Note from the original file: This electronic book is being released atthis time to honor the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. [Born January15, 1929] [Officially celebrated January 20, 1992]

 NARRATIVE

 OF THE

 LIFE

 OF

 FREDERICK DOUGLASS, AN

 AMERICAN SLAVE. 

 --------------- WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. ---------------

 Boston Published At The Anti-Slavery Office, No. 25 Cornhill 1845

 Entered, According To Act Of Congress, In The Year 1845 By Frederick Douglass, In The Clerk's Office Of The District Court Of Massachusetts. 

PREFACE

In the month of August, 1841, I attended an anti-slavery conventionin Nantucket, at which it was my happiness to become acquainted withFREDERICK DOUGLASS, the writer of the following Narrative. He was astranger to nearly every member of that body; but, having recently madehis escape from the southern prison-house of bondage, and feelinghis curiosity excited to ascertain the principles and measures of theabolitionists, --of whom he had heard a somewhat vague description whilehe was a slave, --he was induced to give his attendance, on the occasionalluded to, though at that time a resident in New Bedford. 

Fortunate, most fortunate occurrence!--fortunate for the millions ofhis manacled brethren, yet panting for deliverance from their awfulthraldom!--fortunate for the cause of negro emancipation, and ofuniversal liberty!--fortunate for the land of his birth, which he hasalready done so much to save and bless!--fortunate for a large circle offriends and acquaintances, whose sympathy and affection he has stronglysecured by the many sufferings he has endured, by his virtuous traits ofcharacter, by his ever-abiding remembrance of those who are in bonds, asbeing bound with them!--fortunate for the multitudes, in various partsof our republic, whose minds he has enlightened on the subject ofslavery, and who have been melted to tears by his pathos, or roused tovirtuous indignation by his stirring eloquence against the enslavers ofmen!--fortunate for himself, as it at once brought him into the fieldof public usefulness, "gave the world assurance of a MAN, " quickened theslumbering energies of his soul, and consecrated him to the great workof breaking the rod of the oppressor, and letting the oppressed go free!

I shall never forget his first speech at the convention--theextraordinary emotion it excited in my own mind--the powerful impressionit created upon a crowded auditory, completely taken by surprise--theapplause which followed from the beginning to the end of his felicitousremarks. I think I never hated slavery so intensely as at that moment;certainly, my perception of the enormous outrage which is inflicted byit, on the godlike nature of its victims, was rendered far moreclear than ever. There stood one, in physical proportion and staturecommanding and exact--in intellect richly endowed--in natural eloquencea prodigy--in soul manifestly "created but a little lower than theangels"--yet a slave, ay, a fugitive slave, --trembling for his safety, hardly daring to believe that on the American soil, a single whiteperson could be found who would befriend him at all hazards, for thelove of God and humanity! Capable of high attainments as an intellectualand moral being--needing nothing but a comparatively small amount ofcultivation to make him an ornament to society and a blessing to hisrace--by the law of the land, by the voice of the people, by the termsof the slave code, he was only a piece of property, a beast of burden, achattel personal, nevertheless!

A beloved friend from New Bedford prevailed on Mr. DOUGLASS to addressthe convention: He came forward to the platform with a hesitancy andembarrassment, necessarily the attendants of a sensitive mind in such anovel position. After apologizing for his ignorance, and reminding theaudience that slavery was a poor school for the human intellect andheart, he proceeded to narrate some of the facts in his own history asa slave, and in the course of his speech gave utterance to many noblethoughts and thrilling reflections. As soon as he had taken his seat, filled with hope and admiration, I rose, and declared that PATRICKHENRY, of revolutionary fame, never made a speech more eloquent in thecause of liberty, than the one we had just listened to from the lips ofthat hunted fugitive. So I believed at that time--such is my beliefnow. I reminded the audience of the peril which surrounded thisself-emancipated young man at the North, --even in Massachusetts, onthe soil of the Pilgrim Fathers, among the descendants of revolutionarysires; and I appealed to them, whether they would ever allow him tobe carried back into slavery, --law or no law, constitution or noconstitution. The response was unanimous and in thunder-tones--"NO!""Will you succor and protect him as a brother-man--a resident of the oldBay State?" "YES!" shouted the whole mass, with an energy so startling, that the ruthless tyrants south of Mason and Dixon's line might almosthave heard the mighty burst of feeling, and recognized it as the pledgeof an invincible determination, on the part of those who gave it, neverto betray him that wanders, but to hide the outcast, and firmly to abidethe consequences. 

It was at once deeply impressed upon my mind, that, if Mr. DOUGLASScould be persuaded to consecrate his time and talents to the promotionof the anti-slavery enterprise, a powerful impetus would be given toit, and a stunning blow at the same time inflicted on northern prejudiceagainst a colored complexion. I therefore endeavored to instil hopeand courage into his mind, in order that he might dare to engage in avocation so anomalous and responsible for a person in his situation; andI was seconded in this effort by warm-hearted friends, especially by thelate General Agent of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, Mr. JOHNA. COLLINS, whose judgment in this instance entirely coincided withmy own. At first, he could give no encouragement; with unfeigneddiffidence, he expressed his conviction that he was not adequate tothe performance of so great a task; the path marked out was wholly anuntrodden one; he was sincerely apprehensive that he should do moreharm than good. After much deliberation, however, he consented to makea trial; and ever since that period, he has acted as a lecturingagent, under the auspices either of the American or the MassachusettsAnti-Slavery Society. In labors he has been most abundant; and hissuccess in combating prejudice, in gaining proselytes, in agitating thepublic mind, has far surpassed the most sanguine expectations that wereraised at the commencement of his brilliant career. He has borne himselfwith gentleness and meekness, yet with true manliness of character. Asa public speaker, he excels in pathos, wit, comparison, imitation, strength of reasoning, and fluency of language. There is in him thatunion of head and heart, which is indispensable to an enlightenmentof the heads and a winning of the hearts of others. May his strengthcontinue to be equal to his day! May he continue to "grow in grace, andin the knowledge of God, " that he may be increasingly serviceable in thecause of bleeding humanity, whether at home or abroad!

It is certainly a very remarkable fact, that one of the most efficientadvocates of the slave population, now before the public, is a fugitiveslave, in the person of FREDERICK DOUGLASS; and that the free coloredpopulation of the United States are as ably represented by one oftheir own number, in the person of CHARLES LENOX REMOND, whose eloquentappeals have extorted the highest applause of multitudes on both sidesof the Atlantic. Let the calumniators of the colored race despisethemselves for their baseness and illiberality of spirit, and henceforthcease to talk of the natural inferiority of those who require nothingbut time and opportunity to attain to the highest point of humanexcellence. 

It may, perhaps, be fairly questioned, whether any other portion of thepopulation of the earth could have endured the privations, sufferingsand horrors of slavery, without having become more degraded in the scaleof humanity than the slaves of African descent. Nothing has been leftundone to cripple their intellects, darken their minds, debase theirmoral nature, obliterate all traces of their relationship to mankind;and yet how wonderfully they have sustained the mighty load of a mostfrightful bondage, under which they have been groaning for centuries! Toillustrate the effect of slavery on the white man, --to show that he hasno powers of endurance, in such a condition, superior to those ofhis black brother, --DANIEL O'CONNELL, the distinguished advocate ofuniversal emancipation, and the mightiest champion of prostrate but notconquered Ireland, relates the following anecdote in a speech deliveredby him in the Conciliation Hall, Dublin, before the Loyal NationalRepeal Association, March 31, 1845. "No matter, " said Mr. O'CONNELL, "under what specious term it may disguise itself, slavery is stillhideous. _It has a natural, an inevitable tendency to brutalize everynoble faculty of man. _ An American sailor, who was cast away on theshore of Africa, where he was kept in slavery for three years, was, atthe expiration of that period, found to be imbruted and stultified--hehad lost all reasoning power; and having forgotten his native language, could only utter some savage gibberish between Arabic and English, whichnobody could understand, and which even he himself found difficultyin pronouncing. So much for the humanizing influence of THE DOMESTICINSTITUTION!" Admitting this to have been an extraordinary case ofmental deterioration, it proves at least that the white slave can sinkas low in the scale of humanity as the black one. 

Mr. DOUGLASS has very properly chosen to write his own Narrative, inhis own style, and according to the best of his ability, rather thanto employ some one else. It is, therefore, entirely his own production;and, considering how long and dark was the career he had to run as aslave, --how few have been his opportunities to improve his mind since hebroke his iron fetters, --it is, in my judgment, highly creditable to hishead and heart. He who can peruse it without a tearful eye, a heavingbreast, an afflicted spirit, --without being filled with an unutterableabhorrence of slavery and all its abettors, and animated with adetermination to seek the immediate overthrow of that execrablesystem, --without trembling for the fate of this country in the hands ofa righteous God, who is ever on the side of the oppressed, and whose armis not shortened that it cannot save, --must have a flinty heart, and bequalified to act the part of a trafficker "in slaves and the souls ofmen. " I am confident that it is essentially true in all its statements;that nothing has been set down in malice, nothing exaggerated, nothingdrawn from the imagination; that it comes short of the reality, ratherthan overstates a single fact in regard to SLAVERY AS IT IS. Theexperience of FREDERICK DOUGLASS, as a slave, was not a peculiar one;his lot was not especially a hard one; his case may be regarded as avery fair specimen of the treatment of slaves in Maryland, in whichState it is conceded that they are better fed and less cruelly treatedthan in Georgia, Alabama, or Louisiana. Many have suffered incomparablymore, while very few on the plantations have suffered less, thanhimself. Yet how deplorable was his situation! what terriblechastisements were inflicted upon his person! what still more shockingoutrages were perpetrated upon his mind! with all his noble powers andsublime aspirations, how like a brute was he treated, even by thoseprofessing to have the same mind in them that was in Christ Jesus! towhat dreadful liabilities was he continually subjected! how destituteof friendly counsel and aid, even in his greatest extremities! how heavywas the midnight of woe which shrouded in blackness the last ray ofhope, and filled the future with terror and gloom! what longings afterfreedom took possession of his breast, and how his misery augmented, inproportion as he grew reflective and intelligent, --thus demonstratingthat a happy slave is an extinct man! how he thought, reasoned, felt, under the lash of the driver, with the chains upon his limbs! whatperils he encountered in his endeavors to escape from his horrible doom!and how signal have been his deliverance and preservation in the midstof a nation of pitiless enemies!

This Narrative contains many affecting incidents, many passages of greateloquence and power; but I think the most thrilling one of them allis the description DOUGLASS gives of his feelings, as he stoodsoliloquizing respecting his fate, and the chances of his one day beinga freeman, on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay--viewing the recedingvessels as they flew with their white wings before the breeze, andapostrophizing them as animated by the living spirit of freedom. Whocan read that passage, and be insensible to its pathos and sublimity?Compressed into it is a whole Alexandrian library of thought, feeling, and sentiment--all that can, all that need be urged, in the form ofexpostulation, entreaty, rebuke, against that crime of crimes, --makingman the property of his fellow-man! O, how accursed is that system, which entombs the godlike mind of man, defaces the divine image, reducesthose who by creation were crowned with glory and honor to a level withfour-footed beasts, and exalts the dealer in human flesh above all thatis called God! Why should its existence be prolonged one hour? Is it notevil, only evil, and that continually? What does its presence imply butthe absence of all fear of God, all regard for man, on the part of thepeople of the United States? Heaven speed its eternal overthrow!

So profoundly ignorant of the nature of slavery are many persons, thatthey are stubbornly incredulous whenever they read or listen to anyrecital of the cruelties which are daily inflicted on its victims. Theydo not deny that the slaves are held as property; but that terriblefact seems to convey to their minds no idea of injustice, exposureto outrage, or savage barbarity. Tell them of cruel scourgings, ofmutilations and brandings, of scenes of pollution and blood, of thebanishment of all light and knowledge, and they affect to be greatlyindignant at such enormous exaggerations, such wholesale misstatements, such abominable libels on the character of the southern planters! As ifall these direful outrages were not the natural results of slavery!As if it were less cruel to reduce a human being to the condition ofa thing, than to give him a severe flagellation, or to deprive him ofnecessary food and clothing! As if whips, chains, thumb-screws, paddles, blood-hounds, overseers, drivers, patrols, were not all indispensableto keep the slaves down, and to give protection to their ruthlessoppressors! As if, when the marriage institution is abolished, concubinage, adultery, and incest, must not necessarily abound; when allthe rights of humanity are annihilated, any barrier remains to protectthe victim from the fury of the spoiler; when absolute power is assumedover life and liberty, it will not be wielded with destructive sway!Skeptics of this character abound in society. In some few instances, their incredulity arises from a want of reflection; but, generally, itindicates a hatred of the light, a desire to shield slavery from theassaults of its foes, a contempt of the colored race, whether bond orfree. Such will try to discredit the shocking tales of slaveholdingcruelty which are recorded in this truthful Narrative; but they willlabor in vain. Mr. DOUGLASS has frankly disclosed the place of hisbirth, the names of those who claimed ownership in his body and soul, and the names also of those who committed the crimes which he hasalleged against them. His statements, therefore, may easily bedisproved, if they are untrue. 

In the course of his Narrative, he relates two instances of murderouscruelty, --in one of which a planter deliberately shot a slave belongingto a neighboring plantation, who had unintentionally gotten within hislordly domain in quest of fish; and in the other, an overseer blew outthe brains of a slave who had fled to a stream of water to escape abloody scourging. Mr. DOUGLASS states that in neither of these instanceswas any thing done by way of legal arrest or judicial investigation. The Baltimore American, of March 17, 1845, relates a similar case ofatrocity, perpetrated with similar impunity--as follows:--"_Shooting aslave. _--We learn, upon the authority of a letter from Charles county, Maryland, received by a gentleman of this city, that a young man, named Matthews, a nephew of General Matthews, and whose father, it isbelieved, holds an office at Washington, killed one of the slaves uponhis father's farm by shooting him. The letter states that young Matthewshad been left in charge of the farm; that he gave an order to theservant, which was disobeyed, when he proceeded to the house, _obtaineda gun, and, returning, shot the servant. _ He immediately, the lettercontinues, fled to his father's residence, where he still remainsunmolested. "--Let it never be forgotten, that no slaveholder or overseercan be convicted of any outrage perpetrated on the person of a slave, however diabolical it may be, on the testimony of colored witnesses, whether bond or free. By the slave code, they are adjudged to be asincompetent to testify against a white man, as though they were indeed apart of the brute creation. Hence, there is no legal protection in fact, whatever there may be in form, for the slave population; and any amountof cruelty may be inflicted on them with impunity. Is it possible forthe human mind to conceive of a more horrible state of society?

The effect of a religious profession on the conduct of southern mastersis vividly described in the following Narrative, and shown to be anything but salutary. In the nature of the case, it must be in the highestdegree pernicious. The testimony of Mr. DOUGLASS, on this point, issustained by a cloud of witnesses, whose veracity is unimpeachable. "Aslaveholder's profession of Christianity is a palpable imposture. Heis a felon of the highest grade. He is a man-stealer. It is of noimportance what you put in the other scale. "

Reader! are you with the man-stealers in sympathy and purpose, or on theside of their down-trodden victims? If with the former, then are you thefoe of God and man. If with the latter, what are you prepared to doand dare in their behalf? Be faithful, be vigilant, be untiring in yourefforts to break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free. Come whatmay--cost what it may--inscribe on the banner which you unfurl to thebreeze, as your religious and political motto--"NO COMPROMISE WITHSLAVERY! NO UNION WITH SLAVEHOLDERS!"

WM. LLOYD GARRISON BOSTON, _May_ 1, 1845. 

LETTER FROM WENDELL PHILLIPS, ESQ. 

BOSTON, APRIL 22, 1845. 

My Dear Friend:

You remember the old fable of "The Man and the Lion, " where the lioncomplained that he should not be so misrepresented "when the lions wrotehistory. "

I am glad the time has come when the "lions write history. " We have beenleft long enough to gather the character of slavery from the involuntaryevidence of the masters. One might, indeed, rest sufficiently satisfiedwith what, it is evident, must be, in general, the results of such arelation, without seeking farther to find whether they have followed inevery instance. Indeed, those who stare at the half-peck of corn a week, and love to count the lashes on the slave's back, are seldom the "stuff"out of which reformers and abolitionists are to be made. I rememberthat, in 1838, many were waiting for the results of the West Indiaexperiment, before they could come into our ranks. Those "results" havecome long ago; but, alas! few of that number have come with them, asconverts. A man must be disposed to judge of emancipation by other teststhan whether it has increased the produce of sugar, --and to hate slaveryfor other reasons than because it starves men and whips women, --beforehe is ready to lay the first stone of his anti-slavery life. 

I was glad to learn, in your story, how early the most neglected ofGod's children waken to a sense of their rights, and of the injusticedone them. Experience is a keen teacher; and long before you hadmastered your A B C, or knew where the "white sails" of the Chesapeakewere bound, you began, I see, to gauge the wretchedness of the slave, not by his hunger and want, not by his lashes and toil, but by the crueland blighting death which gathers over his soul. 

In connection with this, there is one circumstance which makes yourrecollections peculiarly valuable, and renders your early insight themore remarkable. You come from that part of the country where we aretold slavery appears with its fairest features. Let us hear, then, whatit is at its best estate--gaze on its bright side, if it has one; andthen imagination may task her powers to add dark lines to the picture, as she travels southward to that (for the colored man) Valley of theShadow of Death, where the Mississippi sweeps along. 

Again, we have known you long, and can put the most entire confidence inyour truth, candor, and sincerity. Every one who has heard you speakhas felt, and, I am confident, every one who reads your book will feel, persuaded that you give them a fair specimen of the whole truth. Noone-sided portrait, --no wholesale complaints, --but strict justice done, whenever individual kindliness has neutralized, for a moment, the deadlysystem with which it was strangely allied. You have been with us, too, some years, and can fairly compare the twilight of rights, which yourrace enjoy at the North, with that "noon of night" under which theylabor south of Mason and Dixon's line. Tell us whether, after all, thehalf-free colored man of Massachusetts is worse off than the pamperedslave of the rice swamps!

In reading your life, no one can say that we have unfairly picked outsome rare specimens of cruelty. We know that the bitter drops, whicheven you have drained from the cup, are no incidental aggravations, noindividual ills, but such as must mingle always and necessarily inthe lot of every slave. They are the essential ingredients, not theoccasional results, of the system. 

After all, I shall read your book with trembling for you. Some yearsago, when you were beginning to tell me your real name and birthplace, you may remember I stopped you, and preferred to remain ignorant ofall. With the exception of a vague description, so I continued, till theother day, when you read me your memoirs. I hardly knew, at the time, whether to thank you or not for the sight of them, when I reflected thatit was still dangerous, in Massachusetts, for honest men to telltheir names! They say the fathers, in 1776, signed the Declaration ofIndependence with the halter about their necks. You, too, publish yourdeclaration of freedom with danger compassing you around. In all thebroad lands which the Constitution of the United States overshadows, there is no single spot, --however narrow or desolate, --where a fugitiveslave can plant himself and say, "I am safe. " The whole armory ofNorthern Law has no shield for you. I am free to say that, in yourplace, I should throw the MS. Into the fire. 

You, perhaps, may tell your story in safety, endeared as you are to somany warm hearts by rare gifts, and a still rarer devotion of them tothe service of others. But it will be owing only to your labors, and thefearless efforts of those who, trampling the laws and Constitution ofthe country under their feet, are determined that they will "hide theoutcast, " and that their hearths shall be, spite of the law, an asylumfor the oppressed, if, some time or other, the humblest may stand in ourstreets, and bear witness in safety against the cruelties of which hehas been the victim. 

Yet it is sad to think, that these very throbbing hearts which welcomeyour story, and form your best safeguard in telling it, are all beatingcontrary to the "statute in such case made and provided. " Go on, my dearfriend, till you, and those who, like you, have been saved, so as byfire, from the dark prison-house, shall stereotype these free, illegal pulses into statutes; and New England, cutting loose from ablood-stained Union, shall glory in being the house of refuge for theoppressed, --till we no longer merely "_hide_ the outcast, " or makea merit of standing idly by while he is hunted in our midst; but, consecrating anew the soil of the Pilgrims as an asylum for theoppressed, proclaim our WELCOME to the slave so loudly, that the tonesshall reach every hut in the Carolinas, and make the broken-heartedbondman leap up at the thought of old Massachusetts. 

God speed the day!

_Till then, and ever, _ _Yours truly, _ _WENDELL PHILLIPS_

FREDERICK DOUGLASS. 

Frederick Douglass was born in slavery as Frederick Augustus WashingtonBailey near Easton in Talbot County, Maryland. He was not sure of theexact year of his birth, but he knew that it was 1817 or 1818. As ayoung boy he was sent to Baltimore, to be a house servant, where helearned to read and write, with the assistance of his master's wife. In1838 he escaped from slavery and went to New York City, where he marriedAnna Murray, a free colored woman whom he had met in Baltimore. Soonthereafter he changed his name to Frederick Douglass. In 1841 headdressed a convention of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society inNantucket and so greatly impressed the group that they immediatelyemployed him as an agent. He was such an impressive orator that numerouspersons doubted if he had ever been a slave, so he wrote NARRATIVE OFTHE LIFE OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS. During the Civil War he assisted in therecruiting of colored men for the 54th and 55th Massachusetts Regimentsand consistently argued for the emancipation of slaves. After the war hewas active in securing and protecting the rights of the freemen. In hislater years, at different times, he was secretary of the Santo DomingoCommission, marshall and recorder of deeds of the District of Columbia, and United States Minister to Haiti. His other autobiographical worksare MY BONDAGE AND MY FREEDOM and LIFE AND TIMES OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS, published in 1855 and 1881 respectively. He died in 1895. 

CHAPTER I

I was born in Tuckahoe, near Hillsborough, and about twelve miles fromEaston, in Talbot county, Maryland. I have no accurate knowledge of myage, never having seen any authentic record containing it. By far thelarger part of the slaves know as little of their ages as horses know oftheirs, and it is the wish of most masters within my knowledge to keeptheir slaves thus ignorant. I do not remember to have ever met a slavewho could tell of his birthday. They seldom come nearer to it thanplanting-time, harvesttime, cherry-time, spring-time, or fall-time. Awant of information concerning my own was a source of unhappiness to meeven during childhood. The white children could tell their ages. I couldnot tell why I ought to be deprived of the same privilege. I was notallowed to make any inquiries of my master concerning it. He deemedall such inquiries on the part of a slave improper and impertinent, andevidence of a restless spirit. The nearest estimate I can give makes menow between twenty-seven and twenty-eight years of age. I come to this, from hearing my master say, some time during 1835, I was about seventeenyears old. 

