh. Now we were contending with the 
waves 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, 
overtaken by hired kidnappers, who, in the name of law 
and for the thrice-cursed 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 unfrequeiitly caused 
us to 

" Rather bear the ills we had, 
Than flee to others which we knew not of." 



LIBERTY OB DEATH. 201 

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, but no man can tell the intense agony which 
was 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 which was thrilled 
by his magic eloquence and ready 4o 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 both to the pauper and to 
the prince, to the slave and to his master ; and yet I 
Tyolieve 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 distressing 
dreams. One W these, which happened on a Friday 
flight, was to him\of great significance, and I am quite 
ready to confess that I felt somewhat damped by it my- 
self. He said : " I dreamed last night that I was roused 
from sleep by strange noises, like the noises of a swarm 
of angry birds that caused a roar as they passed, and 
which fell upon my ear like a coming gale over the tops 
of the trees. Looking up to see what it could mean I 
saw you, Frederick, in the claws of a huge bird, surrounded 



202 SANDY'S DREAM. 

by a large number of birds of all colors and sizes. These 
were all pecking at you, while you, with your arms, seemed 
to be trying to protect your eyes. Passing over ine, the 
birds flew in a southwesterly 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 ; dere is sumpon in it shose you 
born ; dere is indeed, honey." I did not like the dream, 
but I showed no concern, attributing it to the general 
excitement and perturbation consequent upon our con- 
templated plan to escape. I could not, however, shake 
off its effect at once. I felt that it boded no good. 
Sandy was unusually emphatic and oracular, and his 
manner had much to do with the impression made upon 
me. 

The plan which I recommended, and to which my com- 
rades consented, for our escape, was to take a large canoe 
owned by Mr. Hamilton, and on the Saturday night pre- 
vious to the Easter holidays launch out into the Chesa- 
peake bay and paddle for its head, a distance of seventy 
miles, with all our might. On reaching this point we 
were to turn the canoe adrift and bend our steps to war j 
the north-star till we reached a free state. 

There were several objections to this plan. In'' rough 
weather the waters of the Chesapeake are muc'h agitated, 
and there would be danger, in a canoe, of lacing swamped 
by the waves. Another objection was. that the canoe 
would soon be missed, the absent slaves would at once be 
suspected of having taken it, and w e should be pursued 
by some of the fast-sailing craft out of St. Michaels. 
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 hunters after us. 

These and other objections were set aside by the stronger 
ones, which could be urged against every other plan that 






GIVES THEM A PASS. 203 

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 disa- 
greeable questions, which might give us serious trouble. 
Any white man, if he pleased, was authorized to stop a 
man of color on any road, and examine and arrest him. 
By this arrangement many abuses (considered such even 
by slaveholders) occurred. Cases have been known 
where freemen, being 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 
the 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 Balti- 
more 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 Balti- 
more to spend the Easter holidays. w. H. 

NEAR ST. MICHAELS, Talbot Co., Md." 

Although we were not going to Baltimore, and were 
intending to land east of North Point, in the direction I 
had seen the Philadelphia steamers go, these passes might 
be useful to us in the lower part of the bay, while steering* 
towards 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 than once rehearsed to each 
other how we should behave in the hour of trial. 

Those were long, tedious days and nights. The sus- 
pense was painful in the extreme. To balance probabili- 
9 



204 ANXIOUS DAYS. 

ties, 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 move- 
ment. 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 indiffer- 
ence to me. Our food was prepared, our clothes were 
packed ; we were already to go, and impatient for Satur- 
day morning considering that the last of our bondage. 

I cannot describe the tempest and tumult of my brain 
that morning. The reader will please bear in mind that 
in a slave State an unsuccessful runaway was not only 
subjected to cruel torture, and sold away to the far South, 
but he was frequently execrated by the other slaves. He 
was 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 was difficult, too, 
for a slave-master to believe that slaves escaping had not 
been aided in their flight by some one of their fellow- 
slaves. When, therefore, a slave was missing, every slave 
on the place was closely examined as to his knowledge of 
the undertaking. 

Our anxiety grew more and more intense, as the time 
of our intended departure 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 had not yet 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 there should be ; therefore, during the intcrvcn- 



MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH. 205 

ing time, I lost no opportunity to explain away difficulties, 
remove doubts, dispel fears, and inspire all with firmness. 
It was too late to look back, and now was the time to go 
forward. I appealed to the pride of my comrades by tell- 
ing 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 well sit down, fold their arms, and acknowledge 
themselves fit only to be slaves. This detestable charac- 
ter 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 coun- 
try. This meeting was in the middle of the week, at the 
end of which we were to start. 

Early on the appointed 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 Jen- 
kins, who was near me, and said : " Sandy, we are 
betrayed ! something has just told me so." I felt as sure 
of it as if the officers were 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 mo- 
ment 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 break- 



206 THREE CONSTABLES APPEAR. 

fast. 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 
misgiving whatever, but from a sense of the consequences 
of failure. 

In thirty minutes after that vivid impression came the 
apprehended crash. On reaching the house, and glancing 
my eye toward the lane gate, the worst was at once made 
known. The lane gate to Mr. Freeland's house was 
nearly half a mile from the door, and much shaded by 
the heavy wood which bordered the main road. I was, how- 
ever, 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 indeed all over with us ; we are surely betrayed" I 
thought to myself. I became composed, or at least com- 
paratively so, and calmly awaited the result. I watched 
the ill-omened company entering 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 
altogether without a slight hope that things might turn 
differently from what I had at first feared. 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 lan- 
guage 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 



A BKAYE FELLOW. 207 

rode toward the barn, with unwonted speed. 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 horse-back, 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 stand- 
ing 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 Har- 
ris ; Henry and Sandy were yet in the barn. Mr. Free- 
land came inside the kitchen-door, and, with an agitated 
voice, called me by name, and told me to come forward; 
that there were 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 would have* me brought before my master at St. 
Michaels, and if the evidence against me was not 
proved 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 teeth. 
When they had secured me, they turned to John Harris, 
and in a few moments succeeded in tying him as firmly 
as they had tied me. They next turned toward Henry 
Harris, who had now returned from the barn. "Cross 
your hands," said the constable 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 



208 HENRY'S RESISTANCE. 

constable. "No, / 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, pre- 
sented their deadly weapons to the breast of the unarmed 
slave, saying, if he did not cross his hands, they would 

"blow his d- d heart out of him." "Shoot me, shoot 

me" said Henry ; "you can't kill me but once. Shoot, 
shoot, and be damned ! 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 all directions. Now 
came the struggle. All hands rushed upon the brave 
fellow, and after beating him for some time they suc- 
ceeded 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 saw much use of 
fighting where there was no reasonable probability of 
whipping anybody. Yet there was something almost 
providential in the resistance made by 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 evidence against us, 
jmd would have confirmed all the statements of our 
betrayer. Thanks to the resistance of Henry, the excite- 




LJRIVEX TO JAIL FOR KUN> T IN T G AWAY. 



DRAGGED TO PRISON. 211 

ment produced by the scuffle drew all attention in that 
direction, and I succeeded in flinging my pass, unob- 
served, into the fire. The confusion attendant on the 
scuffle, and the apprehension of still further trouble, per- 
haps, led our captors to forego, for the time, any search 
for "those protections which Frederick was said to have 
written for his companions " ; so we were not yet con- 
victed 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 purpose. 

Just as we were all completely tied, and about ready to 
start toward St. Michaels, and thence to jail, Mrs. Betsey 
Freeland (mother to William, who was much attached, 
after the Southern fashion, to Henry and John, they hav- 
ing been reared from childhood in her house) came to 
the kitchen-door with her hands full of biscuits, for we 
had not had our breakfast that morning, and divided 
them between Henry and John. This done, the lady 
made the following parting address to me, pointing her 
bony finger at me : "You devil ! you yellow devil ! It 
was you who put it into the heads of Henry and John to 
run away. But 'for you, you long-legged f, yellow devil, 
Henry and John would never have thought of running 
away." I gave the lady a look which called forth from 
her 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 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 slav- 
ery^ 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 with pistols and daggers, on their way 



212 MORAL VULTURES. 

to prison like felons, and suffering every possible insult 
from the crowds of idle, vulgar people who clustered 
round, and heartlessly made their failure to escape 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 held in their sharp talons, 
and was being 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 that everybody was out, and knew the 
cause of our arrest, and awaited our passing in order to 
feast their vindictive eyes on our misery. 

Some said "I ought to be hanged," and others, "Z ought 
to be burned " ; others, I ought to have the "hide" taken 
off my back ; while no one gave us a kind word or sympa- 
thizing 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 one blow. 
The cruel injustice, the victorious crime, and the help- 
lessness of innocence, led me to ask in my ignorance and 
weakness : Where is now 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 the 1 oppressor will come at last." Of one 
thing I could be glad : not one of my dear friends upon 
whom 1 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 



WHO BETRAYED THEM? 213 

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. Michaels. The direction concerning the passes was 
passed around, and executed. "Own nothing," said I. 
"Own nothing" was passed round, 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. Michaels we underwent a sort of exam- 
ination 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 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, the thing is 
done ! but 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 who had 
betrayed us, that we might have something tangible on 
which to pour our execrations. From something which 



214 PUT IN JAIL. 

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 full of insult and mor- 
tification. Such is the power of public opinion, that it is 
hard, even for the innocent, to feel the happy consolation 
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 Bailey and 
Charles Roberts in another by themselves. This sepa- 
ration 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 
and agents of slave-traders who gathered in every 
country town of the State watching for chances to buy 
human flesh (as buzzards watch for carrion), flocked in 
upon us to ascertain if our masters had placed us in jail 



BUZZARDS ABOUT. 215 

to be sold. Such a set of debased and villainous creatures 
I never saw before and hope never to see again. I felt 
as if surrounded by a pack of fiends fresh from perdition. 
They laughed, leered, and grinned at us, saying, " Ah, 
boys, we have got you, haven't we ? So you were going to 
make your escape? Where were you going to?" After 
taunting us in this way as long as they liked, they one by 
one subjected us to an examination, with a view to ascer- 
tain 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 quite dumb 
(much to their annoyance). One fellow told me, "if he 
had me he would cut the devil out of me pretty quick." 

These negro-buyers were very offensive to the genteel 
southern Christian public. They were looked upon in 
respectable Maryland society as necessary but detesta- 
ble characters. Asa class, they were hardened ruffians, 
made such by nature and by occupation. Yes, they were 
the legitimate fruit of slavery, and were second in vil- 
lainy only to the slaveholders themselves who made such 
a class possible. They were mere hucksters of the slave 
produce of Maryland and Virginia coarse, cruel, and 
swaggering bullies, whose very breathing was of blas- 
phemy and blood. 

Aside from these slave-buyers who infested the prison 
from time to time, our quarters were much more com- 
fortable than we had any right to expect them to 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 were put into that Easton 
jail. But the place was not one of contentment. Bolts, 



216 LEFT ALONE IN PRISON. 

bars, and grated windows are not acceptable to freedom- 
loving people of any color. The suspense, too, was pain- 
ful. 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 of 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 flit- 
ting 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 " Georgia traders," 
nor to send us up to Austin Woldfolk, as was usual in the 
case of runaway-slaves, but to release Charles, Henry 
Harris, Henry Bailey, and John Harris from prison, and 
this, too, without the infliction of a single blow. I was 
left 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 prefer- 
ence to this separation from these, the friends of my 
youth. And yet I could not but feel that I was the vic- 
tim 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 
released 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 was almost as 
reluctant to leave the prison with me in it as lie had been 
to be tied and dragged to prison. But he and we all 
knew that we should, in all the likelihoods of the case, be 
separated, in the event of being sold ; and since we were 



HOPES AND EXPECTATIONS BLASTED. 217 

completely in the hands of our owners they concluded it 
would be best to go peaceably home. 

Xot 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 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 was 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 ply me 
with questions and 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 or mercy would have been as 
absurd as to reason with bears and tigers. Lead and 
steel were the only arguments that they were capable of 
appreciating, as the events of the subsequent years have 
proved. 

After remaining in this life of misery and despair 
about a week, Which 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 his friend would emancipate me. Besides, I 
had never heard of his having a friend in Alabama, and 



218 RELEASED AND SENT TO BALTIMORE. 

I took the announcement simply as an easy and comforta- 
ble 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 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 religious reputation, however unconcerned he might 
have been about his real Christian character. In these 
remarks it is possible I do him injustice. He certainly 
did not exert his power over me as he might have done 
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. Michaels a few days, and no 
friend from Alabama appearing, 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 he 
wished me to go to Baltimore and learn a trade ; and 
that if I behaved myself properly he would emancipate 
me at twenty-jive. 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 in my attempt to ran away Comrades at home Rea- 
sons for sending me away Return to Baltimore Tommy changed 
Caulking in Gardiner's ship-yard Desperate fight Its causes 
Conflict between white and black labor Outrage Testimony 
Master Hugh Slavery in Baltimore My condition improves 
New associations Slaveholder's right to the slave's wages How 
to make a discontented slave. 

WELL, dear reader, I am not, as you have probably 
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, 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's well that ends well ! " 
My affectionate friends, Henry and John Harris, are still 
with Mr. Freeland. Charles Roberts and Henry Bailey 
are safe at their homes. I have not, therefore, anything 
to regret on their account. Their masters have merci- 
fully forgiven them, probably on the ground suggested in 
the spirited little speech of Mrs. Freeland, made to me 
just before leaving for the jail. My friends had nothing 
to regret, either: for while they were watched more 
closely, they were doubtless treated more kindly than 
before, and got new assurances that they should some day 
be legally emancipated, provided their behavior from that 
time forward should make them deserving. Not a blow 

(219) 



220 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 

was struck any one of them. As for Master Freeland, 
good soul, he did not believe we were intending to run 
aAvay 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. He would not have one so dangerous as 
" Frederick " tampering with his slaves. William Hamil- 
ton was not a man whose threat might be safely disre- 
garded. . I have no doubt he would have proved as good 
as his word, had the warning given been disregarded. 
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 marvel* 
ously 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 leading to the destruction of slavery, which had 
hitherto been looked upon as a wall of security by the 
slaveholders. But Master Billy could not get Mr. Free- 
land to see matters precisely as he did, nor could he get 
Master Thomas, excited as he was. The latter, I must 
say it to his credit, showed much humane feeling, and 
atoned for much that had been harsh, cruel, and unrea- 
sonable in his former treatment of me and of others. 
My " Cousin Tom " told me that while I was in jail 
Master Thomas was very unhappy, and that the night 



THOMAS AULD, JUNIOR. 221 

before his going up to release me he had walked the floor 
nearly all night, evincing great distress ; that very tempt- 
ing 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. I can easily believe 
all this, 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 neighbor- 
hood, 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 the Eastern 
Shore just three years before. The loving relations 
jDetween Master Tommy and myself 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 had considered me scarcely inferior to 
himself, certainly quite as good as any other boy with 
whom he played ; but the time had come when his friend 
must be his slave. So we were cold to each other, and 
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, 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 induced 
his mother to say, " Oh, Tommy is always safe when he 



222 SHIP BUILDING. 

is with Freddy " I must be confined to a single condi- 
tion. He had grown and become a man : I, though grown 
to the stature of manhood, must all my life remain a 
minor a mere boy. Thomas Auld, junior, obtained a 
situation on board the brig Tweed, and went to sea. I 
have since heard of his death. 

