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Narrative Of The Life Of Frederick Douglass.................................................................................................1

In the month of August, 1841, I attended an anti slavery convention in Nantucket, at which it was my

happiness to become acquainted with FREDERICK DOUGLASS, the writer of the following Narrative. He

was a stranger to nearly every member of that body; but, having recently made his escape from the south ern

prisonhouse of bondage, and feeling his curiosity excited to ascertain the principles and measures of the

abolitionists,of whom he had heard a somewhat vague description while he was a slave,he was in

duced to give his attendance, on the occasion al luded to, though at that time a resident in New Bedford.

Fortunate, most fortunate occurrence!fortunate for the millions of his manacled brethren, yet pant ing for

deliverance from their awful thraldom!for tunate for the cause of negro emancipation, and of universal

liberty!fortunate for the land of his birth, which he has already done so much to save and bless!

fortunate for a large circle of friends and acquaint ances, whose sympathy and affection he has strongly

secured by the many sufferings he has endured, by his virtuous traits of character, by his everabiding

remembrance of those who are in bonds, as being bound with them!fortunate for the multitudes, in various

parts of our republic, whose minds he has enlightened on the subject of slavery, and who have been melted to

tears by his pathos, or roused to virtuous indignation by his stirring eloquence against the enslavers of

men!fortunate for himself, as it at once brought him into the field of public use fulness, "gave the world

assurance of a MAN," quick ened the slumbering energies of his soul, and con secrated him to the great

I shall never forget his first speech at the conven tionthe extraordinary emotion it excited in my own

mindthe powerful impression it created upon a crowded auditory, completely taken by surprisethe

applause which followed from the beginning to the end of his felicitous remarks. I think I never hated slavery

so intensely as at that moment; certainly, my perception of the enormous outrage which is in flicted by it, on

the godlike nature of its victims, was rendered far more clear than ever. There stood one, in physical

proportion and stature commanding and exactin intellect richly endowedin natural elo quence a

prodigyin soul manifestly "created but a little lower than the angels"yet a slave, ay, a fugi tive

slave,trembling for his safety, hardly daring to believe that on the American soil, a single white person

could be found who would befriend him at all hazards, for the love of God and humanity! Ca pable of high

attainments as an intellectual and moral beingneeding nothing but a comparatively small amount of

cultivation to make him an orna ment to society and a blessing to his raceby the law of the land, by the

voice of the people, by the terms of the slave code, he was only a piece of property, a beast of burden, a

A beloved friend from New Bedford prevailed on Mr. DOUGLASS to address the convention: He came

forward to the platform with a hesitancy and embar rassment, necessarily the attendants of a sensitive mind

in such a novel position. After apologizing for his ignorance, and reminding the audience that slav ery was a

poor school for the human intellect and heart, he proceeded to narrate some of the facts in his own history as

a slave, and in the course of his speech gave utterance to many noble thoughts and thrilling reflections. As

soon as he had taken his seat, filled with hope and admiration, I rose, and declared that PATRICK HENRY,

of revolutionary fame, never made a speech more eloquent in the cause of liberty, than the one we had just

listened to from the lips of that hunted fugitive. So I believed at that timesuch is my belief now. I reminded

the audience of the peril which surrounded this self emancipated young man at the North,even in Mas

sachusetts, on the soil of the Pilgrim Fathers, among the descendants of revolutionary sires; and I ap pealed

to them, whether they would ever allow him to be carried back into slavery,law or no law, con stitution or

no constitution. The response was unani mous and in thundertones"NO!" "Will you succor and protect

him as a brothermana resident of the old Bay State?" "YES!" shouted the whole mass, with an energy so

startling, that the ruthless tyrants south of Mason and Dixon's line might almost have heard the mighty burst

of feeling, and recognized it as the pledge of an invincible determination, on the part of those who gave it,

never to betray him that wanders, but to hide the outcast, and firmly to abide the consequences.

It was at once deeply impressed upon my mind, that, if Mr. DOUGLASS could be persuaded to conse crate

his time and talents to the promotion of the antislavery enterprise, a powerful impetus would be given to it,

and a stunning blow at the same time inflicted on northern prejudice against a colored complexion. I therefore

endeavored to instil hope and courage into his mind, in order that he might dare to engage in a vocation so

anomalous and re sponsible for a person in his situation; and I was seconded in this effort by warmhearted

friends, es pecially by the late General Agent of the Massa chusetts AntiSlavery Society, Mr. JOHN A.

COLLINS, whose judgment in this instance entirely coincided with my own. At first, he could give no

encourage ment; with unfeigned diffidence, he expressed his conviction that he was not adequate to the

perform ance of so great a task; the path marked out was wholly an untrodden one; he was sincerely appre

hensive that he should do more harm than good. After much deliberation, however, he consented to make a

trial; and ever since that period, he has acted as a lecturing agent, under the auspices either of the American

or the Massachusetts AntiSlavery Society. In labors he has been most abundant; and his success in

combating prejudice, in gaining proselytes, in agi tating the public mind, has far surpassed the most

sanguine expectations that were raised at the com mencement of his brilliant career. He has borne him self

with gentleness and meekness, yet with true manliness of character. As a public speaker, he excels in pathos,

wit, comparison, imitation, strength of reasoning, and fluency of language. There is in him that union of head

and heart, which is indispensable to an enlightenment of the heads and a winning of the hearts of others. May

his strength continue to be equal to his day! May he continue to "grow in grace, and in the knowledge of

God," that he may be increasingly serviceable in the cause of bleeding humanity, whether at home or abroad!

It is certainly a very remarkable fact, that one of the most efficient advocates of the slave population, now

before the public, is a fugitive slave, in the person of FREDERICK DOUGLASS; and that the free colored

population of the United States are as ably represented by one of their own number, in the per son of

CHARLES LENOX REMOND, whose eloquent appeals have extorted the highest applause of multi tudes

on both sides of the Atlantic. Let the calum niators of the colored race despise themselves for their baseness

and illiberality of spirit, and hence forth cease to talk of the natural inferiority of those who require nothing

It may, perhaps, be fairly questioned, whether any other portion of the population of the earth could have

endured the privations, sufferings and horrors of slavery, without having become more degraded in the scale

of humanity than the slaves of African descent. Nothing has been left undone to cripple their intellects,

darken their minds, debase their moral nature, obliterate all traces of their relation ship to mankind; and yet

how wonderfully they have sustained the mighty load of a most frightful bond age, under which they have

been groaning for cen turies! To illustrate the effect of slavery on the white man,to show that he has no

powers of endurance, in such a condition, superior to those of his black brother,DANIEL O'CONNELL,

the distinguished advocate of universal emancipation, and the mighti est champion of prostrate but not

conquered Ireland, relates the following anecdote in a speech delivered by him in the Conciliation Hall,

Dublin, before the Loyal National Repeal Association, March 31, 1845. "No matter," said Mr. O'CONNELL,

"under what specious term it may disguise itself, slavery is still hideous. ~It has a natural, an inevitable

tendency to brutalize every noble faculty of man.~ An American sailor, who was cast away on the shore of

Africa, where he was kept in slavery for three years, was, at the expiration of that period, found to be

imbruted and stultifiedhe had lost all reasoning power; and having forgotten his native language, could

only ut ter some savage gibberish between Arabic and Eng lish, which nobody could understand, and

which even he himself found difficulty in pronouncing. So much for the humanizing influence of THE

DOMESTIC INSTITUTION!" Admitting this to have been an ex traordinary case of mental deterioration, it

proves at least that the white slave can sink as low in the scale of humanity as the black one.

Mr. DOUGLASS has very properly chosen to write his own Narrative, in his own style, and according to the

best of his ability, rather than to employ some one else. It is, therefore, entirely his own produc tion; and,

considering how long and dark was the ca reer he had to run as a slave,how few have been his

opportunities to improve his mind since he broke his iron fetters,it is, in my judgment, highly creditable to

his head and heart. He who can peruse it without a tearful eye, a heaving breast, an afflicted spirit, without

being filled with an unutterable abhorrence of slavery and all its abettors, and animated with a determination

to seek the immediate overthrow of that execrable system,without trembling for the fate of this country in

the hands of a righteous God, who is ever on the side of the oppressed, and whose arm is not shortened that it

cannot save,must have a flinty heart, and be qualified to act the part of a trafficker "in slaves and the souls

of men." I am con fident that it is essentially true in all its statements; that nothing has been set down in

malice, nothing exaggerated, nothing drawn from the imagination; that it comes short of the reality, rather

than over states a single fact in regard to SLAVERY AS IT IS. The experience 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 a very fair specimen of the treatment of slaves in Maryland, in which State it is conceded that

they are better fed and less cruelly treated than in Georgia, Alabama, or Louisiana. Many have suffered

incomparably more, while very few on the plantations have suf fered less, than himself. Yet how deplorable

was his situation! what terrible chastisements were inflicted upon his person! what still more shocking

outrages were perpetrated upon his mind! with all his noble powers and sublime aspirations, how like a brute

was he treated, even by those professing to have the same mind in them that was in Christ Jesus! to what

dreadful liabilities was he continually subjected! how destitute of friendly counsel and aid, even in his

greatest extremities! how heavy was the midnight of woe which shrouded in blackness the last ray of hope,

and filled the future with terror and gloom! what longings after freedom took possession of his breast, and

how his misery augmented, in proportion as he grew reflective and intelligent,thus demonstrating that a

happy slave is an extinct man! how he thought, reasoned, felt, under the lash of the driver, with the chains

upon his limbs! what perils he en countered in his endeavors to escape from his hor rible doom! and how

signal have been his deliverance and preservation in the midst of a nation of pitiless enemies!

This Narrative contains many affecting incidents, many passages of great eloquence and power; but I think

the most thrilling one of them all is the de scription DOUGLASS gives of his feelings, as he stood

soliloquizing respecting his fate, and the chances of his one day being a freeman, on the banks of the

Chesapeake Bayviewing the receding vessels as they flew with their white wings before the breeze, and

apostrophizing them as animated by the living spirit of freedom. Who can read that passage, and be in

sensible to its pathos and sublimity? Compressed into it is a whole Alexandrian library of thought, feeling,

and sentimentall that can, all that need be urged, in the form of expostulation, entreaty, rebuke, against that

crime of crimes,making man the prop erty of his fellowman! O, how accursed is that system, which

entombs the godlike mind of man, defaces the divine image, reduces those who by crea tion were crowned

with glory and honor to a level with fourfooted beasts, and exalts the dealer in hu man flesh above all that

is called God! Why should its existence be prolonged one hour? Is it not evil, only evil, and that continually?

What does its pres ence imply but the absence of all fear of God, all regard for man, on the part of the

So profoundly ignorant of the nature of slavery are many persons, that they are stubbornly incredu lous

whenever they read or listen to any recital of the cruelties which are daily inflicted on its victims. They do not

deny that the slaves are held as prop erty; but that terrible fact seems to convey to their minds no idea of

injustice, exposure to outrage, or savage barbarity. Tell them of cruel scourgings, of mutilations and

brandings, of scenes of pollution and blood, of the banishment of all light and knowl edge, and they affect to

be greatly indignant at such enormous exaggerations, such wholesale misstate ments, such abominable

libels on the character of the southern planters! As if all these direful outrages were not the natural results of

slavery! As if it were less cruel to reduce a human being to the condition of a thing, than to give him a severe

flagellation, or to deprive him of necessary food and clothing! As if whips, chains, thumbscrews, paddles,

blood hounds, overseers, drivers, patrols, were not all in dispensable to keep the slaves down, and to give

protection to their ruthless oppressors! As if, when the marriage institution is abolished, concubinage,

adultery, and incest, must not necessarily abound; when all the rights of humanity are annihilated, any barrier

remains to protect the victim from the fury of the spoiler; when absolute power is assumed over life and

liberty, it will not be wielded with destruc tive sway! Skeptics of this character abound in so ciety. In some

few instances, their incredulity arises from a want of reflection; but, generally, it indicates a hatred of the

light, a desire to shield slavery from the assaults of its foes, a contempt of the colored race, whether bond or

free. Such will try to discredit the shocking tales of slaveholding cruelty which are recorded in this truthful

Narrative; but they will labor in vain. Mr. DOUGLASS has frankly disclosed the place of his birth, the names

of those who claimed ownership in his body and soul, and the names also of those who committed the crimes

which he has alleged against them. His statements, there fore, may easily be disproved, if they are untrue.

In the course of his Narrative, he relates two in stances of murderous cruelty,in one of which a planter

deliberately shot a slave belonging to a neigh boring plantation, who had unintentionally gotten within his

lordly domain in quest of fish; and in the other, an overseer blew out the brains of a slave who had fled to a

stream of water to escape a bloody scourging. Mr. DOUGLASS states that in neither of these instances was

any thing done by way of legal arrest or judicial investigation. The Baltimore Amer ican, of March 17,

1845, relates a similar case of atrocity, perpetrated with similar impunityas fol lows:"~Shooting a

slave.~We learn, upon the au thority of a letter from Charles county, Maryland, received by a gentleman

of this city, that a young man, named Matthews, a nephew of General Mat thews, and whose father, it is

believed, holds an of fice at Washington, killed one of the slaves upon his father's farm by shooting him.