My mother was named Harriet Bailey. She was the daughter of Isaac andBetsey Bailey, both colored, and quite dark. My mother was of a darkercomplexion than either my grandmother or grandfather. 

My father was a white man. He was admitted to be such by all I everheard speak of my parentage. The opinion was also whispered that mymaster was my father; but of the correctness of this opinion, I knownothing; the means of knowing was withheld from me. My mother and I wereseparated when I was but an infant--before I knew her as my mother. Itis a common custom, in the part of Maryland from which I ran away, topart children from their mothers at a very early age. Frequently, beforethe child has reached its twelfth month, its mother is taken from it, and hired out on some farm a considerable distance off, and the child isplaced under the care of an old woman, too old for field labor. Forwhat this separation is done, I do not know, unless it be to hinder thedevelopment of the child's affection toward its mother, and to blunt anddestroy the natural affection of the mother for the child. This is theinevitable result. 

I never saw my mother, to know her as such, more than four or five timesin my life; and each of these times was very short in duration, and atnight. She was hired by a Mr. Stewart, who lived about twelve miles frommy home. She made her journeys to see me in the night, travelling thewhole distance on foot, after the performance of her day's work. She wasa field hand, and a whipping is the penalty of not being in the field atsunrise, unless a slave has special permission from his or her master tothe contrary--a permission which they seldom get, and one that givesto him that gives it the proud name of being a kind master. I do notrecollect of ever seeing my mother by the light of day. She was with mein the night. She would lie down with me, and get me to sleep, but longbefore I waked she was gone. Very little communication ever took placebetween us. Death soon ended what little we could have while she lived, and with it her hardships and suffering. She died when I was aboutseven years old, on one of my master's farms, near Lee's Mill. I was notallowed to be present during her illness, at her death, or burial. Shewas gone long before I knew any thing about it. Never having enjoyed, toany considerable extent, her soothing presence, her tender and watchfulcare, I received the tidings of her death with much the same emotions Ishould have probably felt at the death of a stranger. 

Called thus suddenly away, she left me without the slightest intimationof who my father was. The whisper that my master was my father, may ormay not be true; and, true or false, it is of but little consequence tomy purpose whilst the fact remains, in all its glaring odiousness, thatslaveholders have ordained, and by law established, that the childrenof slave women shall in all cases follow the condition of their mothers;and this is done too obviously to administer to their own lusts, andmake a gratification of their wicked desires profitable as well aspleasurable; for by this cunning arrangement, the slaveholder, in casesnot a few, sustains to his slaves the double relation of master andfather. 

I know of such cases; and it is worthy of remark that such slavesinvariably suffer greater hardships, and have more to contend with, than others. They are, in the first place, a constant offence to theirmistress. She is ever disposed to find fault with them; they can seldomdo any thing to please her; she is never better pleased than when shesees them under the lash, especially when she suspects her husband ofshowing to his mulatto children favors which he withholds from his blackslaves. The master is frequently compelled to sell this class of hisslaves, out of deference to the feelings of his white wife; and, cruelas the deed may strike any one to be, for a man to sell his own childrento human flesh-mongers, it is often the dictate of humanity for him todo so; for, unless he does this, he must not only whip them himself, but must stand by and see one white son tie up his brother, of but fewshades darker complexion than himself, and ply the gory lash to hisnaked back; and if he lisp one word of disapproval, it is set down tohis parental partiality, and only makes a bad matter worse, both forhimself and the slave whom he would protect and defend. 

Every year brings with it multitudes of this class of slaves. It wasdoubtless in consequence of a knowledge of this fact, that one greatstatesman of the south predicted the downfall of slavery by theinevitable laws of population. Whether this prophecy is ever fulfilledor not, it is nevertheless plain that a very different-looking class ofpeople are springing up at the south, and are now held in slavery, from those originally brought to this country from Africa; and if theirincrease do no other good, it will do away the force of the argument, that God cursed Ham, and therefore American slavery is right. If thelineal descendants of Ham are alone to be scripturally enslaved, it iscertain that slavery at the south must soon become unscriptural; forthousands are ushered into the world, annually, who, like myself, owetheir existence to white fathers, and those fathers most frequentlytheir own masters. 

I have had two masters. My first master's name was Anthony. I do notremember his first name. He was generally called Captain Anthony--atitle which, I presume, he acquired by sailing a craft on the ChesapeakeBay. He was not considered a rich slaveholder. He owned two or threefarms, and about thirty slaves. His farms and slaves were under thecare of an overseer. The overseer's name was Plummer. Mr. Plummer was amiserable drunkard, a profane swearer, and a savage monster. He alwayswent armed with a cowskin and a heavy cudgel. I have known him to cutand slash the women's heads so horribly, that even master would beenraged at his cruelty, and would threaten to whip him if he did notmind himself. Master, however, was not a humane slaveholder. It requiredextraordinary barbarity on the part of an overseer to affect him. He wasa cruel man, hardened by a long life of slaveholding. He would at timesseem to take great pleasure in whipping a slave. I have often beenawakened at the dawn of day by the most heart-rending shrieks of an ownaunt of mine, whom he used to tie up to a joist, and whip upon her nakedback till she was literally covered with blood. No words, no tears, noprayers, from his gory victim, seemed to move his iron heart from itsbloody purpose. The louder she screamed, the harder he whipped; andwhere the blood ran fastest, there he whipped longest. He would whipher to make her scream, and whip her to make her hush; and not untilovercome by fatigue, would he cease to swing the blood-clotted cowskin. I remember the first time I ever witnessed this horrible exhibition. I was quite a child, but I well remember it. I never shall forget itwhilst I remember any thing. It was the first of a long series of suchoutrages, of which I was doomed to be a witness and a participant. Itstruck me with awful force. It was the blood-stained gate, the entranceto the hell of slavery, through which I was about to pass. It was a mostterrible spectacle. I wish I could commit to paper the feelings withwhich I beheld it. 

This occurrence took place very soon after I went to live with my oldmaster, and under the following circumstances. Aunt Hester went out onenight, --where or for what I do not know, --and happened to be absentwhen my master desired her presence. He had ordered her not to goout evenings, and warned her that she must never let him catch her incompany with a young man, who was paying attention to her belonging toColonel Lloyd. The young man's name was Ned Roberts, generally calledLloyd's Ned. Why master was so careful of her, may be safely left toconjecture. She was a woman of noble form, and of graceful proportions, having very few equals, and fewer superiors, in personal appearance, among the colored or white women of our neighborhood. 

Aunt Hester had not only disobeyed his orders in going out, but had beenfound in company with Lloyd's Ned; which circumstance, I found, fromwhat he said while whipping her, was the chief offence. Had he been aman of pure morals himself, he might have been thought interested inprotecting the innocence of my aunt; but those who knew him will notsuspect him of any such virtue. Before he commenced whipping AuntHester, he took her into the kitchen, and stripped her from neck towaist, leaving her neck, shoulders, and back, entirely naked. He thentold her to cross her hands, calling her at the same time a d----db---h. After crossing her hands, he tied them with a strong rope, andled her to a stool under a large hook in the joist, put in for thepurpose. He made her get upon the stool, and tied her hands to the hook. She now stood fair for his infernal purpose. Her arms were stretched upat their full length, so that she stood upon the ends of her toes. Hethen said to her, "Now, you d----d b---h, I'll learn you how to disobeymy orders!" and after rolling up his sleeves, he commenced to lay on theheavy cowskin, and soon the warm, red blood (amid heart-rending shrieksfrom her, and horrid oaths from him) came dripping to the floor. I wasso terrified and horror-stricken at the sight, that I hid myself in acloset, and dared not venture out till long after the bloody transactionwas over. I expected it would be my turn next. It was all new to me. I had never seen any thing like it before. I had always lived with mygrandmother on the outskirts of the plantation, where she was put toraise the children of the younger women. I had therefore been, untilnow, out of the way of the bloody scenes that often occurred on theplantation. 

CHAPTER II

My master's family consisted of two sons, Andrew and Richard; onedaughter, Lucretia, and her husband, Captain Thomas Auld. They lived inone house, upon the home plantation of Colonel Edward Lloyd. My masterwas Colonel Lloyd's clerk and superintendent. He was what might becalled the overseer of the overseers. I spent two years of childhood onthis plantation in my old master's family. It was here that I witnessedthe bloody transaction recorded in the first chapter; and as I receivedmy first impressions of slavery on this plantation, I will give somedescription of it, and of slavery as it there existed. The plantation isabout twelve miles north of Easton, in Talbot county, and is situatedon the border of Miles River. The principal products raised upon it weretobacco, corn, and wheat. These were raised in great abundance; so that, with the products of this and the other farms belonging to him, he wasable to keep in almost constant employment a large sloop, in carryingthem to market at Baltimore. This sloop was named Sally Lloyd, in honorof one of the colonel's daughters. My master's son-in-law, Captain Auld, was master of the vessel; she was otherwise manned by the colonel'sown slaves. Their names were Peter, Isaac, Rich, and Jake. Thesewere esteemed very highly by the other slaves, and looked upon as theprivileged ones of the plantation; for it was no small affair, in theeyes of the slaves, to be allowed to see Baltimore. 

Colonel Lloyd kept from three to four hundred slaves on his homeplantation, and owned a large number more on the neighboring farmsbelonging to him. The names of the farms nearest to the home plantationwere Wye Town and New Design. "Wye Town" was under the overseership ofa man named Noah Willis. New Design was under the overseership of aMr. Townsend. The overseers of these, and all the rest of the farms, numbering over twenty, received advice and direction from the managersof the home plantation. This was the great business place. It was theseat of government for the whole twenty farms. All disputes amongthe overseers were settled here. If a slave was convicted of any highmisdemeanor, became unmanageable, or evinced a determination to runaway, he was brought immediately here, severely whipped, put on boardthe sloop, carried to Baltimore, and sold to Austin Woolfolk, or someother slave-trader, as a warning to the slaves remaining. 

Here, too, the slaves of all the other farms received their monthlyallowance of food, and their yearly clothing. The men and women slavesreceived, as their monthly allowance of food, eight pounds of pork, or its equivalent in fish, and one bushel of corn meal. Their yearlyclothing consisted of two coarse linen shirts, one pair of linentrousers, like the shirts, one jacket, one pair of trousers for winter, made of coarse negro cloth, one pair of stockings, and one pair ofshoes; the whole of which could not have cost more than seven dollars. The allowance of the slave children was given to their mothers, or theold women having the care of them. The children unable to work in thefield had neither shoes, stockings, jackets, nor trousers, given tothem; their clothing consisted of two coarse linen shirts per year. When these failed them, they went naked until the next allowance-day. Children from seven to ten years old, of both sexes, almost naked, mightbe seen at all seasons of the year. 

There were no beds given the slaves, unless one coarse blanket beconsidered such, and none but the men and women had these. This, however, is not considered a very great privation. They find lessdifficulty from the want of beds, than from the want of time to sleep;for when their day's work in the field is done, the most of them havingtheir washing, mending, and cooking to do, and having few or none ofthe ordinary facilities for doing either of these, very many of theirsleeping hours are consumed in preparing for the field the coming day;and when this is done, old and young, male and female, married andsingle, drop down side by side, on one common bed, --the cold, dampfloor, --each covering himself or herself with their miserable blankets;and here they sleep till they are summoned to the field by the driver'shorn. At the sound of this, all must rise, and be off to the field. There must be no halting; every one must be at his or her post; and woebetides them who hear not this morning summons to the field; for ifthey are not awakened by the sense of hearing, they are by the sense offeeling: no age nor sex finds any favor. Mr. Severe, the overseer, usedto stand by the door of the quarter, armed with a large hickory stickand heavy cowskin, ready to whip any one who was so unfortunate as notto hear, or, from any other cause, was prevented from being ready tostart for the field at the sound of the horn. 

Mr. Severe was rightly named: he was a cruel man. I have seen him whip awoman, causing the blood to run half an hour at the time; and this, too, in the midst of her crying children, pleading for their mother'srelease. He seemed to take pleasure in manifesting his fiendishbarbarity. Added to his cruelty, he was a profane swearer. It was enoughto chill the blood and stiffen the hair of an ordinary man to hear himtalk. Scarce a sentence escaped him but that was commenced or concludedby some horrid oath. The field was the place to witness his crueltyand profanity. His presence made it both the field of blood and ofblasphemy. From the rising till the going down of the sun, he wascursing, raving, cutting, and slashing among the slaves of the field, inthe most frightful manner. His career was short. He died very soon afterI went to Colonel Lloyd's; and he died as he lived, uttering, with hisdying groans, bitter curses and horrid oaths. His death was regarded bythe slaves as the result of a merciful providence. 

Mr. Severe's place was filled by a Mr. Hopkins. He was a very differentman. He was less cruel, less profane, and made less noise, than Mr. Severe. His course was characterized by no extraordinary demonstrationsof cruelty. He whipped, but seemed to take no pleasure in it. He wascalled by the slaves a good overseer. 

The home plantation of Colonel Lloyd wore the appearance of a countryvillage. All the mechanical operations for all the farms were performedhere. The shoemaking and mending, the blacksmithing, cartwrighting, coopering, weaving, and grain-grinding, were all performed by the slaveson the home plantation. The whole place wore a business-like aspect veryunlike the neighboring farms. The number of houses, too, conspiredto give it advantage over the neighboring farms. It was called by theslaves the _Great House Farm. _ Few privileges were esteemed higher, bythe slaves of the out-farms, than that of being selected to doerrands at the Great House Farm. It was associated in their minds withgreatness. A representative could not be prouder of his election toa seat in the American Congress, than a slave on one of the out-farmswould be of his election to do errands at the Great House Farm. Theyregarded it as evidence of great confidence reposed in them by theiroverseers; and it was on this account, as well as a constant desire tobe out of the field from under the driver's lash, that they esteemedit a high privilege, one worth careful living for. He was called thesmartest and most trusty fellow, who had this honor conferred uponhim the most frequently. The competitors for this office sought asdiligently to please their overseers, as the office-seekers in thepolitical parties seek to please and deceive the people. The same traitsof character might be seen in Colonel Lloyd's slaves, as are seen in theslaves of the political parties. 

The slaves selected to go to the Great House Farm, for the monthlyallowance for themselves and their fellow-slaves, were peculiarlyenthusiastic. While on their way, they would make the dense old woods, for miles around, reverberate with their wild songs, revealing at oncethe highest joy and the deepest sadness. They would compose and sing asthey went along, consulting neither time nor tune. The thought that cameup, came out--if not in the word, in the sound;--and as frequently inthe one as in the other. They would sometimes sing the most patheticsentiment in the most rapturous tone, and the most rapturous sentimentin the most pathetic tone. Into all of their songs they would manage toweave something of the Great House Farm. Especially would they do this, when leaving home. They would then sing most exultingly the followingwords:--

 "I am going away to the Great House Farm! O, yea! O, yea! O!"

This they would sing, as a chorus, to words which to many would seemunmeaning jargon, but which, nevertheless, were full of meaning tothemselves. I have sometimes thought that the mere hearing of thosesongs would do more to impress some minds with the horrible character ofslavery, than the reading of whole volumes of philosophy on the subjectcould do. 

I did not, when a slave, understand the deep meaning of those rude andapparently incoherent songs. I was myself within the circle; so that Ineither saw nor heard as those without might see and hear. They told atale of woe which was then altogether beyond my feeble comprehension;they were tones loud, long, and deep; they breathed the prayer andcomplaint of souls boiling over with the bitterest anguish. Every tonewas a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverancefrom chains. The hearing of those wild notes always depressed my spirit, and filled me with ineffable sadness. I have frequently found myself intears while hearing them. The mere recurrence to those songs, evennow, afflicts me; and while I am writing these lines, an expression offeeling has already found its way down my cheek. To those songs I tracemy first glimmering conception of the dehumanizing character of slavery. I can never get rid of that conception. Those songs still follow me, todeepen my hatred of slavery, and quicken my sympathies for my brethrenin bonds. If any one wishes to be impressed with the soul-killingeffects of slavery, let him go to Colonel Lloyd's plantation, and, onallowance-day, place himself in the deep pine woods, and there let him, in silence, analyze the sounds that shall pass through the chambersof his soul, --and if he is not thus impressed, it will only be because"there is no flesh in his obdurate heart. "

I have often been utterly astonished, since I came to the north, to findpersons who could speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence oftheir contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of agreater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songsof the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relieved bythem, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears. At least, suchis my experience. I have often sung to drown my sorrow, but seldom toexpress my happiness. Crying for joy, and singing for joy, were alikeuncommon to me while in the jaws of slavery. The singing of a man castaway upon a desolate island might be as appropriately considered asevidence of contentment and happiness, as the singing of a slave; thesongs of the one and of the other are prompted by the same emotion. 

CHAPTER III

Colonel Lloyd kept a large and finely cultivated garden, which affordedalmost constant employment for four men, besides the chief gardener, (Mr. M'Durmond. ) This garden was probably the greatest attraction ofthe place. During the summer months, people came from far and near--fromBaltimore, Easton, and Annapolis--to see it. It abounded in fruitsof almost every description, from the hardy apple of the north to thedelicate orange of the south. This garden was not the least source oftrouble on the plantation. Its excellent fruit was quite a temptation tothe hungry swarms of boys, as well as the older slaves, belonging to thecolonel, few of whom had the virtue or the vice to resist it. Scarcely aday passed, during the summer, but that some slave had to take the lashfor stealing fruit. The colonel had to resort to all kinds of stratagemsto keep his slaves out of the garden. The last and most successful onewas that of tarring his fence all around; after which, if a slave wascaught with any tar upon his person, it was deemed sufficient proof thathe had either been into the garden, or had tried to get in. In eithercase, he was severely whipped by the chief gardener. This plan workedwell; the slaves became as fearful of tar as of the lash. They seemed torealize the impossibility of touching TAR without being defiled. 

The colonel also kept a splendid riding equipage. His stable andcarriage-house presented the appearance of some of our large city liveryestablishments. His horses were of the finest form and noblest blood. His carriage-house contained three splendid coaches, three or four gigs, besides dearborns and barouches of the most fashionable style. 

This establishment was under the care of two slaves--old Barney andyoung Barney--father and son. To attend to this establishment was theirsole work. But it was by no means an easy employment; for in nothing wasColonel Lloyd more particular than in the management of his horses. Theslightest inattention to these was unpardonable, and was visited uponthose, under whose care they were placed, with the severest punishment;no excuse could shield them, if the colonel only suspected any want ofattention to his horses--a supposition which he frequently indulged, and one which, of course, made the office of old and young Barney a verytrying one. They never knew when they were safe from punishment. Theywere frequently whipped when least deserving, and escaped whipping whenmost deserving it. Every thing depended upon the looks of the horses, and the state of Colonel Lloyd's own mind when his horses were broughtto him for use. If a horse did not move fast enough, or hold his headhigh enough, it was owing to some fault of his keepers. It was painfulto stand near the stable-door, and hear the various complaints againstthe keepers when a horse was taken out for use. "This horse has not hadproper attention. He has not been sufficiently rubbed and curried, orhe has not been properly fed; his food was too wet or too dry; he got ittoo soon or too late; he was too hot or too cold; he had too much hay, and not enough of grain; or he had too much grain, and not enoughof hay; instead of old Barney's attending to the horse, he had veryimproperly left it to his son. " To all these complaints, no matter howunjust, the slave must answer never a word. Colonel Lloyd could notbrook any contradiction from a slave. When he spoke, a slave muststand, listen, and tremble; and such was literally the case. I have seenColonel Lloyd make old Barney, a man between fifty and sixty years ofage, uncover his bald head, kneel down upon the cold, damp ground, andreceive upon his naked and toil-worn shoulders more than thirtylashes at the time. Colonel Lloyd had three sons--Edward, Murray, andDaniel, --and three sons-in-law, Mr. Winder, Mr. Nicholson, and Mr. Lowndes. All of these lived at the Great House Farm, and enjoyed theluxury of whipping the servants when they pleased, from old Barney downto William Wilkes, the coach-driver. I have seen Winder make one of thehouse-servants stand off from him a suitable distance to be touched withthe end of his whip, and at every stroke raise great ridges upon hisback. 

To describe the wealth of Colonel Lloyd would be almost equal todescribing the riches of Job. He kept from ten to fifteenhouse-servants. He was said to own a thousand slaves, and I think thisestimate quite within the truth. Colonel Lloyd owned so many that he didnot know them when he saw them; nor did all the slaves of the out-farmsknow him. It is reported of him, that, while riding along the road oneday, he met a colored man, and addressed him in the usual manner ofspeaking to colored people on the public highways of the south: "Well, boy, whom do you belong to?" "To Colonel Lloyd, " replied the slave. "Well, does the colonel treat you well?" "No, sir, " was the ready reply. "What, does he work you too hard?" "Yes, sir. " "Well, don't he give youenough to eat?" "Yes, sir, he gives me enough, such as it is. "

The colonel, after ascertaining where the slave belonged, rode on;the man also went on about his business, not dreaming that he had beenconversing with his master. He thought, said, and heard nothing more ofthe matter, until two or three weeks afterwards. The poor man was theninformed by his overseer that, for having found fault with his master, he was now to be sold to a Georgia trader. He was immediately chainedand handcuffed; and thus, without a moment's warning, he was snatchedaway, and forever sundered, from his family and friends, by a hand moreunrelenting than death. This is the penalty of telling the truth, oftelling the simple truth, in answer to a series of plain questions. 