There were few persons to whom I was more sincerely 
attached than to him. 

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 there to learn to calk, a trade of which I 
already had some knowledge, gained while in Mr. Hugh 
Auld's ship-yard. Gardiner's, however, proved a very 
unfavorable place for the accomplishment of the desired 
object. Mr. Gardiner was that season engaged in build- 
ing 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. Gardiner 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, seventy or eighty were regular carpenters 
privileged men. There was no time for a raw hand to 
learn anything. Every man had to do that which he 
knew how to do, and in entering the yard Mr. Gardiner 
had directed me to do whatever the carpenters'told me to 
do. This was placing me at the beck and call of about 
seventy-five men. I was to regard all these as my mas- 
ters. Their word was to be my law. My situation was 
a trying one. I was called a dozen ways in the space of 
a single minute. I needed a dozen pairs of hands. 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 



CONFLICT OF SLAVERY AND WHITE LABOR. 223 

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," " Halloo, Fred ! run and bring me 
a cold-chisel," " I say, Fred, bear a hand, and get up a 
fire under trie steam-box as quick as lightning," " Hullo, 
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, my dear reader, is a glance at the school 
which was mine during the first eight months of my stay 
at Gardiner's ship-yard. At the end of eight months 
Master Hugh refused longer to allow me to remain with 
Gardiner. The circumstance which led to this refusal 
was the committing of an outrage upon me, by the white 
apprentices of the ship-yard. The fight was a desperate 
one, and I came out of it shockingly mangled. I was 
cut and bruised in sundry places, and my left eye was 
nearly knocked out of its socket. The facts which led to 
this brutal outrage upon me illustrate a phase of slavery 
which was destined to become an important element in 
the overthrow of the slave system, and I may therefore 
state them 'with some minuteness. That phase was this 
the conflict of slavery with the interests of white 
mechanics and laborers. In the country this conflict was 
not so apparent ; but in cities, such as Baltimore, Rich- 
mond, New Orleans, Mobile, etc., it was seen pretty clearly. 
The slaveholders, with a craftiness peculiar to themselves, 
by encouraging the enmity of the poor laboring white 
man against the blacks, succeeded in making the said 
white man almost as much a slave as the black slave him- 



224 CASTE ENCOURAGED. 

self. The difference between the white slave and the 
black slave was this: the latter belonged to one slave- 
holder, and the former belonged to the slaveholders col- 
lectively. The white slave had taken from him by indi- 
rection what the black slave had taken from him directly 
and without ceremony. Both were plundered, and by the 
same plunderers. The slave was robbed by his master of 
all his earnings, above what was required for his bare 
physical necessities, and the white laboring man was 
robbed by the slave system of the just results of his 
labor, because he was flung into competition with a class 
of laborers who worked without wages. The slaveholders 
blinded them to this competition by keeping alive their 
prejudice against the slaves as men not against them as 
slaves. They appealed to their pride, often denouncing 
emancipation as tending to place the white working man 
on an equality with negroes, and by this means they suc- 
ceeded in drawing off the minds of the poor whites from 
the real fact, that by the rich slave master they were 
already regarded as but a single remove from equality 
with the slave. The impression was cunningly made that 
slavery was the only power that could prevent the labor- 
ing 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 was allowed to abuse and whip the former without 
hindrance. But, as I have said, this state of affairs pre- 
vailed mostly in the country. In the city of Baltimore 
there were not unfrequent murmurs that educating slaves 
to be mechanics might, in the end, give slave-masters 
power to dispense altogether with the services of the poor 
white man. 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 



ENMITY OF WHITES TOWARD BLACKS. 225 

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 free- 
men, 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 freeman, and 
aimed to prevent him from serving himself, in the even- 
ing 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 while before I went there, white and 
black 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. 
Some of the blacks were first-rate workmen and were 
given jobs requiring the highest skill. All at once, how- 
ever, the white carpenters knocked off and swore that 
they would no longer work on the same stage with negroes. 
Taking advantage of the heavy contract resting upon Mr. 
Gardiner to have the 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 inform, 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 wi^Ji me. 
They began to put on high looks and to talk contcmptu- 



226 AUTHOR NEARLY KILLED. 

ously and maliciously of " the niggers," saying that they 
would take the " country," that they " ought to be killed." 
Encouraged by 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 anything 
without coupling the call with a curse, and Edward North, 
the biggest in everything, 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 so long as I could keep them 
from combining I got on 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 Hayes, Bill Stewart, and 
Tom Humphreys. Two of them were as large as myself, 
and they came near killing me, in broad daylight. One 
came in front, armed with a brick ; there was one at each 
side and one behind, and they closed up all 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 awhile 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 planted a blow 
with his boot in my left eye, which for a time seemed to 
have burst my eye-ball. When they saw my eye com- 
pletely closed, my face covered with blood, and I stagger- 
ing under the stunning blows they had given me, they 
left me. As soon as I gathered strength I picked up the 



A COWARDLY ACT. 227 

hand-spike and madly enough attempted to pursue them ; 
but here the carpenters interfered and compelled me to 
give up my 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 ; no fewer than 
fifty white men stood by and saw this brutal and shame- 
ful 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 ?j 

"Kill him ! kill him ! kill the d n 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 mur- 
dered outright, so murderous was the spirit which pre- 
vailed there. On two other occasions while there I came 
near losing my life, on one of which 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 lost my life. 

After the united attack of North, Stewart, Hayes, 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 chance 
for life was in flight. I succeeded in getting away with- 
out 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 the colored people at that 
time in any other part of Maryland. 



228 HIS OLD, KIND MISTRESS. 

After making my escape from the ship-yard I went 
straight home and related my story to Master Hugh ; and 
to his credit I say it, 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 him in a 
somewhat similar plight, from the hands of his " Brother 
Edward Covey." Master Hugh listened attentively to my 
narration of the circumstances leading to the ruffianly 
assault, and gave many evidences of his strong indigna- 
tion at what was done. He was a rough but manly- 
hearted fellow, and at this time his best nature showed 
itself. 

The heart of my once kind mistress Sophia was again 
melted in pity towards 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 
and 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 all I suffered that it 
occasioned the manifestation once more of the originally 
characteristic kindness of my mistress. Her affectionate 
heart was not yet dead, though much hardened by time 
and circumstances. 

As for Master Hugh he was furious, and gave expres- 
sion to his feelings in the forms of speech usual in that 
locality. He poured curses on the whole of the ship-yard 
company, and swore that he would have satisfaction. His 
indignation was really strong and healthy ; but unfortu- 
nately 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 perpetrated upon me 
as a man. I had reason to think this from the fact that 
he could, himself, beat and mangle when it suited him 
to do so. 



WHITE WITNESSES ONLY COMPETENT. 229 

Bent on having satisfaction, as he said, just as so/)n 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 thex>utrage to the magis- 
trate 'as I had related it to" him, and seemed to expect 
that a warrant would at Oi.ce be issued for the arrest 
of the lawless ruffians. Mr. Watson heard all he had to 
say, then coolly 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 Mr. 
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 any- 
thing, 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 per- 
sons, and if I had been killed in the presence of a thou- 
sand blacks, their testimony combined would have been 
insufficient to condemn a single murderer. Master Hugh 
was compelled to say, for once, 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 did 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 
volunteer their evidence. The slightest show of sym- 
pathy or justice toward a person of color was denounced 
as abolitionism ; and the name of abolitionist subjected 
10 



230 ADVANTAGE OF LIVING IN BALTIMORE. 

its hearer to frightful liabilities. " D n abolitionists," 

and '^^ill the niggers," were the watch-words of the 
foul-mouthed ruffians of those days. Nothing was done, 
and probably^ i'here would not have been had I been killed 
in the affray. The IHAVS 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 to work 
again. 

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 do for me was to take me into 
Mr. Price's yard, and afford me the facilities there for 
completing the trade which I began to learn at Gardiner's. 
Here I rapidly became expert in the use of calkers' tools, 
and in the course of a single year, I was able to com- 
mand the highest wages paid to journeymen calkers in 
Baltimore. 

The reader will observe that I was now of some pecun- 
iary value to my master. During the busy season I was 
bringing six and seven dollars per week. I have some- 
times brought him as much as nine dollars a week, for 
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 trans- 
actions to which I was a party. 

Here, then, were better days for the Eastern Shore 
slave. I was free from the vexatious assaults of the 



WHY SHOULD HE BE A SLAVE. 231 

apprentices at Gardiner's, and free from the perils of 
plantation life, and once more in 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 com- 
pany with other slaves, but now there were colored per- 
sons here 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 it by the shortest 
route. I was living among freemen, and was in all 
respects equal to them by nature and 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 con- 
tracted for it, worked for 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 rob- 



232 DISSATISFIED. 

ber. 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 chap- 
ter in my life slaveholder, or non-slaveholder is con- 
scious of possessing. \ 

To make a contented slave, you must make a thought- 
less 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 who 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 relation- 
ship 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. 

S 



CHAPTER XXI. 

ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY. 

Closing incidents in my " Life as a Slave" Discontent Suspicions 
Master's generosity Difficulties in the way of escape Plan to 
obtain money Allowed to hire my time A gleam of hope Attend 
camp-meeting Anger of Master Hugh The result Plans of Es- 
cape Day for departure fixed Harrassing doubts and fears Pain- 
ful thoughts of separation from friends. 

MY condition during the year of my escape (1838) 
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 had been less physical than mental, and he 
will thus be prepared to find that slave life was adding 
nothing to its charms for me as I grew older, and be- 
came more and more acquainted with it. The practice 
from week to week of openly robbing me of all my earn- 
ings, 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 my master. 
My obligation to do this vexed me, and the manner in 
which Master Hugh received my wages vexed me yet 
more. 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 reproach- 
fully 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 

(233) 



234 KIDNAPPERS ABROAD. 

of my hard earnings, he would, however, occasionally, 
when I brought home an extra large sum, dole out to me 
a sixpence or shilling, with a view, perhaps, of kindling 
up my gratitude. But it 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 I had a right to the whole of them ; and I always 
felt uncomfortable after having received anything in this 
way, lest his giving me a few cents might possibly ease 
his conscience, and make him feel himself to be 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, to accomplish my escape seemed a 
very difficult thing. 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 could enter the cars, and could 
go only in the day time, even when so examined. The 
steamboats were under regulations equally stringent. 
And still more, and worse than all, all the great turn- 
pikes leading northward were beset with kidnappers ; a 
class of men who watched the newspapers for advertise- 
ments for runaway slaves, thus making their living by the 
accursed reward of slave-hunting. 

My discontent grew upon me, and I was on a con- 
stant look-out for means to get away. With money I could 
easily have managed the matter, and from this considera- 
tion I hit upon the plan of soliciting the privilege of 
hiring my time. It was quite common in Baltimore to 
allow slaves this privilege, and was the practice also in 
Now Orleans. A slave who was considered trustworthy 
could, by paying his master a definite sum regularly, at 
the end of each week, dispose of his time as he liked. It 



ENDEAVORED TO HIRE HIS TIME. 235 

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 acting 
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 would 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 con- 
siderate as this offer was, it failed to soothe me into 
repose. In spite of all Master Thomas had said, and in 
spite of my own efforts to the contrary, the injustice and 
wickedness of slavery were always uppermost in my 
thoughts, strengthening my purpose to make my escape 
at the earliest moment possible. 

Ab*>ut 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 unac- 
quainted with the fact that I had made a similar applica- 
tion to Master Thomas, and had been refused. My bold- 
ness in making this request fairly astounded him at 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. There was hope for me in this. 
Once master of my own time, I felt sure that I could 
make over and above my obligation to him, a dollar or 



236 HIS REQUEST GRANTED. 

two every week. Some slaves had made enough in this 
way to purchase their freedom. It was a sharp spur to 
their industry ; and some of the most enterprising colored 
men in Baltimore hired themselves in that way. 

After mature reflection, as I suppose it was, Master 
Hugh granted me the privilege in question, on the follow- 
ing terms : I was to be allowed all my time ; to make all 
bargains for work, 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 
the 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 advan- 
tage only in dry weather, for it is useless to put wet oak- 
um into a ship's seam. Rain or shine, however, work or 
no work, at the end of each week the money must be 
forthcoming. 

Master Hugh seemed much pleased with this arrange- 
ment for a time ; and well he might be, for it was 
decidedly in his favor. It relieved him of all anxiety con- 
cerning 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 



A FATAL MISTAKE. 237 

to the newly gained footing by all proper industry. I 
was ready to work by night as by day, and being in the 
possession of excellent health, I was not only able 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 calamitous event, I 
had made arrangements with a few young friends to 
accompany them on Saturday night to a camp-meeeting, 
to be held about twelve miles from Baltimore. On the 
evening of our intended start for the camp-ground, some- 
thing occurred in the ship-yard where I was at work 
which detained me unusually late, and compelled me 
either to disappoint my 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 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 in- 
tended when I left home. But as soon as I returned I 
went directly to his home on Fell street to hand him his 
(my) money. Unhappily the fatal mistake had been 
made. I found him exceedingly angry. He exhibited 
all the signs of apprehension and wrath which a slave- 
holder might be surmised to exhibit on the supposed 
escape of a favorite slave. " You rascal ! I have a great 
mind to give you a sound whipping. How dare you go 
out of the city without first asking and obtaining my per- 
mission?" "Sir," I said, "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 



238 HIS COMMISSION REVOKED. 

night." After reflecting a few moments, he became 
somewhat cooled down ; but, evidently greatly troubled, 
he said : " Now, you scoundrel, you have done for your- 
self ; you shall hire your time no longer. The next thing 
I shall hear of will be your running away. Bring home 
your tools 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 
it will be seen, that taste was far from being unalloyed, 
by no means enhanced my contentment with slavery. 
Punished 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 order in all things." So, instead of 
going to look for work on Monday morning, as I had for- 
merly 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 one who had such unlimited power to bless or 
blast me. Master. Hugh raved, and swore he would " get 
hold of me," but wisely for him, and happily for me, his 
wrath employed only those harmless, impalpable missiles 
which roll from a limber tongue. In my desperation I 
had fully made up my mind to measure strength with 
him in case he should attempt to execute his threat. I 
am glad there was no occasion for this, for resistance to 
him could not have ended so happily for me as it did in 



RESOLVED TO ESCAPE. 239 

the case of Covey. Master Hugh 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. He closed his reproofs by telling me 
that hereafter I need give myself no uneasiness about 
getting work ; 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 on the third day of 
September I would attempt to make my escape. His re- 
fusal to allow me to hire my time therefore hastened the 
period of my flight. I had three weeks in which to pre- 
pare for my journey. 