The letter states that young Matthews had been left in charge of the farm; that he gave an order to the servant,

which was dis obeyed, when he proceeded to the house, ~obtained a gun, and, returning, shot the servant.~

He immedi ately, the letter continues, fled to his father's resi dence, where he still remains

unmolested."Let it never be forgotten, that no slaveholder or overseer can 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 as incompetent to testify against a white

man, as though they were indeed a part of the brute creation. Hence, there is no legal protection in fact,

whatever there may be in form, for the slave population; and any amount of cruelty may be inflicted on them

with impunity. Is it possible for the human mind to conceive of a more horrible state of society?

The effect of a religious profession on the conduct of southern masters is vividly described in the fol lowing

Narrative, and shown to be any thing but salutary. In the nature of the case, it must be in the highest degree

pernicious. The testimony of Mr. DOUGLASS, on this point, is sustained by a cloud of witnesses, whose

veracity is unimpeachable. "A slave holder's profession of Christianity is a palpable im posture. He is a

felon of the highest grade. He is a manstealer. It is of no importance what you put in the other scale."

Reader! are you with the manstealers in sympathy and purpose, or on the side of their downtrodden

victims? If with the former, then are you the foe of God and man. If with the latter, what are you pre pared

to do and dare in their behalf? Be faithful, be vigilant, be untiring in your efforts to break every yoke, and let

the oppressed go free. Come what may cost what it mayinscribe on the banner which you unfurl to the

breeze, as your religious and po litical motto"NO COMPROMISE WITH SLAVERY! NO UNION

You remember the old fable of "The Man and the Lion," where the lion complained that he should not be so

I am glad the time has come when the "lions write history." We have been left long enough to gather the

character of slavery from the involuntary evidence of the masters. One might, indeed, rest sufficiently

satisfied with what, it is evident, must be, in general, the results of such a relation, with out seeking farther

to find whether they have fol lowed in every instance. Indeed, those who stare at the halfpeck 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 remember that, in 1838, many were waiting for the results of the West India

experiment, before they could come into our ranks. Those "results" have come long ago; but, alas! few of that

number have come with them, as converts. A man must be dis posed to judge of emancipation by other tests

than whether it has increased the produce of sugar,and to hate slavery for other reasons than because it

starves men and whips women,before he is ready to lay the first stone of his antislavery life.

I was glad to learn, in your story, how early the most neglected of God's children waken to a sense of their

rights, and of the injustice done them. Ex perience is a keen teacher; and long before you had mastered your

A B C, or knew where the "white sails" of the Chesapeake were 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 cruel and

In connection with this, there is one circumstance which makes your recollections peculiarly valuable, and

renders your early insight the more remarkable. You come from that part of the country where we are told

slavery appears with its fairest features. Let us hear, then, what it is at its best estategaze on its bright side,

if it has one; and then imagination may task her powers to add dark lines to the picture, as she travels

southward to that (for the colored man) Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the Mississippi sweeps along.

Again, we have known you long, and can put the most entire confidence in your truth, candor, and sincerity.

Every one who has heard you speak has 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. No onesided portrait, no wholesale

complaints,but strict justice done, whenever individual kindliness has neutralized, for a moment, the

deadly system with which it was strangely allied. You have been with us, too, some years, and can fairly

compare the twilight of rights, which your race enjoy at the North, with that "noon of night" under which they

labor south of Mason and Dixon's line. Tell us whether, after all, the half free colored man of Massachusetts

In reading your life, no one can say that we have unfairly picked out some rare specimens of cruelty. We

know that the bitter drops, which even you have drained from the cup, are no incidental aggravations, no

individual ills, but such as must mingle always and necessarily in the lot of every slave. They are the essential

After all, I shall read your book with trembling for you. Some years ago, when you were beginning to tell me

your real name and birthplace, you may remember I stopped you, and preferred to remain ignorant of all.

With the exception of a vague de scription, so I continued, till the other 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 that it

was still dangerous, in Massachusetts, for honest men to tell their names! They say the fathers, in 1776,

signed the Declaration of Independence with the halter about their necks. You, too, publish your declaration

of freedom with danger compassing you around. In all the broad lands which the Constitution of the United

States over shadows, there is no single spot,however narrow or desolate,where a fugitive slave can

plant himself and say, "I am safe." The whole armory of North ern Law has no shield for you. I am free to

You, perhaps, may tell your story in safety, en deared as you are to so many warm hearts by rare gifts, and a

still rarer devotion of them to the service of others. But it will be owing only to your labors, and the fearless

efforts of those who, trampling the laws and Constitution of the country under their feet, are determined that

they will "hide the out cast," and that their hearths shall be, spite of the law, an asylum for the oppressed, if,

some time or other, the humblest may stand in our streets, and bear witness in safety against the cruelties of

Yet it is sad to think, that these very throbbing hearts which welcome your story, and form your best

safeguard in telling it, are all beating contrary to the "statute in such case made and provided." Go on, my

dear friend, till you, and those who, like you, have been saved, so as by fire, from the dark prison house,

shall stereotype these free, illegal pulses into statutes; and New England, cutting loose from a bloodstained

Union, shall glory in being the house of refuge for the oppressed,till we no longer merely "~hide~ the

outcast," or make a merit of standing idly by while he is hunted in our midst; but, consecrat ing anew the

soil of the Pilgrims as an asylum for the oppressed, proclaim our WELCOME to the slave so loudly, that the

tones shall reach every hut in the Carolinas, and make the brokenhearted bondman leap up at the thought of

Frederick Douglass was born in slavery as Fred erick Augustus Washington Bailey near Easton in Talbot

County, Maryland. He was not sure of the exact year of his birth, but he knew that it was 1817 or 1818. As a

young boy he was sent to Baltimore, to be a house servant, where he learned to read and write, with the

assistance of his master's wife. In 1838 he escaped from slavery and went to New York City, where he

married Anna Murray, a free colored woman whom he had met in Baltimore. Soon there after he changed

his name to Frederick Douglass. In 1841 he addressed a convention of the Massa chusetts AntiSlavery

Society in Nantucket and so greatly impressed the group that they immediately employed him as an agent. He

was such an impres sive orator that numerous persons doubted if he had ever been a slave, so he wrote

NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS. During the Civil War he as sisted in the

recruiting of colored men for the 54th and 55th Massachusetts Regiments and consistently argued for the

emancipation of slaves. After the war he was active in securing and protecting the rights of the freemen. In

his later years, at different times, he was secretary of the Santo Domingo Commission, marshall and recorder

of deeds of the District of Columbia, and United States Minister to Haiti. His other autobiographical works

I was born in Tuckahoe, near Hillsborough, and about twelve miles from Easton, in Talbot county, Maryland.

I have no accurate knowledge of my age, never having seen any authentic record containing it. By far the

larger part of the slaves know as little of their ages as horses know of theirs, and it is the wish of most masters

within my knowledge to keep their slaves thus ignorant. I do not remember to have ever met a slave who

could tell of his birthday. They seldom come nearer to it than plantingtime, harvest time, cherrytime,

springtime, or falltime. A want of information concerning my own was a source of unhappiness to me

even during childhood. The white children could tell their ages. I could not tell why I ought to be deprived of

the same privilege. I was not allowed to make any inquiries of my master con cerning it. He deemed all such

inquiries on the part of a slave improper and impertinent, and evidence of a restless spirit. The nearest

estimate I can give makes me now between twentyseven and twenty eight years of age. I come to this,

from hearing my master say, some time during 1835, I was about seventeen years old.

My mother was named Harriet Bailey. She was the daughter of Isaac and Betsey Bailey, both col ored, and

quite dark. My mother was of a darker complexion than either my grandmother or grand father.

My father was a white man. He was admitted to be such by all I ever heard speak of my parentage. The

opinion was also whispered that my master was my father; but of the correctness of this opinion, I know

nothing; the means of knowing was withheld from me. My mother and I were separated when I was but an

infantbefore I knew her as my mother. It is a common custom, in the part of Maryland from which I ran

away, to part children from their mothers at a very early age. Frequently, before the child has reached its

twelfth month, its mother is taken from it, and hired out on some farm a con siderable distance off, and the

child is placed under the care of an old woman, too old for field labor. For what this separation is done, I do

not know, unless it be to hinder the development of the child's affection toward its mother, and to blunt and

destroy the natural affection of the mother for the child. This is the inevitable result.

I never saw my mother, to know her as such, more than four or five times in my life; and each of these times

was very short in duration, and at night. She was hired by a Mr. Stewart, who lived about twelve miles from

my home. She made her journeys to see me in the night, travelling the whole distance on foot, after the

performance of her day's work. She was a field hand, and a whipping is the penalty of not being in the field at

sunrise, unless a slave has special permission from his or her master to the con trarya permission which

they seldom get, and one that gives to him that gives it the proud name of being a kind master. I do not

recollect of ever seeing my mother by the light of day. She was with me in the night. She would lie down

with me, and get me to sleep, but long before I waked she was gone. Very little communication ever took

place between us. Death soon ended what little we could have while she lived, and with it her hardships and

suffering. She died when I was about seven years old, on one of my master's farms, near Lee's Mill. I was not

al lowed to be present during her illness, at her death, or burial. She was gone long before I knew any thing

about it. Never having enjoyed, to any considerable extent, her soothing presence, her tender and watch ful

care, I received the tidings of her death with much the same emotions I should have probably felt at the death

Called thus suddenly away, she left me without the slightest intimation of who my father was. The whisper

that my master was my father, may or may not be true; and, true or false, it is of but little con sequence to

my purpose whilst the fact remains, in all its glaring odiousness, that slaveholders have ordained, and by law

established, that the children of slave women shall in all cases follow the condi tion of their mothers; and

this is done too obviously to administer to their own lusts, and make a grati fication of their wicked desires

profitable as well as pleasurable; for by this cunning arrangement, the slaveholder, in cases not a few,

I know of such cases; and it is worthy of remark that such slaves invariably suffer greater hardships, and have

more to contend with, than others. They are, in the first place, a constant offence to their mistress. She is ever

disposed to find fault with them; they can seldom do any thing to please her; she is never better pleased than

when she sees them under the lash, especially when she suspects her husband of showing to his mulatto

children favors which he withholds from his black slaves. The master is fre quently compelled to sell this

class of his slaves, out of deference to the feelings of his white wife; and, cruel as the deed may strike any

one to be, for a man to sell his own children to human fleshmongers, it is often the dictate of humanity for

him to do 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 few shades darker com plexion than himself, and ply the gory lash to his

naked back; and if he lisp one word of disapproval, it is set down to his parental partiality, and only makes a

bad matter worse, both for himself and the slave whom he would protect and defend.

Every year brings with it multitudes of this class of slaves. It was doubtless in consequence of a knowl edge

of this fact, that one great statesman of the south predicted the downfall of slavery by the in evitable laws of

population. Whether this prophecy is ever fulfilled or not, it is nevertheless plain that a very

differentlooking class of people are springing up at the south, and are now held in slavery, from those

originally brought to this country from Africa; and if their increase do no other good, it will do away the force

of the argument, that God cursed Ham, and therefore American slavery is right. If the lineal descendants of

Ham are alone to be scriptur ally enslaved, it is certain that slavery at the south must soon become

unscriptural; for thousands are ushered into the world, annually, who, like myself, owe their existence to

I have had two masters. My first master's name was Anthony. I do not remember his first name. He was

generally called Captain Anthonya title which, I presume, he acquired by sailing a craft on the Chesapeake

Bay. He was not considered a rich slaveholder. He owned two or three farms, and about thirty slaves. His

farms and slaves were under the care of an overseer. The overseer's name was Plummer. Mr. Plummer was a

miserable drunkard, a profane swearer, and a savage monster. He always went armed with a cowskin and a

heavy cudgel. I have known him to cut and slash the women's heads so horribly, that even master would be

enraged at his cruelty, and would threaten to whip him if he did not mind himself. Master, however, was not a

humane slaveholder. It required extraordinary bar barity on the part of an overseer to affect him. He was a

cruel man, hardened by a long life of slave holding. He would at times seem to take great pleas ure in

whipping a slave. I have often been awakened at the dawn of day by the most heartrending shrieks of an

own aunt of mine, whom he used to tie up to a joist, and whip upon her naked back till she was literally

covered with blood. No words, no tears, no prayers, from his gory victim, seemed to move his iron heart from

its bloody purpose. The louder she screamed, the harder he whipped; and where the blood ran fastest, there he

whipped longest. He would whip her to make her scream, and whip her to make her hush; and not until

overcome by fatigue, would he cease to swing the bloodclotted cowskin. I remember the first time I ever

witnessed this hor rible exhibition. I was quite a child, but I well re member it. I never shall forget it whilst

I remember any thing. It was the first of a long series of such out rages, of which I was doomed to be a

witness and a participant. It struck me with awful force. It was the bloodstained gate, the entrance to the hell

of slavery, through which I was about to pass. It was a most terrible spectacle. I wish I could commit to paper

This occurrence took place very soon after I went to live with my old master, and under the following

circumstances. Aunt Hester went out one night, where or for what I do not know,and happened to be

absent when my master desired her presence. He had ordered her not to go out evenings, and warned her that

she must never let him catch her in com pany with a young man, who was paying attention to her belonging

to Colonel Lloyd. The young man's name was Ned Roberts, generally called Lloyd's Ned. Why master was so

careful of her, may be safely left to conjecture. 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

Aunt Hester had not only disobeyed his orders in going out, but had been found in company with Lloyd's

Ned; which circumstance, I found, from what he said while whipping her, was the chief of fence. Had he

been a man of pure morals himself, he might have been thought interested in protecting the innocence of my

aunt; but those who knew him will not suspect him of any such virtue. Before he commenced whipping Aunt

Hester, he took her into the kitchen, and stripped her from neck to waist, leaving her neck, shoulders, and

back, entirely naked. He then told her to cross her hands, calling her at the same time a dd bh. After

crossing her hands, he tied them with a strong rope, and led her to a stool under a large hook in the joist, put

in for the purpose. 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 up at their full length, so that she stood upon the ends of her toes.