It is partly in consequence of such facts, that slaves, when inquiredof as to their condition and the character of their masters, almostuniversally say they are contented, and that their masters are kind. The slaveholders have been known to send in spies among their slaves, to ascertain their views and feelings in regard to their condition. Thefrequency of this has had the effect to establish among the slaves themaxim, that a still tongue makes a wise head. They suppress the truthrather than take the consequences of telling it, and in so doing provethemselves a part of the human family. If they have any thing to say oftheir masters, it is generally in their masters' favor, especially whenspeaking to an untried man. I have been frequently asked, when aslave, if I had a kind master, and do not remember ever to have given anegative answer; nor did I, in pursuing this course, consider myself asuttering what was absolutely false; for I always measured the kindnessof my master by the standard of kindness set up among slaveholdersaround us. Moreover, slaves are like other people, and imbibe prejudicesquite common to others. They think their own better than that of others. Many, under the influence of this prejudice, think their own masters arebetter than the masters of other slaves; and this, too, in some cases, when the very reverse is true. Indeed, it is not uncommon for slaveseven to fall out and quarrel among themselves about the relativegoodness of their masters, each contending for the superior goodness ofhis own over that of the others. At the very same time, they mutuallyexecrate their masters when viewed separately. It was so on ourplantation. When Colonel Lloyd's slaves met the slaves of Jacob Jepson, they seldom parted without a quarrel about their masters; ColonelLloyd's slaves contending that he was the richest, and Mr. Jepson'sslaves that he was the smartest, and most of a man. Colonel Lloyd'sslaves would boast his ability to buy and sell Jacob Jepson. Mr. Jepson's slaves would boast his ability to whip Colonel Lloyd. Thesequarrels would almost always end in a fight between the parties, andthose that whipped were supposed to have gained the point at issue. Theyseemed to think that the greatness of their masters was transferable tothemselves. It was considered as being bad enough to be a slave; but tobe a poor man's slave was deemed a disgrace indeed!

CHAPTER IV

Mr. Hopkins remained but a short time in the office of overseer. Why hiscareer was so short, I do not know, but suppose he lacked the necessaryseverity to suit Colonel Lloyd. Mr. Hopkins was succeeded by Mr. AustinGore, a man possessing, in an eminent degree, all those traits ofcharacter indispensable to what is called a first-rate overseer. Mr. Gore had served Colonel Lloyd, in the capacity of overseer, upon oneof the out-farms, and had shown himself worthy of the high station ofoverseer upon the home or Great House Farm. 

Mr. Gore was proud, ambitious, and persevering. He was artful, cruel, and obdurate. He was just the man for such a place, and it was just theplace for such a man. It afforded scope for the full exercise of all hispowers, and he seemed to be perfectly at home in it. He was one of thosewho could torture the slightest look, word, or gesture, on the part ofthe slave, into impudence, and would treat it accordingly. There mustbe no answering back to him; no explanation was allowed a slave, showinghimself to have been wrongfully accused. Mr. Gore acted fully up tothe maxim laid down by slaveholders, --"It is better that a dozenslaves should suffer under the lash, than that the overseer should beconvicted, in the presence of the slaves, of having been at fault. "No matter how innocent a slave might be--it availed him nothing, when accused by Mr. Gore of any misdemeanor. To be accused was tobe convicted, and to be convicted was to be punished; the one alwaysfollowing the other with immutable certainty. To escape punishment wasto escape accusation; and few slaves had the fortune to do either, underthe overseership of Mr. Gore. He was just proud enough to demand themost debasing homage of the slave, and quite servile enough to crouch, himself, at the feet of the master. He was ambitious enough to becontented with nothing short of the highest rank of overseers, andpersevering enough to reach the height of his ambition. He was cruelenough to inflict the severest punishment, artful enough to descend tothe lowest trickery, and obdurate enough to be insensible to the voiceof a reproving conscience. He was, of all the overseers, the mostdreaded by the slaves. His presence was painful; his eye flashedconfusion; and seldom was his sharp, shrill voice heard, withoutproducing horror and trembling in their ranks. 

Mr. Gore was a grave man, and, though a young man, he indulged in nojokes, said no funny words, seldom smiled. His words were in perfectkeeping with his looks, and his looks were in perfect keeping with hiswords. Overseers will sometimes indulge in a witty word, even with theslaves; not so with Mr. Gore. He spoke but to command, and commanded butto be obeyed; he dealt sparingly with his words, and bountifully withhis whip, never using the former where the latter would answer as well. When he whipped, he seemed to do so from a sense of duty, and feared noconsequences. He did nothing reluctantly, no matter how disagreeable;always at his post, never inconsistent. He never promised but to fulfil. He was, in a word, a man of the most inflexible firmness and stone-likecoolness. 

His savage barbarity was equalled only by the consummate coolness withwhich he committed the grossest and most savage deeds upon the slavesunder his charge. Mr. Gore once undertook to whip one of Colonel Lloyd'sslaves, by the name of Demby. He had given Demby but few stripes, when, to get rid of the scourging, he ran and plunged himself into a creek, and stood there at the depth of his shoulders, refusing to come out. Mr. Gore told him that he would give him three calls, and that, if he didnot come out at the third call, he would shoot him. The first call wasgiven. Demby made no response, but stood his ground. The second andthird calls were given with the same result. Mr. Gore then, withoutconsultation or deliberation with any one, not even giving Demby anadditional call, raised his musket to his face, taking deadly aim at hisstanding victim, and in an instant poor Demby was no more. His mangledbody sank out of sight, and blood and brains marked the water where hehad stood. 

A thrill of horror flashed through every soul upon the plantation, excepting Mr. Gore. He alone seemed cool and collected. He was asked byColonel Lloyd and my old master, why he resorted to this extraordinaryexpedient. His reply was, (as well as I can remember, ) that Demby hadbecome unmanageable. He was setting a dangerous example to the otherslaves, --one which, if suffered to pass without some such demonstrationon his part, would finally lead to the total subversion of all rule andorder upon the plantation. He argued that if one slave refused to becorrected, and escaped with his life, the other slaves would soon copythe example; the result of which would be, the freedom of the slaves, and the enslavement of the whites. Mr. Gore's defence was satisfactory. He was continued in his station as overseer upon the home plantation. His fame as an overseer went abroad. His horrid crime was not evensubmitted to judicial investigation. It was committed in the presence ofslaves, and they of course could neither institute a suit, nor testifyagainst him; and thus the guilty perpetrator of one of the bloodiestand most foul murders goes unwhipped of justice, and uncensured by thecommunity in which he lives. Mr. Gore lived in St. Michael's, Talbotcounty, Maryland, when I left there; and if he is still alive, he veryprobably lives there now; and if so, he is now, as he was then, ashighly esteemed and as much respected as though his guilty soul had notbeen stained with his brother's blood. 

I speak advisedly when I say this, --that killing a slave, or any coloredperson, in Talbot county, Maryland, is not treated as a crime, either bythe courts or the community. Mr. Thomas Lanman, of St. Michael's, killedtwo slaves, one of whom he killed with a hatchet, by knocking his brainsout. He used to boast of the commission of the awful and bloody deed. Ihave heard him do so laughingly, saying, among other things, that he wasthe only benefactor of his country in the company, and that when otherswould do as much as he had done, we should be relieved of "the d----dniggers. "

The wife of Mr. Giles Hicks, living but a short distance from where Iused to live, murdered my wife's cousin, a young girl between fifteenand sixteen years of age, mangling her person in the most horriblemanner, breaking her nose and breastbone with a stick, so that the poorgirl expired in a few hours afterward. She was immediately buried, buthad not been in her untimely grave but a few hours before she was takenup and examined by the coroner, who decided that she had come to herdeath by severe beating. The offence for which this girl was thusmurdered was this:--She had been set that night to mind Mrs. Hicks'sbaby, and during the night she fell asleep, and the baby cried. She, having lost her rest for several nights previous, did not hear thecrying. They were both in the room with Mrs. Hicks. Mrs. Hicks, findingthe girl slow to move, jumped from her bed, seized an oak stick of woodby the fireplace, and with it broke the girl's nose and breastbone, and thus ended her life. I will not say that this most horrid murderproduced no sensation in the community. It did produce sensation, butnot enough to bring the murderess to punishment. There was a warrantissued for her arrest, but it was never served. Thus she escaped notonly punishment, but even the pain of being arraigned before a court forher horrid crime. 

Whilst I am detailing bloody deeds which took place during my stayon Colonel Lloyd's plantation, I will briefly narrate another, whichoccurred about the same time as the murder of Demby by Mr. Gore. 

Colonel Lloyd's slaves were in the habit of spending a part of theirnights and Sundays in fishing for oysters, and in this way made up thedeficiency of their scanty allowance. An old man belonging to ColonelLloyd, while thus engaged, happened to get beyond the limits of ColonelLloyd's, and on the premises of Mr. Beal Bondly. At this trespass, Mr. Bondly took offence, and with his musket came down to the shore, andblew its deadly contents into the poor old man. 

Mr. Bondly came over to see Colonel Lloyd the next day, whether to payhim for his property, or to justify himself in what he had done, I knownot. At any rate, this whole fiendish transaction was soon hushed up. There was very little said about it at all, and nothing done. It wasa common saying, even among little white boys, that it was worth ahalf-cent to kill a "nigger, " and a half-cent to bury one. 

CHAPTER V

As to my own treatment while I lived on Colonel Lloyd's plantation, it was very similar to that of the other slave children. I was not oldenough to work in the field, and there being little else than field workto do, I had a great deal of leisure time. The most I had to do was todrive up the cows at evening, keep the fowls out of the garden, keep thefront yard clean, and run of errands for my old master's daughter, Mrs. Lucretia Auld. The most of my leisure time I spent in helping MasterDaniel Lloyd in finding his birds, after he had shot them. My connectionwith Master Daniel was of some advantage to me. He became quite attachedto me, and was a sort of protector of me. He would not allow the olderboys to impose upon me, and would divide his cakes with me. 

I was seldom whipped by my old master, and suffered little from anything else than hunger and cold. I suffered much from hunger, but muchmore from cold. In hottest summer and coldest winter, I was kept almostnaked--no shoes, no stockings, no jacket, no trousers, nothing on but acoarse tow linen shirt, reaching only to my knees. I had no bed. I musthave perished with cold, but that, the coldest nights, I used to steala bag which was used for carrying corn to the mill. I would crawl intothis bag, and there sleep on the cold, damp, clay floor, with my head inand feet out. My feet have been so cracked with the frost, that the penwith which I am writing might be laid in the gashes. 

We were not regularly allowanced. Our food was coarse corn meal boiled. This was called MUSH. It was put into a large wooden tray or trough, andset down upon the ground. The children were then called, like so manypigs, and like so many pigs they would come and devour the mush; somewith oyster-shells, others with pieces of shingle, some with nakedhands, and none with spoons. He that ate fastest got most; he that wasstrongest secured the best place; and few left the trough satisfied. 

I was probably between seven and eight years old when I left ColonelLloyd's plantation. I left it with joy. I shall never forget the ecstasywith which I received the intelligence that my old master (Anthony)had determined to let me go to Baltimore, to live with Mr. Hugh Auld, brother to my old master's son-in-law, Captain Thomas Auld. I receivedthis information about three days before my departure. They were threeof the happiest days I ever enjoyed. I spent the most part of all thesethree days in the creek, washing off the plantation scurf, and preparingmyself for my departure. 

The pride of appearance which this would indicate was not my own. Ispent the time in washing, not so much because I wished to, but becauseMrs. Lucretia had told me I must get all the dead skin off my feet andknees before I could go to Baltimore; for the people in Baltimore werevery cleanly, and would laugh at me if I looked dirty. Besides, she wasgoing to give me a pair of trousers, which I should not put on unlessI got all the dirt off me. The thought of owning a pair of trousers wasgreat indeed! It was almost a sufficient motive, not only to make metake off what would be called by pig-drovers the mange, but the skinitself. I went at it in good earnest, working for the first time withthe hope of reward. 

The ties that ordinarily bind children to their homes were all suspendedin my case. I found no severe trial in my departure. My home wascharmless; it was not home to me; on parting from it, I could not feelthat I was leaving any thing which I could have enjoyed by staying. Mymother was dead, my grandmother lived far off, so that I seldom saw her. I had two sisters and one brother, that lived in the same house with me;but the early separation of us from our mother had well nigh blotted thefact of our relationship from our memories. I looked for home elsewhere, and was confident of finding none which I should relish less than theone which I was leaving. If, however, I found in my new home hardship, hunger, whipping, and nakedness, I had the consolation that I should nothave escaped any one of them by staying. Having already had more thana taste of them in the house of my old master, and having endured themthere, I very naturally inferred my ability to endure them elsewhere, and especially at Baltimore; for I had something of the feeling aboutBaltimore that is expressed in the proverb, that "being hanged inEngland is preferable to dying a natural death in Ireland. " I had thestrongest desire to see Baltimore. Cousin Tom, though not fluent inspeech, had inspired me with that desire by his eloquent descriptionof the place. I could never point out any thing at the Great House, no matter how beautiful or powerful, but that he had seen something atBaltimore far exceeding, both in beauty and strength, the object which Ipointed out to him. Even the Great House itself, with all its pictures, was far inferior to many buildings in Baltimore. So strong was mydesire, that I thought a gratification of it would fully compensatefor whatever loss of comforts I should sustain by the exchange. I leftwithout a regret, and with the highest hopes of future happiness. 

We sailed out of Miles River for Baltimore on a Saturday morning. Iremember only the day of the week, for at that time I had no knowledgeof the days of the month, nor the months of the year. On setting sail, Iwalked aft, and gave to Colonel Lloyd's plantation what I hoped would bethe last look. I then placed myself in the bows of the sloop, and therespent the remainder of the day in looking ahead, interesting myself inwhat was in the distance rather than in things near by or behind. 

In the afternoon of that day, we reached Annapolis, the capital of theState. We stopped but a few moments, so that I had no time to go onshore. It was the first large town that I had ever seen, and though itwould look small compared with some of our New England factory villages, I thought it a wonderful place for its size--more imposing even than theGreat House Farm!

We arrived at Baltimore early on Sunday morning, landing at Smith'sWharf, not far from Bowley's Wharf. We had on board the sloop a largeflock of sheep; and after aiding in driving them to the slaughterhouseof Mr. Curtis on Louden Slater's Hill, I was conducted by Rich, one ofthe hands belonging on board of the sloop, to my new home in AllicianaStreet, near Mr. Gardner's ship-yard, on Fells Point. 

Mr. And Mrs. Auld were both at home, and met me at the door with theirlittle son Thomas, to take care of whom I had been given. And here I sawwhat I had never seen before; it was a white face beaming with the mostkindly emotions; it was the face of my new mistress, Sophia Auld. I wishI could describe the rapture that flashed through my soul as I beheldit. It was a new and strange sight to me, brightening up my pathwaywith the light of happiness. Little Thomas was told, there was hisFreddy, --and I was told to take care of little Thomas; and thus Ientered upon the duties of my new home with the most cheering prospectahead. 

I look upon my departure from Colonel Lloyd's plantation as one ofthe most interesting events of my life. It is possible, and even quiteprobable, that but for the mere circumstance of being removed from thatplantation to Baltimore, I should have to-day, instead of being hereseated by my own table, in the enjoyment of freedom and the happinessof home, writing this Narrative, been confined in the galling chains ofslavery. Going to live at Baltimore laid the foundation, and opened thegateway, to all my subsequent prosperity. I have ever regarded it as thefirst plain manifestation of that kind providence which has ever sinceattended me, and marked my life with so many favors. I regarded theselection of myself as being somewhat remarkable. There were a numberof slave children that might have been sent from the plantation toBaltimore. There were those younger, those older, and those of the sameage. I was chosen from among them all, and was the first, last, and onlychoice. 

I may be deemed superstitious, and even egotistical, in regarding thisevent as a special interposition of divine Providence in my favor. ButI should be false to the earliest sentiments of my soul, if I suppressedthe opinion. I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard ofincurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and incur myown abhorrence. From my earliest recollection, I date the entertainmentof a deep conviction that slavery would not always be able to holdme within its foul embrace; and in the darkest hours of my career inslavery, this living word of faith and spirit of hope departed not fromme, but remained like ministering angels to cheer me through the gloom. This good spirit was from God, and to him I offer thanksgiving andpraise. 

CHAPTER VI

My new mistress proved to be all she appeared when I first met her atthe door, --a woman of the kindest heart and finest feelings. She hadnever had a slave under her control previously to myself, and prior toher marriage she had been dependent upon her own industry for a living. She was by trade a weaver; and by constant application to her business, she had been in a good degree preserved from the blighting anddehumanizing effects of slavery. I was utterly astonished at hergoodness. I scarcely knew how to behave towards her. She was entirelyunlike any other white woman I had ever seen. I could not approach heras I was accustomed to approach other white ladies. My early instructionwas all out of place. The crouching servility, usually so acceptable aquality in a slave, did not answer when manifested toward her. Her favorwas not gained by it; she seemed to be disturbed by it. She did notdeem it impudent or unmannerly for a slave to look her in the face. The meanest slave was put fully at ease in her presence, and noneleft without feeling better for having seen her. Her face was made ofheavenly smiles, and her voice of tranquil music. 

But, alas! this kind heart had but a short time to remain such. Thefatal poison of irresponsible power was already in her hands, and sooncommenced its infernal work. That cheerful eye, under the influenceof slavery, soon became red with rage; that voice, made all of sweetaccord, changed to one of harsh and horrid discord; and that angelicface gave place to that of a demon. 

Very soon after I went to live with Mr. And Mrs. Auld, she very kindlycommenced to teach me the A, B, C. After I had learned this, sheassisted me in learning to spell words of three or four letters. Just atthis point of my progress, Mr. Auld found out what was going on, and atonce forbade Mrs. Auld to instruct me further, telling her, among otherthings, that it was unlawful, as well as unsafe, to teach a slave toread. To use his own words, further, he said, "If you give a nigger aninch, he will take an ell. A nigger should know nothing but to obeyhis master--to do as he is told to do. Learning would _spoil_ the bestnigger in the world. Now, " said he, "if you teach that nigger (speakingof myself) how to read, there would be no keeping him. It would foreverunfit him to be a slave. He would at once become unmanageable, and of novalue to his master. As to himself, it could do him no good, but a greatdeal of harm. It would make him discontented and unhappy. " Thesewords sank deep into my heart, stirred up sentiments within that layslumbering, and called into existence an entirely new train of thought. It was a new and special revelation, explaining dark and mysteriousthings, with which my youthful understanding had struggled, butstruggled in vain. I now understood what had been to me a mostperplexing difficulty--to wit, the white man's power to enslave theblack man. It was a grand achievement, and I prized it highly. From thatmoment, I understood the pathway from slavery to freedom. It was justwhat I wanted, and I got it at a time when I the least expected it. Whilst I was saddened by the thought of losing the aid of my kindmistress, I was gladdened by the invaluable instruction which, by themerest accident, I had gained from my master. Though conscious of thedifficulty of learning without a teacher, I set out with high hope, anda fixed purpose, at whatever cost of trouble, to learn how to read. Thevery decided manner with which he spoke, and strove to impress his wifewith the evil consequences of giving me instruction, served to convinceme that he was deeply sensible of the truths he was uttering. It gave methe best assurance that I might rely with the utmost confidence on theresults which, he said, would flow from teaching me to read. What hemost dreaded, that I most desired. What he most loved, that I mosthated. That which to him was a great evil, to be carefully shunned, wasto me a great good, to be diligently sought; and the argument which heso warmly urged, against my learning to read, only served to inspireme with a desire and determination to learn. In learning to read, I owealmost as much to the bitter opposition of my master, as to the kindlyaid of my mistress. I acknowledge the benefit of both. 

I had resided but a short time in Baltimore before I observed a markeddifference, in the treatment of slaves, from that which I had witnessedin the country. A city slave is almost a freeman, compared with aslave on the plantation. He is much better fed and clothed, and enjoysprivileges altogether unknown to the slave on the plantation. There isa vestige of decency, a sense of shame, that does much to curb andcheck those outbreaks of atrocious cruelty so commonly enacted upon theplantation. He is a desperate slaveholder, who will shock the humanityof his non-slaveholding neighbors with the cries of his lacerated slave. Few are willing to incur the odium attaching to the reputation of beinga cruel master; and above all things, they would not be known as notgiving a slave enough to eat. Every city slaveholder is anxious to haveit known of him, that he feeds his slaves well; and it is due to themto say, that most of them do give their slaves enough to eat. There are, however, some painful exceptions to this rule. Directly opposite to us, on Philpot Street, lived Mr. Thomas Hamilton. He owned two slaves. Theirnames were Henrietta and Mary. Henrietta was about twenty-two yearsof age, Mary was about fourteen; and of all the mangled and emaciatedcreatures I ever looked upon, these two were the most so. His heartmust be harder than stone, that could look upon these unmoved. Thehead, neck, and shoulders of Mary were literally cut to pieces. I havefrequently felt her head, and found it nearly covered with festeringsores, caused by the lash of her cruel mistress. I do not know that hermaster ever whipped her, but I have been an eye-witness to the crueltyof Mrs. Hamilton. I used to be in Mr. Hamilton's house nearly every day. Mrs. Hamilton used to sit in a large chair in the middle of the room, with a heavy cowskin always by her side, and scarce an hour passedduring the day but was marked by the blood of one of these slaves. Thegirls seldom passed her without her saying, "Move faster, you _blackgip!_" at the same time giving them a blow with the cowskin over thehead or shoulders, often drawing the blood. She would then say, "Takethat, you _black gip!_" continuing, "If you don't move faster, I'll moveyou!" Added to the cruel lashings to which these slaves were subjected, they were kept nearly half-starved. They seldom knew what it was to eata full meal. I have seen Mary contending with the pigs for the offalthrown into the street. So much was Mary kicked and cut to pieces, thatshe was oftener called "_pecked_" than by her name. 

CHAPTER VII

I lived in Master Hugh's family about seven years. During this time, Isucceeded in learning to read and write. In accomplishing this, I wascompelled to resort to various stratagems. I had no regular teacher. Mymistress, who had kindly commenced to instruct me, had, in compliancewith the advice and direction of her husband, not only ceased toinstruct, but had set her face against my being instructed by any oneelse. It is due, however, to my mistress to say of her, that she didnot adopt this course of treatment immediately. She at first lacked thedepravity indispensable to shutting me up in mental darkness. It wasat least necessary for her to have some training in the exercise ofirresponsible power, to make her equal to the task of treating me asthough I were a brute. 