Once resolved, I felt a certain degree of repose, and on 
Monday morning, 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. Butler, 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 exceed- 
ingly fine, I brought Master Hugh 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 my 
plans. The going to camp-meeting without asking his 
permission, the insolent answers to his reproaches, the 
sulky deportment of the week after being deprived of the 
privilege of hiring my time, had awakened the suspicion 
that I might be cherishing disloyal purposes. My object, 
therefore, in working steadily was to remove suspicion ; 



240 RECEIVES TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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 I again carried him my full week's 
wages nine dollars ; and so well pleased was he that lie 
gave me twenty-five cents ! and bade me " make good use 
of it." I told him I would do so, for one of the uses to 
which I intended 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 arid anxiety which 
I had experienced two years and a half before. The fail- 
ure 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. The thought of such a separation, where 
the hope of ever meeting again was excluded, and where 
there could be no correspondence, was very painful. It 
is my opinion that thousands more would have escaped 
from slavery but for the strong affection which bound 
them to their families, relatives, and friends. The daugh- 
ter was hindered by the love she bore her mother, and the 
father by the love he bore his wife and children, and so 
on to the end of the chapter. I had no relations in Balti- 
more, and I saw no probability of ever living in the 
neighborhood of sisters and brothers ; but the thought of 
leaving my friends was the strongest obstacle to my run- 
ning 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 Satur- 



GOOD BYE, MASTER. 241 

day 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 Balti- 
more, and to that slavery which had been my abhorrence 
from childhood. 



SECOND PART. 



CHAPTER I. 
ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY. 

Reasons for not having revealed the manner of escape Nothing of 
romance in the method Danger Free papers Unjust tax Pro- 
tection papers "Free trade and Sailors' rights" American eagle 
Railroad train Unobserving conductor Capt. McGowan Hon- 
est German Fears Safe arrival in Philadelphia Ditto in New 
York. 

IN the first narrative of my experience in slavery, writ- 
ten nearly forty years ago, and in various writings 
since, I have given the public what I considered very 
good reasons for withholding the manner of my escape. 
In substance these reasons were, first, that such publi- 
cation at any time during the existence of slavery might 
be used by the master against the slave, and prevent the 
future escape of any who might adopt the same means 
that I did. The second reason was, if possible, still more 
binding to silence for publication of details would cer- 
tainly have put in peril the persons and property of those 
who assisted. Murder itself was not more sternly and 
certainly punished in the State of Maryland than that of 
aiding and abetting the escape of a slave. Many colored 
men, for no other crime than that of giving aid to a fugi- 
tive slave, have, like Charles T. Torrey, perished in prison. 
The abolition of slavery in my native State and through- 
out the country, and the lapse of time, render the caution 
hitherto observed no longer necessary. But, even since 
the abolition of slavery, I have sometimes thought it well 

(242) 



HOW HE ESCAPED. 245 

enough to baffle curiosity by* saying that while slavery 
existed there were good reasons for not telling the man- 
ner of my escape, and since slavery had ceased to exist 
there was no reason for telling it. I shall now, however, 
cease to avail myself of this formula, and, as far as I can, 
endeavor to satisfy this very natural curiosity. I should 
perhaps have yielded to that feeling sooner, had there 
been anything very heroic or thrilling in the incidents 
connected with my escape, for I am sorry to say I have 
nothing of that sort to tell ; and yet the courage that 
could risk betrayal and the bravery which was ready to 
encounter death if need be, in pursuit of freedom, were 
essential features in the undertaking. My success was 
due to address rather than courage ; to good luck rather/ 
than bravery. My means of escape were provided for 
me by the very men who were making laws* to hold and 
bind me more securely in slavery. It was the custom in 
the State of Maryland to require of the free colored peo- 
ple to have what were called free papers. This instru- 
ment they were required to renew very often, and by 
charging a fee for this writing, considerable sums from 
time to time were collected by the State. In these papers 
the name, age, color, height, and form of the free man 
were described, together with any scars or other marks 
upon his person, which could assist in his identification. 
This device of slaveholding ingenuity, like other devices 
of wickedness, in some measure defeated itself since 
more than one man could be found to answer the same 
general description. Hence many slaves could escape by 
personating the owner of one set of papers ; and this was 
often done as follows : A slave nearly or sufficiently 
answering the description set forth in the papers, would 
borrow or hire them till he could by their means escape 
to a free state, and then, by mail or otherwise, return 
them to the owner. The operation was a hazardous one 



246 HAZARDOUS OPERATION. 

for the lender as well as tke borrower. A failure on the 
part of the .fugitive to send back the papers would im- 
peril his benefactor, and the discovery of the papers in 
possession of the wrong man would imperil both the fugi- 
tive and his friend. It was therefore an act of supreme 
trust on the part of a freeman of color thus to put in 
jeopardy his own liberty that another might be free. It was, 
however, not unfrequeiitly bravely done, and was seldom 
discovered. I was not so fortunate as to sufficiently 
resemble any of my free acquaintances as to answer the 
description of their papers. But I had one friend a 
sailor who owned a sailor's protection, which answered 
somewhat the purpose of free papers describing his per- 
son, and certifying to the fact that he was a free Ameri- 
can sailor. The instrument had at its head the American 
eagle, which gave it the appearance at once of an author- 
ized document. This protection did not, when in my 
hands, describe its bearer very accurately. Indeed, it 
called for a man much darker than myself, and close 
examination of it would have caused my arrest at the 
start. In order to avoid this fatal scrutiny on the part 
of the railroad official, I had arranged with Isaac Rolls, 
a hackman, to bring my baggage to the train just on the 
moment of starting, and jumped upon the car myself 
when the train was already in motion. Had I gone into 
the station and offered to purchase a ticket, I should 
have been instantly and carefully examined, and undoubt- 
edly arrested. In choosing this plan upon which to act, 
I considered the jostle of the train, and the natural haste 
of the conductor, in a train crowded with passengers, 
and relied upon my skill and address in playing the 
saildr as described in my protection, to do the rest. One 
element in my favor was the kind feeling which prevailed 
in Baltimore, and other seaports at the time, towards 
" those who go down to the sea in ships." " Free trade 



HIS KNOWLEDGE OF SHIPS. 247 

and sailors' rights " expressed the sentiment of the coun- 
try just then. In my clothing I was rigged out in sailor 
style. I had on a red shirt and a tarpaulin hat and black 
cravat, tied in sailor fashion, carelessly and loosely about 
my neck. My knowledge of ships and sailor's talk came 
much to my assistance, for I knew r a ship from stem to 
stern, and from keelson to cross-trees, and could talk 
sailor like an "old salt." On sped the train, and I was 
well on the way to Havre de Grace before the conductor 
came into the negro car to collect tickets and examine 
the papers of his black passengers. This was a critical 
moment in the drama. My whole future depended upon 
the decision of this conductor. Agitated I" was while this 
ceremony was proceeding, but still externally, at least, I 
was apparently calm and self-possessed. He went on 
with his duty examining several colored passengers 
before reaching me. He was somewhat harsh in tone, 
and peremptory in manner until he reached me, when, 
strangely enough, and to my surprise and relief, his whole 
manner changed. Seeing that I did not readily produce 
my free papers, as the other colored persons in the car 
had done, he said to me in a friendly contrast with that 
observed towards the others : " I suppose you have your 
free papers ? " To which I answered : " No, sir ; I never 
carry my free papers to sea with me." " But you have 
something to show that you are a free man, have you 
not?" " Yes, sir," I answered; "I have a paper with 
the American eagle on it, that will carry me round the 
world." "With this I drew from my deep sailor's pocket 
my seaman's protection, as before described. The merest 
glance at the paper satisfied him, and he took my fare 
and went on about his business. This moment of time 
was one of the most anxious I ever experienced. Had 
the conductor looked closely at the paper, he could not 
have failed to discover that it called for a very different 



248 A DANGEROUS FRIEND. 

looking person from myself, and ;n that case it would 
have been his duty to arrest me on the instant, and send 
me back to Baltimore from the first station. When he 
left me with the assurance that I was all right, though 
much relieved, I realized that I was still in great danger : 
I was still in Maryland, and subject to arrest at any 
moment. I saw on the train several persons who would 
have known me in any other clothes, and I feared they 
might recognize me, even in my sailor " rig," and report 
me to the conductor, who would then subject me to a 
closer examination, which I knew well would be fatal 
to me. 

Though I was not a murderer fleeing from justice, I 
felt, perhaps, quite as miserable as such a criminal. The 
train was moving at a very high rate of speed for that time 
of railroad travel, but to my anxious mind, it was moving 
far too slowly. Minutes were hours, and hours were days 
during this part of my flight. After Maryland I was to 
pass through Delaware another slave State, where slave- 
catchers generally awaited their prey, for it was not in 
the interior of the State, but on its borders, that these 
human hounds were most vigilant and active. The bor- 
der lines between slavery and freedom were the danger- 
ous ones, for the fugitives. The heart of no fox or deer, 
with hungry hounds on his trail, in full chase, could 
have beaten more anxiously or noisily than did mine, 
from the time I left Baltimore till I reached Philadelphia. 
The passage of the Susquehanna river at Havre de Grace 
was made by ferry-boat at that time, on board of which 
I met a young colored man by the name of Nichols, who 
came very near betraying me. He was a " hand " on the 
boat, but instead of minding his business, he insisted up- 
on knowing me, and asking me dangerous questions as 
to where I was going, and when I was coming back, etc. 
I got away from my old and inconvenient acquaintance 



ARRIVES IN NEW YORK. 249 

as soon as I could decently do so, and went to another 
part of the boat. Once across the river I encountered a 
new danger. Only a few days before I had been at work 
on a revenue cutter, in Mr. Price's ship-yard, under the 
care of Captain McGowan. On the meeting at this point 
of the two trains, the one going south stopped on the 
track just opposite to the one going north, and it so hap- 
pened that this Captain McGowan sat at a window where 
he could see me very distinctly, and would certainly have 
recognized me had he looked at me but for a second. 
Fortunately, in the hurry of the moment, he did not see 
me ; and the trains soon passed each other on their 
respective ways. But this was not the only hair-breadth 
escape. A German blacksmith, whom I knew well, was 
on the train with me, and looked at me very intently, as 
if he thought he had seen me somewhere before in his 
travels. I really believe he knew me, but had no heart 
to betray me. At any rate he saw me escaping and held 
his peace. 

The last point of imminent danger, and the one I 
dreaded most, was Wilmington. Here we left the train 
and took the steamboat for Philadelphia. In making the 
change here I again apprehended arrest, but no one dis- 
turbed me, and I was soon on the broad and beautiful 
Delaware, speeding away to the Quaker City. On reach- 
ing Philadelphia in the afternoon I inquired of a colored 
man how I could get on to Xew York ? He directed me 
to the Willow street depot, and thither I went, taking the 
train that night. I reached New York Tuesday morning, 
having completed the journey in less than twenty-four 
hours. Such is briefly the manner of my escape from 
slavery and the end of my experience as a slave. Other 
chapters will tell the story of my life as a freeman. 



CHAPTER II. 

LIFE AS A FREEMAN. 

Loneliness and Insecurity " Allender's Jake" Succored by a sailor 
David Ruggles Marriage Steamer J. W. Richmond Stage to 
New Bedford Arrival there Driver's detention of baggage Na- 
than Johnson Change of name Why called "Douglas" Obtain- 
ing work The Liberator and its editor. 

~A /T~Y free life began on the third of September, 1838. 
1VI On the morning of the 4th of that month, after 
an anxious and most perilous but safe journey, I found 
myself in the big city of New York, a free man ; one 
more added to the mighty throng which, like the con- 
fused waves of the troubled sea, surged to and fro between 
the lofty walls of Broadway. Though dazzled with the 
wonders which met me on every hand, my thoughts could 
not be much withdrawn from my strange situation. For the 
moment the dreams of my youth, and the hopes of my 
manhood, were completely fulfilled. * The bonds that had 
held me to " old master" were broken. No man now had 
a right to call me his slave or assert mastery over me. 
I was in the rough and tumble of an outdoor world, to 
take my chance with the rest of its busy number. I have 
often been asked, how I felt when first I found myself on 
free soil. And my readers may share the same curiosity. 
There is scarcely anything in my experience about which 
I could not give a more satisfactory answer. A new 
world had opened upon me. If life is more than breath, 
and the "quick round, of blood," I lived more in one day 
than in a year of my slave life. It was a time of joyous 
excitement which words can but tamely describe. In a 

(250) 



NEW YORK AX UNSAFE REFUGE. 251 

letter written to a friend soon after reaching New York, 
I said : " I felt as one might feel upon escape from a den 
of hungry lions. " Anguish and grief, like darkness and 
rain, may be depicted ; but gladness and joy, like the rain- 
bo \v, defy the skill of pen or pencil. During ten or fifteen 
years I had, as it were, been dragging a heavy chain, 
wlnJi no strength of mine could break ; I was not only a 
slave, but a slave for life. I might become a husband, a 
father, an aged man, but through all, from the cradle to 
the grave, I had felt myself doomed. All efforts I had 
previously made to secure my freedom, had not only 
failed, but had seemed only to rivet my fetters the more 
firmly, and to render my escape more difficult. Baffled, 
entangled, and discouraged, I had at times asked myself 
the question, May not my condition after all be God's 
work, and ordered for a wise purpose, and if so, was not 
submission my duty ? A contest had in fact been going 
on in my mind for a long time, between the clear con- 
sciousness of right, and the plausible make-shifts of theol- 
ogy and superstition. The one held me an abject slave 
a prisoner for life, punished for some transgression in 
which I had no lot or part ; and the other counseled me 
to manly endeavor to secure my freedom. This contest 
was now ended ; my chains were broken, and the victory 
brought me unspeakable joy. But my gladness was short 
lived, for I was not yet out of the reach and power of the 
slaveholders. I soon found that New York was not quite 
so free, or so safe a refuge as I had supposed, and a sense 
of loneliness and insecurity again oppressed me most 
sadly. I chanced to meet on the street, a few hours after 
my landing, a fugitive slave whom I had once known well 
in slavery. The information received from him alarmed 
me. The fugitive in question was known in Baltimore 
as " Allender's Jake," but in New York he wore the more 
respectable name of " William Dixon." Jake in law was 