He then said to her, "Now, you dd bh, I'll learn you how to disobey my orders!" and after rolling up

his sleeves, he com menced to lay on the heavy cowskin, and soon the warm, red blood (amid heartrending

shrieks from her, and horrid oaths from him) came dripping to the floor. I was so terrified and horrorstricken

at the sight, that I hid myself in a closet, and dared not venture out till long after the bloody transaction was

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 my grandmother on the outskirts of the plantation, where she was put to raise the children

of the younger women. I had there fore been, until now, out of the way of the bloody scenes that often

My master's family consisted of two sons, Andrew and Richard; one daughter, Lucretia, and her hus band,

Captain Thomas Auld. They lived in one house, upon the home plantation of Colonel Edward Lloyd. My

master was Colonel Lloyd's clerk and superintendent. He was what might be called the overseer of the

overseers. I spent two years of child hood on this plantation in my old master's family. It was here that I

witnessed the bloody transaction recorded in the first chapter; and as I received my first impressions of

slavery on this plantation, I will give some description of it, and of slavery as it there existed. The plantation

is about twelve miles north of Easton, in Talbot county, and is situated on the border of Miles River. The

principal products raised upon it were tobacco, corn, and wheat. These were raised in great abundance; so

that, with the products of this and the other farms belonging to him, he was able to keep in almost constant

em ployment a large sloop, in carrying them to market at Baltimore. This sloop was named Sally Lloyd, in

honor of one of the colonel's daughters. My mas ter's soninlaw, Captain Auld, was master of the vessel;

she was otherwise manned by the colonel's own slaves. Their names were Peter, Isaac, Rich, and Jake. These

were esteemed very highly by the other slaves, and looked upon as the privileged ones of the plantation; for it

Colonel Lloyd kept from three to four hundred slaves on his home plantation, and owned a large number

more on the neighboring farms belonging to him. The names of the farms nearest to the home plantation were

Wye Town and New Design. "Wye Town" was under the overseership of a man named Noah Willis. New

Design was under the overseer ship of a Mr. Townsend. The overseers of these, and all the rest of the farms,

numbering over twenty, received advice and direction from the managers of the home plantation. This was

the great business place. It was the seat of government for the whole twenty farms. All disputes among the

overseers were settled here. If a slave was convicted of any high misdemeanor, became unmanageable, or

evinced a determination to run away, he was brought immedi ately here, severely whipped, put on board the

sloop, carried to Baltimore, and sold to Austin Woolfolk, or some other slavetrader, as a warning to the

Here, too, the slaves of all the other farms received their monthly allowance of food, and their yearly

clothing. The men and women slaves received, as their monthly allowance of food, eight pounds of pork, or

its equivalent in fish, and one bushel of corn meal. Their yearly clothing consisted of two coarse linen shirts,

one pair of linen trousers, like the shirts, one jacket, one pair of trousers for winter, made of coarse negro

cloth, one pair of stockings, and one pair of shoes; the whole of which could not have cost more than seven

dollars. The allowance of the slave children was given to their mothers, or the old women having the care of

them. The chil dren unable to work in the field had neither shoes, stockings, jackets, nor trousers, given to

them; their clothing consisted of two coarse linen shirts per year. When these failed them, they went naked

until the next allowanceday. Children from seven to ten years old, of both sexes, almost naked, might be

There were no beds given the slaves, unless one coarse blanket be considered such, and none but the men and

women had these. This, however, is not considered a very great privation. They find less difficulty 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 having their wash ing, mending, and cooking to do, and having few or none of the ordinary facilities

for doing either of these, very many of their sleeping hours are con sumed in preparing for the field the

coming day; and when this is done, old and young, male and female, married and single, drop down side by

side, on one common bed,the cold, damp floor,each covering himself or herself with their miserable

blankets; and here they sleep till they are summoned to the field by the driver's horn. 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 woe

betides them who hear not this morning summons to the field; for if they are not awakened by the sense of

hearing, they are by the sense of feeling: no age nor sex finds any favor. Mr. Severe, the overseer, used to

stand by the door of the quarter, armed with a large hickory stick and heavy cowskin, ready to whip any one

who was so unfortunate as not to hear, or, from any other cause, was prevented from being ready to start for

Mr. Severe was rightly named: he was a cruel man. I have seen him whip a woman, 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's release.

He seemed to take pleasure in manifesting his fiendish barbarity. Added to his cruelty, he was a profane

swearer. It was enough to chill the blood and stiffen the hair of an ordinary man to hear him talk. Scarce a

sentence escaped him but that was commenced or concluded by some hor rid oath. The field was the place

to witness his cruelty and profanity. His presence made it both the field of blood and of blasphemy. From the

rising till the going down of the sun, he was cursing, raving, cutting, and slashing among the slaves of the

field, in the most frightful manner. His career was short. He died very soon after I went to Colonel Lloyd's;

and he died as he lived, uttering, with his dying groans, bitter curses and horrid oaths. His death was regarded

Mr. Severe's place was filled by a Mr. Hopkins. He was a very different man. He was less cruel, less profane,

and made less noise, than Mr. Severe. His course was characterized by no extraordinary demon strations of

cruelty. He whipped, but seemed to take no pleasure in it. He was called by the slaves a good overseer.

The home plantation of Colonel Lloyd wore the appearance of a country village. All the mechanical

operations for all the farms were performed here. The shoemaking and mending, the blacksmithing,

cartwrighting, coopering, weaving, and graingrind ing, were all performed by the slaves on the home

plantation. The whole place wore a businesslike as pect very unlike the neighboring farms. The num ber

of houses, too, conspired to give it advantage over the neighboring farms. It was called by the slaves the

~Great House Farm.~ Few privileges were esteemed higher, by the slaves of the outfarms, than that of being

selected to do errands at the Great House Farm. It was associated in their minds with greatness. A

representative could not be prouder of his election to a seat in the American Congress, than a slave on one of

the outfarms would be of his election to do errands at the Great House Farm. They regarded it as evidence

of great confidence re posed in them by their overseers; and it was on this account, as well as a constant

desire to be out of the field from under the driver's lash, that they es teemed it a high privilege, one worth

careful living for. He was called the smartest and most trusty fel low, who had this honor conferred upon

him the most frequently. The competitors for this office sought as diligently to please their overseers, as the

officeseekers in the political parties seek to please and deceive the people. The same traits of character

might be seen in Colonel Lloyd's slaves, as are seen in the slaves of the political parties.

The slaves selected to go to the Great House Farm, for the monthly allowance for themselves and their

fellowslaves, were peculiarly enthusiastic. While on their way, they would make the dense old woods, for

miles around, reverberate with their wild songs, revealing at once the highest joy and the deepest sadness.

They would compose and sing as they went along, consulting neither time nor tune. The thought that came

up, came outif not in the word, in the sound;and as frequently in the one as in the other. They would

sometimes sing the most pathetic senti ment in the most rapturous tone, and the most rap turous sentiment

in the most pathetic tone. Into all of their songs they would manage to weave some thing of the Great House

Farm. Especially would they do this, when leaving home. They would then sing most exultingly the

O, yea! O, yea! O!" This they would sing, as a chorus, to words which to many would seem unmeaning

jargon, but which, nevertheless, were full of meaning to themselves. I have sometimes thought that the mere

hearing of those songs would do more to impress some minds with the horrible character of slavery, than the

I did not, when a slave, understand the deep meaning of those rude and apparently incoherent songs. I was

myself within the circle; so that I nei ther saw nor heard as those without might see and hear. They told a

tale of woe which was then al together beyond my feeble comprehension; they were tones loud, long, and

deep; they breathed the prayer and complaint of souls boiling over with the bitterest anguish. Every tone was

a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverance from chains. The hearing of those wild notes

always de pressed my spirit, and filled me with ineffable sad ness. I have frequently found myself in tears

while hearing them. The mere recurrence to those songs, even now, afflicts me; and while I am writing these

lines, an expression of feeling has already found its way down my cheek. To those songs I trace my first

glimmering conception of the dehumanizing char acter of slavery. I can never get rid of that concep tion.

Those songs still follow me, to deepen my hatred of slavery, and quicken my sympathies for my brethren in

bonds. If any one wishes to be im pressed with the soulkilling effects of slavery, let him go to Colonel

Lloyd's plantation, and, on allow anceday, place himself in the deep pine woods, and there let him, in

silence, analyze the sounds that shall pass through the chambers of his soul,and if he is not thus impressed,

I have often been utterly astonished, since I came to the north, to find persons who could speak of the singing,

among slaves, as evidence of their con tentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater

mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his

heart; and he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears. At least, such is my

experience. I have often sung to drown my sorrow, but seldom to express my happiness. Crying for joy, and

singing for joy, were alike un common to me while in the jaws of slavery. The singing of a man cast away

upon a desolate island might be as appropriately considered as evidence of contentment and happiness, as the

singing of a slave; the songs of the one and of the other are prompted by the same emotion.

Colonel Lloyd kept a large and finely cultivated garden, which afforded almost constant employment for four

men, besides the chief gardener, (Mr. M'Durmond.) This garden was probably the great est attraction of the

place. During the summer months, people came from far and nearfrom Baltimore, Easton, and

Annapolisto see it. It abounded in fruits of almost every description, from the hardy apple of the north to

the delicate orange of the south. This garden was not the least source of trouble on the plantation. Its excellent

fruit was quite a temptation to the hungry swarms of boys, as well as the older slaves, belonging to the

colonel, few of whom had the virtue or the vice to resist it. Scarcely a day passed, during the summer, but that

some slave had to take the lash for stealing fruit. The colonel had to resort to all kinds of stratagems to keep

his slaves out of the garden. The last and most successful one was that of tarring his fence all around; after

which, if a slave was caught with any tar upon his person, it was deemed sufficient proof that he had either

been into the garden, or had tried to get in. In either case, he was severely whip ped by the chief gardener.

This plan worked well; the slaves became as fearful of tar as of the lash. They seemed to realize the

The colonel also kept a splendid riding equipage. His stable and carriagehouse presented the appear ance

of some of our large city livery establishments. His horses were of the finest form and noblest blood. His

carriagehouse contained three splendid coaches, three or four gigs, besides dearborns and barouches of the

This establishment was under the care of two slavesold Barney and young Barneyfather and son. To

attend to this establishment was their sole work. But it was by no means an easy employment; for in nothing

was Colonel Lloyd more particular than in the management of his horses. The slightest inat tention to these

was unpardonable, and was visited upon those, under whose care they were placed, with the severest

punishment; no excuse could shield them, if the colonel only suspected any want of attention to his horsesa

supposition which he fre quently indulged, and one which, of course, made the office of old and young

Barney a very trying one. They never knew when they were safe from punish ment. They were frequently

whipped when least deserving, and escaped whipping when most deserv ing it. Every thing depended upon

the looks of the horses, and the state of Colonel Lloyd's own mind when his horses were brought to him for

use. If a horse did not move fast enough, or hold his head high enough, it was owing to some fault of his

keep ers. It was painful to stand near the stabledoor, and hear the various complaints against the keepers

when a horse was taken out for use. "This horse has not had proper attention. He has not been suffi ciently

rubbed and curried, or he has not been prop erly fed; his food was too wet or too dry; he got it too 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 enough of hay; instead of old Barney's attending to the horse, he had very improperly left it to his

son." To all these com plaints, no matter how unjust, the slave must an swer never a word. Colonel Lloyd

could not brook any contradiction from a slave. When he spoke, a slave must stand, listen, and tremble; and

such was literally the case. I have seen Colonel Lloyd make old Barney, a man between fifty and sixty years

of age, uncover his bald head, kneel down upon the cold, damp ground, and receive upon his naked and

toilworn shoulders more than thirty lashes at the time. Colonel Lloyd had three sonsEdward, Mur ray,

and Daniel,and three sonsinlaw, Mr. Winder, Mr. Nicholson, and Mr. Lowndes. All of these lived at the

Great House Farm, and enjoyed the luxury of whipping the servants when they pleased, from old Barney

down to William Wilkes, the coachdriver. I have seen Winder make one of the houseservants stand off

from him a suitable distance to be touched with the end of his whip, and at every stroke raise great ridges

To describe the wealth of Colonel Lloyd would be almost equal to describing the riches of Job. He kept from

ten to fifteen houseservants. He was said to own a thousand slaves, and I think this estimate quite within the

truth. Colonel Lloyd owned so many that he did not know them when he saw them; nor did all the slaves of

the outfarms know him. It is reported of him, that, while riding along the road one day, he met a colored

man, and addressed him in the usual manner of speaking to colored people on the public highways of the

south: "Well, boy, whom do you belong to?" "To Colonel Lloyd," re plied 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

The colonel, after ascertaining where the slave belonged, rode on; the man also went on about his business,

not dreaming that he had been conversing with his master. He thought, said, and heard noth ing more of the

matter, until two or three weeks afterwards. The poor man was then informed by his overseer that, for having

found fault with his master, he was now to be sold to a Georgia trader. He was immediately chained and

handcuffed; and thus, without a moment's warning, he was snatched away, and forever sundered, from his

family and friends, by a hand more unrelenting than death. This is the penalty of telling the truth, of telling

It is partly in consequence of such facts, that slaves, when inquired of as to their condition and the character

of their masters, almost universally 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 feel ings in regard to their

condition. The frequency of this has had the effect to establish among the slaves the maxim, that a still tongue

makes a wise head. They suppress the truth rather than take the con sequences of telling it, and in so doing

prove them selves a part of the human family. If they have any thing to say of their masters, it is generally in

their masters' favor, especially when speaking to an un tried man. I have been frequently asked, when a

slave, if I had a kind master, and do not remember ever to have given a negative answer; nor did I, in

pursuing this course, consider myself as uttering what was absolutely false; for I always measured the kind

ness of my master by the standard of kindness set up among slaveholders around us. Moreover, slaves are

like other people, and imbibe prejudices quite common to others. They think their own better than that of

others. Many, under the influence of this prejudice, think their own masters are better than the masters of

other slaves; and this, too, in some cases, when the very reverse is true. Indeed, it is not uncommon for slaves

even to fall out and quar rel among themselves about the relative goodness of their masters, each contending

for the superior good ness of his own over that of the others. At the very same time, they mutually execrate

their masters when viewed separately. It was so on our plantation. When Colonel Lloyd's slaves met the

slaves of Jacob Jepson, they seldom parted without a quarrel about their masters; Colonel Lloyd's slaves

contending that he was the richest, and Mr. Jepson's slaves that he was the smartest, and most of a man.