My mistress was, as I have said, a kind and tenderhearted woman; and inthe simplicity of her soul she commenced, when I first went to live withher, to treat me as she supposed one human being ought to treat another. In entering upon the duties of a slaveholder, she did not seem toperceive that I sustained to her the relation of a mere chattel, andthat for her to treat me as a human being was not only wrong, butdangerously so. Slavery proved as injurious to her as it did to me. WhenI went there, she was a pious, warm, and tender-hearted woman. There wasno sorrow or suffering for which she had not a tear. She had bread forthe hungry, clothes for the naked, and comfort for every mourner thatcame within her reach. Slavery soon proved its ability to divest her ofthese heavenly qualities. Under its influence, the tender heart becamestone, and the lamblike disposition gave way to one of tiger-likefierceness. The first step in her downward course was in her ceasing toinstruct me. She now commenced to practise her husband's precepts. Shefinally became even more violent in her opposition than her husbandhimself. She was not satisfied with simply doing as well as he hadcommanded; she seemed anxious to do better. Nothing seemed to make hermore angry than to see me with a newspaper. She seemed to think thathere lay the danger. I have had her rush at me with a face made all upof fury, and snatch from me a newspaper, in a manner that fully revealedher apprehension. She was an apt woman; and a little experience soondemonstrated, to her satisfaction, that education and slavery wereincompatible with each other. 

From this time I was most narrowly watched. If I was in a separate roomany considerable length of time, I was sure to be suspected of havinga book, and was at once called to give an account of myself. All this, however, was too late. The first step had been taken. Mistress, inteaching me the alphabet, had given me the _inch, _ and no precautioncould prevent me from taking the _ell. _

The plan which I adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of making friends of all the little white boys whom I met inthe street. As many of these as I could, I converted into teachers. Withtheir kindly aid, obtained at different times and in different places, I finally succeeded in learning to read. When I was sent of errands, Ialways took my book with me, and by going one part of my errand quickly, I found time to get a lesson before my return. I used also to carrybread with me, enough of which was always in the house, and to which Iwas always welcome; for I was much better off in this regard than manyof the poor white children in our neighborhood. This bread I used tobestow upon the hungry little urchins, who, in return, would give methat more valuable bread of knowledge. I am strongly tempted to givethe names of two or three of those little boys, as a testimonial of thegratitude and affection I bear them; but prudence forbids;--not thatit would injure me, but it might embarrass them; for it is almost anunpardonable offence to teach slaves to read in this Christian country. It is enough to say of the dear little fellows, that they lived onPhilpot Street, very near Durgin and Bailey's ship-yard. I used to talkthis matter of slavery over with them. I would sometimes say to them, Iwished I could be as free as they would be when they got to be men. "Youwill be free as soon as you are twenty-one, _but I am a slave for life!_Have not I as good a right to be free as you have?" These words usedto trouble them; they would express for me the liveliest sympathy, andconsole me with the hope that something would occur by which I might befree. 

I was now about twelve years old, and the thought of being _a slave forlife_ began to bear heavily upon my heart. Just about this time, I gothold of a book entitled "The Columbian Orator. " Every opportunity Igot, I used to read this book. Among much of other interesting matter, I found in it a dialogue between a master and his slave. The slave wasrepresented as having run away from his master three times. The dialoguerepresented the conversation which took place between them, when theslave was retaken the third time. In this dialogue, the whole argumentin behalf of slavery was brought forward by the master, all of which wasdisposed of by the slave. The slave was made to say some very smart aswell as impressive things in reply to his master--things which had thedesired though unexpected effect; for the conversation resulted in thevoluntary emancipation of the slave on the part of the master. 

In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on andin behalf of Catholic emancipation. These were choice documents to me. I read them over and over again with unabated interest. They gave tongueto interesting thoughts of my own soul, which had frequently flashedthrough my mind, and died away for want of utterance. The moral which Igained from the dialogue was the power of truth over the conscience ofeven a slaveholder. What I got from Sheridan was a bold denunciationof slavery, and a powerful vindication of human rights. The readingof these documents enabled me to utter my thoughts, and to meet thearguments brought forward to sustain slavery; but while they relievedme of one difficulty, they brought on another even more painful thanthe one of which I was relieved. The more I read, the more I was ledto abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other lightthan a band of successful robbers, who had left their homes, and gone toAfrica, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land reducedus to slavery. I loathed them as being the meanest as well as the mostwicked of men. As I read and contemplated the subject, behold! that verydiscontentment which Master Hugh had predicted would follow my learningto read had already come, to torment and sting my soul to unutterableanguish. As I writhed under it, I would at times feel that learning toread had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a viewof my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to thehorrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments ofagony, I envied my fellow-slaves for their stupidity. I have oftenwished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptileto my own. Any thing, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It wasthis everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me. There wasno getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object withinsight or hearing, animate or inanimate. The silver trump of freedomhad roused my soul to eternal wakefulness. Freedom now appeared, todisappear no more forever. It was heard in every sound, and seen inevery thing. It was ever present to torment me with a sense of mywretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, I heard nothingwithout hearing it, and felt nothing without feeling it. It looked fromevery star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and movedin every storm. 

I often found myself regretting my own existence, and wishing myselfdead; and but for the hope of being free, I have no doubt but that Ishould have killed myself, or done something for which I should havebeen killed. While in this state of mind, I was eager to hear any onespeak of slavery. I was a ready listener. Every little while, I couldhear something about the abolitionists. It was some time before I foundwhat the word meant. It was always used in such connections as to makeit an interesting word to me. If a slave ran away and succeeded ingetting clear, or if a slave killed his master, set fire to a barn, ordid any thing very wrong in the mind of a slaveholder, it was spoken ofas the fruit of _abolition. _ Hearing the word in this connection veryoften, I set about learning what it meant. The dictionary afforded melittle or no help. I found it was "the act of abolishing;" but then Idid not know what was to be abolished. Here I was perplexed. I did notdare to ask any one about its meaning, for I was satisfied that it wassomething they wanted me to know very little about. After a patientwaiting, I got one of our city papers, containing an account of thenumber of petitions from the north, praying for the abolition of slaveryin the District of Columbia, and of the slave trade between the States. From this time I understood the words _abolition_ and _abolitionist, _and always drew near when that word was spoken, expecting to hearsomething of importance to myself and fellow-slaves. The light broke inupon me by degrees. I went one day down on the wharf of Mr. Waters;and seeing two Irishmen unloading a scow of stone, I went, unasked, andhelped them. When we had finished, one of them came to me and askedme if I were a slave. I told him I was. He asked, "Are ye a slave forlife?" I told him that I was. The good Irishman seemed to be deeplyaffected by the statement. He said to the other that it was a pity sofine a little fellow as myself should be a slave for life. He said itwas a shame to hold me. They both advised me to run away to the north;that I should find friends there, and that I should be free. I pretendednot to be interested in what they said, and treated them as if I did notunderstand them; for I feared they might be treacherous. White men havebeen known to encourage slaves to escape, and then, to get the reward, catch them and return them to their masters. I was afraid that theseseemingly good men might use me so; but I nevertheless remembered theiradvice, and from that time I resolved to run away. I looked forward toa time at which it would be safe for me to escape. I was too young tothink of doing so immediately; besides, I wished to learn how to write, as I might have occasion to write my own pass. I consoled myself withthe hope that I should one day find a good chance. Meanwhile, I wouldlearn to write. 

The idea as to how I might learn to write was suggested to me bybeing in Durgin and Bailey's ship-yard, and frequently seeing the shipcarpenters, after hewing, and getting a piece of timber ready for use, write on the timber the name of that part of the ship for which it wasintended. When a piece of timber was intended for the larboard side, itwould be marked thus--"L. " When a piece was for the starboard side, itwould be marked thus--"S. " A piece for the larboard side forward, wouldbe marked thus--"L. F. " When a piece was for starboard side forward, it would be marked thus--"S. F. " For larboard aft, it would be markedthus--"L. A. " For starboard aft, it would be marked thus--"S. A. " I soonlearned the names of these letters, and for what they were intended whenplaced upon a piece of timber in the ship-yard. I immediately commencedcopying them, and in a short time was able to make the four lettersnamed. After that, when I met with any boy who I knew could write, Iwould tell him I could write as well as he. The next word would be, "Idon't believe you. Let me see you try it. " I would then make the letterswhich I had been so fortunate as to learn, and ask him to beat that. In this way I got a good many lessons in writing, which it is quitepossible I should never have gotten in any other way. During this time, my copy-book was the board fence, brick wall, and pavement; my pen andink was a lump of chalk. With these, I learned mainly how to write. Ithen commenced and continued copying the Italics in Webster's SpellingBook, until I could make them all without looking on the book. By thistime, my little Master Thomas had gone to school, and learned how towrite, and had written over a number of copy-books. These had beenbrought home, and shown to some of our near neighbors, and then laidaside. My mistress used to go to class meeting at the Wilk Streetmeetinghouse every Monday afternoon, and leave me to take care of thehouse. When left thus, I used to spend the time in writing in thespaces left in Master Thomas's copy-book, copying what he had written. Icontinued to do this until I could write a hand very similar to that ofMaster Thomas. Thus, after a long, tedious effort for years, I finallysucceeded in learning how to write. 

CHAPTER VIII

In a very short time after I went to live at Baltimore, my old master'syoungest son Richard died; and in about three years and six monthsafter his death, my old master, Captain Anthony, died, leaving only hisson, Andrew, and daughter, Lucretia, to share his estate. He died whileon a visit to see his daughter at Hillsborough. Cut off thusunexpectedly, he left no will as to the disposal of his property. It wastherefore necessary to have a valuation of the property, that it mightbe equally divided between Mrs. Lucretia and Master Andrew. I wasimmediately sent for, to be valued with the other property. Here againmy feelings rose up in detestation of slavery. I had now a newconception of my degraded condition. Prior to this, I had become, if notinsensible to my lot, at least partly so. I left Baltimore with a youngheart overborne with sadness, and a soul full of apprehension. I tookpassage with Captain Rowe, in the schooner Wild Cat, and, after a sailof about twenty-four hours, I found myself near the place of my birth. Ihad now been absent from it almost, if not quite, five years. I, however, remembered the place very well. I was only about five years oldwhen I left it, to go and live with my old master on Colonel Lloyd'splantation; so that I was now between ten and eleven years old. 

We were all ranked together at the valuation. Men and women, old andyoung, married and single, were ranked with horses, sheep, and swine. There were horses and men, cattle and women, pigs and children, allholding the same rank in the scale of being, and were all subjected tothe same narrow examination. Silvery-headed age and sprightly youth, maids and matrons, had to undergo the same indelicate inspection. Atthis moment, I saw more clearly than ever the brutalizing effects ofslavery upon both slave and slaveholder. 

After the valuation, then came the division. I have no language toexpress the high excitement and deep anxiety which were felt among uspoor slaves during this time. Our fate for life was now to be decided. We had no more voice in that decision than the brutes among whom we wereranked. A single word from the white men was enough--against all ourwishes, prayers, and entreaties--to sunder forever the dearest friends, dearest kindred, and strongest ties known to human beings. In additionto the pain of separation, there was the horrid dread of falling intothe hands of Master Andrew. He was known to us all as being a most cruelwretch, --a common drunkard, who had, by his reckless mismanagement andprofligate dissipation, already wasted a large portion of his father'sproperty. We all felt that we might as well be sold at once to theGeorgia traders, as to pass into his hands; for we knew that that wouldbe our inevitable condition, --a condition held by us all in the utmosthorror and dread. 

I suffered more anxiety than most of my fellowslaves. I had known whatit was to be kindly treated; they had known nothing of the kind. Theyhad seen little or nothing of the world. They were in very deed men andwomen of sorrow, and acquainted with grief. Their backs had been madefamiliar with the bloody lash, so that they had become callous; mine wasyet tender; for while at Baltimore I got few whippings, and few slavescould boast of a kinder master and mistress than myself; and the thoughtof passing out of their hands into those of Master Andrew--a man who, but a few days before, to give me a sample of his bloody disposition, took my little brother by the throat, threw him on the ground, and withthe heel of his boot stamped upon his head till the blood gushed fromhis nose and ears--was well calculated to make me anxious as to my fate. After he had committed this savage outrage upon my brother, he turnedto me, and said that was the way he meant to serve me one of thesedays, --meaning, I suppose, when I came into his possession. 

Thanks to a kind Providence, I fell to the portion of Mrs. Lucretia, andwas sent immediately back to Baltimore, to live again in the familyof Master Hugh. Their joy at my return equalled their sorrow at mydeparture. It was a glad day to me. I had escaped a worse than lion'sjaws. I was absent from Baltimore, for the purpose of valuation anddivision, just about one month, and it seemed to have been six. 

Very soon after my return to Baltimore, my mistress, Lucretia, died, leaving her husband and one child, Amanda; and in a very short timeafter her death, Master Andrew died. Now all the property of my oldmaster, slaves included, was in the hands of strangers, --strangers whohad had nothing to do with accumulating it. Not a slave was left free. All remained slaves, from the youngest to the oldest. If any one thingin my experience, more than another, served to deepen my convictionof the infernal character of slavery, and to fill me with unutterableloathing of slaveholders, it was their base ingratitude to my poor oldgrandmother. She had served my old master faithfully from youth to oldage. She had been the source of all his wealth; she had peopled hisplantation with slaves; she had become a great grandmother in hisservice. She had rocked him in infancy, attended him in childhood, served him through life, and at his death wiped from his icy brow thecold death-sweat, and closed his eyes forever. She was nevertheless lefta slave--a slave for life--a slave in the hands of strangers; andin their hands she saw her children, her grandchildren, and hergreat-grandchildren, divided, like so many sheep, without beinggratified with the small privilege of a single word, as to their orher own destiny. And, to cap the climax of their base ingratitudeand fiendish barbarity, my grandmother, who was now very old, havingoutlived my old master and all his children, having seen the beginningand end of all of them, and her present owners finding she was of butlittle value, her frame already racked with the pains of old age, andcomplete helplessness fast stealing over her once active limbs, they took her to the woods, built her a little hut, put up a littlemud-chimney, and then made her welcome to the privilege of supportingherself there in perfect loneliness; thus virtually turning her out todie! If my poor old grandmother now lives, she lives to suffer in utterloneliness; she lives to remember and mourn over the loss of children, the loss of grandchildren, and the loss of great-grandchildren. They are, in the language of the slave's poet, Whittier, --

 "Gone, gone, sold and gone To the rice swamp dank and lone, Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings, Where the noisome insect stings, Where the fever-demon strews Poison with the falling dews, Where the sickly sunbeams glare Through the hot and misty air:-- Gone, gone, sold and gone To the rice swamp dank and lone, From Virginia hills and waters-- Woe is me, my stolen daughters!"

The hearth is desolate. The children, the unconscious children, who oncesang and danced in her presence, are gone. She gropes her way, in thedarkness of age, for a drink of water. Instead of the voices of herchildren, she hears by day the moans of the dove, and by night thescreams of the hideous owl. All is gloom. The grave is at the door. Andnow, when weighed down by the pains and aches of old age, when the headinclines to the feet, when the beginning and ending of human existencemeet, and helpless infancy and painful old age combine together--atthis time, this most needful time, the time for the exercise of thattenderness and affection which children only can exercise towards adeclining parent--my poor old grandmother, the devoted mother of twelvechildren, is left all alone, in yonder little hut, before a few dimembers. She stands--she sits--she staggers--she falls--she groans--shedies--and there are none of her children or grandchildren present, towipe from her wrinkled brow the cold sweat of death, or to place beneaththe sod her fallen remains. Will not a righteous God visit for thesethings?

In about two years after the death of Mrs. Lucretia, Master Thomasmarried his second wife. Her name was Rowena Hamilton. She was theeldest daughter of Mr. William Hamilton. Master now lived in St. Michael's. Not long after his marriage, a misunderstanding took placebetween himself and Master Hugh; and as a means of punishing hisbrother, he took me from him to live with himself at St. Michael's. HereI underwent another most painful separation. It, however, was not sosevere as the one I dreaded at the division of property; for, duringthis interval, a great change had taken place in Master Hugh and hisonce kind and affectionate wife. The influence of brandy upon him, andof slavery upon her, had effected a disastrous change in the charactersof both; so that, as far as they were concerned, I thought I had littleto lose by the change. But it was not to them that I was attached. Itwas to those little Baltimore boys that I felt the strongest attachment. I had received many good lessons from them, and was still receivingthem, and the thought of leaving them was painful indeed. I was leaving, too, without the hope of ever being allowed to return. Master Thomas hadsaid he would never let me return again. The barrier betwixt himself andbrother he considered impassable. 

I then had to regret that I did not at least make the attempt to carryout my resolution to run away; for the chances of success are tenfoldgreater from the city than from the country. 

I sailed from Baltimore for St. Michael's in the sloop Amanda, CaptainEdward Dodson. On my passage, I paid particular attention to thedirection which the steamboats took to go to Philadelphia. I found, instead of going down, on reaching North Point they went up the bay, in a north-easterly direction. I deemed this knowledge of the utmostimportance. My determination to run away was again revived. I resolvedto wait only so long as the offering of a favorable opportunity. Whenthat came, I was determined to be off. 

CHAPTER IX

I have now reached a period of my life when I can give dates. I leftBaltimore, and went to live with Master Thomas Auld, at St. Michael's, in March, 1832. It was now more than seven years since I lived with himin the family of my old master, on Colonel Lloyd's plantation. We ofcourse were now almost entire strangers to each other. He was to me anew master, and I to him a new slave. I was ignorant of his temper anddisposition; he was equally so of mine. A very short time, however, brought us into full acquaintance with each other. I was made acquaintedwith his wife not less than with himself. They were well matched, beingequally mean and cruel. I was now, for the first time during a space ofmore than seven years, made to feel the painful gnawings of hunger--asomething which I had not experienced before since I left ColonelLloyd's plantation. It went hard enough with me then, when I could lookback to no period at which I had enjoyed a sufficiency. It was tenfoldharder after living in Master Hugh's family, where I had always hadenough to eat, and of that which was good. I have said Master Thomas wasa mean man. He was so. Not to give a slave enough to eat, is regarded asthe most aggravated development of meanness even among slaveholders. Therule is, no matter how coarse the food, only let there be enough of it. This is the theory; and in the part of Maryland from which I came, it isthe general practice, --though there are many exceptions. Master Thomasgave us enough of neither coarse nor fine food. There were four slavesof us in the kitchen--my sister Eliza, my aunt Priscilla, Henny, andmyself; and we were allowed less than a half of a bushel of corn-mealper week, and very little else, either in the shape of meat orvegetables. It was not enough for us to subsist upon. We were thereforereduced to the wretched necessity of living at the expense of ourneighbors. This we did by begging and stealing, whichever came handy inthe time of need, the one being considered as legitimate as the other. A great many times have we poor creatures been nearly perishingwith hunger, when food in abundance lay mouldering in the safe andsmoke-house, and our pious mistress was aware of the fact; and yet thatmistress and her husband would kneel every morning, and pray that Godwould bless them in basket and store!

Bad as all slaveholders are, we seldom meet one destitute of everyelement of character commanding respect. My master was one of this raresort. I do not know of one single noble act ever performed by him. Theleading trait in his character was meanness; and if there were any otherelement in his nature, it was made subject to this. He was mean; and, like most other mean men, he lacked the ability to conceal his meanness. Captain Auld was not born a slaveholder. He had been a poor man, masteronly of a Bay craft. He came into possession of all his slaves bymarriage; and of all men, adopted slaveholders are the worst. He wascruel, but cowardly. He commanded without firmness. In the enforcementof his rules, he was at times rigid, and at times lax. At times, hespoke to his slaves with the firmness of Napoleon and the fury of ademon; at other times, he might well be mistaken for an inquirer whohad lost his way. He did nothing of himself. He might have passed for alion, but for his ears. In all things noble which he attempted, his ownmeanness shone most conspicuous. His airs, words, and actions, were theairs, words, and actions of born slaveholders, and, being assumed, wereawkward enough. He was not even a good imitator. He possessed all thedisposition to deceive, but wanted the power. Having no resources withinhimself, he was compelled to be the copyist of many, and being such, hewas forever the victim of inconsistency; and of consequence he was anobject of contempt, and was held as such even by his slaves. The luxuryof having slaves of his own to wait upon him was something new andunprepared for. He was a slaveholder without the ability to hold slaves. He found himself incapable of managing his slaves either by force, fear, or fraud. We seldom called him "master;" we generally called him"Captain Auld, " and were hardly disposed to title him at all. I doubtnot that our conduct had much to do with making him appear awkward, and of consequence fretful. Our want of reverence for him must haveperplexed him greatly. He wished to have us call him master, but lackedthe firmness necessary to command us to do so. His wife used to insistupon our calling him so, but to no purpose. In August, 1832, my masterattended a Methodist camp-meeting held in the Bay-side, Talbot county, and there experienced religion. I indulged a faint hope that hisconversion would lead him to emancipate his slaves, and that, if he didnot do this, it would, at any rate, make him more kind and humane. I wasdisappointed in both these respects. It neither made him to be humaneto his slaves, nor to emancipate them. If it had any effect on hischaracter, it made him more cruel and hateful in all his ways; for Ibelieve him to have been a much worse man after his conversion thanbefore. Prior to his conversion, he relied upon his own depravityto shield and sustain him in his savage barbarity; but after hisconversion, he found religious sanction and support for his slaveholdingcruelty. He made the greatest pretensions to piety. His house wasthe house of prayer. He prayed morning, noon, and night. He verysoon distinguished himself among his brethren, and was soon made aclass-leader and exhorter. His activity in revivals was great, and heproved himself an instrument in the hands of the church in convertingmany souls. His house was the preachers' home. They used to take greatpleasure in coming there to put up; for while he starved us, he stuffedthem. We have had three or four preachers there at a time. The namesof those who used to come most frequently while I lived there, were Mr. Storks, Mr. Ewery, Mr. Humphry, and Mr. Hickey. I have also seen Mr. George Cookman at our house. We slaves loved Mr. Cookman. We believedhim to be a good man. We thought him instrumental in getting Mr. SamuelHarrison, a very rich slaveholder, to emancipate his slaves; and by somemeans got the impression that he was laboring to effect the emancipationof all the slaves. When he was at our house, we were sure to be calledin to prayers. When the others were there, we were sometimes called inand sometimes not. Mr. Cookman took more notice of us than either ofthe other ministers. He could not come among us without betraying hissympathy for us, and, stupid as we were, we had the sagacity to see it. 

While I lived with my master in St. Michael's, there was a whiteyoung man, a Mr. Wilson, who proposed to keep a Sabbath school for theinstruction of such slaves as might be disposed to learn to read the NewTestament. We met but three times, when Mr. West and Mr. Fairbanks, both class-leaders, with many others, came upon us with sticks and othermissiles, drove us off, and forbade us to meet again. Thus ended ourlittle Sabbath school in the pious town of St. Michael's. 