252 A STRANGER WITHOUT MONEY OR WORK. 

the property of Doctor Allender, and Tolly Allender, the 
son of the doctor, had once made an effort to recapture 
Mr. Dixon, but had failed for want of evidence to support 
his claim. Jake told me the circumstances of this 
attempt, and how narrowly he escaped being sent back to 
slavery and torture. He told me that New York was 
then full of southeners re turning from the watering-places 
north ; that the colored people of New York were not to 
be trusted ; that there were hired men of my own color 
who would betray me for a few dollars ; that there were 
hired men ever on the lookout for fugitives ; that I must 
trust no man with my secret ; that I must not think of 
going either upon the wharves, or into any colored board- 
ing-house, for all such places were closely watched ; that 
he was himself unable to help me ; and, in fact, he seemed 
while speaking to me, to fear lest I myself might be a spy 
and a betrayer. Under this apprehension, as I suppose, 
he showed signs of wishing to be rid of me, and with 
whitewash brush in hand, in search of work, he soon dis- 
appeared. This picture, given by poor " Jake," of New 
York, was a damper to my enthusiasm. My little store 
.. of money would soon be exhausted, and since it would be 
i unsafe for me to go on the wharves for work, and I had no 
i introductions elsewhere, the prospect for me was far from 
cheerful. I saw the wisdom of keeping away from the 
ship-yards, for, if pursued, as I felt certain I would be, 
Mr. Auld would naturally seek me there among the calk- 
ers. Every door seemed closed against me. I was in the 
midst of an ocean of my fellow-men, and yet a perfect 
stranger to every one. I was without home, without 
acquaintance, without money, without credit, without 
work, and without any definite knowledge as to what 
course to take, or where to look for succor. In such an 
extremity, a man has something beside his new-born free^ 
dom to think of. While wandering about the streets of 



MARRIED TO THE GIRL HE LOVED. 253 

New York, and lodging at least one night among the 
barrels on one of the wharves, I was indeed free from 
slavery, but free from food and shelter as well. I kept 
my secret to myself as long as I could, but was compelled 
at last to seek some one who should befriend me, without 
taking advantage of my destitution to betray me. Such 
an one I found in a sailor named Stuart, a warm-hearted 
and generous fellow, who from his humble home on Cen- 
ter street, saw me standing on the opposite sidewalk, 
near " The Tombs." As he approached me I ventured a 
remark to him which at once enlisted his interest in me. 
He took me to his home to spend the night, and in the 
morning went with me to Mr. David Ruggles, the secre- 
tary of the New York vigilance committee, a co-worker 
with Isaac T. Hopper, Lewis and Arthur Tappan, Theo- 
dore S. Wright, Samuel Cornish, Thomas Downing, 
Philip A. Bell, and other true men of their time." All 
these (s^ave Mr. Bell, who still lives, and is editor and 
publisher of a paper called the Elevator, in San Fran- 
cisco) have finished their work on earth. Once in the 
hands of these brave and wise men, I felt comparatively 
safe. With Mr. Ruggles, on the corner of Lispenard and 
Church streets, I was hidden several days, during which 
time my intended wife came on from Baltimore at my 
call, to share the burdens of life with me. She was a 
free woman, and came at once on getting the good news 
of my safety. We were married by Rev. J. W. C. Peu- 
nington, then a well-known and respected Presbyterian 
minister. I had no money with which to pay the mar- 
riage fee, but he seemed well pleased with our thanks. 

Mr. Ruggles was the first officer on the underground 
railroad with whom I met after coming North ; and was 
indeed the only one with whom I had anything to do, till 
I became such an officer myself. Learning that my trade 
was that of a calker, he promptly decided that the best 



254 THEY ARRIVE AT NEW BEDFORD. 

place for me was in New Bedford, Mass. He told me 
that many ships for whaling voyages were fitted out 
there, and that I might there find work at my trade, and 
make a good living. So, on the day of the marriage cere- 
mony, we took our little luggage to the steamer John W. 
Richmond, which at that time was one of the line run- 
ning between New York and Newport, R. I. Forty-three 
years ago colored travelers were not permitted in the 
cabin, nor allowed abaft the paddle-wheels of a steam 
vessel. They were compelled, whatever the weather 
might be, whether cold or hot, wet or dry, to spend the 
night on deck. Unjust as this regulation was, it did not 
trouble us much. We had fared much harder before. 
We arrived at Newport the next morning, and soon after 
an old-fashioned stage-coach with " New Bedford " in 
large, yellow letters on its sides, came down to the wharf. 
I had not money enough to pay our fare, and stood hesi- 
tating to know what to do. Fortunately for us, there 
were two Quaker gentlemen who were about to take pas- 
sage on the stage, Friends William C. Taber and Joseph 
Ricketson, who at once discerned our true situation, 
and in a peculiarly quiet way, addressing me, Mr. Taber 
said : " Thee get in." I never obeyed an order with more 
alacrity, and we were soon on our way to our new home. 
When we reached "Stone Bridge" the passengers 
alighted for breakfast, and paid their fares to the driver. 
We took no breakfast, and when asked for our fares I 
told the driver I would make it right with him when we 
reached New Bedford. I expected some objection to 
this on his part, but he made none. When, however, we 
reached New Bedford he took our baggage, including 
three music books, two of them collections by Dyer, 
and one by Shaw, and held them until I was able to 
redeem them by paying to him the sums due for our 
rides. This was soon done, for Mr. Nathan Johnson not 




AT THE WHARF ix NEWPORT 



GETS A NEW NAME. 255 

only received me kindly and hospitably, but, on being 
informed about our baggage, at once loaned me the two 
dollars with which to square accounts with the stage- 
driver. Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Johnson reached a good old 
age, and now rest from their labors. I am under many 
grateful obligations to them. They not only " took me in 
when a stranger," and "fed me when hungry," but taught 
me how to make an honest living. 

Thus, in a fortnight after my flight from Maryland, I 
was safe in New Bedford, a citizen of the grand old 
commonwealth of Massachusetts. 

Once initiated into my new life of freedom, and assured 
by Mr. Johnson that I need not fear recapture in that 
city, a comparatively unimportant question arose, as to 
the name by which I should be known thereafter, in my 
new relation as a free man. The name given me by my 
dear mother was no less pretentious and long than Fred- 
erick Augustus Washington Bailey. I had, however, 
while living in Maryland disposed of the Augustus Wash- 
ington, and retained only Frederick Bailey. Between 
Baltimore and New Bedford, the better to conceal my- 
self from the slave-hunters, I had parted with Bailey and 
called myself Johnson ; but finding that in New Bedford 
the Johnson family was already so numerous as to cause 
some confusion in distinguishing one from another, a 
change in this name seemed desirable. Nathan Johnson, 
mine host, was emphatic as to this necessity, and wished 
me to allow him to select a name for me. I consented, 
and he called me by my present name, the one by which 
I have been known for three and forty years, Frederick 
Douglass. Mr. Johnson had just been reading the " Lady 
of the Lake," and so pleased was he with its great char- 
acter that he wished me to bear his name. Since reading 
that charming poem myself, I have often thought that, 
considering the noble hospitality and manly character of 
11 



256 POOR WHITE TRASH. 

Nathan Johnson, black man though he was, he, far more 
than I, illustrated the virtues of the Douglas of Scotland. 
Sure am I that if any slave-catcher had entered his domi- 
cile with a view to my recapture, Johnson would have 
been like him of the " stalwart hand." 

The reader may be surprised, that living in Baltimore 
as I had done for many years, when I tell the honest 

'truth of the impressions I had in some way conceived of 
the social and material condition of the people at the 
north. I had no proper idea of the wealth, refinement, 
enterprise, and high civilization of this section of the 
country. My Columbian Orator, almost my only book, 
had done nothing to enlighten me concerning northern 
society. I had been taught that slavery was the bottom- 
fact of all wealth. With this foundation idea, I came 
naturally to the conclusion that poverty must be the gen- 
eral condition of the people of the free States. A white 
man holding no slaves in the country from which I came, 
was usually an ignorant and poverty-stricken man. Men 
of this class were contemptuously called " poor white 
trash." Hence I supposed that since the non-slaveholders 
at the south were ignorant, poor, and degraded as a. class, 
the non-slaveholders at the north must be in a similar 
condition. New Bedford, therefore, which at that time 
was really the richest city in the Union, in proportion to 
its population, took me greatly by surprise, in the evi- 
dences it gave of its solid wealth and grandeur. I found 
that even the laboring classes lived in better houses, that 
their houses were more elegantly furnished, and were 
more abundantly supplied with conveniences and com- 
forts, than the houses of many who owned slaves on the 
Eastern Shore of Maryland. This was true not only of 
the white people of that city, but it was so of my friend, 
Mr. Johnson. He lived in a nicer house, dined at a more 
ample board, was the owner of more books, the reader of 



BETTER SYSTEM OF LABOR. 257 

more newspapers, was more conversant with the moral, 
social and political condition of the country and the 
world, than nine-tenths of the slaveholders in all Talbot 
county. I was not long in finding the cause of the differ- 
ence, in these respects, between the people of the north 
and south. It was the superiority of educated mind over 
mere brute forced I will not detain the reader by 
extended illustrations as to how my understanding was 
enlightened on this subject. On the wharves of New 
Bedford I received my first light. I saw there industry 
without bustle, labor without noise, toil honest, earnest, 
and exhaustive without the whip. There was no loud 
singing or hallooing, as at the wharves of southern ports 
when ships were loading or unloading ; no loud cursing or 
quarreling ; everything went on as smoothly as well-oiled 
machinery. One of the first incidents which impressed 
me with the superior mental character of labor in the 
north over that of the south, was the manner of loading 
and unloading vessels. In a southern port twenty or 
thirty hands would be employed to do what five or six 
men, with the help of one ox, would do at the wharf in 
New Bedford. Main strength human muscle unas- 
sisted by intelligent skill, was slavery's method of labor. 
With a capital of about sixty dollars in the shape of a 
good-natured old ox, attached to the end of a stout rope, 
Xt'\v Bedford did the work of ten or twelve thousand dol- 
lars, represented in the bones and muscles of slaves, and 
did it far better. In a word, I found everything managed 
with a much more scrupulous regard to economy, both of 
men and things, time and strength, than in the country from 
which I had come. Instead of going a hundred yards to 
the spring, the maid-servant had a well or pump at her 
elbow. The wood used for fuel was kept dry and snugly 
piled away for winter. Here were sinks, drains, self-shut- 
ting gates, pounding-barrels, washing-machines, wringing 



258 LIFE IN NEW BEDFORD. 

machines, and a hundred other continuances for saving 
time and money. The ship-repairing docks showed the 
same thoughtful wisdom as seen elsewhere. Everybody 
seemed in earnest. The carpenter struck the nail on its 
head, and the calkers wasted no strength in idle flourishes 
of their mallets. Ships brought here for repairs were 
made stronger and better than when new. I could have 
landed in no part of the United States where I should 
have found a more striking and gratifying contrast, not 
only to life generally in the South, but in the condition of 
the colored people there, than in New Bedford, No col- 
ored man was really free while residing in a slave State. 
He was ever more or less subject to the condition of his 
slave brother. In his color was his badge of bondage. I 
saw in New Bedford the nearest approach to freedom and 
equality that I had ever seen. I was amazed when Mr. 
Johnson told me that there was nothing in the laws or 
constitution of Massachusetts that would prevent a col- 
ored man from being governor of the State, if the people 
should see fit to elect him. There too the black man's 
children attended the same public schools with the white 
man's children, and apparently without objection from 
any quarter. To impress me with my security from re- 
capture, and return to slavery, Mr. Johnson assured me 
that no slaveholder could take a slave out of New Bed- 
ford ; that there were men there who would lay down 
their lives to save ma from such a fate. A threat was 
once made by a colored man to inform a southern master 
where his runaway slave could be found. As soon as 
this threat became known to the colored people they were 
furious. A notice was read from the pulpit of the Third 
Christian Church (colored) for a public meeting, when 
important business would be transacted (not stating what 
the important business was). In the meantime special 
measures had been taken to secure the attendance of the 



HIS FIRST FREE EARNINGS. 259 

would-be Judas, and these had proved successful, for 
when the hour of meeting arrived, ignorant of the object 
for which they were called together, the offender was 
promptly in attendance. All the usual formalities were 
gone through with, the prayer, appointments of president, 
secretaries, etc. Then the president, with an air of great 
solemnity, rose and said : " Well, friends and brethren, 
we have got him here, and I would recommend that you, 
young men, should take him outside the door and kill 
him." This was enough ; there was a rush for the villain, 
who would probably have been killed but for his escape 
by an open window. He was never seen again in New 
Bedford. 

The fifth day after my arrival I put on the clothes of a 
common laborer, and went upon the wharves in search of 
work. On my way down Union street I saw a large pile 
of coal in front of the house of Rev. Ephraim Peabody, 
the Unitarian minister. I went to thp kitchen-door and 
asked the privilege of bringing in and putting away this 
coal. " What will you charge ? " said the lady. " I will 
leave that to you, madam." " You may put it away," 
she said. I was not long in accomplishing the job, when 
the dear lady put into my hand two silver half-dollars. 
To understand the emotion which swelled my heart as I 
clasped this money, realizing that I had no master who 
could take it from me that it was mine that my hands 
were my own, and could earn more of the precious coin 
one must have been in some sense himself a slave. My 
next job was stowing a sloop at Uncle Gid. Rowland's 
wharf with a cargo of oil for New York. I was not only 
a freeman but a free-working man, and no master Hugh 
stood ready at the end of the week to seize my hard 
earnings. 

The season was .growing late and work was plenty. 
Ships were being fitted out for whaling, and much wood 



200 UNKIND TREATMENT. 

was used in storing them. The sawing this wood was 
considered a good job. With the help of old Friend 
Johnson (blessings on his memory !) I got a " saw" and 
" buck" and went at it. When I went into a store to buy 
a cord with which to brace up my saw in the frame, 
I asked for a"fip's" worth of cord. The man behind 
the counter looked rather sharply at me, and said with 
equal sharpness, " You don't belong about here." I was 
alarmed, and thought I had betrayed myself. A fip in 
Maryland was six and a quarter cents, called fourpence in 
Massachusetts. But no harm came, except my fear, from 
the " fipenny-bit " blunder, and I confidently and cheer- 
fully went to work with my saw and buck. It was new 
business to me, but I never did better work, nor more of 
it in the same space of time, for Covey, the negro-breaker, 
than I did for myself in these earliest years of my free- 
dom. 