Colonel Lloyd's slaves would boast his ability to buy and sell Jacob Jepson. Mr. Jepson's slaves would boast

his ability to whip Colonel Lloyd. These quarrels would almost always end in a fight between the parties, and

those that whipped were supposed to have gained the point at issue. They seemed to think that the great ness

of their masters was transferable to themselves. It was considered as being bad enough to be a slave; but to be

Mr. Hopkins remained but a short time in the office of overseer. Why his career was so short, I do not know,

but suppose he lacked the necessary severity to suit Colonel Lloyd. Mr. Hopkins was suc ceeded by Mr.

Austin Gore, a man possessing, in an eminent degree, all those traits of character in dispensable to what is

called a firstrate overseer. Mr. Gore had served Colonel Lloyd, in the capacity of overseer, upon one of the

outfarms, and had shown himself worthy of the high station of overseer upon the home or Great House

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 the place for such a man. It afforded scope for the full exercise of all his powers,

and he seemed to be perfectly at home in it. He was one of those who could torture the slightest look, word,

or gesture, on the part of the slave, into impudence, and would treat it ac cordingly. There must be no

answering back to him; no explanation was allowed a slave, showing himself to have been wrongfully

accused. Mr. Gore acted fully up to the maxim laid down by slaveholders, "It is better that a dozen slaves

should suffer under the lash, than that the overseer should be convicted, in the presence of the slaves, of

having been at fault." No matter how innocent a slave might beit availed him nothing, when accused by

Mr. Gore of any misdemeanor. To be accused was to be convicted, and to be convicted was to be punished;

the one always following the other with immutable certainty. To escape punishment was to escape

accusation; and few slaves had the fortune to do either, under the overseership of Mr. Gore. He was just

proud enough to demand the most debasing homage of the slave, and quite servile enough to crouch, himself,

at the feet of the master. He was ambitious enough to be contented with nothing short of the highest rank of

overseers, and persevering enough to reach the height of his ambition. He was cruel enough to in flict the

severest punishment, artful enough to de scend to the lowest trickery, and obdurate enough to be insensible

to the voice of a reproving conscience. He was, of all the overseers, the most dreaded by the slaves. His

presence was painful; his eye flashed confusion; and seldom was his sharp, shrill voice heard, without

Mr. Gore was a grave man, and, though a young man, he indulged in no jokes, said no funny words, seldom

smiled. His words were in perfect keeping with his looks, and his looks were in perfect keeping with his

words. Overseers will sometimes indulge in a witty word, even with the slaves; not so with Mr. Gore. He

spoke but to command, and commanded but to be obeyed; he dealt sparingly with his words, and bountifully

with his 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 no consequences. 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

His savage barbarity was equalled only by the con summate coolness with which he committed the grossest

and most savage deeds upon the slaves under his charge. Mr. Gore once undertook to whip one of Colonel

Lloyd's slaves, 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 did not come out at the third

call, he would shoot him. The first call was given. Demby made no response, but stood his ground. The

second and third calls were given with the same result. Mr. Gore then, without consultation or deliberation

with any one, not even giving Demby an additional call, raised his musket to his face, taking deadly aim at

his standing victim, and in an instant poor Demby was no more. His mangled body sank out of sight, and

A thrill of horror flashed through every soul upon the plantation, excepting Mr. Gore. He alone seemed cool

and collected. He was asked by Colonel Lloyd and my old master, why he resorted to this extraordinary

expedient. His reply was, (as well as I can remember,) that Demby had become unman ageable. He was

setting a dangerous example to the other slaves,one which, if suffered to pass without some such

demonstration on his part, would finally lead to the total subversion of all rule and order upon the plantation.

He argued that if one slave re fused to be corrected, and escaped with his life, the other slaves would soon

copy the example; the re sult of which would be, the freedom of the slaves, and the enslavement of the

whites. Mr. Gore's de fence was satisfactory. He was continued in his sta tion as overseer upon the home

plantation. His fame as an overseer went abroad. His horrid crime was not even submitted to judicial

investigation. It was committed in the presence of slaves, and they of course could neither institute a suit, nor

testify against him; and thus the guilty perpetrator of one of the bloodiest and most foul murders goes

unwhipped of justice, and uncensured by the community in which he lives. Mr. Gore lived in St. Michael's,

Tal bot county, Maryland, when I left there; and if he is still alive, he very probably lives there now; and if

so, he is now, as he was then, as highly esteemed and as much respected as though his guilty soul had not

I speak advisedly when I say this,that killing a slave, or any colored person, in Talbot county, Maryland, is

not treated as a crime, either by the courts or the community. Mr. Thomas Lanman, of St. Michael's, killed

two slaves, one of whom he killed with a hatchet, by knocking his brains out. He used to boast of the

commission of the awful and bloody deed. I have heard him do so laughingly, saying, among other things,

that he was the only benefactor of his country in the company, and that when others would do as much as he

The wife of Mr. Giles Hicks, living but a short distance from where I used to live, murdered my wife's

cousin, a young girl between fifteen and six teen years of age, mangling her person in the most horrible

manner, breaking her nose and breastbone with a stick, so that the poor girl expired in a few hours afterward.

She was immediately buried, but had not been in her untimely grave but a few hours before she was taken up

and examined by the cor oner, who decided that she had come to her death by severe beating. The offence

for which this girl was thus murdered was this:She had been set that night to mind Mrs. Hicks's baby, and

during the night she fell asleep, and the baby cried. She, having lost her rest for several nights previous, did

not hear the crying. They were both in the room with Mrs. Hicks. Mrs. Hicks, finding the girl slow to move,

jumped from her bed, seized an oak stick of wood by 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 murder produced no sen sation in the

community. It did produce sensation, but not enough to bring the murderess to punish ment. There was a

warrant issued for her arrest, but it was never served. Thus she escaped not only punishment, but even the

Whilst I am detailing bloody deeds which took place during my stay on Colonel Lloyd's plantation, I will

briefly narrate another, which occurred about the same time as the murder of Demby by Mr. Gore.

Colonel Lloyd's slaves were in the habit of spend ing a part of their nights and Sundays in fishing for

oysters, and in this way made up the deficiency of their scanty allowance. An old man belonging to Colonel

Lloyd, while thus engaged, happened to get beyond the limits of Colonel Lloyd'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, and

Mr. Bondly came over to see Colonel Lloyd the next day, whether to pay him for his property, or to justify

himself in what he had done, I know not. At any rate, this whole fiendish transaction was soon hushed up.

There was very little said about it at all, and nothing done. It was a common saying, even among little white

boys, that it was worth a half cent to kill a "nigger," and a halfcent to bury one.

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 old enough to work in the field, and there being little else than field work to do, I

had a great deal of leisure time. The most I had to do was to drive up the cows at evening, keep the fowls out

of the garden, keep the front yard clean, and run of errands for my old master's daughter, Mrs. Lucretia Auld.

The most of my lei sure time I spent in helping Master Daniel Lloyd in finding his birds, after he had shot

them. My connection with Master Daniel was of some advan tage to me. He became quite attached to me,

and was a sort of protector of me. He would not allow the older boys to impose upon me, and would divide

I was seldom whipped by my old master, and suf fered little from any thing else than hunger and cold. I

suffered much from hunger, but much more from cold. In hottest summer and coldest winter, I was kept

almost nakedno shoes, no stockings, no jacket, no trousers, nothing on but a coarse tow linen shirt,

reaching only to my knees. I had no bed. I must have perished with cold, but that, the coldest nights, I used to

steal a bag which was used for carry ing corn to the mill. I would crawl into this bag, and there sleep on the

cold, damp, clay floor, with my head in and feet out. My feet have been so cracked with the frost, that the pen

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, and set down upon the ground. The children were then called, like so

many pigs, and like so many pigs they would come and devour the mush; some with oyster shells, others

with pieces of shingle, some with naked hands, and none with spoons. He that ate fastest got most; he that

I was probably between seven and eight years old when I left Colonel Lloyd's plantation. I left it with joy. I

shall never forget the ecstasy with which I received the intelligence that my old master (An thony) had

determined to let me go to Baltimore, to live with Mr. Hugh Auld, brother to my old master's soninlaw,

Captain Thomas Auld. I re ceived this information about three days before my departure. They were three

of the happiest days I ever enjoyed. I spent the most part of all these three days in the creek, washing off the

The pride of appearance which this would indicate was not my own. I spent the time in washing, not so much

because I wished to, but because Mrs. Lucretia had told me I must get all the dead skin off my feet and knees

before I could go to Balti more; for the people in Baltimore were very cleanly, and would laugh at me if I

looked dirty. Besides, she was going to give me a pair of trousers, which I should not put on unless I got all

the dirt off me. The thought of owning a pair of trousers was great indeed! It was almost a sufficient motive,

not only to make me take off what would be called by pig drovers the mange, but the skin itself. I went at it

The ties that ordinarily bind children to their homes were all suspended in my case. I found no severe trial in

my departure. My home was charm less; it was not home to me; on parting from it, I could not feel that I

was leaving any thing which I could have enjoyed by staying. My mother 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 the fact of our relationship from our

memories. I looked for home elsewhere, and was confident of finding none which I should relish less than the

one which I was leaving. If, however, I found in my new home hard ship, hunger, whipping, and nakedness,

I had the consolation that I should not have escaped any one of them by staying. Having already had more

than a taste of them in the house of my old master, and having endured them there, I very naturally inferred

my ability to endure them elsewhere, and especially at Baltimore; for I had something of the feeling about

Baltimore that is expressed in the proverb, that "being hanged in England is preferable to dying a natural

death in Ireland." I had the strongest desire to see Baltimore. Cousin Tom, though not fluent in speech, had

inspired me with that desire by his eloquent description of 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 at Baltimore far

exceeding, both in beauty and strength, the object which I pointed out to him. Even the Great House itself,

with all its pictures, was far inferior to many buildings in Bal timore. So strong was my desire, that I

thought a gratification of it would fully compensate for what ever loss of comforts I should sustain by the

ex change. I left without a regret, and with the highest hopes of future happiness.

We sailed out of Miles River for Baltimore on a Saturday morning. I remember only the day of the week, for

at that time I had no knowledge of the days of the month, nor the months of the year. On setting sail, I walked

aft, and gave to Colonel Lloyd's plantation what I hoped would be the last look. I then placed myself in the

bows of the sloop, and there spent the remainder of the day in looking ahead, interesting myself in what was

In the afternoon of that day, we reached Annap olis, the capital of the State. We stopped but a few moments,

so that I had no time to go on shore. It was the first large town that I had ever seen, and though it would look

small compared with some of our New England factory villages, I thought it a wonderful place for its

We arrived at Baltimore early on Sunday morn ing, landing at Smith's Wharf, not far from Bow ley's

Wharf. We had on board the sloop a large flock of sheep; and after aiding in driving them to the

slaughterhouse of Mr. Curtis on Louden Slater's Hill, I was conducted by Rich, one of the hands belonging on

board of the sloop, to my new home in Alliciana Street, near Mr. Gardner's shipyard, on Fells Point.

Mr. and Mrs. Auld were both at home, and met me at the door with their little son Thomas, to take care of

whom I had been given. And here I saw what I had never seen before; it was a white face beaming with the

most kindly emotions; it was the face of my new mistress, Sophia Auld. I wish I could de scribe the rapture

that flashed through my soul as I beheld it. It was a new and strange sight to me, brightening up my pathway

with the light of happi ness. Little Thomas was told, there was his Freddy, and I was told to take care of

little Thomas; and thus I entered upon the duties of my new home with the most cheering prospect ahead.