I have said my master found religious sanction for his cruelty. As anexample, I will state one of many facts going to prove the charge. I have seen him tie up a lame young woman, and whip her with a heavycowskin upon her naked shoulders, causing the warm red blood to drip;and, in justification of the bloody deed, he would quote this passage ofScripture--"He that knoweth his master's will, and doeth it not, shallbe beaten with many stripes. "

Master would keep this lacerated young woman tied up in this horridsituation four or five hours at a time. I have known him to tie her upearly in the morning, and whip her before breakfast; leave her, go tohis store, return at dinner, and whip her again, cutting her in theplaces already made raw with his cruel lash. The secret of master'scruelty toward "Henny" is found in the fact of her being almosthelpless. When quite a child, she fell into the fire, and burned herselfhorribly. Her hands were so burnt that she never got the use of them. She could do very little but bear heavy burdens. She was to master abill of expense; and as he was a mean man, she was a constant offenceto him. He seemed desirous of getting the poor girl out of existence. He gave her away once to his sister; but, being a poor gift, she wasnot disposed to keep her. Finally, my benevolent master, to use hisown words, "set her adrift to take care of herself. " Here was arecently-converted man, holding on upon the mother, and at the same timeturning out her helpless child, to starve and die! Master Thomas was oneof the many pious slaveholders who hold slaves for the very charitablepurpose of taking care of them. 

My master and myself had quite a number of differences. He foundme unsuitable to his purpose. My city life, he said, had had a verypernicious effect upon me. It had almost ruined me for every goodpurpose, and fitted me for every thing which was bad. One of my greatestfaults was that of letting his horse run away, and go down to hisfather-inlaw's farm, which was about five miles from St. Michael's. Iwould then have to go after it. My reason for this kind of carelessness, or carefulness, was, that I could always get something to eat when Iwent there. Master William Hamilton, my master's father-in-law, alwaysgave his slaves enough to eat. I never left there hungry, no matterhow great the need of my speedy return. Master Thomas at length said hewould stand it no longer. I had lived with him nine months, duringwhich time he had given me a number of severe whippings, all to no goodpurpose. He resolved to put me out, as he said, to be broken; and, forthis purpose, he let me for one year to a man named Edward Covey. Mr. Covey was a poor man, a farm-renter. He rented the place upon which helived, as also the hands with which he tilled it. Mr. Covey had acquireda very high reputation for breaking young slaves, and this reputationwas of immense value to him. It enabled him to get his farm tilled withmuch less expense to himself than he could have had it done without sucha reputation. Some slaveholders thought it not much loss to allow Mr. Covey to have their slaves one year, for the sake of the training towhich they were subjected, without any other compensation. He could hireyoung help with great ease, in consequence of this reputation. Addedto the natural good qualities of Mr. Covey, he was a professor ofreligion--a pious soul--a member and a class-leader in theMethodist church. All of this added weight to his reputation as a"nigger-breaker. " I was aware of all the facts, having been madeacquainted with them by a young man who had lived there. I neverthelessmade the change gladly; for I was sure of getting enough to eat, whichis not the smallest consideration to a hungry man. 

CHAPTER X

I had left Master Thomas's house, and went to live with Mr. Covey, onthe 1st of January, 1833. I was now, for the first time in my life, afield hand. In my new employment, I found myself even more awkward thana country boy appeared to be in a large city. I had been at my new homebut one week before Mr. Covey gave me a very severe whipping, cutting myback, causing the blood to run, and raising ridges on my flesh as largeas my little finger. The details of this affair are as follows: Mr. Covey sent me, very early in the morning of one of our coldest days inthe month of January, to the woods, to get a load of wood. He gave mea team of unbroken oxen. He told me which was the in-hand ox, and whichthe off-hand one. He then tied the end of a large rope around the hornsof the in-hand ox, and gave me the other end of it, and told me, ifthe oxen started to run, that I must hold on upon the rope. I hadnever driven oxen before, and of course I was very awkward. I, however, succeeded in getting to the edge of the woods with little difficulty;but I had got a very few rods into the woods, when the oxen took fright, and started full tilt, carrying the cart against trees, and over stumps, in the most frightful manner. I expected every moment that my brainswould be dashed out against the trees. After running thus for aconsiderable distance, they finally upset the cart, dashing it withgreat force against a tree, and threw themselves into a dense thicket. How I escaped death, I do not know. There I was, entirely alone, in athick wood, in a place new to me. My cart was upset and shattered, myoxen were entangled among the young trees, and there was none tohelp me. After a long spell of effort, I succeeded in getting my cartrighted, my oxen disentangled, and again yoked to the cart. I nowproceeded with my team to the place where I had, the day before, beenchopping wood, and loaded my cart pretty heavily, thinking in this wayto tame my oxen. I then proceeded on my way home. I had now consumedone half of the day. I got out of the woods safely, and now felt out ofdanger. I stopped my oxen to open the woods gate; and just as I did so, before I could get hold of my ox-rope, the oxen again started, rushedthrough the gate, catching it between the wheel and the body of thecart, tearing it to pieces, and coming within a few inches of crushingme against the gate-post. Thus twice, in one short day, I escaped deathby the merest chance. On my return, I told Mr. Covey what had happened, and how it happened. He ordered me to return to the woods againimmediately. I did so, and he followed on after me. Just as I got intothe woods, he came up and told me to stop my cart, and that he wouldteach me how to trifle away my time, and break gates. He then went toa large gum-tree, and with his axe cut three large switches, and, aftertrimming them up neatly with his pocketknife, he ordered me to takeoff my clothes. I made him no answer, but stood with my clothes on. Herepeated his order. I still made him no answer, nor did I move to stripmyself. Upon this he rushed at me with the fierceness of a tiger, toreoff my clothes, and lashed me till he had worn out his switches, cuttingme so savagely as to leave the marks visible for a long time after. This whipping was the first of a number just like it, and for similaroffences. 

I lived with Mr. Covey one year. During the first six months, of thatyear, scarce a week passed without his whipping me. I was seldom freefrom a sore back. My awkwardness was almost always his excuse forwhipping me. We were worked fully up to the point of endurance. Longbefore day we were up, our horses fed, and by the first approach of daywe were off to the field with our hoes and ploughing teams. Mr. Coveygave us enough to eat, but scarce time to eat it. We were often lessthan five minutes taking our meals. We were often in the field from thefirst approach of day till its last lingering ray had left us; andat saving-fodder time, midnight often caught us in the field bindingblades. 

Covey would be out with us. The way he used to stand it, was this. Hewould spend the most of his afternoons in bed. He would then come outfresh in the evening, ready to urge us on with his words, example, andfrequently with the whip. Mr. Covey was one of the few slaveholders whocould and did work with his hands. He was a hard-working man. He knew byhimself just what a man or a boy could do. There was no deceiving him. His work went on in his absence almost as well as in his presence; andhe had the faculty of making us feel that he was ever present with us. This he did by surprising us. He seldom approached the spot where wewere at work openly, if he could do it secretly. He always aimed attaking us by surprise. Such was his cunning, that we used to call him, among ourselves, "the snake. " When we were at work in the cornfield, hewould sometimes crawl on his hands and knees to avoid detection, andall at once he would rise nearly in our midst, and scream out, "Ha, ha!Come, come! Dash on, dash on!" This being his mode of attack, it wasnever safe to stop a single minute. His comings were like a thief in thenight. He appeared to us as being ever at hand. He was under everytree, behind every stump, in every bush, and at every window, on theplantation. He would sometimes mount his horse, as if bound to St. Michael's, a distance of seven miles, and in half an hour afterwards youwould see him coiled up in the corner of the wood-fence, watching everymotion of the slaves. He would, for this purpose, leave his horse tiedup in the woods. Again, he would sometimes walk up to us, and give usorders as though he was upon the point of starting on a long journey, turn his back upon us, and make as though he was going to the houseto get ready; and, before he would get half way thither, he would turnshort and crawl into a fence-corner, or behind some tree, and therewatch us till the going down of the sun. 

Mr. Covey's FORTE consisted in his power to deceive. His life wasdevoted to planning and perpetrating the grossest deceptions. Everything he possessed in the shape of learning or religion, he made conformto his disposition to deceive. He seemed to think himself equal todeceiving the Almighty. He would make a short prayer in the morning, anda long prayer at night; and, strange as it may seem, few men wouldat times appear more devotional than he. The exercises of his familydevotions were always commenced with singing; and, as he was a very poorsinger himself, the duty of raising the hymn generally came upon me. Hewould read his hymn, and nod at me to commence. I would at times do so;at others, I would not. My non-compliance would almost always producemuch confusion. To show himself independent of me, he would start andstagger through with his hymn in the most discordant manner. In thisstate of mind, he prayed with more than ordinary spirit. Poor man! suchwas his disposition, and success at deceiving, I do verily believe thathe sometimes deceived himself into the solemn belief, that he was asincere worshipper of the most high God; and this, too, at a time whenhe may be said to have been guilty of compelling his woman slave tocommit the sin of adultery. The facts in the case are these: Mr. Coveywas a poor man; he was just commencing in life; he was only able to buyone slave; and, shocking as is the fact, he bought her, as he said, forA BREEDER. This woman was named Caroline. Mr. Covey bought her fromMr. Thomas Lowe, about six miles from St. Michael's. She was a large, able-bodied woman, about twenty years old. She had already given birthto one child, which proved her to be just what he wanted. After buyingher, he hired a married man of Mr. Samuel Harrison, to live with him oneyear; and him he used to fasten up with her every night! The result was, that, at the end of the year, the miserable woman gave birth to twins. At this result Mr. Covey seemed to be highly pleased, both with the manand the wretched woman. Such was his joy, and that of his wife, thatnothing they could do for Caroline during her confinement was too good, or too hard, to be done. The children were regarded as being quite anaddition to his wealth. 

If at any one time of my life more than another, I was made to drink thebitterest dregs of slavery, that time was during the first six months ofmy stay with Mr. Covey. We were worked in all weathers. It was never toohot or too cold; it could never rain, blow, hail, or snow, too hard forus to work in the field. Work, work, work, was scarcely more the orderof the day than of the night. The longest days were too short for him, and the shortest nights too long for him. I was somewhat unmanageablewhen I first went there, but a few months of this discipline tamed me. Mr. Covey succeeded in breaking me. I was broken in body, soul, andspirit. My natural elasticity was crushed, my intellect languished, thedisposition to read departed, the cheerful spark that lingered about myeye died; the dark night of slavery closed in upon me; and behold a mantransformed into a brute!

Sunday was my only leisure time. I spent this in a sort of beast-likestupor, between sleep and wake, under some large tree. At times Iwould rise up, a flash of energetic freedom would dart through my soul, accompanied with a faint beam of hope, that flickered for a moment, andthen vanished. I sank down again, mourning over my wretched condition. I was sometimes prompted to take my life, and that of Covey, but wasprevented by a combination of hope and fear. My sufferings on thisplantation seem now like a dream rather than a stern reality. 

Our house stood within a few rods of the Chesapeake Bay, whose broadbosom was ever white with sails from every quarter of the habitableglobe. Those beautiful vessels, robed in purest white, so delightful tothe eye of freemen, were to me so many shrouded ghosts, to terrify andtorment me with thoughts of my wretched condition. I have often, in thedeep stillness of a summer's Sabbath, stood all alone upon the loftybanks of that noble bay, and traced, with saddened heart and tearfuleye, the countless number of sails moving off to the mighty ocean. Thesight of these always affected me powerfully. My thoughts would compelutterance; and there, with no audience but the Almighty, I would pourout my soul's complaint, in my rude way, with an apostrophe to themoving multitude of ships:--

"You are loosed from your moorings, and are free; I am fast in mychains, and am a slave! You move merrily before the gentle gale, andI sadly before the bloody whip! You are freedom's swift-winged angels, that fly round the world; I am confined in bands of iron! O that Iwere free! O, that I were on one of your gallant decks, and under yourprotecting wing! Alas! betwixt me and you, the turbid waters roll. Goon, go on. O that I could also go! Could I but swim! If I could fly! O, why was I born a man, of whom to make a brute! The glad ship is gone;she hides in the dim distance. I am left in the hottest hell of unendingslavery. O God, save me! God, deliver me! Let me be free! Is there anyGod? 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 the fever. I have only one life to lose. I had as well be killed running as diestanding. Only think of it; one hundred miles straight north, and I amfree! Try it? Yes! God helping me, I will. It cannot be that I shalllive and die a slave. I will take to the water. This very bay shall yetbear me into freedom. The steamboats steered in a north-east course fromNorth 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 intoPennsylvania. When I get there, I shall not be required to have a pass;I can travel without being disturbed. Let but the first opportunityoffer, and, come what will, I am off. Meanwhile, I will try to bear upunder the yoke. I am not the only slave in the world. Why should I fret?I can bear as much as any of them. Besides, I am but a boy, and all boysare bound to some one. It may be that my misery in slavery will onlyincrease my happiness when I get free. There is a better day coming. "

Thus I used to think, and thus I used to speak to myself; goaded almostto madness at one moment, and at the next reconciling myself to mywretched lot. 

I have already intimated that my condition was much worse, during thefirst six months of my stay at Mr. Covey's, than in the last six. Thecircumstances leading to the change in Mr. Covey's course toward me forman epoch in my humble history. You have seen how a man was made a slave;you shall see how a slave was made a man. On one of the hottest daysof the month of August, 1833, Bill Smith, William Hughes, a slave namedEli, and myself, were engaged in fanning wheat. Hughes was clearing thefanned wheat from before the fan. Eli was turning, Smith was feeding, and I was carrying wheat to the fan. The work was simple, requiringstrength rather than intellect; yet, to one entirely unused to suchwork, it came very hard. About three o'clock of that day, I broke down;my strength failed me; I was seized with a violent aching of the head, attended with extreme dizziness; I trembled in every limb. Finding whatwas coming, I nerved myself up, feeling it would never do to stop work. I stood as long as I could stagger to the hopper with grain. When Icould stand no longer, I fell, and felt as if held down by an immenseweight. The fan of course stopped; every one had his own work to do;and no one could do the work of the other, and have his own go on at thesame time. 

Mr. Covey was at the house, about one hundred yards from thetreading-yard where we were fanning. On hearing the fan stop, he leftimmediately, and came to the spot where we were. He hastily inquiredwhat the matter was. Bill answered that I was sick, and there was noone to bring wheat to the fan. I had by this time crawled away under theside of the post and rail-fence by which the yard was enclosed, hopingto find relief by getting out of the sun. He then asked where I was. Hewas told by one of the hands. He came to the spot, and, after looking atme awhile, asked me what was the matter. I told him as well as I could, for I scarce had strength to speak. He then gave me a savage kick inthe side, and told me to get up. I tried to do so, but fell back in theattempt. He gave me another kick, and again told me to rise. I againtried, and succeeded in gaining my feet; but, stooping to get the tubwith which I was feeding the fan, I again staggered and fell. While downin this situation, Mr. Covey took up the hickory slat with which Hugheshad been striking off the half-bushel measure, and with it gave mea heavy blow upon the head, making a large wound, and the blood ranfreely; and with this again told me to get up. I made no effort tocomply, having now made up my mind to let him do his worst. In a shorttime after receiving this blow, my head grew better. Mr. Covey had nowleft me to my fate. At this moment I resolved, for the first time, to goto my master, enter a complaint, and ask his protection. In order todo this, I must that afternoon walk seven miles; and this, under thecircumstances, was truly a severe undertaking. I was exceedingly feeble;made so as much by the kicks and blows which I received, as by thesevere fit of sickness to which I had been subjected. I, however, watched my chance, while Covey was looking in an opposite direction, and started for St. Michael's. I succeeded in getting a considerabledistance on my way to the woods, when Covey discovered me, and calledafter me to come back, threatening what he would do if I did not come. Idisregarded both his calls and his threats, and made my way to thewoods as fast as my feeble state would allow; and thinking I mightbe overhauled by him if I kept the road, I walked through the woods, keeping far enough from the road to avoid detection, and near enoughto prevent losing my way. I had not gone far before my little strengthagain failed me. I could go no farther. I fell down, and lay for aconsiderable time. The blood was yet oozing from the wound on my head. For a time I thought I should bleed to death; and think now that Ishould have done so, but that the blood so matted my hair as to stopthe wound. After lying there about three quarters of an hour, I nervedmyself up again, and started on my way, through bogs and briers, barefooted and bareheaded, tearing my feet sometimes at nearly everystep; and after a journey of about seven miles, occupying some fivehours to perform it, I arrived at master's store. I then presented anappearance enough to affect any but a heart of iron. From the crown ofmy head to my feet, I was covered with blood. My hair was all clottedwith dust and blood; my shirt was stiff with blood. I suppose I lookedlike a man who had escaped a den of wild beasts, and barely escapedthem. In this state I appeared before my master, humbly entreatinghim to interpose his authority for my protection. I told him all thecircumstances as well as I could, and it seemed, as I spoke, at times toaffect him. He would then walk the floor, and seek to justify Covey bysaying he expected I deserved it. He asked me what I wanted. I told him, to let me get a new home; that as sure as I lived with Mr. Covey again, I should live with but to die with him; that Covey would surely kill me;he was in a fair way for it. Master Thomas ridiculed the idea that therewas any danger of Mr. Covey's killing me, and said that he knew Mr. Covey; that he was a good man, and that he could not think of taking mefrom him; that, should he do so, he would lose the whole year's wages;that I belonged to Mr. Covey for one year, and that I must go back tohim, come what might; and that I must not trouble him with any morestories, or that he would himself GET HOLD OF ME. After threatening methus, he gave me a very large dose of salts, telling me that I mightremain in St. Michael's that night, (it being quite late, ) but that Imust be off back to Mr. Covey's early in the morning; and that if I didnot, he would _get hold of me, _ which meant that he would whip me. I remained all night, and, according to his orders, I started off toCovey's in the morning, (Saturday morning, ) wearied in body and brokenin spirit. I got no supper that night, or breakfast that morning. Ireached Covey's about nine o'clock; and just as I was getting over thefence that divided Mrs. Kemp's fields from ours, out ran Covey withhis cowskin, to give me another whipping. Before he could reach me, Isucceeded in getting to the cornfield; and as the corn was very high, itafforded me the means of hiding. He seemed very angry, and searched forme a long time. My behavior was altogether unaccountable. He finallygave up the chase, thinking, I suppose, that I must come home forsomething to eat; he would give himself no further trouble in lookingfor me. I spent that day mostly in the woods, having the alternativebefore me, --to go home and be whipped to death, or stay in the woods andbe starved to death. That night, I fell in with Sandy Jenkins, a slavewith whom I was somewhat acquainted. Sandy had a free wife who livedabout four miles from Mr. Covey's; and it being Saturday, he was on hisway to see her. I told him my circumstances, and he very kindly invitedme to go home with him. I went home with him, and talked this wholematter over, and got his advice as to what course it was best for me topursue. I found Sandy an old adviser. He told me, with great solemnity, I must go back to Covey; but that before I went, I must go with him intoanother part of the woods, where there was a certain _root, _ which, ifI would take some of it with me, carrying it _always on my right side, _would render it impossible for Mr. Covey, or any other white man, towhip me. He said he had carried it for years; and since he had done so, he had never received a blow, and never expected to while he carried it. I at first rejected the idea, that the simple carrying of a root in mypocket would have any such effect as he had said, and was not disposedto take it; but Sandy impressed the necessity with much earnestness, telling me it could do no harm, if it did no good. To please him, I atlength took the root, and, according to his direction, carried it uponmy right side. This was Sunday morning. I immediately started forhome; and upon entering the yard gate, out came Mr. Covey on his way tomeeting. He spoke to me very kindly, bade me drive the pigs from a lotnear by, and passed on towards the church. Now, this singular conduct ofMr. Covey really made me begin to think that there was something in theROOT which Sandy had given me; and had it been on any other day thanSunday, I could have attributed the conduct to no other cause than theinfluence of that root; and as it was, I was half inclined to think the_root_ to be something more than I at first had taken it to be. All wentwell till Monday morning. On this morning, the virtue of the ROOT wasfully tested. Long before daylight, I was called to go and rub, curry, and feed, the horses. I obeyed, and was glad to obey. But whilst thusengaged, whilst in the act of throwing down some blades from the loft, Mr. Covey entered the stable with a long rope; and just as I was halfout of the loft, he caught hold of my legs, and was about tying me. Assoon as I found what he was up to, I gave a sudden spring, and as I didso, he holding to my legs, I was brought sprawling on the stable floor. Mr. Covey seemed now to think he had me, and could do what he pleased;but at this moment--from whence came the spirit I don't know--I resolvedto fight; and, suiting my action to the resolution, I seized Covey hardby the throat; and as I did so, I rose. He held on to me, and I to him. My resistance was so entirely unexpected that Covey seemed taken allaback. He trembled like a leaf. This gave me assurance, and I held himuneasy, causing the blood to run where I touched him with the ends of myfingers. Mr. Covey soon called out to Hughes for help. Hughes came, and, while Covey held me, attempted to tie my right hand. While he was in theact of doing so, I watched my chance, and gave him a heavy kick closeunder the ribs. This kick fairly sickened Hughes, so that he left me inthe hands of Mr. Covey. This kick had the effect of not only weakeningHughes, but Covey also. When he saw Hughes bending over with pain, hiscourage quailed. He asked me if I meant to persist in my resistance. Itold him I did, come what might; that he had used me like a brute forsix months, and that I was determined to be used so no longer. Withthat, he strove to drag me to a stick that was lying just out of thestable door. He meant to knock me down. But just as he was leaningover to get the stick, I seized him with both hands by his collar, andbrought him by a sudden snatch to the ground. By this time, Bill came. Covey called upon him for assistance. Bill wanted to know what he coulddo. Covey said, "Take hold of him, take hold of him!" Bill said hismaster hired him out to work, and not to help to whip me; so he leftCovey and myself to fight our own battle out. We were at it for nearlytwo hours. Covey at length let me go, puffing and blowing at a greatrate, saying that if I had not resisted, he would not have whippedme half so much. The truth was, that he had not whipped me at all. Iconsidered him as getting entirely the worst end of the bargain; forhe had drawn no blood from me, but I had from him. The whole six monthsafterwards, that I spent with Mr. Covey, he never laid the weight of hisfinger upon me in anger. He would occasionally say, he didn't want toget hold of me again. "No, " thought I, "you need not; for you will comeoff worse than you did before. "

This battle with Mr. Covey was the turning-point in my career as a slave. It rekindled the few expiring embers of freedom, and revived within mea sense of my own manhood. It recalled the departed self-confidence, and inspired me again with a determination to be free. The gratificationafforded by the triumph was a full compensation for whatever else mightfollow, even death itself. He only can understand the deep satisfactionwhich I experienced, who has himself repelled by force the bloody arm ofslavery. I felt as I never felt before. It was a glorious resurrection, from the tomb of slavery, to the heaven of freedom. My long-crushedspirit rose, cowardice departed, bold defiance took its place; and I nowresolved that, however long I might remain a slave in form, the day hadpassed forever when I could be a slave in fact. I did not hesitate tolet it be known of me, that the white man who expected to succeed inwhipping, must also succeed in killing me. 