Notwithstanding the just and humane sentiment of New 
Bedford three-and-forty years ago, the place was not entirely 
free from race and color prejudice. The good influence 
of the Roaches, Rodmans, Arnolds, Grinnells, and Robe- 
sons did not pervade all classes of its people. The test 
of the real civilization of the community came when I ap- 
plied for work at my trade, and then my repulse was 
emphatic and decisive. It so happened that Mr. Rodney 
French, a wealthy and enterprising citizen, distinguished 
as an anti-slavery man, was fitting out a vessel for a 
whaling voyage, upon which there was a heavy job 
of calking and coppering to be done. I had some skill in 
both branches, and applied to Mr. French for work. He, 
generous man that he was, told me he would employ me, 
and I might go at once to the vessel. I obeyed him, but 
upon reaching the float-stage, where other calkers were at 
work, I was told that every white man would leave the 
ship in her unfinished condition, if I struck a blow at niy 



JOSEPH RICKETSON. 261 

trade upon her. This uncivil, inhuman, and selfish treat- 
ment was not so shocking and scandalous in my eyes 
at the time as it now appears to me. Slavery had inured 
me to hardships that made ordinary trouble sit lightly 
upon me. Could I have worked at my trade I could have 
earned two dollars a day, but as a common laborer I 
received but one dollar. The difference was of great im- 
portance to me, but if I could not get two dollars I was 
glad to get one ; and so I went to work for Mr. French as 
a common laborer. The consciousness that I was free 
no longer a slave kept me cheerful under this, and many 
similar proscriptions which I was destined to meet in New 
Bedford and elsewhere on the free soil of Massachusetts. 
For instance, though white and colored children attended 
the same schools, and were treated kindly by their teach- 
ers, the New Bedford Lyceum refused till several years 
after my residence in that city to allow any colored person 
to attend the lectures delivered in its hall. Not until 
such men as Hon. Chas. Sumner, Theodore Parker, Ralph 
W. Emerson, and Horace Mann refused to lecture in their 
course while there was such a restriction was it aban- 
doned. 

Becoming satisfied that I could not rely on my trade in 
New Bedford to give me a living, I prepared myself to do 
any kind of work that came to hand. I sawed wood, 
shoveled coal, dug cellars, moved rubbish from back- 
yards, worked on the wharves, loaded and unloaded ves- 
sels, and scoured their cabins. 

This was an uncertain and unsatisfactory mode of life, 
for it kept me too much of the time in search of work. 
Fortunately it was not to last long. One of the gentlemen 
of whom I have spoken as being in company with Mr. 
Taber on the Newport wharf, when he said to me, " Thee 
get in," was Mr. Joseph Ricketson, and he was the pro- 
prietor of a large candle-works . in the south part of 



262 HEAVY WORK. 

the city. In this " candle-works," as it was called, though 
no candles were manufactured there, by the kindness 
of Mr. Ricketson I found what is of the utmost importance 
to a young man just starting in life constant employ- 
ment and regular wages. My work in this oil-refinery 
required good wind and muscle. Large casks of oil were 
to be moved from place to place, and much heavy lifting 
to be done. Happily I was not deficient in the requisite 
qualities. Young (21 years), strong, and active, and am- 
bitious to do my full share, I soon made myself useful, 
and I think liked by the men who worked with me, though 
they were all white. I was retained here as long as there 
was anything for me to do, when I went again to the wharves 
and obtained work as a laborer on two vessels which be- 
longed to Mr. George Howland, and which were being 
repaired and fitted up for whaling. My employer was a man 
of great industry ; a hard driver, but a good paymaster, 
and I got on well with him. I was not only fortunate in 
finding work with Mr. Howland, but in my work-fellows. 
I have seldom met three working men more intelligent 
than were John Briggs, Abraham Rodman, and Solomon 
Pennington, who labored with me on the "Java" and 
" Golconda." They were sober, thoughtful, and upright, 
thoroughly imbued with the spirit of liberty, and 1 am 
much indebted to them for many valuable ideas and im- 
pressions. They taught me that all colored men were 
not light-hearted triflers, incapable of serious thought or 
effort. My next place of work was at the brass-foundry 
owned by Mr. Richmond. My duty here was to blow the 
bellows, swing the crane, and empty the flasks in which 
castings were made ; and at times this was hot and heavy 
work. The articles produced here were mostly for ship- 
work, and in the busy season the foundry was in operation 
night and day. I have often worked two nights and each 
working day of the week. My foreman, Mr. Cobb, was a 



KNOWLEDGE UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 263 

good man, and more than once protected me from abuse 
that one or more of the hands were disposed to throw upon 
me. While in this situation I had little time for mental 
improvement. Hard work, night and day, over a furnace 
hot enough to keep the metal running like water, was 
more favorable to action than thought, yet here I often 
nailed a newspaper to the post near my bellows, and read 
while I was performing the up and down motion of 
the heavy beam by which the bellows was inflated and 
discharged. It was the pursuit of knowledge under diffi- 
culties, and I look back to it now after so many years 
with some complacency and a little wonder that I could 
have been so earnest and persevering in any pursuit other 
than for my daily bread. I certainly saw nothing in the 
conduct of those around to inspire me with such interest; 
they were all devoted exclusively to what their hands 
found to do. I am glad to be able to say that during my 
engagement in this foundry no complaint was ever made 
against me that I did not do my work, and do it well. 
The bellows which I worked by main strength was, after I 
left, moved by a steam-engine. 

I had been living four or five months in New Bedford 
when there came a young man to me with a copy of 
the Liberator, the paper edited by William Lloyd Garri- 
son 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 had no money 
then to pay for it. He was very willing to take me as a sub- 
scriber, notwithstanding, and from this time I was brought 
into contact with the mind of Mr. Garrison, and his paper 
took a place in my heart second only to the Bible. It de- 
tested slavery, and made no truce with the traffickers in 
the bodies and souls of men. It preached human broth- 
erhood; it exposed hypocrisy and wickedness in high 
places; it denounced oppression; and with all the sol- 



264 CONTACT WITH GARRISON. 

emnity of " Thus saith the Lord," demanded the complete 
emancipation of .my race. I loved this paper and its 
editor. He seemed to me an all-sufficient match to every 
opponent, whether they spoke in the name of the law or 
the gospel. His words were full of holy fire, and straight 
to the point. Something of a hero-worshiper by nature, 
here was one to excite my admiration and reverence. 

Soon after becoming a reader of the Liberator, it was 
my privilege to listen to a lecture in Liberty Hall by 
Mr. Garrison, its editor. He was then a young man, 
of. a singularly pleasing countenance, and earnest and 
impressive manner. On this occasion he announced 
nearly all his heresies. His Bible was his text- 
book held sacred as the very word of the Eternal 
Father. He believed in sinless perfection, complete sub- 
mission to insults and injuries, and literal obedience to 
the injunction if smitten " on one cheek to turn the other 
also." Not only was Sunday a Sabbath, but all days 
were Sabbaths, and to be kept holy. All sectarianism 
was false and mischievous the regenerated throughout 
the world being members of one body, and the head 
Christ Jesus. Prejudice against color was rebellion against 
G-od. 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 Chris- 
tians, were synagogues of Satan, and our nation was a 
nation of liars. .He was never loud and noisy, but 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 



HE HEARS HIM LECTURE. 265 

of the Liberator, and a listener to its editor, before 
I got a clear comprehension of the principles of 
the anti-slavery movement. I had already its' spirit, 
and only needed to understand its principles and mea- 
sures, and as I became acquainted with these my 
hope for the ultimate freedom of my race increased. 
Every week the Liberator came, and every week I made 
myself master of its contents. All the anti-slavery meet- 
ings held in New Bedford I promptly attended, my heart 
bounding at every true utterance against the slave sys- 
tem, and every rebuke of its friends and supporters. 
Thus passed the first" three years of my free life. I had 
not then dreamed of the possibilitvjrfmy 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 heart. 



CHAPTER III. 
INTRODUCED TO THE ABOLITIONISTS. 

Anti-Slavery Convention at Nantucket First Speech Much Sensa- 
tion Extraordinary Speech of Mr. Garrison Anti Slavery Agency 
Youthful Enthusiasm Fugitive Slaveship doubted Experience 
in Slavery written Danger of Recapture. 

IN the summer of 1841 a grand anti-slavery convention 
was held in Nantucket, under the auspices of Mr. 
Garrison and his friends. I had taken no holiday since 
establishing myself in New Bedford, and feeling the need 
of a little rest, I determined on attending the meeting, 
though I had no thought of taking part in any of its pro- 
ceedings. Indeed, I was not aware that any one con- 
nected with the convention so much as knew my name. 
Mr. William C. Coffin, a prominent abolitionist in those 
days of trial, had heard me speaking to my colored 
friends in the little school-house on Second street, 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 express 
the feelings inspired by the occasion, and the fresh recol- 
lection of the scenes through which I had passed as a 
slave. 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. The 
audience sympathized with me at once, and from having 

(266) 



ATTENDS AN ANTI-SLAVERY MEETING. 267 

been remarkably quiet, became much excited. Mr. Gar- 
rison followed me, taking me as his text, and now, 
whether /had made an eloquent plea in behalf of freedom, 
or not, his was one, never to be forgotten. Those who 
had heard him ofteuest, and had known him longest, 
were astonished at his masterly effort. For the time 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 swaying a thousand heads and hearts at once, and 
by the simple majesty of his all-controlling thought, con- 
verting his hearers into the express image of his own 
soul. That night there were at least a thousand Garri- 
sonians in Xantucket ! 

At 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 publicly 
advocate its principles. I was reluctant to take the 
proffered position. I had not been quite three years 
from slavery and was honestly distrustful of my ability, 
and I wished to be excused. Besides, publicity might 
discover me to my master, and many other objections 
presented themselves. But Mr. Collins was not to be 
refused, and 1 finally consented to go out for three 
months, supposing I should in that length of time come 
to the end of my story and my consequent usefulness. " ") 

Here opened for me a new life a life for which I had / 
had no preparation. Mr. Collins used to say when intro- / 
ducing me to an audience, I was a " graduate from the 
peculiar institution, with my diploma written on my back. 19 
The three years of my freedom had been spent in the 
hard school of adversity. My hands seemed to be fur- 
nished with something like a leather coating, and I had 
marked out for myself a life of rough labor, suited to the 



268 AS A CHATTEL. 

hardness of my hands, as a means of supporting my 
family and rearing my children. 

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 
millions pining 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, 
was continually offered for its early triumph. 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 found, however, full 
soon that my enthusiasm had been extravagant, that 
hardships and dangers were not all over, and that the 
life now before me had its shadows also, as well as its 
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 " chat- 
tel " a "thing" a piece of southern property the 
chairman assuring the audience that it could speak. 
Fugitive slaves were rare then, and as a fugitive slave 
lecturer, I had the advantage of being a " bran new fact" 
the first one out. Up to that time, a colored man was 
deemed a fool who confessed himself a runaway slave, 



GIVES HIS HISTORY. 269 

not only because of the danger to which he exposed him- 
self 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 in thus expos- 
ing and degrading myself. The only precaution I took 
at the beginning, to prevent Master Thomas from know- 
ing where I was and what I was about, was the withhold-, 
ing 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 a simple' narrative. " Give 
us the facts," said Collins, " we will take care of the 
philosophy." Just here arose some eanbarrassment. 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 air 
together too mechanical for my nature. " Tell your 
story, Frederick," would whisper my revered friend, Mr. 
Garrison, as I stepped upon the platform. I could not 
always follow the injunction, for I was now reading and 
thinking. New views of the subject were being 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 slave- 
holding villainy long enough for a circumstantial state- 
ment of the facts which I felt almost sure 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 your- 
self," said Collins, " and tell your story." " Better have 
a little of the plantation speech than not," was said 



270 HIS STORY DOUBTED. 

to me ; " it is 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, nor how he got away ; 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 thus far in the prudence 
of keeping them private ; but going down the aisles 
of the churches in which my meetings were held, and 
hearing the outspoken Yankees repeatedly saying, " He's 
never been a slave, I'll warrant you," 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 fugi- 
tive. 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. 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 obtain- 
ment 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 



FEARS OP RECAPTURE. 271 

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 re-enslavement 
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 desire to betray me could easily do so by simply tracing 
my whereabouts through the anti-slavery journals, for my 
movements and meetings were made through these in ad- 
vance. My 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 that the overcoming of one difficulty only 
opened the way for another, and that though I had 
reached a free State, and had attained a position for , 
public usefulness, I was still under the liability of losing - 
all I had gained. 



CHAPTER IV. 

RECOLLECTIONS OF OLD FRIENDS. 

Work in Rhode Island Dorr War Recollections of old friends 
Further labors in Rhode Island and elsewhere in New England. 