I look upon my departure from Colonel Lloyd's plantation as one of the most interesting events of my life. It

is possible, and even quite probable, that but for the mere circumstance of being removed from that plantation

to Baltimore, I should have today, instead of being here seated by my own table, in the enjoyment of

freedom and the happiness of home, writing this Narrative, been confined in the galling chains of slavery.

Going to live at Baltimore laid the foundation, and opened the gateway, to all my subsequent prosperity. I

have ever regarded it as the first plain manifestation of that kind provi dence which has ever since attended

me, and marked my life with so many favors. I regarded the selection of myself as being somewhat

remarkable. There were a number of slave children that might have been sent from the plantation to

Baltimore. There were those younger, those older, and those of the same age. I was chosen from among them

I may be deemed superstitious, and even egotisti cal, in regarding this event as a special interposition of

divine Providence in my favor. But I should be false to the earliest sentiments of my soul, if I sup pressed

the opinion. I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to

be false, and incur my own abhor rence. From my earliest recollection, I date the en tertainment of a deep

conviction that slavery would not always be able to hold me within its foul em brace; and in the darkest

hours of my career in slav ery, this living word of faith and spirit of hope de parted not from me, but

remained like ministering angels to cheer me through the gloom. This good spirit was from God, and to him I

My new mistress proved to be all she appeared when I first met her at the door,a woman of the kindest

heart and finest feelings. She had never had a slave under her control previously to myself, and prior to her

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 and

dehumanizing effects of slavery. I was utterly astonished at her goodness. I scarcely knew how to behave

towards her. She was entirely unlike any other white woman I had ever seen. I could not approach her as I

was accustomed to approach other white ladies. My early instruction was all out of place. The crouching

servility, usually so acceptable a quality in a slave, did not answer when manifested toward her. Her favor

was not gained by it; she seemed to be disturbed by it. She did not deem 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 none left without

feeling bet ter for having seen her. Her face was made of heav enly smiles, and her voice of tranquil music.

But, alas! this kind heart had but a short time to remain such. The fatal poison of irresponsible power was

already in her hands, and soon commenced its infernal work. That cheerful eye, under the influ ence of

slavery, soon became red with rage; that voice, made all of sweet accord, changed to one of harsh and horrid

Very soon after I went to live with Mr. and Mrs. Auld, she very kindly commenced to teach me the A, B, C.

After I had learned this, she assisted me in learning to spell words of three or four letters. Just at this point of

my progress, Mr. Auld found out what was going on, and at once forbade Mrs. Auld to instruct me further,

telling her, among other things, that it was unlawful, as well as unsafe, to teach a slave to read. To use his

own words, further, he said, "If you give a nigger an inch, he will take an ell. A nigger should know nothing

but to obey his masterto do as he is told to do. Learning would ~spoil~ the best nigger in the world. Now,"

said he, "if you teach that nigger (speaking of myself) how to read, there would be no keeping him. It would

for ever unfit him to be a slave. He would at once be come unmanageable, and of no value to his master.

As to himself, it could do him no good, but a great deal of harm. It would make him discontented and

unhappy." These words sank deep into my heart, stirred up sentiments within that lay slumbering, and called

into existence an entirely new train of thought. It was a new and special revelation, ex plaining dark and

mysterious things, with which my youthful understanding had struggled, but struggled in vain. I now

understood what had been to me a most perplexing difficultyto wit, the white man's power to enslave the

black man. It was a grand achievement, and I prized it highly. From that mo ment, I understood the pathway

from slavery to free dom. It was just what I wanted, and I got it at a time when I the least expected it. Whilst

I was sad dened by the thought of losing the aid of my kind mistress, I was gladdened by the invaluable

instruc tion which, by the merest accident, I had gained from my master. Though conscious of the difficulty

of learning without a teacher, I set out with high hope, and a fixed purpose, at whatever cost of trou ble, to

learn how to read. The very decided manner with which he spoke, and strove to impress his wife with the evil

consequences of giving me instruction, served to convince me that he was deeply sensible of the truths he

was uttering. It gave me the best assurance that I might rely with the utmost confi dence on the results

which, he said, would flow from teaching me to read. What he most dreaded, that I most desired. What he

most loved, that I most hated. That which to him was a great evil, to be carefully shunned, was to me a great

good, to be diligently sought; and the argument which he so warmly urged, against my learning to read, only

served to inspire me with a desire and determina tion to learn. In learning to read, I owe almost as much to

the bitter opposition of my master, as to the kindly aid of my mistress. I acknowledge the benefit of both.

I had resided but a short time in Baltimore before I observed a marked difference, in the treatment of slaves,

from that which I had witnessed in the coun try. A city slave is almost a freeman, compared with a slave on

the plantation. He is much better fed and clothed, and enjoys privileges altogether unknown to the slave on

the plantation. There is a vestige of decency, a sense of shame, that does much to curb and check those

outbreaks of atrocious cruelty so commonly enacted upon the plantation. He is a des perate slaveholder,

who will shock the humanity of his nonslaveholding neighbors with the cries of his lacerated slave. Few are

willing to incur the odium attaching to the reputation of being a cruel master; and above all things, they

would not be known as not giving a slave enough to eat. Every city slave holder is anxious to have it known

of him, that he feeds his slaves well; and it is due to them to 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. Their names were Henrietta and Mary. Henrietta

was about twentytwo years of age, Mary was about four teen; and of all the mangled and emaciated

creatures I ever looked upon, these two were the most so. His heart must be harder than stone, that could look

upon these unmoved. The head, neck, and shoulders of Mary were literally cut to pieces. I have fre quently

felt her head, and found it nearly covered with festering sores, caused by the lash of her cruel mistress. I do

not know that her master ever whipped her, but I have been an eyewitness to the cruelty of 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 cow skin always by her side, and scarce an hour passed during the day but was

marked by the blood of one of these slaves. The girls seldom passed her without her saying, "Move faster,

you ~black gip!~" at the same time giving them a blow with the cowskin over the head or shoulders, often

drawing the blood. She would then say, "Take that, you ~black gip!~" con tinuing, "If you don't move

faster, I'll move you!" Added to the cruel lashings to which these slaves were subjected, they were kept

nearly halfstarved. They seldom knew what it was to eat a full meal. I have seen Mary contending with the

pigs for the offal thrown into the street. So much was Mary kicked and cut to pieces, that she was oftener

I lived in Master Hugh's family about seven years. During this time, I succeeded in learning to read and write.

In accomplishing this, I was compelled to re sort to various stratagems. I had no regular teacher. My

mistress, who had kindly commenced to instruct me, had, in compliance with the advice and direc tion of

her husband, not only ceased to instruct, but had set her face against my being instructed by any one else. It is

due, however, to my mistress to say of her, that she did not adopt this course of treat ment immediately. She

at first lacked the depravity indispensable to shutting me up in mental darkness. It was at least necessary for

her to have some training in the exercise of irresponsible power, to make her equal to the task of treating me

My mistress was, as I have said, a kind and tender hearted woman; and in the simplicity of her soul she

commenced, when I first went to live with her, 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 to perceive that I sus tained to her the

relation of a mere chattel, and that for her to treat me as a human being was not only wrong, but dangerously

so. Slavery proved as injurious to her as it did to me. When I went there, she was a pious, warm, and

tenderhearted woman. There was no sorrow or suffering for which she had not a tear. She had bread for the

hungry, clothes for the naked, and comfort for every mourner that came within her reach. Slavery soon

proved its ability to divest her of these heavenly qualities. Under its in fluence, the tender heart became

stone, and the lamblike disposition gave way to one of tigerlike fierceness. The first step in her downward

course was in her ceasing to instruct me. She now commenced to practise her husband's precepts. She finally

be came even more violent in her opposition than her husband himself. She was not satisfied with simply

doing as well as he had commanded; she seemed anxious to do better. Nothing seemed to make her more

angry than to see me with a newspaper. She seemed to think that here lay the danger. I have had her rush at

me with a face made all up of fury, and snatch from me a newspaper, in a manner that fully revealed her

apprehension. She was an apt woman; and a little experience soon demonstrated, to her satisfaction, that

From this time I was most narrowly watched. If I was in a separate room any considerable length of time, I

was sure to be suspected of having a 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, in teaching me the alphabet, had given me the

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 in the street. As many of these as I could, I converted into teach ers. With their

kindly aid, obtained at different times and in different places, I finally succeeded in learn ing to read. When

I was sent of errands, I always took my book with me, and by going one part of my errand quickly, I found

time to get a lesson be fore my return. I used also to carry bread with me, enough of which was always in

the house, and to which I was always welcome; for I was much better off in this regard than many of the poor

white chil dren in our neighborhood. This bread I used to be stow upon the hungry little urchins, who, in

return, would give me that more valuable bread of knowl edge. I am strongly tempted to give the names of

two or three of those little boys, as a testimonial of the gratitude and affection I bear them; but pru dence

forbids;not that it would injure me, but it might embarrass them; for it is almost an unpar donable offence

to teach slaves to read in this Chris tian country. It is enough to say of the dear little fellows, that they lived

on Philpot Street, very near Durgin and Bailey's shipyard. I used to talk this matter of slavery over with

them. I would sometimes say to them, I wished I could be as free as they would be when they got to be men.

"You will be free as soon as you are twentyone, ~but I am a slave for life!~ Have not I as good a right to be

free as you have?" These words used to trouble them; they would express for me the liveliest sympathy, and

I was now about twelve years old, and the thought of being ~a slave for life~ began to bear heavily upon my

heart. Just about this time, I got hold of a book entitled "The Columbian Orator." Every opportu nity I got, I

used to read this book. Among much of other interesting matter, I found in it a dialogue be tween a master

and his slave. The slave was repre sented as having run away from his master three times. The dialogue

represented the conversation which took place between them, when the slave was retaken the third time. In

this dialogue, the whole argument in behalf of slavery was brought forward by the master, all of which was

disposed of by the slave. The slave was made to say some very smart as well as impressive things in reply to

his master things which had the desired though unexpected ef fect; for the conversation resulted in the

In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on and in behalf of Catholic eman cipation.

These were choice documents to me. I read them over and over again with unabated interest. They gave

tongue to interesting thoughts of my own soul, which had frequently flashed through my mind, and died

away for want of utterance. The moral which I gained from the dialogue was the power of truth over the

conscience of even a slaveholder. What I got from Sheridan was a bold denunciation of slav ery, and a

powerful vindication of human rights. The reading of these documents enabled me to utter my thoughts, and

to meet the arguments brought forward to sustain slavery; but while they relieved me of one difficulty, they

brought on an other even more painful than the one of which I was relieved. The more I read, the more I

was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other light than a band of successful

robbers, who had left their homes, and gone to Africa, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land

reduced us to slavery. I loathed them as being the meanest as well as the most wicked of men. As I read and

contemplated the subject, behold! that very discontentment which Master Hugh had predicted would follow

my learning to read had already come, to torment and sting my soul to unutterable anguish. As I writhed

under it, I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a bless ing. It had given me a

view of my wretched condi tion, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder

upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I envied my fellowslaves for their stupidity. I have often

wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what,

to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my con dition that tormented me. There was no

getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within sight or hearing, animate or inanimate. The

silver trump of freedom had roused my soul to eternal wakefulness. Freedom now appeared, to disappear no

more forever. It was heard in every sound, and seen in every thing. It was ever present to torment me with a

sense of my wretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, I heard nothing without hearing it, and felt

nothing without feeling it. It looked from every star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and

I often found myself regretting my own existence, and wishing myself dead; and but for the hope of being

free, I have no doubt but that I should have killed myself, or done something for which I should have been

killed. While in this state of mind, I was eager to hear any one speak of slavery. I was a ready listener. Every

little while, I could hear something about the abolitionists. It was some time before I found what the word

meant. It was always used in such connections as to make it an interesting word to me. If a slave ran away

and succeeded in getting clear, or if a slave killed his master, set fire to a barn, or did any thing very wrong in

the mind of a slaveholder, it was spoken of as the fruit of ~abolition.~ Hearing the word in this connection

very often, I set about learning what it meant. The dictionary af forded me little or no help. I found it was

"the act of abolishing;" but then I did not know what was to be abolished. Here I was perplexed. I did not

dare to ask any one about its meaning, for I was satisfied that it was something they wanted me to know very

little about. After a patient waiting, I got one of our city papers, containing an account of the number of

petitions from the north, praying for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, and of the slave

trade between the States. From this time I understood the words ~abolition~ and ~abolition ist,~ and always

drew near when that word was spoken, expecting to hear something of importance to my self and

fellowslaves. The light broke in upon 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, and helped them. When we had finished,

one of them came to me and asked me if I were a slave. I told him I was. He asked, "Are ye a slave for life?"

I told him that I was. The good Irishman seemed to be deeply af fected by the statement. He said to the other

that it was a pity so fine a little fellow as myself should be a slave for life. He said it was 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

pretended not to be interested in what they said, and treated them as if I did not under stand them; for I

feared they might be treacherous. White men have been known to encourage slaves to escape, and then, to get

the reward, catch them and return them to their masters. I was afraid that these seemingly good men might

use me so; but I never theless remembered their advice, and from that time I resolved to run away. I looked

forward to a time at which it would be safe for me to escape. I was too young to think of doing so

immediately; besides, I wished to learn how to write, as I might have oc casion to write my own pass. I

consoled myself with the hope that I should one day find a good chance. Meanwhile, I would learn to write.