From this time I was never again what might be called fairly whipped, though I remained a slave four years afterwards. I had several fights, but was never whipped. 

It was for a long time a matter of surprise to me why Mr. Covey did notimmediately have me taken by the constable to the whipping-post, andthere regularly whipped for the crime of raising my hand against a whiteman in defence of myself. And the only explanation I can now think ofdoes not entirely satisfy me; but such as it is, I will give it. Mr. Covey enjoyed the most unbounded reputation for being a first-rateoverseer and negro-breaker. It was of considerable importance to him. That reputation was at stake; and had he sent me--a boy about sixteenyears old--to the public whipping-post, his reputation would have beenlost; so, to save his reputation, he suffered me to go unpunished. 

My term of actual service to Mr. Edward Covey ended on Christmas day, 1833. The days between Christmas and New Year's day are allowed asholidays; and, accordingly, we were not required to perform any labor, more than to feed and take care of the stock. This time we regarded asour own, by the grace of our masters; and we therefore used or abused itnearly as we pleased. Those of us who had families at a distance, weregenerally allowed to spend the whole six days in their society. Thistime, however, was spent in various ways. The staid, sober, thinkingand industrious ones of our number would employ themselves in makingcorn-brooms, mats, horse-collars, and baskets; and another class of uswould spend the time in hunting opossums, hares, and coons. But by farthe larger part engaged in such sports and merriments as playing ball, wrestling, running foot-races, fiddling, dancing, and drinking whisky;and this latter mode of spending the time was by far the most agreeableto the feelings of our masters. A slave who would work during theholidays was considered by our masters as scarcely deserving them. Hewas regarded as one who rejected the favor of his master. It was deemeda disgrace not to get drunk at Christmas; and he was regarded as lazyindeed, who had not provided himself with the necessary means, duringthe year, to get whisky enough to last him through Christmas. 

From what I know of the effect of these holidays upon the slave, Ibelieve them to be among the most effective means in the hands ofthe slaveholder in keeping down the spirit of insurrection. Were theslaveholders at once to abandon this practice, I have not the slightestdoubt it would lead to an immediate insurrection among the slaves. These holidays serve as conductors, or safety-valves, to carry off therebellious spirit of enslaved humanity. But for these, the slave wouldbe forced up to the wildest desperation; and woe betide the slaveholder, the day he ventures to remove or hinder the operation of thoseconductors! I warn him that, in such an event, a spirit will go forth intheir midst, more to be dreaded than the most appalling earthquake. 

The holidays are part and parcel of the gross fraud, wrong, andinhumanity of slavery. They are professedly a custom established bythe benevolence of the slaveholders; but I undertake to say, it is theresult of selfishness, and one of the grossest frauds committed upon thedown-trodden slave. They do not give the slaves this time because theywould not like to have their work during its continuance, but becausethey know it would be unsafe to deprive them of it. This will be seenby the fact, that the slaveholders like to have their slaves spend thosedays just in such a manner as to make them as glad of their ending as oftheir beginning. Their object seems to be, to disgust their slaves withfreedom, by plunging them into the lowest depths of dissipation. Forinstance, the slaveholders not only like to see the slave drink of hisown accord, but will adopt various plans to make him drunk. One planis, to make bets on their slaves, as to who can drink the most whiskywithout getting drunk; and in this way they succeed in getting wholemultitudes to drink to excess. Thus, when the slave asks for virtuousfreedom, the cunning slaveholder, knowing his ignorance, cheats himwith a dose of vicious dissipation, artfully labelled with the name ofliberty. The most of us used to drink it down, and the result was justwhat might be supposed; many of us were led to think that there waslittle to choose between liberty and slavery. We felt, and very properlytoo, that we had almost as well be slaves to man as to rum. So, when theholidays ended, we staggered up from the filth of our wallowing, took along breath, and marched to the field, --feeling, upon the whole, ratherglad to go, from what our master had deceived us into a belief wasfreedom, back to the arms of slavery. 

I have said that this mode of treatment is a part of the whole systemof fraud and inhumanity of slavery. It is so. The mode here adopted todisgust the slave with freedom, by allowing him to see only the abuseof it, is carried out in other things. For instance, a slave lovesmolasses; he steals some. His master, in many cases, goes off to town, and buys a large quantity; he returns, takes his whip, and commands theslave to eat the molasses, until the poor fellow is made sick at thevery mention of it. The same mode is sometimes adopted to make theslaves refrain from asking for more food than their regular allowance. A slave runs through his allowance, and applies for more. His master isenraged at him; but, not willing to send him off without food, gives himmore than is necessary, and compels him to eat it within a given time. Then, if he complains that he cannot eat it, he is said to be satisfiedneither full nor fasting, and is whipped for being hard to please! Ihave an abundance of such illustrations of the same principle, drawnfrom my own observation, but think the cases I have cited sufficient. The practice is a very common one. 

On the first of January, 1834, I left Mr. Covey, and went to live withMr. William Freeland, who lived about three miles from St. Michael's. Isoon found Mr. Freeland a very different man from Mr. Covey. Though notrich, he was what would be called an educated southern gentleman. Mr. Covey, as I have shown, was a well-trained negro-breaker andslave-driver. The former (slaveholder though he was) seemed to possesssome regard for honor, some reverence for justice, and some respect forhumanity. The latter seemed totally insensible to all such sentiments. Mr. Freeland had many of the faults peculiar to slaveholders, such asbeing very passionate and fretful; but I must do him the justice to say, that he was exceedingly free from those degrading vices to which Mr. Covey was constantly addicted. The one was open and frank, and we alwaysknew where to find him. The other was a most artful deceiver, andcould be understood only by such as were skilful enough to detect hiscunningly-devised frauds. Another advantage I gained in my new masterwas, he made no pretensions to, or profession of, religion; and this, inmy opinion, was truly a great advantage. I assert most unhesitatingly, that the religion of the south is a mere covering for the most horridcrimes, --a justifier of the most appalling barbarity, --a sanctifier ofthe most hateful frauds, --and a dark shelter under, which the darkest, foulest, grossest, and most infernal deeds of slaveholders find thestrongest protection. Were I to be again reduced to the chains ofslavery, next to that enslavement, I should regard being the slave of areligious master the greatest calamity that could befall me. For of allslaveholders with whom I have ever met, religious slaveholders are theworst. I have ever found them the meanest and basest, the most cruel andcowardly, of all others. It was my unhappy lot not only to belong to areligious slaveholder, but to live in a community of such religionists. Very near Mr. Freeland lived the Rev. Daniel Weeden, and in the sameneighborhood lived the Rev. Rigby Hopkins. These were members andministers in the Reformed Methodist Church. Mr. Weeden owned, amongothers, a woman slave, whose name I have forgotten. This woman'sback, for weeks, was kept literally raw, made so by the lash of thismerciless, _religious_ wretch. He used to hire hands. His maxim was, Behave well or behave ill, it is the duty of a master occasionally towhip a slave, to remind him of his master's authority. Such was histheory, and such his practice. 

Mr. Hopkins was even worse than Mr. Weeden. His chief boast was hisability to manage slaves. The peculiar feature of his government wasthat of whipping slaves in advance of deserving it. He always managed tohave one or more of his slaves to whip every Monday morning. He did thisto alarm their fears, and strike terror into those who escaped. Hisplan was to whip for the smallest offences, to prevent the commissionof large ones. Mr. Hopkins could always find some excuse for whippinga slave. It would astonish one, unaccustomed to a slaveholding life, tosee with what wonderful ease a slaveholder can find things, of which tomake occasion to whip a slave. A mere look, word, or motion, --a mistake, accident, or want of power, --are all matters for which a slave may bewhipped at any time. Does a slave look dissatisfied? It is said, he hasthe devil in him, and it must be whipped out. Does he speak loudly whenspoken to by his master? Then he is getting high-minded, and should betaken down a button-hole lower. Does he forget to pull off his hat atthe approach of a white person? Then he is wanting in reverence, andshould be whipped for it. Does he ever venture to vindicate his conduct, when censured for it? Then he is guilty of impudence, --one of thegreatest crimes of which a slave can be guilty. Does he ever venture tosuggest a different mode of doing things from that pointed out byhis master? He is indeed presumptuous, and getting above himself; andnothing less than a flogging will do for him. Does he, while ploughing, break a plough, --or, while hoeing, break a hoe? It is owing to hiscarelessness, and for it a slave must always be whipped. Mr. Hopkinscould always find something of this sort to justify the use of the lash, and he seldom failed to embrace such opportunities. There was not a manin the whole county, with whom the slaves who had the getting their ownhome, would not prefer to live, rather than with this Rev. Mr. Hopkins. And yet there was not a man any where round, who made higher professionsof religion, or was more active in revivals, --more attentive to theclass, love-feast, prayer and preaching meetings, or more devotional inhis family, --that prayed earlier, later, louder, and longer, --than thissame reverend slave-driver, Rigby Hopkins. 

But to return to Mr. Freeland, and to my experience while in hisemployment. He, like Mr. Covey, gave us enough to eat; but, unlike Mr. Covey, he also gave us sufficient time to take our meals. He worked ushard, but always between sunrise and sunset. He required a good deal ofwork to be done, but gave us good tools with which to work. His farm waslarge, but he employed hands enough to work it, and with ease, comparedwith many of his neighbors. My treatment, while in his employment, washeavenly, compared with what I experienced at the hands of Mr. EdwardCovey. 

Mr. Freeland was himself the owner of but two slaves. Their names wereHenry Harris and John Harris. The rest of his hands he hired. Theseconsisted of myself, Sandy Jenkins, * and Handy Caldwell. 

 *This is the same man who gave me the roots to prevent my being whipped by Mr. Covey. He was "a clever soul. " We used frequently to talk about the fight with Covey, and as often as we did so, he would claim my success as the result of the roots which he gave me. This superstition is very common among the more ignorant slaves. A slave seldom dies but that his death is attributed to trickery. 

Henry and John were quite intelligent, and in a very little while afterI went there, I succeeded in creating in them a strong desire to learnhow to read. This desire soon sprang up in the others also. They verysoon mustered up some old spelling-books, and nothing would do but thatI must keep a Sabbath school. I agreed to do so, and accordingly devotedmy Sundays to teaching these my loved fellow-slaves how to read. Neitherof them knew his letters when I went there. Some of the slaves of theneighboring farms found what was going on, and also availed themselvesof this little opportunity to learn to read. It was understood, amongall who came, that there must be as little display about it as possible. It was necessary to keep our religious masters at St. Michael'sunacquainted with the fact, that, instead of spending the Sabbath inwrestling, boxing, and drinking whisky, we were trying to learn how toread the will of God; for they had much rather see us engaged in thosedegrading sports, than to see us behaving like intellectual, moral, andaccountable beings. My blood boils as I think of the bloody manner inwhich Messrs. Wright Fairbanks and Garrison West, both class-leaders, inconnection with many others, rushed in upon us with sticks and stones, and broke up our virtuous little Sabbath school, at St. Michael's--allcalling themselves Christians! humble followers of the Lord JesusChrist! But I am again digressing. 

I held my Sabbath school at the house of a free colored man, whosename I deem it imprudent to mention; for should it be known, it mightembarrass him greatly, though the crime of holding the school wascommitted ten years ago. I had at one time over forty scholars, andthose of the right sort, ardently desiring to learn. They were of allages, though mostly men and women. I look back to those Sundays with anamount of pleasure not to be expressed. They were great days to mysoul. The work of instructing my dear fellow-slaves was the sweetestengagement with which I was ever blessed. We loved each other, and toleave them at the close of the Sabbath was a severe cross indeed. WhenI think that these precious souls are to-day shut up in the prison-houseof slavery, my feelings overcome me, and I am almost ready to ask, "Does a righteous God govern the universe? and for what does he hold thethunders in his right hand, if not to smite the oppressor, and deliverthe spoiled out of the hand of the spoiler?" These dear souls came notto Sabbath school because it was popular to do so, nor did I teach thembecause it was reputable to be thus engaged. Every moment they spentin that school, they were liable to be taken up, and given thirty-ninelashes. They came because they wished to learn. Their minds hadbeen starved by their cruel masters. They had been shut up in mentaldarkness. I taught them, because it was the delight of my soul to bedoing something that looked like bettering the condition of my race. Ikept up my school nearly the whole year I lived with Mr. Freeland; and, beside my Sabbath school, I devoted three evenings in the week, duringthe winter, to teaching the slaves at home. And I have the happiness toknow, that several of those who came to Sabbath school learned how toread; and that one, at least, is now free through my agency. 

The year passed off smoothly. It seemed only about half as long as theyear which preceded it. I went through it without receiving a singleblow. I will give Mr. Freeland the credit of being the best masterI ever had, _till I became my own master. _ For the ease with which Ipassed the year, I was, however, somewhat indebted to the society ofmy fellow-slaves. They were noble souls; they not only possessed lovinghearts, but brave ones. We were linked and interlinked with each other. I loved them with a love stronger than any thing I have experiencedsince. It is sometimes said that we slaves do not love and confide ineach other. In answer to this assertion, I can say, I never loved any orconfided in any people more than my fellowslaves, and especially thosewith whom I lived at Mr. Freeland's. I believe we would have died foreach other. We never undertook to do any thing, of any importance, without a mutual consultation. We never moved separately. We wereone; and as much so by our tempers and dispositions, as by the mutualhardships to which we were necessarily subjected by our condition asslaves. 

At the close of the year 1834, Mr. Freeland again hired me of my master, for the year 1835. But, by this time, I began to want to live _uponfree land_ as well as _with freeland;_ and I was no longer content, therefore, to live with him or any other slaveholder. I began, with thecommencement of the year, to prepare myself for a final struggle, whichshould decide my fate one way or the other. My tendency was upward. Iwas fast approaching manhood, and year after year had passed, and Iwas still a slave. These thoughts roused me--I must do something. Itherefore resolved that 1835 should not pass without witnessing anattempt, on my part, to secure my liberty. But I was not willing tocherish this determination alone. My fellow-slaves were dear to me. Iwas anxious to have them participate with me in this, my life-givingdetermination. I therefore, though with great prudence, commenced earlyto ascertain their views and feelings in regard to their condition, andto imbue their minds with thoughts of freedom. I bent myself to devisingways and means for our escape, and meanwhile strove, on all fittingoccasions, to impress them with the gross fraud and inhumanity ofslavery. I went first to Henry, next to John, then to the others. Ifound, in them all, warm hearts and noble spirits. They were ready tohear, and ready to act when a feasible plan should be proposed. This waswhat I wanted. I talked to them of our want of manhood, if we submittedto our enslavement without at least one noble effort to be free. We metoften, and consulted frequently, and told our hopes and fears, recountedthe difficulties, real and imagined, which we should be called on tomeet. At times we were almost disposed to give up, and try to contentourselves with our wretched lot; at others, we were firm and unbendingin our determination to go. Whenever we suggested any plan, there wasshrinking--the odds were fearful. Our path was beset with the greatestobstacles; and if we succeeded in gaining the end of it, our right to befree was yet questionable--we were yet liable to be returned to bondage. We could see no spot, this side of the ocean, where we could be free. We knew nothing about Canada. Our knowledge of the north did not extendfarther than New York; and to go there, and be forever harassed with thefrightful liability of being returned to slavery--with the certaintyof being treated tenfold worse than before--the thought was trulya horrible one, and one which it was not easy to overcome. The casesometimes stood thus: At every gate through which we were to pass, wesaw a watchman--at every ferry a guard--on every bridge a sentinel--andin every wood a patrol. We were hemmed in upon every side. Here were thedifficulties, real or imagined--the good to be sought, and the evilto be shunned. On the one hand, there stood slavery, a stern reality, glaring frightfully upon us, --its robes already crimsoned with the bloodof millions, and even now feasting itself greedily upon our own flesh. On the other hand, away back in the dim distance, under the flickeringlight of the north star, behind some craggy hill or snow-coveredmountain, stood a doubtful freedom--half frozen--beckoning us to comeand share its hospitality. This in itself was sometimes enough tostagger us; but when we permitted ourselves to survey the road, we werefrequently appalled. Upon either side we saw grim death, assuming themost horrid shapes. Now it was starvation, causing us to eat our ownflesh;--now we were contending with the waves, and were drowned;--nowwe were overtaken, and torn to pieces by the fangs of the terriblebloodhound. We were stung by scorpions, chased by wild beasts, bittenby snakes, and finally, after having nearly reached the desiredspot, --after swimming rivers, encountering wild beasts, sleeping inthe woods, suffering hunger and nakedness, --we were overtaken by ourpursuers, and, in our resistance, we were shot dead upon the spot! Isay, this picture sometimes appalled us, and made us

 "rather bear those ills we had, Than fly to others, that we knew not of. "

In coming to a fixed determination to run away, we did more than PatrickHenry, when he resolved upon liberty or death. With us it was a doubtfulliberty at most, and almost certain death if we failed. For my part, Ishould prefer death to hopeless bondage. 

Sandy, one of our number, gave up the notion, but still encouraged us. Our company then consisted of Henry Harris, John Harris, Henry Bailey, Charles Roberts, and myself. Henry Bailey was my uncle, and belongedto my master. Charles married my aunt: he belonged to my master'sfather-in-law, Mr. William Hamilton. 

The plan we finally concluded upon was, to get a large canoe belongingto Mr. Hamilton, and upon the Saturday night previous to Easterholidays, paddle directly up the Chesapeake Bay. On our arrival at thehead of the bay, a distance of seventy or eighty miles from where welived, it was our purpose to turn our canoe adrift, and follow theguidance of the north star till we got beyond the limits of Maryland. Our reason for taking the water route was, that we were less liable tobe suspected as runaways; we hoped to be regarded as fishermen;whereas, if we should take the land route, we should be subjected tointerruptions of almost every kind. Any one having a white face, andbeing so disposed, could stop us, and subject us to examination. 

The week before our intended start, I wrote several protections, one foreach of us. As well as I can remember, they were in the following words, to wit:--

"This is to certify that I, the undersigned, have given the bearer, myservant, full liberty to go to Baltimore, and spend the Easter holidays. Written with mine own hand, &c. , 1835. 

"WILLIAM HAMILTON, "Near St. Michael's, in Talbot county, Maryland. "

We were not going to Baltimore; but, in going up the bay, we went towardBaltimore, and these protections were only intended to protect us whileon the bay. 

As the time drew near for our departure, our anxiety became more andmore intense. It was truly a matter of life and death with us. Thestrength of our determination was about to be fully tested. At thistime, I was very active in explaining every difficulty, removing everydoubt, dispelling every fear, and inspiring all with the firmnessindispensable to success in our undertaking; assuring them that half wasgained the instant we made the move; we had talked long enough; we werenow ready to move; if not now, we never should be; and if we didnot intend to move now, we had as well fold our arms, sit down, andacknowledge ourselves fit only to be slaves. This, none of us wereprepared to acknowledge. Every man stood firm; and at our last meeting, we pledged ourselves afresh, in the most solemn manner, that, at thetime appointed, we would certainly start in pursuit of freedom. Thiswas in the middle of the week, at the end of which we were to be off. Wewent, as usual, to our several fields of labor, but with bosoms highlyagitated with thoughts of our truly hazardous undertaking. We tried toconceal our feelings as much as possible; and I think we succeeded verywell. 

After a painful waiting, the Saturday morning, whose night was towitness our departure, came. I hailed it with joy, bring what of sadnessit might. Friday night was a sleepless one for me. I probably felt moreanxious than the rest, because I was, by common consent, at the head ofthe whole affair. The responsibility of success or failure lay heavilyupon me. The glory of the one, and the confusion of the other, werealike mine. The first two hours of that morning were such as I neverexperienced before, and hope never to again. Early in the morning, wewent, as usual, to the field. We were spreading manure; and all at once, while thus engaged, I was overwhelmed with an indescribable feeling, inthe fulness of which I turned to Sandy, who was near by, and said, "Weare betrayed!" "Well, " said he, "that thought has this moment struckme. " We said no more. I was never more certain of any thing. 

The horn was blown as usual, and we went up from the field to the housefor breakfast. I went for the form, more than for want of any thing toeat that morning. Just as I got to the house, in looking out at the lanegate, I saw four white men, with two colored men. The white men wereon horseback, and the colored ones were walking behind, as if tied. Iwatched them a few moments till they got up to our lane gate. Here theyhalted, and tied the colored men to the gate-post. I was not yet certainas to what the matter was. In a few moments, in rode Mr. Hamilton, witha speed betokening great excitement. He came to the door, and inquiredif Master William was in. He was told he was at the barn. Mr. Hamilton, without dismounting, rode up to the barn with extraordinary speed. Ina few moments, he and Mr. Freeland returned to the house. By this time, the three constables rode up, and in great haste dismounted, tied theirhorses, and met Master William and Mr. Hamilton returning from the barn;and after talking awhile, they all walked up to the kitchen door. Therewas no one in the kitchen but myself and John. Henry and Sandy were upat the barn. Mr. Freeland put his head in at the door, and called me byname, saying, there were some gentlemen at the door who wished to seeme. I stepped to the door, and inquired what they wanted. They at onceseized me, and, without giving me any satisfaction, tied me--lashingmy hands closely together. I insisted upon knowing what the matter was. They at length said, that they had learned I had been in a "scrape, "and that I was to be examined before my master; and if their informationproved false, I should not be hurt. 