IN the State of Rhode Island, under the leadership of 
Thomas W. Dorr, an effort was made in 1841 to set 
aside the old colonial charter, under which that State had 
lived and flourished since the Revolution, and to replace 
it with a new constitution having such improvements as it 
was thought that time and experience had shown to be 
wise and necessary. This new constitution was especially 
framed to enlarge the basis of representation so far as 
the white people of the State were concerned to abolish 
an odious property qualification and to confine the right 
of suffrage to white male citizens only. Mr. Dorr was 
himself a well-meaning man, and, after his fashion, a man 
of broad and progressive views quite in advance of 
the party with which he acted. To gain their support he 
consented to this restriction to a class a right which 
ought to be enjoyed by all citizens. In this he consulted 
policy rather than right, and at last shared the fate of all 
compromisers and trimmers, for he was disastrously de- 
feated. The prescriptive features of his constitution 
shocked the sense of right and roused the moral indigna- 
tion of the abolitionists of the State, a class which would 
otherwise have gladly co-operated with him, at the same 
time that it did nothing to win support from the conserv- 
ative class which clung to the old charter. Anti-slavery 
men wanted a new constitution, but they did not want a 

(272) 



ABOLITIONISTS IN RHODE ISLAND. 273 

defective instrument which required reform at the start. 
The result was that such men a3 William M. Chase, 
Thomas Davis, George L. Clark, Asa Fairbanks, Alphonso 
Janes, and others of Providence, the Perry brothers 
of Westerly, John Brown and C. C. Eldridge of East 
Greenwich, Daniel Mitchell. William Adams, and Robert 
Shove of Pawtucket, Peleg Clark, Caleb Kelton, G. J. 
Adams, and the Anthonys and Goulds of Coventry and 
vicinity, Edward Harris of Woonsocket, and other aboli- 
tionists of the State, decided that the time had come 
when the people of Rhode Island might be taught a more 
comprehensive gospel of human rights than had gotten 
itself into this Dorr constitution. The public mind was 
awake, and one class of its people at least was ready to 
work with us to the extent of seeking to defeat the pro- 
posed constitution, though their reasons for such work 
were far different from ours. Stephen S. Foster, Parker 
Pillsbury, Abby Kelley, James Monroe, and myself were 
called into the State to advocate equal rights as against 
this narrow and prescriptive constitution. The work to 
which we were invited was not free from difficulty. The 
majority of the people were evidently with the new con- 
stitution ; even the word white in it chimed well with the 
popular prejudice against the colored race, and at the 
first helped to make the movement popular. On the 
other hand, all the arguments which the Dorr men could 
urge against a property qualification for suffrage were 
equally cogent against a color qualification, and this was 
our advantage. But the contest was intensely bitter and 
exciting. We were as usual denounced as intermeddlers 
(carpet-bagger had not come into use at that time), and 
were told to mind our own business, and the like, a mode 
of defense common to men when called to account for 
mean and discreditable conduct. Stephen S. Foster, 
Parker Pillsbury, and the rest of us were not the kind of 



274 A SIMPLE QUAKER BEAUTY. 

men to be ordered off by that sort of opposition. We 
cared nothing for the Dorr party on the one hand, nor 
the " law and order party " on the other. What we 
wanted, and what we labored to obtain, was a constitution 
free from the narrow, selfish, and senseless limitation of 
the word white. Naturally enough, when we said a strong 
and striking word against the Dorr Constitution the con- 
servatives were pleased and applauded, while the Dorr 
men were disgusted and indignant. Foster and Pills- 
bury were like the rest of us, young, strong, and at their 
best in this contest. The splendid vehemence of the 
one, and the weird and terrible denunciations of the 
other, never failed to stir up mobocratic wrath wherever 
they spoke. Foster, especially, was effective in this line. 
His theory was that he must make converts or mobs. 
If neither came he charged- it either to his want of skill 
or his unfaithfulness. I was much with Mr. Foster dur- 
ing the tour in Rhode Island, and though at times he 
seemed to me extravagant and needlessly offensive in his 
manner of presenting his ideas, yet take him for all in all, 
he was one of the most impressive advocates the cause of 
the American slave ever had. No white man ever made the 
black man's cause more completely his own. Abby Kel- 
ley, since Abby Kelley Foster, was perhaps the most suc- 
cessful of any of us. Her youth and simple Quaker 
beauty, combined with her wonderful earnestness, her 
large knowledge and great logical power, bore down all 
opposition to the end, wherever she spoke, though she 
was before pelted with foul eggs, and no less foul words, 
from the noisy mobs which attended us. 

Monroe and I were less aggressive than either of our 
co-workers, and of course did not provoke the same 
resistance. He, at least, had the eloquence that charms, 
and the skill that disarms. I think that our labors in 
Rhode Island during this Dorr excitement did more to 



COLORED MEN PROSCRIBED. 275 

abolitionize the State than any previous or subsequent 
work. It was the " tide," " taken at the flood." One 
effect of those labors was to induce the old " Law and 
Order" party, when it set about making its new constitu- 
tion, to avoid the narrow folly of the Dorrites, and make 
a constitution which should not abridge any man's rights 
on account of race or color. Such a constitution was finally 
adopted. 

Owing perhaps to my efficiency in this campaign I 
was for awhile employed in further labors in Rhode 
Island by the State Anti-Slavery Society, and made there 
many friends to my cause as well as to myself. As a 
class the abolitionists of this State partook of the spirit 
of its founder. They had their own opinions, were inde- 
pendent, and called no man master. I have reason to 
remember them most gratefully. They received me as a 
in air arid a brother, when I was new from the house of 
bondage, and had few of the graces derived from free and 
refined society. They took me with earnest hand to 
their homes and hearths, and made me feel that though 
I wore the burnished livery of the sun I was still a coun- 
tryman and kinsman of whom they were never ashamed. 
I can never forget the Clarks, Keltons, Chases, Browns, 
Adams, Greenes, Sissons, Eldredges, Mitchells, Shoves, 
Anthonys, Applins, Janes, Goulds, Fairbanks, and many 
others. 

While thus remembering the noble anti-slavery men 
and women of Rhode Island, I do not forget that I 
suffered much rough usage within her borders. It was 
like all the northern States at that time, under the 
influence of slave power, and often showed a prescriptive 
and persecuting spirit, especially upon its railways, steam- 
boats, and in its public houses. The Stonington route was 
a " hard road " for a colored man " to travel " in that day. 
I was several times dragged from the cars for the crime 



276 TRUE MEN. 

of being colored. On the Sound between New York and 
Stonington, there were the same proscriptions which I 
have before named as enforced on the steamboats running 
between New York and Newport. No colored man was 
allowed abaft the wheel, and in all seasons of the year, 
in heat or cold, wet or dry, the deck was his only place. 
If I would lie down at night I must do so. upon the freight 
on deck, and this in cold weather was not a very com- 
fortable bed. When traveling in company with my white 
friends I always urged them to leave me and go into the 
cabin and take their comfortable births. I saw no reason 
why they should be miserable because I was. Some of 
them took my advice very readily. I confess, however, 
that while I was entirely honest in urging them to go, 
and saw no principle that should bind them to stay and 
suffer with me, I always felt a little nearer to those who 
did not take my advice and persisted in sharing my hard- 
ships with me. 

There is something in the world above fixed rules and 
the logic of right and wrong, and there is some founda- 
tion for recognizing works, which may be called works of 
supererogation. Wendell Phillips, James Monroe, and 
William White, were always dear to me for their nice 
feeling at this point. I have known James 'Monroe to 
pull his coat about him and crawl upon the cotton bales 
between decks and pass the night with me, without a 
murmur. Wendell Phillips would never go into a first- 
class car while I was forced into what was called the 
Jim Crow car. True men they were, who could accept 
welcome at no man's table where I was refused. I speak 
of these gentlemen, not as singular or exceptional 
cases, but as representatives of a large class of the early 
workers for the abolition of slavery. As a general rule 
there was little diflirnlty in obtaining suitable places in 
New England after 1840, where I could plead the cause 



HARTFORD CLOSED ITS DOORS. 277 

of my people. The abolitionists had passsd the Red Sea 
of mobs, and had conquered the right to a respectful 
hearing. I, however, found several towns in which the 
people closed their doors and refused to entertain the 
subject. Notably among these was Hartford, Conn., and 
Graf ton, Mass. In the former place Messrs. Garrison, 
Hudson, Foster, Abby Kelley, and myself determined to 
hold our meetings under the open sky, which we did in a 
little court under the eaves of the " sanctuary " ministered 
unto by the Rev. Dr. Hawes, with much satisfaction to 
ourselves, and I think with advantage to our cause. In 
Graf ton I was alone, and there was neither house, hall, 
church, nor market-place in which I could speak to the 
people ; but, determined to speak, I went to the hotel and 
borrowed a dinner-bell, with which in hand I passed 
through the principal streets, ringing the bell and crying 
out, " Notice ! Frederick Douglass, recently a slave, will 
lecture on American Slavery, 011 Grafton Common, this 
evening, at 7 o'clock. Those who would like to hear of 
the workings of slavery by one of the slaves are respect- 
fully invited to attend." This notice brought out a large 
audience, after which the largest church in town was 
open to me. Only in one instance was I compelled to 
pursue this course thereafter, and that was in Manches- 
ter, X. H., and my labors there were followed by similar 
results. When people found that I would be heard, they 
saw it was the part of wisdom to open the way for me. 

My treatment in the use of public conveyances about 
these times was extremely rough, especially on the 
" Eastern Railroad, from Boston to Portland." On that 
road, as on many others, there was a mean, dirty, 
and uncomfortable car set apart for colored travelers 
called the " Jim Crow " car. Regarding this as the fruit 
of slaveholding prejudice, and being determined to fight 
the spirit of slavery wherever I might find it, I resolved 



278 EJECTED FROM RAILROAD CAR. 

to avoid this car, though it sometimes required some 
courage to do so. The colored people generally accepted 
the situation, and complained of me as making matters 
worse rather than better by refusing to submit to this 
proscription. I, however, persisted, and sometimes was 
soundly beaten by conductor and brakeman. On one oc- 
casion six of these " fellows of the baser sort," under the 
direction of the conductor, set out to eject me from 
my seat. As usual, I had purchased a first-class ticket 
and paid the required sum for it, and on the requirement 
of the conductor to leave refused to do so, when he called 
on these men to "snake me out." They attempted to 
obey with an air which plainly told me they relished the 
job. They however found me much attached to my seat, 
and in removing me I tore away two or three of the sur- 
rounding ones, on which I held with a firm grasp, and did 
the car no service in some other respects. I was strong 
and muscular, and the seats were not then so firmly 
attached or of as solid make as now. The result was 
that Stephen A. Chase, superintendent of the road, 
ordered all passenger trains to pass through Lynn, where 
I then lived, without stopping. This was a great incon- 
venience to the people, large numbers of whom did busi- 
ness in Boston and at other points on the road. Led on, 
however, by James N. Buffum, Jonathan Buffum, Chris- 
topher Robinson, William Bassett, and others, the people 
of Lynn stood bravely by me, and denounced the railroad 
management in emphatic terms. Mr. Chase made reply 
that a railroad corporation was neither a religious nor re- 
formatory body ; that the road was run for the accommo- 
dation of the public, and that it required the exclusion of 
colored people from its cars. With an air of triumph he 
told us that we ought not to expect a railroad company to 
be better than the evangelical church, and that until the 
churches abolished the " negro pew " we ought not 



A BETTER PRACTICE. 279 

to expect the railroad company to abolish the negro car. 
This argument was certainly good enough as against the 
church, but good for nothing as against the demands 
of justice and equality. My old and dear friend J. N. 
Buffum made a point against the company that they 
"often allowed dogs and monkeys to ride in first-class 
cars, and yet excluded a man like Frederick Douglass ! " 
In a very few years this barbarous practice was put away, 
and I think there have been no instances of such exclu- 
sion during the past thirty years ; and colored people 
now, everywhere in New England, ride upon equal terms 
with other passengers. 
12 






CHAPTER Y. 

ONE HUNDRED CONVENTIONS. 

Anti-slavery conventions held in parts of New England and in some 
of the Middle and Western States Mobs Incidents, etc. 

THE year 1843 was one of remarkable anti-slavery ac- 
tivity. The New England Anti-Slavery Society, at 
its' annual meeting held in the spring of that year, resolved, 
under the auspices of Mr. Garrison and his friends, to hold 
a series of one hundred conventions. The territory embraced 
in this plan for creating anti-slavery sentiment included 
New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Ohio, Indiana, and 
Pennsylvania. I had the honor to be chosen one of the 
agents to assist in these proposed conventions, and I never 
entered upon any work with more heart and hope. All 
that the American people needed, I thought, was light. 
Could they know slavery as I knew it, they would hasten 
to the work of its extinction. The corps of speakers who 
were to be associated with me in carrying on these con- 
ventions was Messrs. George Bradburn, John A. Collins, 
James Monroe, William A. White, Charles L. Remond, and 
Sydney Howard Gay. They were all masters of the sub- 
ject, and some of them able and eloquent orators. It was 
a piece of great good fortune to me, only a few years 
from slavery as .1 was, to be brought into contact with 
such men. It was a real campaign, and required nearly 
six months for its accomplishment. 

Those who only know the State of Vermont as it is to- 
day can hardly understand, and must wonder that 
there was need for anti-slavery effort within its borders 
forty years ago. Our first convention was held in Middlc- 

(280) 



FORTY YEARS AGO. 281 

bury, its chief seat of learning and the home of William 
Slade, who was for years the co-worker with John Qnincy 
Adams in Congress ; and yet in this town the opposition 
to our anti-slavery convention was intensely bitter and 
violent. The only man of note in the town whom I now 
remember as giving us sympathy or welcome was Mr. 
Edward Barber, who was a man of courage as well as 
ability, and did his best to make our convention a success. 
In advance of our arrival the college students had very 
industriously and mischievously placarded the town with 
violent aspersions of our characters and the grossest mis- 
representations of our principles, measures, and objects. 
I was described as an escaped convict from the State 
prison, and the other speakers were assailed not less 
slanderously. Few people attended our meeting, and ap- 
parently little was accomplished by it. In the neighbor- 
ing town of Ferrisburgh the case was different and more 
favorable. The way had been prepared for us by such 
stalwart anti-slavery workers as Orson S. Murray, Charles 
C. Burleigh, Rowland T. Robinson, and others. Upon 
the whole, however, the several towns visited showed that 
Vermont was surprisingly under the influence of the slave 
power. Her proud boast that no slave had ever been 
delivered up to his master within her borders did not 
hinder her hatred to anfa'-slavery. What was true of the 
Green Mountain State in this respect was most discourag- 
ingly true of New York, the State next visited. All 
along the Erie canal, from Albany to Buffalo, there was 
apathy, indifference, aversion, and sometimes mobocratic 
spirit evinced. Even Syracuse, afterward the home of 
the humane Samuel J. May and the scene of the " Jerry 
rescue," jvhere Gerrit Smith, Beriah Greene, William 
Goodell, Alvin Stewart, and other able men since taught 
their noblest lessons, would not at that time' furnish 
us with church, market, house, or hall in which to hold 



282 EECEPTION IN SYRACUSE. 

our meetings. Discovering this state of things, some of 
our number were disposed to turn our backs upon the town 
and shake its dust from our feet, but of these, I am glad 
to say, I was not one. I had somewhere read of a com- 
mand to go into the hedges and highways and compel 
men to come in. Mr. Stephen Smith, under whose hos- 
pitable roof we were made at home, thought as I did. It 
would be easy to silence anti-slavery agitation if refusing 
its agents the use of halls and churches could affect that 
result. The house of our friend Smith stood on the 
southwest corner of the park, which was well covered 
with young trees too small to furnish shade or shelter, but 
better than none. Taking my stand under a small tree 
in the southeast corner of this park I began to speak in 
the morning to an audience of five persons, and before tho 
close of my afternoon meeting I had before me not less 
than five hundred. In the evening I was waited upoit by 
officers of the Congregational church and tendered the 
use of an old wooden building which they had deserted for 
a better, but still owned, and here our convention was 
continued during three days. I believe there has been no 
trouble to find places in Syracuse in which to hold anti- 
slavery meetings since. I never go there without en- 
deavoring to see that tree, which, like the cause it 
sheltered, has grown large and strong and imposing. 