The idea as to how I might learn to write was suggested to me by being in Durgin and Bailey's shipyard, and

frequently seeing the ship carpenters, 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 was intended. When a piece of timber was intended for

the larboard side, it would be marked thus"L." When a piece was for the starboard side, it would be

marked thus"S." A piece for the larboard side forward, would be marked thus"L. F." When a piece was

for starboard side forward, it would be marked thus"S. F." For lar board aft, it would be marked

thus"L. A." For star board aft, it would be marked thus"S. A." I soon learned the names of these

letters, and for what they were intended when placed upon a piece of timber in the shipyard. I immediately

commenced copying them, and in a short time was able to make the four letters named. After that, when I met

with any boy who I knew could write, I would tell him I could write as well as he. The next word would be,

"I don't believe you. Let me see you try it." I would then make the letters which 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 quite possible I

should never have gotten in any other way. During this time, my copybook was the board fence, brick wall,

and pavement; my pen and ink was a lump of chalk. With these, I learned mainly how to write. I then

commenced and continued copying the Italics in Webster's Spelling Book, until I could make them all

without looking on the book. By this time, my little Master Thomas had gone to school, and learned how to

write, and had written over a number of copybooks. These had been brought home, and shown to some of

our near neighbors, and then laid aside. My mistress used to go to class meeting at the Wilk Street

meetinghouse every Monday after noon, and leave me to take care of the house. When left thus, I used to

spend the time in writing in the spaces left in Master Thomas's copybook, copying what he had written. I

continued to do this until I could write a hand very similar to that of Master Thomas. Thus, after a long,

In a very short time after I went to live at Balti more, my old master's youngest son Richard died; and in

about three years and six months after his death, my old master, Captain Anthony, died, leav only his son,

Andrew, and daughter, Lucretia, to share his estate. He died while on a visit to see his daughter at

Hillsborough. Cut off thus unexpectedly, he left no will as to the disposal of his property. It was therefore

necessary to have a valuation of the property, that it might be equally divided between Mrs. Lucretia and

Master Andrew. I was immedi ately sent for, to be valued with the other property. Here again my feelings

rose up in detestation of slavery. I had now a new conception of my degraded condition. Prior to this, I had

become, if not in sensible to my lot, at least partly so. I left Baltimore with a young heart overborne with

sadness, and a soul full of apprehension. I took passage with Cap tain Rowe, in the schooner Wild Cat, and,

after a sail of about twentyfour hours, I found myself near the place of my birth. I had now been absent from

it almost, if not quite, five years. I, however, re membered the place very well. I was only about five years

old when I left it, to go and live with my old master on Colonel Lloyd's plantation; so that I was now between

We were all ranked together at the valuation. Men and women, old and young, married and single, were

ranked with horses, sheep, and swine. There were horses and men, cattle and women, pigs and chil dren, all

holding the same rank in the scale of being, and were all subjected to the same narrow examina tion.

Silveryheaded age and sprightly youth, maids and matrons, had to undergo the same indelicate inspection.

At this moment, I saw more clearly than ever the brutalizing effects of slavery upon both slave and

After the valuation, then came the division. I have no language to express the high excitement and deep

anxiety which were felt among us poor 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 were ranked. A single word from the

white men was enoughagainst all our wishes, prayers, and entreatiesto sunder forever the dearest

friends, dearest kindred, and strongest ties known to human beings. In addition to the pain of separation, there

was the horrid dread of falling into the hands of Master Andrew. He was known to us all as being a most

cruel wretch,a common drunk ard, who had, by his reckless mismanagement and profligate dissipation,

already wasted a large por tion of his father's property. We all felt that we might as well be sold at once to

the Georgia traders, as to pass into his hands; for we knew that that would be our inevitable condition,a

I suffered more anxiety than most of my fellow slaves. I had known what it was to be kindly treated; they

had known nothing of the kind. They had seen little or nothing of the world. They were in very deed men and

women of sorrow, and acquainted with grief. Their backs had been made familiar with the bloody lash, so

that they had become callous; mine was yet tender; for while at Baltimore I got few whip pings, and few

slaves could boast of a kinder master and mistress than myself; and the thought of pass ing 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 with the heel of his boot

stamped upon his head till the blood gushed from his nose and earswas well calculated to make me

anxious as to my fate. After he had committed this savage outrage upon my brother, he turned to me, and said

that was the way he meant to serve me one of these days,mean ing, I suppose, when I came into his

Thanks to a kind Providence, I fell to the portion of Mrs. Lucretia, and was sent immediately back to

Baltimore, to live again in the family of Master Hugh. Their joy at my return equalled their sorrow at my

departure. It was a glad day to me. I had escaped a worse than lion's jaws. I was absent from Baltimore, for

the purpose of valuation and division, just about one month, and it seemed to have been six.

Very soon after my return to Baltimore, my mis tress, Lucretia, died, leaving her husband and one child,

Amanda; and in a very short time after her death, Master Andrew died. Now all the property of my old

master, slaves included, was in the hands of strangers,strangers who had 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

thing in my experience, more than another, served to deepen my conviction of the infernal char acter of

slavery, and to fill me with unutterable loathing of slaveholders, it was their base ingrati tude to my poor old

grandmother. She had served my old master faithfully from youth to old age. She had been the source of all

his wealth; she had peo pled his plantation with slaves; she had become a great grandmother in his service.

She had rocked him in infancy, attended him in childhood, served him through life, and at his death wiped

from his icy brow the cold deathsweat, and closed his eyes forever. She was nevertheless left a slavea

slave for lifea slave in the hands of strangers; and in their hands she saw her children, her grandchildren,

and her greatgrandchildren, divided, like so many sheep, without being gratified with the small privilege of

a single word, as to their or her own destiny. And, to cap the climax of their base ingratitude and fiendish

barbarity, my grandmother, who was now very old, having outlived my old master and all his children,

having seen the beginning and end of all of them, and her present owners finding she was of but little value,

her frame already racked with the pains of old age, and complete helplessness fast stealing over her once

active limbs, they took her to the woods, built her a little hut, put up a little mudchimney, and then made her

welcome to the privilege of support ing herself there in perfect loneliness; thus virtually turning her out to

die! If my poor old grandmother now lives, she lives to suffer in utter loneliness; she lives to remember and

mourn over the loss of chil dren, the loss of grandchildren, and the loss of great grandchildren. They are, in

The hearth is desolate. The children, the uncon scious children, who once sang and danced in her presence,

are gone. She gropes her way, in the dark ness of age, for a drink of water. Instead of the voices of her

children, she hears by day the moans of the dove, and by night the screams of the hideous owl. All is gloom.

The grave is at the door. And now, when weighed down by the pains and aches of old age, when the head

inclines to the feet, when the beginning and ending of human existence meet, and helpless infancy and

painful old age combine to getherat this time, this most needful time, the time for the exercise of that

tenderness and affection which children only can exercise towards a declining parentmy poor old

grandmother, the devoted mother of twelve children, is left all alone, in yonder little hut, before a few dim

embers. She stands she sitsshe staggersshe fallsshe groansshe dies and there are none of her

children or grandchildren present, to wipe from her wrinkled brow the cold sweat of death, or to place

beneath the sod her fallen remains. Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

In about two years after the death of Mrs. Lu cretia, Master Thomas married his second wife. Her name was

Rowena Hamilton. She was the eldest daughter of Mr. William Hamilton. Master now lived in St. Michael's.

Not long after his marriage, a misunderstanding took place between himself and Master Hugh; and as a

means of punishing his brother, he took me from him to live with himself at St. Michael's. Here I underwent

another most painful separation. It, however, was not so severe as the one I dreaded at the division of

property; for, during this interval, a great change had taken place in Master Hugh and his once kind and

affectionate wife. The influence of brandy upon him, and of slavery upon her, had effected a disastrous

change in the characters of both; so that, as far as they were concerned, I thought I had little to lose by the

change. But it was not to them that I was attached. It was to those little Baltimore boys that I felt the strongest

attachment. I had received many good lessons from them, and was still receiving them, and the thought of

leaving them was painful indeed. I was leaving, too, without the hope of ever being allowed to return. Master

Thomas had said he would never let me return again. The barrier betwixt him self and brother he considered

I then had to regret that I did not at least make the attempt to carry out my resolution to run away; for the

I sailed from Baltimore for St. Michael's in the sloop Amanda, Captain Edward Dodson. On my passage, I

paid particular attention to the direction 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 northeasterly direc tion. I deemed this

knowledge of the utmost im portance. My determination to run away was again revived. I resolved to wait

only so long as the offering of a favorable opportunity. When that came, I was determined to be off.

I have now reached a period of my life when I can give dates. I left Baltimore, 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 him in

the family of my old mas ter, on Colonel Lloyd's plantation. We of course were now almost entire strangers

to each other. He was to me a new master, and I to him a new slave. I was ignorant of his temper and

disposition; he was equally so of mine. A very short time, however, brought us into full acquaintance with

each other. I was made acquainted with his wife not less than with himself. They were well matched, being

equally mean and cruel. I was now, for the first time during a space of more than seven years, made to feel

the painful gnawings of hungera something which I had not experienced before since I left Colonel Lloyd's

plantation. It went hard enough with me then, when I could look back to no period at which I had enjoyed a

sufficiency. It was tenfold harder after living in Master Hugh's family, where I had always had enough to eat,

and of that which was good. I have said Master Thomas was a mean man. He was so. Not to give a slave

enough to eat, is regarded as the most aggravated development of meanness even among slaveholders. The

rule is, no matter how coarse the food, only let there be enough of it. This is the theory; and in the part of

Maryland from which I came, it is the general practice,though there are many exceptions. Master Thomas

gave us enough of neither coarse nor fine food. There were four slaves of us in the kitchenmy sister Eliza,

my aunt Priscilla, Henny, and myself; and we were al lowed less than a half of a bushel of cornmeal per

week, and very little else, either in the shape of meat or vegetables. It was not enough for us to subsist upon.

We were therefore reduced to the wretched necessity of living at the expense of our neighbors. This we did

by begging and stealing, whichever came handy in the time of need, the one being considered as legitimate as

the other. A great many times have we poor creatures been nearly perishing with hunger, when food in

abundance lay mouldering in the safe and smokehouse, and our pious mistress was aware of the fact; and

yet that mistress and her husband would kneel every morn ing, and pray that God would bless them in

Bad as all slaveholders are, we seldom meet one destitute of every element of character commanding respect.

My master was one of this rare sort. I do not know of one single noble act ever performed by him. The

leading trait in his character was mean ness; and if there were any other element 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, master only of a Bay craft. He came into

possession of all his slaves by marriage; and of all men, adopted slave holders are the worst. He was cruel,

but cowardly. He commanded without firmness. In the enforce ment of his rules, he was at times rigid, and

at times lax. At times, he spoke to his slaves with the firmness of Napoleon and the fury of a demon; at other

times, he might well be mistaken for an inquirer who had lost his way. He did nothing of himself. He might

have passed for a lion, but for his ears. In all things noble which he attempted, his own meanness shone most

conspicuous. His airs, words, and actions, were the airs, words, and actions of born slave holders, and, being

assumed, were awkward enough. He was not even a good imitator. He possessed all the disposition to

deceive, but wanted the power. Having no resources within himself, he was com pelled to be the copyist of

many, and being such, he was forever the victim of inconsistency; and of con sequence he was an object of

contempt, and was held as such even by his slaves. The luxury of having slaves of his own to wait upon him

was something new and unprepared for. He was a slaveholder with out the ability to hold slaves. He found

himself in capable of managing his slaves either by force, fear, or fraud. We seldom called him "master;" we

gen erally called him "Captain Auld," and were hardly disposed to title him at all. I doubt not that our

conduct had much to do with making him appear awkward, and of consequence fretful. Our want of

reverence for him must have perplexed him greatly. He wished to have us call him master, but lacked the

firmness necessary to command us to do so. His wife used to insist upon our calling him so, but to no

purpose. In August, 1832, my master attended a Methodist campmeeting held in the Bayside, Tal bot

county, and there experienced religion. I in dulged a faint hope that his conversion would lead him to

emancipate his slaves, and that, if he did not do this, it would, at any rate, make him more kind and humane. I

was disappointed in both these re spects. It neither made him to be humane to his slaves, nor to emancipate

them. If it had any effect on his character, it made him more cruel and hateful in all his ways; for I believe

him to have been a much worse man after his conversion than before. Prior to his conversion, he relied upon

his own depravity to shield and sustain him in his savage barbarity; but after his conversion, he found

religious sanction and support for his slaveholding cruelty. He made the greatest pretensions to piety. His

house was the house of prayer. He prayed morning, noon, and night. He very soon distinguished himself

among his brethren, and was soon made a classleader and exhorter. His activity in revivals was great, and he

proved himself an instrument in the hands of the church in converting many souls. His house was the

preachers' home. They used to take great pleasure in coming there to put up; for while he starved us, he

stuffed them. We have had three or four preachers there at a time. The names of 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 believed him to be a good man. We

thought him instrumental in get ting Mr. Samuel Harrison, a very rich slaveholder, to emancipate his slaves;

and by some means got the impression that he was laboring to effect the emanci pation of all the slaves.