In a few moments, they succeeded in tying John. They then turned toHenry, who had by this time returned, and commanded him to cross hishands. "I won't!" said Henry, in a firm tone, indicating his readinessto meet the consequences of his refusal. "Won't you?" said Tom Graham, the constable. "No, I won't!" said Henry, in a still stronger tone. Withthis, two of the constables pulled out their shining pistols, and swore, by their Creator, that they would make him cross his hands or kill him. Each cocked his pistol, and, with fingers on the trigger, walked up toHenry, saying, at the same time, if he did not cross his hands, theywould blow his damned heart out. "Shoot me, shoot me!" said Henry;"you can't kill me but once. Shoot, shoot, --and be damned! _I won't betied!_" This he said in a tone of loud defiance; and at the same time, with a motion as quick as lightning, he with one single stroke dashedthe pistols from the hand of each constable. As he did this, allhands fell upon him, and, after beating him some time, they finallyoverpowered him, and got him tied. 

During the scuffle, I managed, I know not how, to get my pass out, and, without being discovered, put it into the fire. We were all now tied;and just as we were to leave for Easton jail, Betsy Freeland, mother ofWilliam Freeland, came to the door with her hands full of biscuits, anddivided them between Henry and John. She then delivered herself of aspeech, to the following effect:--addressing herself to me, she said, "_You devil! You yellow devil!_ it was you that put it into the heads ofHenry and John to run away. But for you, you long-legged mulatto devil!Henry nor John would never have thought of such a thing. " I made noreply, and was immediately hurried off towards St. Michael's. Just amoment previous to the scuffle with Henry, Mr. Hamilton suggested thepropriety of making a search for the protections which he had understoodFrederick had written for himself and the rest. But, just at the momenthe was about carrying his proposal into effect, his aid was needed inhelping to tie Henry; and the excitement attending the scuffle causedthem either to forget, or to deem it unsafe, under the circumstances, tosearch. So we were not yet convicted of the intention to run away. 

When we got about half way to St. Michael's, while the constables havingus in charge were looking ahead, Henry inquired of me what he should dowith his pass. I told him to eat it with his biscuit, and own nothing;and we passed the word around, "_Own nothing;_" and "_Own nothing!_"said we all. Our confidence in each other was unshaken. We were resolvedto succeed or fail together, after the calamity had befallen us as muchas before. We were now prepared for any thing. We were to be draggedthat morning fifteen miles behind horses, and then to be placed inthe Easton jail. When we reached St. Michael's, we underwent a sort ofexamination. We all denied that we ever intended to run away. We didthis more to bring out the evidence against us, than from any hope ofgetting clear of being sold; for, as I have said, we were ready forthat. The fact was, we cared but little where we went, so we wenttogether. Our greatest concern was about separation. We dreaded thatmore than any thing this side of death. We found the evidence against usto be the testimony of one person; our master would not tell who itwas; but we came to a unanimous decision among ourselves as to whotheir informant was. We were sent off to the jail at Easton. When we gotthere, we were delivered up to the sheriff, Mr. Joseph Graham, and byhim placed in jail. Henry, John, and myself, were placed in one roomtogether--Charles, and Henry Bailey, in another. Their object inseparating us was to hinder concert. 

We had been in jail scarcely twenty minutes, when a swarm of slavetraders, and agents for slave traders, flocked into jail to look at us, and to ascertain if we were for sale. Such a set of beings I never sawbefore! I felt myself surrounded by so many fiends from perdition. Aband of pirates never looked more like their father, the devil. Theylaughed and grinned over us, saying, "Ah, my boys! we have got you, haven't we?" And after taunting us in various ways, they one by onewent into an examination of us, with intent to ascertain our value. They would impudently ask us if we would not like to have them for ourmasters. We would make them no answer, and leave them to find out asbest they could. Then they would curse and swear at us, telling us thatthey could take the devil out of us in a very little while, if we wereonly in their hands. 

While in jail, we found ourselves in much more comfortable quarters thanwe expected when we went there. We did not get much to eat, nor thatwhich was very good; but we had a good clean room, from the windows ofwhich we could see what was going on in the street, which was very muchbetter than though we had been placed in one of the dark, damp cells. Upon the whole, we got along very well, so far as the jail and itskeeper were concerned. Immediately after the holidays were over, contrary to all our expectations, Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Freeland came upto Easton, and took Charles, the two Henrys, and John, out of jail, andcarried them home, leaving me alone. I regarded this separation asa final one. It caused me more pain than any thing else in the wholetransaction. I was ready for any thing rather than separation. Isupposed that they had consulted together, and had decided that, as Iwas the whole cause of the intention of the others to run away, it washard to make the innocent suffer with the guilty; and that they had, therefore, concluded to take the others home, and sell me, as a warningto the others that remained. It is due to the noble Henry to say, heseemed almost as reluctant at leaving the prison as at leaving hometo come to the prison. But we knew we should, in all probability, be separated, if we were sold; and since he was in their hands, heconcluded to go peaceably home. 

I was now left to my fate. I was all alone, and within the walls of astone prison. But a few days before, and I was full of hope. I expectedto have been safe in a land of freedom; but now I was covered withgloom, sunk down to the utmost despair. I thought the possibility offreedom was gone. I was kept in this way about one week, at the end ofwhich, Captain Auld, my master, to my surprise and utter astonishment, came up, and took me out, with the intention of sending me, with agentleman of his acquaintance, into Alabama. But, from some cause orother, he did not send me to Alabama, but concluded to send me back toBaltimore, to live again with his brother Hugh, and to learn a trade. 

Thus, after an absence of three years and one month, I was once morepermitted to return to my old home at Baltimore. My master sent meaway, because there existed against me a very great prejudice in thecommunity, and he feared I might be killed. 

In a few weeks after I went to Baltimore, Master Hugh hired me to Mr. William Gardner, an extensive ship-builder, on Fell's Point. I was putthere to learn how to calk. It, however, proved a very unfavorable placefor the accomplishment of this object. Mr. Gardner was engaged thatspring in building two large man-of-war brigs, professedly for theMexican government. The vessels were to be launched in the July of thatyear, and in failure thereof, Mr. Gardner was to lose a considerablesum; so that when I entered, all was hurry. There was no time to learnany thing. Every man had to do that which he knew how to do. In enteringthe shipyard, my orders from Mr. Gardner were, to do whatever thecarpenters commanded me to do. This was placing me at the beck and callof about seventy-five men. I was to regard all these as masters. Theirword was to be my law. My situation was a most trying one. At times Ineeded a dozen pair of hands. I was called a dozen ways in the space ofa single minute. Three or four voices would strike my ear at the samemoment. It was--"Fred. , come help me to cant this timber here. "--"Fred. , come carry this timber yonder. "--"Fred. , bring that rollerhere. "--"Fred. , go get a fresh can of water. "--"Fred. , come help sawoff the end of this timber. "--"Fred. , go quick, and get thecrowbar. "--"Fred. , hold on the end of this fall. "--"Fred. , go to theblacksmith's shop, and get a new punch. "--"Hurra, Fred! run and bringme a cold chisel. "--"I say, Fred. , bear a hand, and get up a fire asquick as lightning under that steam-box. "--"Halloo, nigger! come, turn this grindstone. "--"Come, come! move, move! and BOWSE this timberforward. "--"I say, darky, blast your eyes, why don't you heat up somepitch?"--"Halloo! halloo! halloo!" (Three voices at the same time. )"Come here!--Go there!--Hold on where you are! Damn you, if you move, I'll knock your brains out!"

This was my school for eight months; and I might have remained therelonger, but for a most horrid fight I had with four of the whiteapprentices, in which my left eye was nearly knocked out, and I washorribly mangled in other respects. The facts in the case werethese: Until a very little while after I went there, white and blackship-carpenters worked side by side, and no one seemed to see anyimpropriety in it. All hands seemed to be very well satisfied. Many ofthe black carpenters were freemen. Things seemed to be going on verywell. All at once, the white carpenters knocked off, and said they wouldnot work with free colored workmen. Their reason for this, as alleged, was, that if free colored carpenters were encouraged, they would soontake the trade into their own hands, and poor white men would be thrownout of employment. They therefore felt called upon at once to put a stopto it. And, taking advantage of Mr. Gardner's necessities, they brokeoff, swearing they would work no longer, unless he would discharge hisblack carpenters. Now, though this did not extend to me in form, itdid reach me in fact. My fellow-apprentices very soon began to feel itdegrading to them to work with me. They began to put on airs, andtalk about the "niggers" taking the country, saying we all ought to bekilled; and, being encouraged by the journeymen, they commencedmaking my condition as hard as they could, by hectoring me around, andsometimes striking me. I, of course, kept the vow I made after the fightwith Mr. Covey, and struck back again, regardless of consequences; andwhile I kept them from combining, I succeeded very well; for I couldwhip the whole of them, taking them separately. They, however, atlength combined, and came upon me, armed with sticks, stones, and heavyhandspikes. One came in front with a half brick. There was one at eachside of me, and one behind me. While I was attending to those in front, and on either side, the one behind ran up with the handspike, and struckme a heavy blow upon the head. It stunned me. I fell, and with this theyall ran upon me, and fell to beating me with their fists. I let themlay on for a while, gathering strength. In an instant, I gave a suddensurge, and rose to my hands and knees. Just as I did that, one of theirnumber gave me, with his heavy boot, a powerful kick in the left eye. My eyeball seemed to have burst. When they saw my eye closed, and badlyswollen, they left me. With this I seized the handspike, and for a timepursued them. But here the carpenters interfered, and I thought I mightas well give it up. It was impossible to stand my hand against somany. All this took place in sight of not less than fifty whiteship-carpenters, and not one interposed a friendly word; but some cried, "Kill the damned nigger! Kill him! kill him! He struck a white person. "I found my only chance for life was in flight. I succeeded in gettingaway without an additional blow, and barely so; for to strike a whiteman is death by Lynch law, --and that was the law in Mr. Gardner'sship-yard; nor is there much of any other out of Mr. Gardner'sship-yard. 

I went directly home, and told the story of my wrongs to Master Hugh;and I am happy to say of him, irreligious as he was, his conductwas heavenly, compared with that of his brother Thomas under similarcircumstances. He listened attentively to my narration of thecircumstances leading to the savage outrage, and gave many proofs ofhis strong indignation at it. The heart of my once overkind mistress wasagain melted into pity. My puffed-out eye and blood-covered face movedher to tears. She took a chair by me, washed the blood from my face, and, with a mother's tenderness, bound up my head, covering the woundedeye with a lean piece of fresh beef. It was almost compensation for mysuffering to witness, once more, a manifestation of kindness from this, my once affectionate old mistress. Master Hugh was very much enraged. Hegave expression to his feelings by pouring out curses upon the headsof those who did the deed. As soon as I got a little the better of mybruises, he took me with him to Esquire Watson's, on Bond Street, tosee what could be done about the matter. Mr. Watson inquired who sawthe assault committed. Master Hugh told him it was done in Mr. Gardner'sship-yard at midday, where there were a large company of men at work. "As to that, " he said, "the deed was done, and there was no question asto who did it. " His answer was, he could do nothing in the case, unlesssome white man would come forward and testify. He could issue no warranton my word. If I had been killed in the presence of a thousand coloredpeople, their testimony combined would have been insufficient to havearrested one of the murderers. Master Hugh, for once, was compelled tosay this state of things was too bad. Of course, it was impossible toget any white man to volunteer his testimony in my behalf, and againstthe white young men. Even those who may have sympathized with me werenot prepared to do this. It required a degree of courage unknown to themto do so; for just at that time, the slightest manifestation of humanitytoward a colored person was denounced as abolitionism, and that namesubjected its bearer to frightful liabilities. The watchwords ofthe bloody-minded in that region, and in those days, were, "Damn theabolitionists!" and "Damn the niggers!" There was nothing done, andprobably nothing would have been done if I had been killed. Suchwas, and such remains, the state of things in the Christian city ofBaltimore. 

Master Hugh, finding he could get no redress, refused to let me go backagain to Mr. Gardner. He kept me himself, and his wife dressed my woundtill I was again restored to health. He then took me into the ship-yardof which he was foreman, in the employment of Mr. Walter Price. There Iwas immediately set to calking, and very soon learned the art of usingmy mallet and irons. In the course of one year from the time I left Mr. Gardner's, I was able to command the highest wages given to the mostexperienced calkers. I was now of some importance to my master. I wasbringing him from six to seven dollars per week. I sometimes brought himnine dollars per week: my wages were a dollar and a half a day. Afterlearning how to calk, I sought my own employment, made my own contracts, and collected the money which I earned. My pathway became much moresmooth than before; my condition was now much more comfortable. When Icould get no calking to do, I did nothing. During these leisure times, those old notions about freedom would steal over me again. When inMr. Gardner's employment, I was kept in such a perpetual whirl ofexcitement, I could think of nothing, scarcely, but my life; and inthinking of my life, I almost forgot my liberty. I have observed thisin my experience of slavery, --that whenever my condition was improved, instead of its increasing my contentment, it only increased my desireto be free, and set me to thinking of plans to gain my freedom. Ihave found that, to make a contented slave, it is necessary to make athoughtless one. It is necessary to darken his moral and mental vision, and, as far as possible, to annihilate the power of reason. He must beable to detect no inconsistencies in slavery; he must be made to feelthat slavery is right; and he can be brought to that only when he ceasesto be a man. 

I was now getting, as I have said, one dollar and fifty cents per day. Icontracted for it; I earned it; it was paid to me; it was rightfully myown; yet, upon each returning Saturday night, I was compelled to deliverevery cent of that money to Master Hugh. And why? Not because he earnedit, --not because he had any hand in earning it, --not because I owed itto him, --nor because he possessed the slightest shadow of a right toit; but solely because he had the power to compel me to give it up. Theright of the grim-visaged pirate upon the high seas is exactly the same. 

CHAPTER XI

I now come to that part of my life during which I planned, and finallysucceeded in making, my escape from slavery. But before narrating any ofthe peculiar circumstances, I deem it proper to make known my intentionnot to state all the facts connected with the transaction. My reasonsfor pursuing this course may be understood from the following: First, were I to give a minute statement of all the facts, it is not onlypossible, but quite probable, that others would thereby be involved inthe most embarrassing difficulties. Secondly, such a statement wouldmost undoubtedly induce greater vigilance on the part of slaveholdersthan has existed heretofore among them; which would, of course, be themeans of guarding a door whereby some dear brother bondman might escapehis galling chains. I deeply regret the necessity that impels meto suppress any thing of importance connected with my experience inslavery. It would afford me great pleasure indeed, as well as materiallyadd to the interest of my narrative, were I at liberty to gratify acuriosity, which I know exists in the minds of many, by an accuratestatement of all the facts pertaining to my most fortunate escape. ButI must deprive myself of this pleasure, and the curious of thegratification which such a statement would afford. I would allow myselfto suffer under the greatest imputations which evil-minded men mightsuggest, rather than exculpate myself, and thereby run the hazardof closing the slightest avenue by which a brother slave might clearhimself of the chains and fetters of slavery. 

I have never approved of the very public manner in which some ofour western friends have conducted what they call the _undergroundrailroad, _ but which I think, by their open declarations, has been mademost emphatically the _upper-ground railroad. _ I honor those good men andwomen for their noble daring, and applaud them for willingly subjectingthemselves to bloody persecution, by openly avowing their participationin the escape of slaves. I, however, can see very little good resultingfrom such a course, either to themselves or the slaves escaping; while, upon the other hand, I see and feel assured that those open declarationsare a positive evil to the slaves remaining, who are seeking to escape. They do nothing towards enlightening the slave, whilst they domuch towards enlightening the master. They stimulate him to greaterwatchfulness, and enhance his power to capture his slave. We owesomething to the slave south of the line as well as to those northof it; and in aiding the latter on their way to freedom, we should becareful to do nothing which would be likely to hinder the former fromescaping from slavery. I would keep the merciless slaveholder profoundlyignorant of the means of flight adopted by the slave. I would leave himto imagine himself surrounded by myriads of invisible tormentors, everready to snatch from his infernal grasp his trembling prey. Let him beleft to feel his way in the dark; let darkness commensurate with hiscrime hover over him; and let him feel that at every step he takes, in pursuit of the flying bondman, he is running the frightful risk ofhaving his hot brains dashed out by an invisible agency. Let us renderthe tyrant no aid; let us not hold the light by which he can trace thefootprints of our flying brother. But enough of this. I will now proceedto the statement of those facts, connected with my escape, for whichI am alone responsible, and for which no one can be made to suffer butmyself. 

In the early part of the year 1838, I became quite restless. I could seeno reason why I should, at the end of each week, pour the reward of mytoil into the purse of my master. When I carried to him my weeklywages, he would, after counting the money, look me in the face with arobber-like fierceness, and ask, "Is this all?" He was satisfied withnothing less than the last cent. He would, however, when I made himsix dollars, sometimes give me six cents, to encourage me. It had theopposite effect. I regarded it as a sort of admission of my right to thewhole. The fact that he gave me any part of my wages was proof, to mymind, that he believed me entitled to the whole of them. I always feltworse for having received any thing; for I feared that the giving me afew cents would ease his conscience, and make him feel himself to be apretty honorable sort of robber. My discontent grew upon me. I was everon the look-out for means of escape; and, finding no direct means, Idetermined to try to hire my time, with a view of getting money withwhich to make my escape. In the spring of 1838, when Master Thomas cameto Baltimore to purchase his spring goods, I got an opportunity, andapplied to him to allow me to hire my time. He unhesitatingly refused myrequest, and told me this was another stratagem by which to escape. Hetold me I could go nowhere but that he could get me; and that, in theevent of my running away, he should spare no pains in his efforts tocatch me. He exhorted me to content myself, and be obedient. He told me, if I would be happy, I must lay out no plans for the future. He said, ifI behaved myself properly, he would take care of me. Indeed, he advisedme to complete thoughtlessness of the future, and taught me to dependsolely upon him for happiness. He seemed to see fully the pressingnecessity of setting aside my intellectual nature, in order tocontentment in slavery. But in spite of him, and even in spite ofmyself, I continued to think, and to think about the injustice of myenslavement, and the means of escape. 

About two months after this, I applied to Master Hugh for the privilegeof hiring my time. He was not acquainted with the fact that I hadapplied to Master Thomas, and had been refused. He too, at first, seemed disposed to refuse; but, after some reflection, he granted me theprivilege, and proposed the following terms: I was to be allowed all mytime, make all contracts with those for whom I worked, and find my ownemployment; and, in return for this liberty, I was to pay him threedollars at the end of each week; find myself in calking tools, and inboard and clothing. My board was two dollars and a half per week. This, with the wear and tear of clothing and calking tools, made my regularexpenses about six dollars per week. This amount I was compelled to makeup, or relinquish the privilege of hiring my time. Rain or shine, workor no work, at the end of each week the money must be forthcoming, or Imust give up my privilege. This arrangement, it will be perceived, wasdecidedly in my master's favor. It relieved him of all need oflooking after me. His money was sure. He received all the benefitsof slaveholding without its evils; while I endured all the evils of aslave, and suffered all the care and anxiety of a freeman. I found it ahard bargain. But, hard as it was, I thought it better than the old modeof getting along. It was a step towards freedom to be allowed to bearthe responsibilities of a freeman, and I was determined to hold on uponit. I bent myself to the work of making money. I was ready to workat night as well as day, and by the most untiring perseverance andindustry, I made enough to meet my expenses, and lay up a little moneyevery week. I went on thus from May till August. Master Hugh thenrefused to allow me to hire my time longer. The ground for his refusalwas a failure on my part, one Saturday night, to pay him for my week'stime. This failure was occasioned by my attending a camp meetingabout ten miles from Baltimore. During the week, I had entered into anengagement with a number of young friends to start from Baltimore to thecamp ground early Saturday evening; and being detained by my employer, I was unable to get down to Master Hugh's without disappointing thecompany. I knew that Master Hugh was in no special need of the moneythat night. I therefore decided to go to camp meeting, and upon myreturn pay him the three dollars. I staid at the camp meeting one daylonger than I intended when I left. But as soon as I returned, I calledupon him to pay him what he considered his due. I found him very angry;he could scarce restrain his wrath. He said he had a great mind to giveme a severe whipping. He wished to know how I dared go out of the citywithout asking his permission. I told him I hired my time and whileI paid him the price which he asked for it, I did not know that I wasbound to ask him when and where I should go. This reply troubled him;and, after reflecting a few moments, he turned to me, and said I shouldhire my time no longer; that the next thing he should know of, I wouldbe running away. Upon the same plea, he told me to bring my tools andclothing home forthwith. I did so; but instead of seeking work, as I hadbeen accustomed to do previously to hiring my time, I spent the wholeweek without the performance of a single stroke of work. I did this inretaliation. Saturday night, he called upon me as usual for my week'swages. I told him I had no wages; I had done no work that week. Herewe were upon the point of coming to blows. He raved, and swore hisdetermination to get hold of me. I did not allow myself a single word;but was resolved, if he laid the weight of his hand upon me, it shouldbe blow for blow. He did not strike me, but told me that he would findme in constant employment in future. I thought the matter over duringthe next day, Sunday, and finally resolved upon the third day ofSeptember, as the day upon which I would make a second attempt tosecure my freedom. I now had three weeks during which to prepare for myjourney. Early on Monday morning, before Master Hugh had time to makeany engagement for me, I went out and got employment of Mr. Butler, athis ship-yard near the drawbridge, upon what is called the City Block, thus making it unnecessary for him to seek employment for me. At theend of the week, I brought him between eight and nine dollars. He seemedvery well pleased, and asked why I did not do the same the week before. He little knew what my plans were. My object in working steadily was toremove any suspicion he might entertain of my intent to run away; andin this I succeeded admirably. I suppose he thought I was never bettersatisfied with my condition than at the very time during which I wasplanning my escape. The second week passed, and again I carried himmy full wages; and so well pleased was he, that he gave me twenty-fivecents, (quite a large sum for a slaveholder to give a slave, ) and bademe to make a good use of it. I told him I would. 

Things went on without very smoothly indeed, but within there wastrouble. It is impossible for me to describe my feelings as the time ofmy contemplated start drew near. I had a number of warmhearted friendsin Baltimore, --friends that I loved almost as I did my life, --andthe thought of being separated from them forever was painful beyondexpression. It is my opinion that thousands would escape from slavery, who now remain, but for the strong cords of affection that bind them totheir friends. The thought of leaving my friends was decidedly the mostpainful thought with which I had to contend. The love of them was mytender point, and shook my decision more than all things else. Besidesthe pain of separation, the dread and apprehension of a failure exceededwhat I had experienced at my first attempt. The appalling defeat I thensustained returned to torment me. I felt assured that, if I failed inthis attempt, my case would be a hopeless one--it would seal my fate asa slave forever. I could not hope to get off with any thing less thanthe severest punishment, and being placed beyond the means of escape. Itrequired no very vivid imagination to depict the most frightful scenesthrough which I should have to pass, in case I failed. The wretchednessof slavery, and the blessedness of freedom, were perpetually before me. It was life and death with me. But I remained firm, and, according to myresolution, on the third day of September, 1838, I left my chains, andsucceeded in reaching New York without the slightest interruption of anykind. How I did so, --what means I adopted, --what direction I travelled, and by what mode of conveyance, --I must leave unexplained, for thereasons before mentioned. 