I believe my first offense against our Anti-Slavery 
Israel was committed during these Syracuse meetings. 
It was on this wise : Our general agent, John A. Collins, 
had recently returned from England full of communistic 
ideas, which ideas would do away 'with individual prop- 
erty, and have all things in common. He had arranged 
a corps of speakers of his communistic persuasion, con- 
sisting of John 0. Wattles, Nathaniel Whiting, and John 
Orvis, to~ follow our anti-slavery conventions, and while 
our meeting was in progress in Syracuse, a meeting, as 



OPPOSES COMMUNISTS. 283 

the reader will observe, obtained under much difficulty, 
Mr. Collins came in with his new friends and doctrines, 
and proposed to adjourn our anti-slavery discussions and 
take up the subject of communism. To this I ventured 
to object. I held that it was imposing an additional 
burden of unpopularity on our cause, and an act of bad 
faith with the people, who paid the salary of Mr. Collins, 
and were responsible for these hundred conventions. 
Strange to say, my course in this matter did not meet' 
the approval of Mrs. M. W. Chapman, an influential mem- 
ber of the board of managers of the Massachusetts Anti- 
Slavery Society, and called out a sharp reprimand from 
her, for insubordination to my superiors. This was a 
strange and distressing revelation to me, and one of 
which I was not soon relieved. I thought I had only 
done my duty, and I think so still. The chief reason for 
the reprimand was the use which the liberty party-papers 
would make of my seeming rebellion against the com- 
manders of our anti-slavery army. 

In the growing city of Rochester we had in every way 
a better reception. Abolitionists of all shades of opinion 
were broad enough to give the Garrisonians (for such we 
were) a hearing. Samuel D. Porter and the 'Avery 
family, though they belonged to the Gerrit Smith, Myron 
Holly, and William Goodell school, were not so narrow 
as to refuse us the use of their church for the convention. 
They heard our moral suasion arguments, and in a manly 
way met us in debate. We were opposed to carrying the 
anti-slavery cause to the ballot-box, and they believed in 
carrying it there. They looked at slavery as a creature 
of law ; we regarded it as a creature of public opinion. 
It is surprising how small the difference appears as I 
look back to it, over the space of forty years ; yet at the 
time of it this difference was immense. 

During our stay at Rochester we were hospitably enter- 



284 AT ROCHESTER. 

tained by Isaac and Amy Post, two people of all-abound- 
ing benevolence, the truest and best of Long Island and 
Elias Hicks Quakers. They were not more amiable than 
brave, for they never seemed to ask, What will the world 
say ? but walked straight forward in what seemed to them 
the line of duty, please or offend whomsoever it might. 
Many a poor fugitive slave found shelter under their roof 
when such shelter was hard to find elsewhere, and I men- 
tion them here in the warmth and fullness of earnest 
gratitude. 

Pleased with our success in Rochester, we that is, Mr. 
Bradburn and myself made our way to Buffalo, then a 
rising city of steamboats, bustle, and business. Buffalo 
was too busy to attend to such matters as we had in 
hand. Our friend, Mr. Marsh, had been able to secure 
for our convention only an old dilapidated and deserted 
room, formerly used as a post-office. We went at the 
time appointed, and found seated a few cabmen in their 
coarse, every-day clothes, whips in hand, while their 
teams were standing on the street waiting for a job. 
Friend Bradburn looked around upon this unpromising 
audience, and turned upon his heel, saying he would not 
speak to " such a set of ragamuffins," and took the first 
steamer to Cleveland, the home of his brother Charles, 
and left me to "do" Buffalo alone. For nearly a week 
I spoke every day in this old post-office to audiences 
constantly increasing in numbers and respectability, till 
the Baptist church was thrown open to me ; and when 
this became too small I went on Sunday into the open 
Park and addressed an assembly of four or five thousand 
persons. After this my colored friends, Charles L. Re- 
mond, Henry Highland Garnett, Theodore S. Wright, 
Amos G. Beaman, Charles M. Ray, and other well-known 
colored men held a convention here, and then Rcmond 
and myself left for our next meeting in Clinton county, 




FIGHTING THE MOB IN INDIANA. 



IN INDIANA. 287 

Ohio. This was held under a great shed, built by the 
abolitionists, of whom Dr. Abram Brook and Valentine 
Nicholson were the most noted, for this special purpose. 
Thousands gathered here and were addressed by Brad- 
burn, White, Monroe, Remond, Gay, and myself. The 
influence of this meeting was deep and wide-spread. It 
would' be tedious to tell of all, or a small part of all that 
was interesting and illustrative of the difficulties encoun- 
tered by the early advocates of anti-slavery in connection 
with this campaign, and hence I leave this part of it 
at once. 

From Ohio we divided our forces and went into Indi- 
ana. At our first meeting we were mobbed, and some of 
us got our good clothes spoiled by evil-smelling eggs. 
This was at Richmond, where Henry Clay had been 
recently invited to the high seat of the Quaker meeting- 
house just after his gross abuse of Mr. Mendenhall, 
because of his presenting him a respectful petition, ask- 
ing him to emancipate his slaves. At Pendleton this 
niobocratic spirit was even more pronounced. It was 
found impossible to obtain a building in which to hold 
our convention, and our friends, Dr. Fussell and others, 
erected a platform in the woods, where quite a large 
audience assembled. Mr. Bradburn, Mr. White, and my- 
self were in attendance. As soon as we began to speak 
a mob of about sixty of the roughest characters I ever 
looked upon ordered us, through its leaders, to " be 
silent," threatening us, if we were not, with violence. 
We attempted to dissuade them, but they had not come 
to parley but to fight, and were well armed. They tore 
down the platform on which we stood, assaulted Mr. 
White and knocked out several of his teeth, dealt a 
heavy blow on William A. White, striking him on the 
back part of the head, badly cutting his scalp and felling 
him to thp ground. Undertaking to fight my way through 



288 HIS MISSIONARY COMPANIONS. 

the crowd with a stick which I caught up in the mele*e, 
I attracted the fury of the mob, which laid me prostrate 
on the ground under a torrent of blows. Leaving me 
thus, with my right hand broken, and in a state of uncon- 
sciousness, the mobocrats hastily mounted their horses 
and rode to Andersonville, where most of them resided. 
I was soon raised up and revived by Neal Hardy, a kind- 
hearted member of the Society of Friends, and carried by 
him in his wagon 'about three miles in the country to his 
home, where I was tenderly nursed and bandaged by 
good Mrs. Hardy till I was again on my feet ; but, as the 
bones broken were not properly set, my hand has never 
recovered its natural strength and dexterity. We 
lingered long in Indiana, and the good effects of our 
labors there are felt at this day. I have lately visited 
Pendleton, now one of the best republican towns in the 
State, and looked again upon the spot where I was beaten 
down, and have again taken by the hand some of the 
witnesses of that scene, amongst whom was the kind, 
good lady Mrs. Hardy who, so like the good Sama- 
ritan of old, bound up my wounds, and cared for me so 
kindly. A complete history of these hundred conventions 
would fill a volume far larger than the one in which this 
simple reference is to find a place. It would be a grate- 
ful duty to speak of the noble young men who forsook 
ease and pleasure, as did White, Gay, and Monroe, and 
endured all manner of privations in the cause of the en- 
slaved and down-trodden of my race. Gay, Monroe, and 
myself are the only ones who participated as agents in 
the one hundred conventions who now survive. Mr. Mon- 
roe was for many years consul to Brazil, and has since 
been a faithful member of Congress from the Oberlin 
District, Ohio, and lias filled other important positions in 
his State. Mr. Gay was managing editor of the National 
Anti-Slavery Standard, and afterwards of the New York 
Tribune, and still later of the New York Evening Post. 



CHAPTER VI. 

IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Danger to be averted A refuge sought abroad Voyage on the steam- 
ship Cambria Refusal of first-class passage Attractions of the 
forecastle-deck Hutchinson family Invited to make a speech 
Southerners feel insulted Captain threatens to put them in irons 
Experiences abroad Attentions received Impressions of differ- 
ent members of Parliament and of other public men Contrast 
with life in America Kindness of friends Their purchase of my 
person and the gift of the same to myself My return. 

AS I have before intimated, the publishing of my 
" Narrative " was regarded by my friends with 
mingled feelings of satisfaction and apprehension. They 
were glad to have the doubts and insinuations which the 
advocates and apologists of slavery had made against me 
proved to the world to be false, but they had many fears 
lest this very proof would endanger my safety, and make 
it necessary for me to leave a position which in a signal 
manner had opened before me, and one in which I had 
thus far been efficient in assisting to arouse the moral 
sentiment of the community against a system which had 
deprived me, in common with my fellow-slaves, of all the 
attributes of manhood. 

I became myself painfully alive to the liability which 
surrounded me, and which might at any moment scatter 
all my proud hopes and return me to a doom worse than 
death. It was thus I was led to seek a refuge in mon- 
archical England from the dangers of republican slavery. 
A rude, uncultivated fugitive slave, I was driven to that 
country to which American young gentlemen go to 
increase their stock of knowledge, to seek pleasure, and 

(289) 



290 THE HUTCHINSON FAMILY. 

to have their rough democratic manners softened by con- 
tact with English aristocratic refinement. 

My friend James N. Buffum of Lynn, Mass., who was to 
accompany me, applied on board the steamer Cambria of 
the Cnnard line for tickets, and was told that I could not 
be received as a cabin passenger. American prejudice 
against color had triumphed over British liberality and 
civilization, and had erected a color test as condition for 
crossing the sea in the cabin of a British vessel. 

The insult was keenly felt by my white friends, but to 
\ me such insults were so frequent and expected that it was 
of no great consequence whether I went in the cabin or in 
the steerage. Moreover, I felt that if I could not go 
in the first cabin, first cabin passengers could come in the 
second cabin, and in this thought I was not mistaken, as 
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 as 
the cabin itself. The Hutchinson family from New 
Hampshire the sweet singers of anti-slavery and the 
" good time coming " were fellow-passengers, and often 
came to my rude forecastle-deck and sang their sweetest 
songs, making the place eloquent with music and alive 
with spirited conversation. They not only visited me, 
but invited me to visit them, and in two or three 
days after leaving Boston one part of the ship was about 
as free to me as another. My visits there, however, were 
but seldom. I preferred to live within my privileges and* 
keep upon my own premises. This course was quite 
as much in accord with good policy as with my own feel- 
ings. The effect was that with the majority of the pas- 
sengers all color distinctions were iiun^ to the winds, and 
I found myself treated with every mark of respect from the 
beginning to the end of the voyage, except in one single 



HIS RECEPTION IN ENGLAND. 291 

instance, and in that I came near being mobbed for com- 
plying with an invitation given me by the passengers and 
the captain of the Cambria to deliver a lecture on slavery. 
There were several young men, passengers from Georgia 
and New Orleans, and they were pleased to regard my lec- 
ture 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 
they would probably, under the inspiration of slavery and 
brandy, have attempted to put their threats into execution. 
I have no space to describe this scene, although its tragic 
and comic features are well worth describing. An end 
was put to the melee by the captain's call to the ship's 
company to put the salt-water mobocrats in irons, at 
which determined order the gentlemen of the lash scam- 
pered, and for the remainder of the voyage conducted 
themselves very decorously. 

This incident of the voyage brought me within two 
days after landing at Liverpool before the British public. 
The gentlemen so promptly withheld in their attempted 
violence toward me flew to the press to -justify their con- 
duct and to denounce me as a worthless and insolent 
negro. This course w r as even less wise than the conduct 
it was intended to sustain, for, besides awakening some- 
thing 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. 

My visit to England did much for me every way. Not 
the least among the many advantages derived from it was 
in the opportunity it afforded me of becoming acquainted 
with educated people and of seeing and hearing many of 
the most distinguished men of that country. My friend Mr. 
Wendell Phillips, knowing something of my appreciation 
of orators and oratory, had said to me before leaving 



292 COBDEN AND BRIGHT. 

Boston : " Although Americans are generally better 
speakers than Englishmen, you will find in England indi- 
vidual orators superior to the best of ours." I do not 
know that Mr. Phillips was quite just to himself in this 
remark, for I found few, if any, superior to him in 
the gift of speech. When I went to England that country 
was in the midst of a tremendous agitation. The people 
were divided by two great questions of " Repeal " the 
repeal of the corn laws and the repeal of the union 
between England and Ireland. 

Debate ran high in Parliament and among the people 
everywhere, especially concerning the corn laws. Two 
powerful interests of the country confronted each other 
one venerable from age, and the other young, stalwart, 
and growing. Both strove for ascendancy. Conservatism 
united for retaining the corn laws, while the rising power 
of commerce and manufactures demanded repeal. It was 
interest against interest, but something more and deeper, 
for while there was aggrandizement of the landed aristoc- 
racy on the one side, there was famine and pestilence on 
the other. Of the anti-corn-law movement Richard 
Cobden and John Bright, both then members of Parlia- 
ment, were the leaders. They were the rising statesmen 
of England, and possessed a very friendly disposition 
toward America. Mr. Bright, who is now Right Honor- 
able John Bright, and occupies a high place in the British 
cabinet, was friendly to the loyal and progressive spirit 
which abolished our slavery and saved our country from 
dismemberment. I have seen and heard both of these 
men, and, if I may be allowed so much egotism, I may say 
I was acquainted with both of them. I was, besides, 
a welcome guest at the house of Mr. Bright in Rochdale, 
and treated as a friend and brother among his brothers 
and sisters. Messrs. Cobden and Bright were well- 
matched leaders. One was in large measure the comple- 



THEIR APPEARANCE AS ORATORS. 293 

raent of the other. They were spoken of usually as 
Cobden and Bright, but there was no reason, except that 
Cobden was the elder of the two, why their names might 
not have been reversed. 

They were about equally fitted for their respective parts 
in the great movement of which they were the distin- 
guished leaders, and neither was likely to encroach upon, 
the work of the other. The contrast was quite marked in 
their persons as well as in their oratory. The powerful 
speeches of the one, as they traveled together over the 
country, heightened the effect of the speeches of the 
other, so that their difference was about as effective for 
good as was their agreement. Mr. Cobden for an 
Englishman was lean, tall, and slightly sallow, and 
might have been taken for an American or Frenchman. 
Mr. Bright was, in the broadest sense, an Englishman, 
abounding in all the physical perfections peculiar to his 
countrymen full, round, and ruddy. Cobden had dark 
eyes and hair, a well-formed head high above his shoul- 
ders, and, when sitting quiet, had a look of sadness and 
fatigue. In the House of Commons he often sat with one 
hand supporting his head. Bright appeared the very op- 
posite in this and other respects. His eyes were blue, his 
hair light, his head massive and firmly set upon his 
shoulders, suggesting immense energy and determination.. 
In his oratory Mr. Cobden was cool, candid, deliberate, 
straightforward, yet at times slightly hesitating. Bright, 
on the other hand, was fervid, fluent, rapid ; always ready 
in thought or word. Mr. Cobden was full of facts and 
figures, dealing in statistics by the hour. Mr. Bright was 
full of wit, knowledge, and pathos, and possessed amazing 
power of expression. One spoke to the cold, calculating 
side of the British nation, which asks " if the new 
idea will pay ?" The other spoke to the infinite side of 
human nature the side which asks, first of all, " Is 



294 THE CORN-LAW DECISIONS. 

it right ? is it just ? is it humane ? " Wherever these 
two great men appeared the people assembled in thou- 
sands. They could, at an hour's notice, pack the Town 
Hall of Birmingham, which would hold seven thousand 
persons, or the Free Trade Hall in Manchester, and Covent 
Garden theater, London, each of which was capable of 
holding eight thousand. 