When he was at our house, we were sure to be called in to prayers. When the others were there, we were

sometimes called in and sometimes not. Mr. Cookman took more notice of us than either of the other

ministers. He could not come among us without betraying his sympathy for us, and, stupid as we were, we

While I lived with my master in St. Michael's, there was a white young man, a Mr. Wilson, who proposed to

keep a Sabbath school for the instruction of such slaves as might be disposed to learn to read the New

Testament. We met but three times, when Mr. West and Mr. Fairbanks, both classleaders, with many others,

came upon us with sticks and other missiles, drove us off, and forbade us to meet again. Thus ended our little

I have said my master found religious sanction for his cruelty. As an example, 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 heavy cowskin

upon her naked shoulders, causing the warm red blood to drip; and, in justification of the bloody deed, he

would quote this passage of Scripture"He that knoweth his master's will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten

Master would keep this lacerated young woman tied up in this horrid situation four or five hours at a time. I

have known him to tie her up early in the morning, and whip her before breakfast; leave her, go to his store,

return at dinner, and whip her again, cutting her in the places already made raw with his cruel lash. The secret

of master's cruelty toward "Henny" is found in the fact of her being almost helpless. When quite a child, she

fell into the fire, and burned herself horribly. 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 a bill of expense; and as he was a mean man,

she was a constant offence to 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 was not disposed to keep her. Finally, my benevolent

master, to use his own words, "set her adrift to take care of herself." Here was a re centlyconverted man,

holding on upon the mother, and at the same time turning out her helpless child, to starve and die! Master

Thomas was one of the many pious slaveholders who hold slaves for the very charitable purpose of taking

My master and myself had quite a number of differences. He found me unsuitable to his purpose. My city

life, he said, had had a very pernicious effect upon me. It had almost ruined me for every good purpose, and

fitted me for every thing which was bad. One of my greatest faults was that of letting his horse run away, and

go down to his fatherin law's farm, which was about five miles from St. Michael's. I would 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 I went there. Master William Hamilton, my master's fatherinlaw, always gave his slaves enough to

eat. I never left there hungry, no matter how great the need of my speedy return. Master Thomas at length

said he would stand it no longer. I had lived with him nine months, during which time he had given me a

number of severe whippings, all to no good purpose. He resolved to put me out, as he said, to be broken; and,

for this purpose, he let me for one year to a man named Edward Covey. Mr. Covey was a poor man, a

farmrenter. He rented the place upon which he lived, as also the hands with which he tilled it. Mr. Covey

had acquired a very high reputation for breaking young slaves, and this repu tation was of immense value to

him. It enabled him to get his farm tilled with much less expense to himself than he could have had it done

without such a reputation. Some slaveholders thought it not much loss to allow Mr. Covey to have their

slaves one year, for the sake of the training to which they were subjected, without any other compensation.

He could hire young help with great ease, in con sequence of this reputation. Added to the natural good

qualities of Mr. Covey, he was a professor of religiona pious soula member and a classleader in the

Methodist church. All of this added weight to his reputation as a "niggerbreaker." I was aware of all the

facts, having been made acquainted with them by a young man who had lived there. I never theless made

the change gladly; for I was sure of getting enough to eat, which is not the smallest consideration to a hungry

I had left Master Thomas's house, and went to live with Mr. Covey, on the 1st of January, 1833. I was now,

for the first time in my life, a field hand. In my new employment, I found myself even more awkward than a

country boy appeared to be in a large city. I had been at my new home but one week before Mr. Covey gave

me a very severe whip ping, cutting my back, causing the blood to run, and raising ridges on my flesh as

large as 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 in the month of January, to the woods, to get a load of wood. He gave me

a team of un broken oxen. He told me which was the inhand ox, and which the offhand one. He then tied

the end of a large rope around the horns of the inhand ox, and gave me the other end of it, and told me, if the

oxen started to run, that I must hold on upon the rope. I had never driven oxen before, and of course I was

very awkward. I, however, succeeded in getting to the edge of the woods with little diffi culty; but I had got

a very few rods into the woods, when the oxen took fright, and started full tilt, carry ing the cart against

trees, and over stumps, in the most frightful manner. I expected every moment that my brains would be

dashed out against the trees. After running thus for a considerable dis tance, they finally upset the cart,

dashing it with great 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 a thick wood, in a place new to me. My cart was upset and shat

tered, my oxen were entangled among the young trees, and there was none to help me. After a long spell of

effort, I succeeded in getting my cart righted, my oxen disentangled, and again yoked to the cart. I now

proceeded with my team to the place where I had, the day before, been chopping wood, and loaded my cart

pretty heavily, thinking in this way to tame my oxen. I then proceeded on my way home. I had now

consumed one half of the day. I got out of the woods safely, and now felt out of danger. I stopped my oxen to

open the woods gate; and just as I did so, before I could get hold of my oxrope, the oxen again started,

rushed through the gate, catching it between the wheel and the body of the cart, tearing it to pieces, and

coming within a few inches of crushing me against the gatepost. Thus twice, in one short day, I escaped

death by the merest chance. On my return, I told Mr. Covey what had happened, and how it happened. He

or dered me to return to the woods again immediately. I did so, and he followed on after me. Just as I got

into the woods, he came up and told me to stop my cart, and that he would teach me how to trifle away my

time, and break gates. He then went to a large gumtree, and with his axe cut three large switches, and, after

trimming them up neatly with his pocket knife, he ordered me to take off my clothes. I made him no answer,

but stood with my clothes on. He repeated his order. I still made him no answer, nor did I move to strip

myself. Upon this he rushed at me with the fierceness of a tiger, tore off my clothes, and lashed me till he had

worn out his switches, cutting me so savagely as to leave the marks visible for a long time after. This

I lived with Mr. Covey one year. During the first six months, of that year, scarce a week passed with out his

whipping me. I was seldom free from a sore back. My awkwardness was almost always his ex cuse for

whipping me. We were worked fully up to the point of endurance. Long before day we were up, our horses

fed, and by the first approach of day we were off to the field with our hoes and plough ing teams. Mr.

Covey gave us enough to eat, but scarce time to eat it. We were often less than five minutes taking our meals.

We were often in the field from the first approach of day till its last lingering ray had left us; and at

Covey would be out with us. The way he used to stand it, was this. He would spend the most of his

afternoons in bed. He would then come out fresh in the evening, ready to urge us on with his words, example,

and frequently with the whip. Mr. Covey was one of the few slaveholders who could and did work with his

hands. He was a hardworking man. He knew by himself 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; and he 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 we were at work openly, if he could do it secretly. He always aimed at taking 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,

he would sometimes crawl on his hands and knees to avoid detection, and all 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 was

never safe to stop a single minute. His comings were like a thief in the night. He appeared to us as being ever

at hand. He was under every tree, behind every stump, in every bush, and at every window, on the plantation.

He would sometimes mount his horse, as if bound to St. Mi chael's, a distance of seven miles, and in half an

hour afterwards you would see him coiled up in the corner of the woodfence, watching every motion of the

slaves. He would, for this purpose, leave his horse tied up in the woods. Again, he would some times walk

up to us, and give us orders 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 house to get ready; and, before he would get half way thither, he

would turn short and crawl into a fencecorner, or behind some tree, and there watch us till the going down

Mr. Covey's FORTE consisted in his power to de ceive. His life was devoted to planning and perpe trating

the grossest deceptions. Every thing he pos sessed in the shape of learning or religion, he made conform to

his disposition to deceive. He seemed to think himself equal to deceiving the Almighty. He would make a

short prayer in the morning, and a long prayer at night; and, strange as it may seem, few men would at times

appear more devotional than he. The exercises of his family devotions were always commenced with singing;

and, as he was a very poor singer himself, the duty of raising the hymn generally came upon me. He would

read his hymn, and nod at me to commence. I would at times do so; at others, I would not. My noncom

pliance would almost always produce much confu sion. To show himself independent of me, he would start

and stagger through with his hymn in the most discordant manner. In this state of mind, he prayed with more

than ordinary spirit. Poor man! such was his disposition, and success at deceiving, I do verily believe that he

sometimes deceived himself into the solemn belief, that he was a sincere worshipper of the most high God;

and this, too, at a time when he may be said to have been guilty of compelling his woman slave to commit the

sin of adultery. The facts in the case are these: Mr. Covey was a poor man; he was just commencing in life;

he was only able to buy one slave; and, shocking as is the fact, he bought her, as he said, for A BREEDER.

This woman was named Caroline. Mr. Covey bought her from Mr. Thomas Lowe, about six miles from St.

Mi chael's. She was a large, ablebodied woman, about twenty years old. She had already given birth to one

child, which proved her to be just what he wanted. After buying her, he hired a married man of Mr. Samuel

Harrison, to live with him one year; and him he used to fasten up with her every night! The re sult 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 man and the wretched woman. Such was his joy, and that of his wife, that nothing they

could do for Caroline during her confinement was too good, or too hard, to be done. The children were

If at any one time of my life more than another, I was made to drink the bitterest dregs of slavery, that time

was during the first six months of my stay with Mr. Covey. We were worked in all weathers. It was never too

hot or too cold; it could never rain, blow, hail, or snow, too hard for us to work in the field. Work, work,

work, was scarcely more the order of the day than of the night. The longest days were too short for him, and

the shortest nights too long for him. I was somewhat unmanageable when 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, and spirit. My

natural elasticity was crushed, my intellect languished, the disposition to read departed, the cheerful spark

that lingered about my eye died; the dark night of slavery closed in upon me; and behold a man transformed

Sunday was my only leisure time. I spent this in a sort of beastlike stupor, between sleep and wake, under

some large tree. At times I would rise up, a flash of energetic freedom would dart through my soul,

accompanied with a faint beam of hope, that flickered for a moment, and then vanished. I sank down again,

mourning over my wretched condition. I was sometimes prompted to take my life, and that of Covey, but was

prevented by a combination of hope and fear. My sufferings on this plantation seem now like a dream rather

Our house stood within a few rods of the Chesa peake Bay, whose broad bosom was ever white with sails

from every quarter of the habitable globe. Those beautiful vessels, robed in purest white, so delightful to the

eye of freemen, were to me so many shrouded ghosts, to terrify and torment me with thoughts of my

wretched condition. I have of ten, in the deep stillness of a summer's Sabbath, stood all alone upon the lofty

banks of that noble bay, and traced, with saddened heart and tearful eye, the countless number of sails

moving off to the mighty ocean. The sight of these always affected me powerfully. My thoughts would

compel utter ance; and there, with no audience but the Almighty, I would pour out my soul's complaint, in

"You are loosed from your moorings, and are free; I am fast in my chains, and am a slave! You move merrily

before the gentle gale, and I sadly before the bloody whip! You are freedom's swiftwinged angels, that fly

round the world; I am confined in bands of iron! O that I were free! O, that I were on one of your gallant

decks, and under your pro tecting wing! Alas! betwixt me and you, the turbid waters roll. Go on, go on. O

that I could also go! Could I but swim! If I could fly! O, why was I born a man, of whom to make a brute!

The glad ship is gone; she hides in the dim distance. I am left in the hottest hell of unending slavery. O God,

save me! God, deliver me! Let me be free! Is there any God? Why am I a slave? I will run away. I will not

stand it. Get caught, or get clear, I'll try it. I had as well die with ague as the fever. I have only one life to lose.

I had as well be killed running as die standing. Only think of it; one hundred miles straight north, and I am

free! Try it? Yes! God helping me, I will. It cannot be that I shall live and die a slave. I will take to the water.

This very bay shall yet bear me into freedom. The steam boats steered in a northeast course from North

Point. I will do the same; and when I get to the head of the bay, I will turn my canoe adrift, and walk straight

through Delaware into Pennsylvania. When I get there, I shall not be required to have a pass; I can travel

without being disturbed. Let but the first opportunity offer, and, come what will, I am off. Meanwhile, I will

try to bear up under the yoke. I am not the only slave in the world. Why should I fret? I can bear as much as

any of them. Besides, I am but a boy, and all boys are bound to some one. It may be that my misery in slavery

Thus I used to think, and thus I used to speak to myself; goaded almost to madness at one mo ment, and at

I have already intimated that my condition was much worse, during the first six months of my stay at Mr.

Covey's, than in the last six. The circum stances leading to the change in Mr. Covey's course toward me

form an 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 days of the month of August, 1833, Bill Smith, William Hughes, a

slave named Eli, and myself, were engaged in fanning wheat. Hughes was clearing the fanned wheat from

before the fan. Eli was turning, Smith was feeding, and I was carrying wheat to the fan. The work was simple,

requiring strength rather than intellect; yet, to one entirely unused to such work, 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 what was 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 I

could stand no longer, I fell, and felt as if held down by an immense weight. 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 the same

Mr. Covey was at the house, about one hundred yards from the treadingyard where we were fanning. On

hearing the fan stop, he left immediately, and came to the spot where we were. He hastily in quired what the

matter was. Bill answered that I was sick, and there was no one to bring wheat to the fan. I had by this time

crawled away under the side of the post and railfence by which the yard was enclosed, hoping to find relief

by getting out of the sun. He then asked where I was. He was told by one of the hands. He came to the spot,

and, after looking at me 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 in the side, and told me to get up. I tried to do so, but fell

back in the attempt. He gave me another kick, and again told me to rise. I again tried, and succeeded in

gaining my feet; but, stoop ing to get the tub with which I was feeding the fan, I again staggered and fell.