I have been frequently asked how I felt when I found myself in afree State. I have never been able to answer the question with anysatisfaction to myself. It was a moment of the highest excitement I everexperienced. I suppose I felt as one may imagine the unarmed mariner tofeel when he is rescued by a friendly man-of-war from the pursuit of apirate. In writing to a dear friend, immediately after my arrival at NewYork, I said I felt like one who had escaped a den of hungry lions. Thisstate of mind, however, very soon subsided; and I was again seized witha feeling of great insecurity and loneliness. I was yet liable to betaken back, and subjected to all the tortures of slavery. This initself was enough to damp the ardor of my enthusiasm. But the lonelinessovercame me. There I was in the midst of thousands, and yet a perfectstranger; without home and without friends, in the midst of thousandsof my own brethren--children of a common Father, and yet I dared not tounfold to any one of them my sad condition. I was afraid to speak to anyone for fear of speaking to the wrong one, and thereby falling into thehands of money-loving kidnappers, whose business it was to lie in waitfor the panting fugitive, as the ferocious beasts of the forest liein wait for their prey. The motto which I adopted when I started fromslavery was this--"Trust no man!" I saw in every white man an enemy, andin almost every colored man cause for distrust. It was a most painfulsituation; and, to understand it, one must needs experience it, orimagine himself in similar circumstances. Let him be a fugitive slavein a strange land--a land given up to be the hunting-ground forslaveholders--whose inhabitants are legalized kidnappers--where he isevery moment subjected to the terrible liability of being seized uponby his fellowmen, as the hideous crocodile seizes upon his prey!--I say, let him place himself in my situation--without home or friends--withoutmoney or credit--wanting shelter, and no one to give it--wanting bread, and no money to buy it, --and at the same time let him feel that he ispursued by merciless men-hunters, and in total darkness as to what todo, where to go, or where to stay, --perfectly helpless both as to themeans of defence and means of escape, --in the midst of plenty, yetsuffering the terrible gnawings of hunger, --in the midst of houses, yethaving no home, --among fellow-men, yet feeling as if in the midstof wild beasts, whose greediness to swallow up the trembling andhalf-famished fugitive is only equalled by that with which the monstersof the deep swallow up the helpless fish upon which they subsist, --Isay, let him be placed in this most trying situation, --the situation inwhich I was placed, --then, and not till then, will he fully appreciatethe hardships of, and know how to sympathize with, the toil-worn andwhip-scarred fugitive slave. 

Thank Heaven, I remained but a short time in this distressed situation. I was relieved from it by the humane hand of Mr. DAVID RUGGLES, whosevigilance, kindness, and perseverance, I shall never forget. I amglad of an opportunity to express, as far as words can, the love andgratitude I bear him. Mr. Ruggles is now afflicted with blindness, andis himself in need of the same kind offices which he was once so forwardin the performance of toward others. I had been in New York but a fewdays, when Mr. Ruggles sought me out, and very kindly took me to hisboarding-house at the corner of Church and Lespenard Streets. Mr. Ruggles was then very deeply engaged in the memorable _Darg_ case, aswell as attending to a number of other fugitive slaves, devising waysand means for their successful escape; and, though watched and hemmed inon almost every side, he seemed to be more than a match for his enemies. 

Very soon after I went to Mr. Ruggles, he wished to know of me whereI wanted to go; as he deemed it unsafe for me to remain in New York. Itold him I was a calker, and should like to go where I could get work. I thought of going to Canada; but he decided against it, and in favor ofmy going to New Bedford, thinking I should be able to get work there atmy trade. At this time, Anna, * my intended wife, came on; for I wroteto her immediately after my arrival at New York, (notwithstandingmy homeless, houseless, and helpless condition, ) informing her of mysuccessful flight, and wishing her to come on forthwith. In a few daysafter her arrival, Mr. Ruggles called in the Rev. J. W. C. Pennington, who, in the presence of Mr. Ruggles, Mrs. Michaels, and two or threeothers, performed the marriage ceremony, and gave us a certificate, ofwhich the following is an exact copy:--

"This may certify, that I joined together in holy matrimony FrederickJohnson** and Anna Murray, as man and wife, in the presence of Mr. DavidRuggles and Mrs. Michaels. 

"JAMES W. C. PENNINGTON

"NEW YORK, SEPT. 15, 1838"

 *She was free. 

 **I had changed my name from Frederick BAILEY to that of JOHNSON. 

Upon receiving this certificate, and a five-dollar bill from Mr. Ruggles, I shouldered one part of our baggage, and Anna took upthe other, and we set out forthwith to take passage on board of thesteamboat John W. Richmond for Newport, on our way to New Bedford. Mr. Ruggles gave me a letter to a Mr. Shaw in Newport, and told me, in casemy money did not serve me to New Bedford, to stop in Newport and obtainfurther assistance; but upon our arrival at Newport, we were so anxiousto get to a place of safety, that, notwithstanding we lacked thenecessary money to pay our fare, we decided to take seats in the stage, and promise to pay when we got to New Bedford. We were encouraged to dothis by two excellent gentlemen, residents of New Bedford, whose names Iafterward ascertained to be Joseph Ricketson and William C. Taber. Theyseemed at once to understand our circumstances, and gave us suchassurance of their friendliness as put us fully at ease in theirpresence. 

It was good indeed to meet with such friends, at such a time. Uponreaching New Bedford, we were directed to the house of Mr. NathanJohnson, by whom we were kindly received, and hospitably provided for. Both Mr. And Mrs. Johnson took a deep and lively interest in ourwelfare. They proved themselves quite worthy of the name ofabolitionists. When the stage-driver found us unable to pay our fare, heheld on upon our baggage as security for the debt. I had but to mentionthe fact to Mr. Johnson, and he forthwith advanced the money. 

We now began to feel a degree of safety, and to prepare ourselves forthe duties and responsibilities of a life of freedom. On the morningafter our arrival at New Bedford, while at the breakfast-table, thequestion arose as to what name I should be called by. The name given meby my mother was, "Frederick Augustus Washington Bailey. " I, however, had dispensed with the two middle names long before I left Maryland sothat I was generally known by the name of "Frederick Bailey. " I startedfrom Baltimore bearing the name of "Stanley. " When I got to New York, Iagain changed my name to "Frederick Johnson, " and thought that wouldbe the last change. But when I got to New Bedford, I found it necessaryagain to change my name. The reason of this necessity was, that therewere so many Johnsons in New Bedford, it was already quite difficult todistinguish between them. I gave Mr. Johnson the privilege ofchoosing me a name, but told him he must not take from me the name of"Frederick. " I must hold on to that, to preserve a sense of my identity. Mr. Johnson had just been reading the "Lady of the Lake, " and at oncesuggested that my name be "Douglass. " From that time until now I havebeen called "Frederick Douglass;" and as I am more widely known by thatname than by either of the others, I shall continue to use it as my own. 

I was quite disappointed at the general appearance of things in NewBedford. The impression which I had received respecting the characterand condition of the people of the north, I found to be singularlyerroneous. I had very strangely supposed, while in slavery, that few ofthe comforts, and scarcely any of the luxuries, of life were enjoyed atthe north, compared with what were enjoyed by the slaveholders of thesouth. I probably came to this conclusion from the fact that northernpeople owned no slaves. I supposed that they were about upon a levelwith the non-slaveholding population of the south. I knew _they_ wereexceedingly poor, and I had been accustomed to regard their poverty asthe necessary consequence of their being non-slaveholders. I had somehowimbibed the opinion that, in the absence of slaves, there could be nowealth, and very little refinement. And upon coming to the north, Iexpected to meet with a rough, hard-handed, and uncultivated population, living in the most Spartan-like simplicity, knowing nothing of the ease, luxury, pomp, and grandeur of southern slaveholders. Such being myconjectures, any one acquainted with the appearance of New Bedford mayvery readily infer how palpably I must have seen my mistake. 

In the afternoon of the day when I reached New Bedford, I visited thewharves, to take a view of the shipping. Here I found myself surroundedwith the strongest proofs of wealth. Lying at the wharves, and riding inthe stream, I saw many ships of the finest model, in the best order, andof the largest size. Upon the right and left, I was walled in by granitewarehouses of the widest dimensions, stowed to their utmost capacitywith the necessaries and comforts of life. Added to this, almost everybody seemed to be at work, but noiselessly so, compared with what I hadbeen accustomed to in Baltimore. There were no loud songs heard fromthose engaged in loading and unloading ships. I heard no deep oaths orhorrid curses on the laborer. I saw no whipping of men; but all seemedto go smoothly on. Every man appeared to understand his work, and wentat it with a sober, yet cheerful earnestness, which betokened the deepinterest which he felt in what he was doing, as well as a sense of hisown dignity as a man. To me this looked exceedingly strange. From thewharves I strolled around and over the town, gazing with wonderand admiration at the splendid churches, beautiful dwellings, andfinely-cultivated gardens; evincing an amount of wealth, comfort, taste, and refinement, such as I had never seen in any part of slaveholdingMaryland. 

Every thing looked clean, new, and beautiful. I saw few or nodilapidated houses, with poverty-stricken inmates; no half-nakedchildren and barefooted women, such as I had been accustomed to see inHillsborough, Easton, St. Michael's, and Baltimore. The people lookedmore able, stronger, healthier, and happier, than those of Maryland. I was for once made glad by a view of extreme wealth, without beingsaddened by seeing extreme poverty. But the most astonishing as wellas the most interesting thing to me was the condition of the coloredpeople, a great many of whom, like myself, had escaped thither as arefuge from the hunters of men. I found many, who had not been sevenyears out of their chains, living in finer houses, and evidentlyenjoying more of the comforts of life, than the average of slaveholdersin Maryland. I will venture to assert, that my friend Mr. Nathan Johnson(of whom I can say with a grateful heart, "I was hungry, and he gave memeat; I was thirsty, and he gave me drink; I was a stranger, and he tookme in") lived in a neater house; dined at a better table; took, paidfor, and read, more newspapers; better understood the moral, religious, and political character of the nation, --than nine tenths of theslaveholders in Talbot county Maryland. Yet Mr. Johnson was a workingman. His hands were hardened by toil, and not his alone, but those alsoof Mrs. Johnson. I found the colored people much more spirited thanI had supposed they would be. I found among them a determination toprotect each other from the blood-thirsty kidnapper, at all hazards. Soon after my arrival, I was told of a circumstance which illustratedtheir spirit. A colored man and a fugitive slave were on unfriendlyterms. The former was heard to threaten the latter with informing hismaster of his whereabouts. Straightway a meeting was called among thecolored people, under the stereotyped notice, "Business of importance!"The betrayer was invited to attend. The people came at the appointedhour, and organized the meeting by appointing a very religious oldgentleman as president, who, I believe, made a prayer, after which headdressed the meeting as follows: "_Friends, we have got him here, andI would recommend that you young men just take him outside the door, and kill him!_" With this, a number of them bolted at him; but they wereintercepted by some more timid than themselves, and the betrayer escapedtheir vengeance, and has not been seen in New Bedford since. I believethere have been no more such threats, and should there be hereafter, Idoubt not that death would be the consequence. 

I found employment, the third day after my arrival, in stowing a sloopwith a load of oil. It was new, dirty, and hard work for me; but I wentat it with a glad heart and a willing hand. I was now my own master. Itwas a happy moment, the rapture of which can be understood only by thosewho have been slaves. It was the first work, the reward of which was tobe entirely my own. There was no Master Hugh standing ready, the momentI earned the money, to rob me of it. I worked that day with a pleasure Ihad never before experienced. I was at work for myself and newly-marriedwife. It was to me the starting-point of a new existence. When I gotthrough with that job, I went in pursuit of a job of calking; but suchwas the strength of prejudice against color, among the white calkers, that they refused to work with me, and of course I could get noemployment. *

 * I am told that colored persons can now get employment at calking in New Bedford--a result of anti-slavery effort. 

Finding my trade of no immediate benefit, I threw off my calkinghabiliments, and prepared myself to do any kind of work I could get todo. Mr. Johnson kindly let me have his wood-horse and saw, and I verysoon found myself a plenty of work. There was no work too hard--none toodirty. I was ready to saw wood, shovel coal, carry wood, sweep thechimney, or roll oil casks, --all of which I did for nearly three yearsin New Bedford, before I became known to the anti-slavery world. 

In about four months after I went to New Bedford, there came a young manto me, and inquired if I did not wish to take the "Liberator. " I toldhim I did; but, just having made my escape from slavery, I remarked thatI was unable to pay for it then. I, however, finally became a subscriberto it. The paper came, and I read it from week to week with suchfeelings as it would be quite idle for me to attempt to describe. Thepaper became my meat and my drink. My soul was set all on fire. Itssympathy for my brethren in bonds--its scathing denunciations ofslaveholders--its faithful exposures of slavery--and its powerfulattacks upon the upholders of the institution--sent a thrill of joythrough my soul, such as I had never felt before!

I had not long been a reader of the "Liberator, " before I got a prettycorrect idea of the principles, measures and spirit of the anti-slaveryreform. I took right hold of the cause. I could do but little; but whatI could, I did with a joyful heart, and never felt happier than whenin an anti-slavery meeting. I seldom had much to say at the meetings, because what I wanted to say was said so much better by others. But, while attending an anti-slavery convention at Nantucket, on the 11th ofAugust, 1841, I felt strongly moved to speak, and was at the same timemuch urged to do so by Mr. William C. Coffin, a gentleman who had heardme speak in the colored people's meeting at New Bedford. It was a severecross, and I took it up reluctantly. The truth was, I felt myself aslave, and the idea of speaking to white people weighed me down. I spokebut a few moments, when I felt a degree of freedom, and said what Idesired with considerable ease. From that time until now, I have beenengaged in pleading the cause of my brethren--with what success, andwith what devotion, I leave those acquainted with my labors to decide. 

APPENDIX

I find, since reading over the foregoing Narrative, that I have, in several instances, spoken in such a tone and manner, respectingreligion, as may possibly lead those unacquainted with my religiousviews to suppose me an opponent of all religion. To remove the liabilityof such misapprehension, I deem it proper to append the following briefexplanation. What I have said respecting and against religion, I meanstrictly to apply to the _slaveholding religion_ of this land, andwith no possible reference to Christianity proper; for, between theChristianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognizethe widest possible difference--so wide, that to receive the one asgood, pure, and holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. To be the friend of the one, is of necessity tobe the enemy of the other. I love the pure, peaceable, and impartialChristianity of Christ: I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianityof this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity. I look upon it asthe climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossestof all libels. Never was there a clearer case of "stealing the livery ofthe court of heaven to serve the devil in. " I am filled with unutterableloathing when I contemplate the religious pomp and show, together withthe horrible inconsistencies, which every where surround me. Wehave men-stealers for ministers, women-whippers for missionaries, and cradle-plunderers for church members. The man who wields theblood-clotted cowskin during the week fills the pulpit on Sunday, andclaims to be a minister of the meek and lowly Jesus. The man who robsme of my earnings at the end of each week meets me as a class-leader onSunday morning, to show me the way of life, and the path of salvation. He who sells my sister, for purposes of prostitution, stands forth asthe pious advocate of purity. He who proclaims it a religious duty toread the Bible denies me the right of learning to read the name of theGod who made me. He who is the religious advocate of marriage robs wholemillions of its sacred influence, and leaves them to the ravages ofwholesale pollution. The warm defender of the sacredness of the familyrelation is the same that scatters whole families, --sundering husbandsand wives, parents and children, sisters and brothers, --leaving thehut vacant, and the hearth desolate. We see the thief preaching againsttheft, and the adulterer against adultery. We have men sold to buildchurches, women sold to support the gospel, and babes sold to purchaseBibles for the POOR HEATHEN! ALL FOR THE GLORY OF GOD AND THE GOOD OFSOULS! The slave auctioneer's bell and the church-going bell chime inwith each other, and the bitter cries of the heart-broken slave aredrowned in the religious shouts of his pious master. Revivals ofreligion and revivals in the slave-trade go hand in hand together. The slave prison and the church stand near each other. The clanking offetters and the rattling of chains in the prison, and the pious psalmand solemn prayer in the church, may be heard at the same time. Thedealers in the bodies and souls of men erect their stand in the presenceof the pulpit, and they mutually help each other. The dealer gives hisblood-stained gold to support the pulpit, and the pulpit, in return, covers his infernal business with the garb of Christianity. Here we havereligion and robbery the allies of each other--devils dressed in angels'robes, and hell presenting the semblance of paradise. 

 "Just God! and these are they, Who minister at thine altar, God of right! Men who their hands, with prayer and blessing, lay On Israel's ark of light. 

 "What! preach, and kidnap men? Give thanks, and rob thy own afflicted poor? Talk of thy glorious liberty, and then Bolt hard the captive's door?

 "What! servants of thy own Merciful Son, who came to seek and save The homeless and the outcast, fettering down The tasked and plundered slave!

 "Pilate and Herod friends! Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine! Just God and holy! is that church which lends Strength to the spoiler thine?"

The Christianity of America is a Christianity, of whose votaries it maybe as truly said, as it was of the ancient scribes and Pharisees, "Theybind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men'sshoulders, but they themselves will not move them with one of theirfingers. All their works they do for to be seen of men. --They love theuppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, . . . . . . And to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi. --But woe unto you, scribesand Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven againstmen; for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that areentering to go in. Ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretence makelong prayers; therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation. Yecompass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, yemake him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves. --Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of mint, and anise, and cumin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith; these ought ye to have done, and not to leave theother undone. Ye blind guides! which strain at a gnat, and swallow acamel. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye makeclean the outside of the cup and of the platter; but within, they arefull of extortion and excess. --Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appearbeautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of alluncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, butwithin ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. "

Dark and terrible as is this picture, I hold it to be strictly true ofthe overwhelming mass of professed Christians in America. They strainat a gnat, and swallow a camel. Could any thing be more true of ourchurches? They would be shocked at the proposition of fellowshippinga SHEEP-stealer; and at the same time they hug to their communion aMAN-stealer, and brand me with being an infidel, if I find fault withthem for it. They attend with Pharisaical strictness to the outwardforms of religion, and at the same time neglect the weightier matters ofthe law, judgment, mercy, and faith. They are always ready to sacrifice, but seldom to show mercy. They are they who are represented asprofessing to love God whom they have not seen, whilst they hate theirbrother whom they have seen. They love the heathen on the other side ofthe globe. They can pray for him, pay money to have the Bible put intohis hand, and missionaries to instruct him; while they despise andtotally neglect the heathen at their own doors. 

Such is, very briefly, my view of the religion of this land; and toavoid any misunderstanding, growing out of the use of general terms, Imean by the religion of this land, that which is revealed in the words, deeds, and actions, of those bodies, north and south, calling themselvesChristian churches, and yet in union with slaveholders. It is againstreligion, as presented by these bodies, that I have felt it my duty totestify. 

I conclude these remarks by copying the following portrait of thereligion of the south, (which is, by communion and fellowship, thereligion of the north, ) which I soberly affirm is "true to the life, "and without caricature or the slightest exaggeration. It is said tohave been drawn, several years before the present anti-slavery agitationbegan, by a northern Methodist preacher, who, while residing at thesouth, had an opportunity to see slaveholding morals, manners, andpiety, with his own eyes. "Shall I not visit for these things? saith theLord. Shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?"

A PARODY

 "Come, saints and sinners, hear me tell How pious priests whip Jack and Nell, And women buy and children sell, And preach all sinners down to hell, And sing of heavenly union. 

 "They'll bleat and baa, dona like goats, Gorge down black sheep, and strain at motes, Array their backs in fine black coats, Then seize their negroes by their throats, And choke, for heavenly union. 

 "They'll church you if you sip a dram, And damn you if you steal a lamb; Yet rob old Tony, Doll, and Sam, Of human rights, and bread and ham; Kidnapper's heavenly union. 

 "They'll loudly talk of Christ's reward, And bind his image with a cord, And scold, and swing the lash abhorred, And sell their brother in the Lord To handcuffed heavenly union. 

 "They'll read and sing a sacred song, And make a prayer both loud and long, And teach the right and do the wrong, Hailing the brother, sister throng, With words of heavenly union. 

 "We wonder how such saints can sing, Or praise the Lord upon the wing, Who roar, and scold, and whip, and sting, And to their slaves and mammon cling, In guilty conscience union. 

 "They'll raise tobacco, corn, and rye, And drive, and thieve, and cheat, and lie, And lay up treasures in the sky, By making switch and cowskin fly, In hope of heavenly union. 

 "They'll crack old Tony on the skull, And preach and roar like Bashan bull, Or braying ass, of mischief full, Then seize old Jacob by the wool, And pull for heavenly union. 

 "A roaring, ranting, sleek man-thief, Who lived on mutton, veal, and beef, Yet never would afford relief To needy, sable sons of grief, Was big with heavenly union. 

 "'Love not the world, ' the preacher said, And winked his eye, and shook his head; He seized on Tom, and Dick, and Ned, Cut short their meat, and clothes, and bread, Yet still loved heavenly union. 

 "Another preacher whining spoke Of One whose heart for sinners broke: He tied old Nanny to an oak, And drew the blood at every stroke, And prayed for heavenly union. 

 "Two others oped their iron jaws, And waved their children-stealing paws; There sat their children in gewgaws; By stinting negroes' backs and maws, They kept up heavenly union. 

 "All good from Jack another takes, And entertains their flirts and rakes, Who dress as sleek as glossy snakes, And cram their mouths with sweetened cakes; And this goes down for union. "

Sincerely and earnestly hoping that this little book may do somethingtoward throwing light on the American slave system, and hasteningthe glad day of deliverance to the millions of my brethren inbonds--faithfully relying upon the power of truth, love, and justice, for success in my humble efforts--and solemnly pledging my self anew tothe sacred cause, --I subscribe myself, FREDERICK DOUGLASS LYNN, _Mass. , April_ 28, 1845. 

THE END