One of the first attentions shown me by these gentle- 
men was to make me welcome at the Free-Trade Club, in 
London. 

I was not long in England before a crisis was reached 
in the anti-corn-law movement. The announcement that 
Sir Robert Peel, then prime minister of England, had be- 
come a convert to the views of Messrs. Cobden and 
Bright, came upon the country with startling effect, and 
formed the turning-point in the anti-corn-law question. 
Sir Robert had been the strong defense of the landed 
aristocracy of England, and his defection left them with- 
out a competent leader ; and just here came the opportu- 
nity for Mr. Benjamin Disraeli, the Hebrew, since Lord 
Beaconsfield. To him it was in public affairs the " tide 
which led on to fortune." With a bitterness unsurpassed 
he had been denounced, by reason of his being a Jew, as a 
lineal descendant of the thief on the cross. But now his 
time had come, and he was not the man to permit 
it to pass unimproved. For the first time, it seems, he 
conceived the idea of placing himself at the head of a great 
party, and thus become the chief defender of the landed 
aristocracy. The way was plain. He was to transcend 
all others in effective denunciation of Sir Robert Peel, and 
surpass all others in zeal. His ability was equal to 
the situation, and the world knows the result of his ambi- 
tion. I watched him narrowly when I saw him in the 
House of Commons, but I saw and heard nothing there 
that foreshadowed the immense space he at last came to 



DISRAELI AND O'CONNELL. 295 

fill in the mind of his country and the world. He had 
nothing of the grace and warmth of Peel in debate, and 
his speeches were better in print than when listened to ; 
yet when he spoke all eyes were fixed and all ears attent. 
Despite all his ability and power, however, as the defend- 
er of the landed interests of England, his cause was 
already lost. The increasing power of the anti-corn-law 
league, the burden of the tax upon bread, the cry of dis- 
tress coming from famine-stricken Ireland, and the ad- 
hesion of Peel to the views of Cobden and Bright, made 
the repeal of the corn laws speedy and certain. 

The repeal of the union between England and Ireland 
was not so fortunate. It is still, under one name or an- 
other, the cherished hope and inspiration of her sons. It 
stands little better or stronger than it did six and thirty 
years ago, when its greatest advocate, Daniel O'Connell, 
welcomed me to Ireland and to " Conciliation Hall," and 
where I first had a specimen of his truly wondrous elo- 
quence. Until I heard this man I had thought that the 
story of his oratory and power were greatly exaggerated. 
I did not see how a man could speak to twenty or thirty 
thousand people at one time and be heard by any consid- 
erable portion of them, but the mystery was solved when 
I saw his vast person and heard his musical voice. His 
eloquence came down upon the vast assembly like a sum- 
mer thunder-shower upon a dusty road. He. could stir 
the multitude at will to a tempest of wrath or reduce it to 
the silence with which a mother leaves the cradle-side of 
her sleeping babe. Such tenderness, such pathos, such 
world-embracing love ! and, on the other hand, such in- 
dignation, such fiery and thunderous denunciation, such 
wit and humor, I never heard surpassed, if equaled, at home 
or abroad. He held Ireland within the grasp of his 
strong hand, and could lead it whithersoever he would, 
for Ireland believed in him and loved him as she has 



296 O. A. BROWNSON. 

loved and believed in no leader since. In Dublin, when 
he had been absent from that city a few weeks, I saw him 
followed through Sackville street by a multitude of little 
boys and girls, shouting in loving accents, " There 
goes Dan ! there goes Dan ! " while he looked at the 
ragged and shoeless crowd with the kindly air of a loving 
parent returning to his gleeful children. He was called 
" The Liberator," and not without cause, for, though he 
failed to effect the repeal of the union between England 
and Ireland, he fought out the battle of Catholic eman- 
cipation, and was clearly the friend of liberty the world 
over. In introducing me to an immense audience in 
Conciliation Hall he playfully called me the " Black O'Con- 
nell of the United States." Nor did he let the occasion 
pass without his usual word of denunciation of our slave 
system. 0. A. Brownson had then recently become a 
Catholic, and taking advantage of his new Catholic audi- 
ence in "Brownson's Review" had charged O'Connell 
with attacking American institutions. In reply Mr. 
O'Connell said : " I am charged with attacking American 
institutions, as slavery is called ; I am not ashamed 
of this attack. My sympathy is not confined to the nar- 
row limits of my own green Ireland ; my spirit walks 
abroad upon sea and land, and wherever there is oppres- 
sion I hate the oppressor, and wherever the tyrant rears 
his head I will deal my bolts upon it, and wherever there 
is sorrow and suffering, there is my spirit to succor and 
relieve." No transatlantic statesman bore a testimony, 
more marked and telling against the crime and curse of 
slavery than did Daniel O'Connell. He would shake the 
hand of no slaveholder, nor allow himself to be introduced 
to one if he knew him to be such. When the friends of 
repeal in the Southern States sent him money with which 
to carry on his work, he, with ineffable scorn, refused the 
bribe and sent back what he considered the blood-stained 



LORD BROUGHAM. 297 

offering, saying he would " never purchase the freedom of 
Ireland with the price of slaves." 

It was not long after my seeing Mr. O'Connell that his 
health broke down, and his career ended in death. I 
felt that a great champion of freedom had fallen, and that 
the cause of the American slave, not less than the cause 
of his country, had met with a great loss. All the more 
was this felt when I saw the kind of men who came to 
the front when the voice of O'Connell was no longer 
heard in Ireland. He was succeeded by the Daffys, 
Mitchells, Meagher, and others,^men who loved liberty 
for themselves and their country, but were utterly desti- 
tute of sympathy with the cause of liberty in countries 
other than their own. One of the first utterances of 
John Mitchell on reaching this country, from his exile 
and bondage, was a wish for a " slave plantation, well 
stocked with slaves." 

Besides hearing Cobden, Bright, Peel, Disraeli, O'Con- 
nell, Lord Johii Russell, and other Parliamentary debaters, 
it was my good fortune to hear Lord Brougham when 
nearly at his best. He was then a little over sixty, and 
that for a British statesman is not considered old ; and 
in his case there were thirty years of life still before 
him. He struck me as the most wonderful speaker of 
them all. How he was ever reported I cannot imagine. 
Listening to him was like standing near the track of a 
railway train, drawn by a locomotive at the rate of forty 
miles an hour. You were riveted to the spot, charmed 
with the sublime spectacle of speed and power, but could 
give no description of the carriages, nor of the passengers 
at the windows. There was so much to see and hear, 
and so little time left the beholder and hearer to note 
particulars, that when this strange man sat down you 
felt like one who had hastily passed through the wilder- 
ing wonders of a world's exhibition. On the occasion of 



298 WILLIAM AND MARY HOWITT. 

my listening to him, his speech was on the postal rela- 
tions of England with the outside world, and he seemed 
to have a perfect knowledge of the postal arrangements 
of every nation in Europe, and, indeed, in the whole uni- 
verse. He possessed the great advantage, so valuable to 
a Parliamentary debater, of being able to make all inter- 
ruptions serve the purpose of his thought and speech, 
and carry on a dialogue with several persons without 
interrupting the rapid current of his reasoning. I had 
more curiosity to see and hear this man than any other 
in England, and he more than fulfilled my expectations. 

While in England, I saw few literary celebrities, except 
William and Mary Howitt, and Sir John Bowering. I 
was invited to breakfast by the latter in company with 
Wm. Lloyd Garrison, and spent a delightful morning 
with him, chiefly as a listener to their conversation. Sir 
John was a poet, a statesman, and a diplomat, and had 
represented England as minister to China. He was full of 
interesting information, and had a charming way of impart- 
ing his knowledge. The conversation was about slavery and 
about China, and as my knowledge was very slender about 
the " Flowery Kingdom " and its people,! was greatly inter- 
ested in Sir John's description of the ideas and manners 
prevailing among them. According to him, the doctrine 
of substitution was carried so far in that country that 
men sometimes procured others to suffer even the penalty 
of death in their stead. Justice seemed not intent upon 
the punishment of the actual criminal, if only somebody 
was punished when the law was violated. 

William and Mary Howitt were among the kindliest 
people I ever met. Their interest in America, and their 
well-known testimonies against slavery, made me feel 
much at home with them at their house in that part of 
London known as Clapham. Whilst stopping here, I met 
the Swedish poet and author Hans Christian Andersen. 



GEORGE COMBE. 299 

He, like myself, was a guest, spending a few days. I 
saw but little of him though under the same roof. He 
\vus singular in his appearance, and equally singular in 
his silence. His mind seemed to me all the while turned 
inwardly. He walked about the beautiful garden as one 
might in a dream. The Howitts had translated his works 
into English, and could of course address him in his own 
language. Possibly his bad English, and my destitution 
of Swedish, may account for the fact of our mutual 
silence, and yet I observed he was much the same towards 
every one. Mr. and Mrs. Howitt were indefatigable 
writers. Two more industrious and kind-hearted people 
did not breathe. With all their literary work, they 
always had time to devote to strangers, and to all benevo- 
lent efforts to ameliorate the condition of the poor and 
needy. Quakers though they were, they took deep 
interest in the Hutchinsons Judson, John, Asa, and 
Abby who were much at their house during my stay 
there. Mrs. Howitt not inaptly styled them a " Band of 
young apostles" They sang for the oppressed and the 
poor for liberty and humanity. 

Whilst in Edinburgh, so famous for its beauty, its 
educational institutions, its literary men, 'and its history, 
I had a very intense desire gratified and that was to see 
and converse with George Combe, the eminent mental 
philosopher, and author of " Combe's Constitution of 
Man,'' a book which had been placed in my hands a few 
years before, by Doctor Peleg Clark of Rhode Island, the 
reading of which had relieved my path of many shadows. 
In company with George Thompson, James X. Buifum, 
and William L. Garrison, I had the honor to be invited 
by Mr. Combe to breakfast, and the occasion was one of 
the most delightful I met in dear old Scotland. Of course, 
in the presence of such men, my part was a very subordi- 
nate one. I was a listener. Mr. Combe did the most of the 



300 THOMAS CLARKSON. 

talking, and did it so well that nobody felt like interposing 
a word, except so far as to draw him on. He discussed the 
corn laws, and the proposal to reduce the hours of labor. 
He looked at all political and social questions through 
his peculiar mental science. His manner was remarkably 
quiet, and he spoke as not expecting opposition to his 
views. Phrenology explained everything to him, from 
the finite to the infinite. I look back to the morning 
spent with this singularly clear-headed man with much 
satisfaction. 

It would detain the reader too long, and make this 
volume too large, to tell of the many kindnesses shown 
me while abroad, or even to mention all the great and 
noteworthy persons who gave me a friendly hand and a 
cordial welcome ; but there is one other, now long gone 
to his rest, of whom a few words must be spoken, and 
that one was Thomas Clarkson the last of the noble line 
of Englishmen who inaugurated the anti-slavery move- 
ment for England and the civilized world the life-long 
friend and co-worker with Granville Sharpe, William 
Wilberforce, Thomas Fowell .Buxton, and other leaders 
in that great reform which nearly put an end to slavery 
in all parts of fhe globe. As in the case of George 
Combe, I went to see Mr. Clarkson in company with 
Messrs. Garrison and Thompson. They had by note 
advised him of our coming, and had received one in 
reply, bidding us welcome. We found the venerable 
object of our visit seated at a table where he had been 
busily writing a letter to America against slavery ; for 
though in his eighty-seventh year, he continued to write. 
When we were presented to him, he rose to receive us. 
The scene was impressive. It was the meeting of two 
centuries. Garrison, Thompson, and myself were young 
men. After shaking hands with my two distinguished 
friends, and giving them welcome, he took one of my 



AUTHOR'S REFLECTIONS. 301 

hands in both of his, and, in a tremulous voice, said, 
" God bless you, Frederick Douglass ! I have given 
sixty years of my life to the emancipation of your 
people, and if I had sixty years more they should all be 
given to the same cause." Our stay was short with this 
great-hearted old man. He was feeble, and our presence 
greatly excited him, and we left the house with something 
of the feeling with which a man takes final leave of a 
beloved friend at the edge of the grave. 

Some notion may be formed of the difference in my 
feelings and circumstances while abroad, from an extract 
from one of a series of letters addressed by me to Mr. 
Garrison, and published in the Liberator. It was written 
on the 1st day of January, 1864 : 

" 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 pur- 
posely. I wish to speak advisedly, and in order to do this, I have 
waited till, I trust, experience has brought my opinion to an intelli- 
gent 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 what influence I may possess, whether little or much, I wish 
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 child- 
hood, 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 beau- 
tiful rivers, her mighty lakes, and star-crowned mountains. But my 



302 HIS FEELINGS IN ENGLAND. 

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, disre- 
garded and forgotten, and that her most fertile fields drink daily of 
the warm blood of my outraged sisters, I am filled w T ith 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 repent- 
ance 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 human- 
ity. My opportunities for learning the character and condition of the 
people of this land have been very great. I have traveled from the 
Hill of Howth to the Giant's Causeway, and from the Giant's Cause- 
way to Cape Clear. During these travels I have met with much in the 
character and condition of the people to approve, and much to condemn ; 
much that has thrilled me with pleasure, and much that has filled me 
with pain. I will not, in this letter, attempt to give any description of 
those scenes which give me pain. This I will do hereafter. I have said 
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 days of my life since landing in this coun- 
try. 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 em 
braced me and lent me their aid ; the kind hospitality constantly prof- 
fered me by persons of the highest rank in society ; the spirit of free- 
dom that seems to animate all with whom I come in contact, and the 
entire absence of everything that looks like prejudice against me, on 
account of the color of my skin, contrasts 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 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 pur- 



COMPARES ENGLAND AND UNITED STATES. 303 

poses, 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 (Massa- 
chusetts 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 mal- 
treated 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 perilous 
deep. Instead of a democratic government, I am under a monarchial 
government. Instead of the bright, blue sky of America, I am 
covered with the soft, gray 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 a 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 obtain- 
ing admiss