While down in this situation, Mr. Covey took up the hickory slat with which Hughes had been striking off the

halfbushel measure, and with it gave me a heavy blow upon the head, making a large wound, and the blood

ran freely; and with this again told me to get up. I made no effort to comply, having now made up my mind to

let him do his worst. In a short time after re ceiving this blow, my head grew better. Mr. Covey had now left

me to my fate. At this moment I re solved, for the first time, to go to my master, enter a complaint, and ask

his protection. In order to do this, I must that afternoon walk seven miles; and this, under the circumstances,

was truly a severe undertaking. I was exceedingly feeble; made so as much by the kicks and blows which I

received, as by the severe 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

considerable distance on my way to the woods, when Covey discovered me, and called after me to come

back, threatening what he would do if I did not come. I disregarded both his calls and his threats, and made

my way to the woods as fast as my feeble state would allow; and thinking I might be over hauled by him if I

kept the road, I walked through the woods, keeping far enough from the road to avoid detection, and near

enough to prevent losing my way. I had not gone far before my little strength again failed me. I could go no

farther. I fell down, and lay for a considerable 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 I should have done so, but that the blood so

matted my hair as to stop the wound. After lying there about three quarters of an hour, I nerved myself up

again, and started on my way, through bogs and briers, barefooted and bareheaded, tearing my feet

sometimes at nearly every step; and after a journey of about seven miles, occupying some five hours to

perform it, I arrived at master's store. I then pre sented an appearance enough to affect any but a heart of

iron. From the crown of my head to my feet, I was covered with blood. My hair was all clotted with dust and

blood; my shirt was stiff with blood. I suppose I looked like a man who had es caped a den of wild beasts,

and barely escaped them. In this state I appeared before my master, humbly entreating him to interpose his

authority for my protection. I told him all the circumstances as well as I could, and it seemed, as I spoke, at

times to affect him. He would then walk the floor, and seek to justify Covey by saying 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 there was 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 me from 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 to

him, come what might; and that I must not trouble him with any more stories, or that he would himself GET

HOLD OF ME. After threatening me thus, he gave me a very large dose of salts, telling me that I might

remain in St. Michael's that night, (it being quite late,) but that I must be off back to Mr. Covey's early in the

morning; and that if I did not, he would ~get hold of me,~ which meant that he would whip me. I remained

all night, and, according to his or ders, I started off to Covey's in the morning, (Sat urday morning,)

wearied in body and broken in spirit. I got no supper that night, or breakfast that morning. I reached Covey's

about nine o'clock; and just as I was getting over the fence that divided Mrs. Kemp's fields from ours, out ran

Covey with his cowskin, to give me another whipping. Before he could reach me, I succeeded in getting to

the cornfield; and as the corn was very high, it afforded me the means of hiding. He seemed very angry, and

searched for me a long time. My behavior was al together unaccountable. He finally gave up the chase,

thinking, I suppose, that I must come home for something to eat; he would give himself no fur ther trouble

in looking for me. I spent that day mostly in the woods, having the alternative before me,to go home and

be whipped to death, or stay in the woods and be starved to death. That night, I fell in with Sandy Jenkins, a

slave with whom I was somewhat acquainted. Sandy had a free wife who lived about four miles from Mr.

Covey's; and it being Saturday, he was on his way to see her. I told him my circumstances, and he very kindly

in vited me to go home with him. I went home with him, and talked this whole matter over, and got his

advice as to what course it was best for me to pursue. 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 into another part of the

woods, where there was a certain ~root,~ which, if I would take some of it with me, carrying it ~always on

my right side,~ would render it impos sible for Mr. Covey, or any other white man, to whip 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 my pocket would have any such

effect as he had said, and was not disposed to take it; but Sandy impressed the necessity with much

earnestness, tell ing me it could do no harm, if it did no good. To please him, I at length took the root, and,

ac cording to his direction, carried it upon my right side. This was Sunday morning. I immediately started

for home; and upon entering the yard gate, out came Mr. Covey on his way to meeting. He spoke to me very

kindly, bade me drive the pigs from a lot near by, and passed on towards the church. Now, this singular

conduct of Mr. Covey really made me begin to think that there was some thing in the ROOT which Sandy

had given me; and had it been on any other day than Sunday, I could have attributed the conduct to no other

cause than the influence 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 went well till Monday morning. On this morning, the virtue of the

ROOT was fully 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 thus engaged, 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 half out of the loft, he caught hold of

my legs, and was about tying me. As soon as I found what he was up to, I gave a sudden spring, and as I did

so, 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 knowI

re solved to fight; and, suiting my action to the reso lution, I seized Covey hard by 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

all aback. He trembled like a leaf. This gave me assurance, and I held him uneasy, causing the blood to run

where I touched him with the ends of my fingers. 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 the act of doing so, I

watched my chance, and gave him a heavy kick close under the ribs. This kick fairly sickened Hughes, so that

he left me in the hands of Mr. Covey. This kick had the effect of not only weakening Hughes, but Covey also.

When he saw Hughes bending over with pain, his courage quailed. He asked me if I meant to persist in my

resistance. I told him I did, come what might; that he had used me like a brute for six months, and that I was

determined to be used so no longer. With that, he strove to drag me to a stick that was lying just out of the

stable door. He meant to knock me down. But just as he was leaning over to get the stick, I seized him with

both hands by his collar, and brought 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 could do. Covey said, "Take hold of him, take

hold of him!" Bill said his master hired him out to work, and not to help to whip me; so he left Covey and

myself to fight our own battle out. We were at it for nearly two hours. Covey at length let me go, puffing and

blowing at a great rate, saying that if I had not resisted, he would not have whipped me half so much. The

truth was, that he had not whipped me at all. I considered him as getting en tirely the worst end of the

bargain; for he had drawn no blood from me, but I had from him. The whole six months afterwards, that I

spent with Mr. Covey, he never laid the weight of his finger upon me in anger. He would occasionally say, he

didn't want to get hold of me again. "No," thought I, "you need not; for you will come off worse than you did

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 me a sense of my own manhood. It recalled the de parted

selfconfidence, and inspired me again with a determination to be free. The gratification af forded by the

triumph was a full compensation for whatever else might follow, even death itself. He only can understand

the deep satisfaction which I experienced, who has himself repelled by force the bloody arm of slavery. I felt

as I never felt before. It was a glorious resurrection, from the tomb of slavery, to the heaven of freedom. My

longcrushed spirit rose, cowardice departed, bold defiance took its place; and I now resolved that, however

long I might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could be a slave in fact. I did not

hesitate to let it be known of me, that the white man who expected to succeed in whipping, must also succeed

From this time I was never again what might be called fairly whipped, though I remained a slave four years

It was for a long time a matter of surprise to me why Mr. Covey did not immediately have me taken by the

constable to the whippingpost, and there regularly whipped for the crime of raising my hand against a white

man in defence of myself. And the only explanation I can now think of does not entirely satisfy me; but such

as it is, I will give it. Mr. Covey enjoyed the most unbounded reputation for being a firstrate overseer and

negrobreaker. It was of con siderable importance to him. That reputation was at stake; and had he sent

mea boy about sixteen years oldto the public whippingpost, his reputation would have been lost; so, to

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 as holi days; and, accordingly, we were not required to per form any

labor, more than to feed and take care of the stock. This time we regarded as our own, by the grace of our

masters; and we therefore used or abused it nearly as we pleased. Those of us who had families at a distance,

were generally allowed to spend the whole six days in their society. This time, however, was spent in various

ways. The staid, sober, thinking and industrious ones of our number would employ themselves in making

cornbrooms, mats, horsecollars, and baskets; and another class of us would spend the time in hunting

opossums, hares, and coons. But by far the larger part engaged in such sports and merriments as playing ball,

wres tling, running footraces, fiddling, dancing, and drinking whisky; and this latter mode of spending the

time was by far the most agreeable to the feel ings of our masters. A slave who would work during the

holidays was considered by our masters as scarcely deserving them. He was regarded as one who rejected the

favor of his master. It was deemed a disgrace not to get drunk at Christmas; and he was regarded as lazy

indeed, who had not provided himself with the necessary means, during the year, to get whisky enough to last

From what I know of the effect of these holidays upon the slave, I believe them to be among the most

effective means in the hands of the slaveholder in keeping down the spirit of insurrection. Were the

slaveholders at once to abandon this practice, I have not the slightest doubt it would lead to an immediate

insurrection among the slaves. These holidays serve as conductors, or safetyvalves, to carry off the

rebellious spirit of enslaved humanity. But for these, the slave would be forced up to the wild est

desperation; and woe betide the slaveholder, the day he ventures to remove or hinder the operation of those

conductors! I warn him that, in such an event, a spirit will go forth in their midst, more to be dreaded than the

The holidays are part and parcel of the gross fraud, wrong, and inhumanity of slavery. They are professedly a

custom established by the benevolence of the slaveholders; but I undertake to say, it is the result of

selfishness, and one of the grossest frauds committed upon the downtrodden slave. They do not give the

slaves this time because they would not like to have their work during its continuance, but because they know

it would be unsafe to deprive them of it. This will be seen by the fact, that the slaveholders like to have their

slaves spend those days just in such a manner as to make them as glad of their ending as of their beginning.

Their object seems to be, to disgust their slaves with freedom, by plunging them into the lowest depths of

dissipa tion. For instance, the slaveholders not only like to see the slave drink of his own accord, but will

adopt various plans to make him drunk. One plan is, to make bets on their slaves, as to who can drink the

most whisky without getting drunk; and in this way they succeed in getting whole multitudes to drink to

excess. Thus, when the slave asks for virtuous freedom, the cunning slaveholder, knowing his ig norance,

cheats him with a dose of vicious dissi pation, artfully labelled with the name of liberty. The most of us used

to drink it down, and the result was just what might be supposed; many of us were led to think that there was

little to choose between liberty and slavery. We felt, and very prop erly too, that we had almost as well be

slaves to man as to rum. So, when the holidays ended, we staggered up from the filth of our wallowing, took

a long breath, and marched to the field,feeling, upon the whole, rather glad to go, from what our master

I have said that this mode of treatment is a part of the whole system of fraud and inhumanity of slavery. It is

so. The mode here adopted to disgust the slave with freedom, by allowing him to see only the abuse of it, is

carried out in other things. For instance, a slave loves molasses; he steals some. His master, in many cases,

goes off to town, and buys a large quantity; he returns, takes his whip, and commands the slave to eat the

molasses, until the poor fellow is made sick at the very mention of it. The same mode is sometimes adopted

to make the slaves refrain from asking for more food than their regular allowance. A slave runs through his

allowance, and applies for more. His master is en raged at him; but, not willing to send him off with out

food, gives him more than is necessary, and com pels him to eat it within a given time. Then, if he

complains that he cannot eat it, he is said to be satisfied neither full nor fasting, and is whipped for being hard

to please! I have an abundance of such illustrations of the same principle, drawn from my own observation,

On the first of January, 1834, I left Mr. Covey, and went to live with Mr. William Freeland, who lived about

three miles from St. Michael's. I soon found Mr. Freeland a very different man from Mr. Covey. Though not

rich, he was what would be called an educated southern gentleman. Mr. Covey, as I have shown, was a

welltrained negrobreaker and slavedriver. The former (slaveholder though he was) seemed to possess

some regard for honor, some reverence for justice, and some respect for humanity. The latter seemed totally

insensible to all such sentiments. Mr. Freeland had many of the faults peculiar to slaveholders, such as being

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 con stantly addicted. The one was open and frank, and we always

knew where to find him. The other was a most artful deceiver, and could be understood only by such as were

skilful enough to detect his cun ninglydevised frauds. Another advantage I gained in my new master was,

he made no pretensions to, or profession of, religion; and this, in my opinion, was truly a great advantage. I

assert most unhesi tatingly, that the religion of the south is a mere covering for the most horrid crimes,a

justifier of the most appalling barbarity,a sanctifier of the most hateful frauds,and a dark shelter under,

which the darkest, foulest, grossest, and most infer nal deeds of slaveholders find the strongest protec tion.

Were I to be again reduced to the chains of slavery, next to that enslavement, I should regard being the slave

of a religious master the greatest calamity that could befall me. For of all slaveholders with whom I have ever

met, religious slaveholders are the worst. I have ever found them the meanest and basest, the most cruel and

cowardly, of all oth ers. It was my unhappy lot not only to belong to a religious slaveholder, but to live in a

community of such religionists. Very near Mr. Freeland lived the Rev. Daniel Weeden, and in the same

neighborhood lived the Rev. Rigby Hopkins. These were members and ministers in the Reformed Methodist

Church. Mr. Weeden owned, among others, a woman slave, whose name I have forgotten. This woman's

back, for weeks, was kept literally raw, made so by the lash of this merciless, ~religious~ wretch. He used to

hire hands. His maxim was, Behave well or behave ill, it is the duty of a master occasionally to whip a slave,

to remind him of his master's authority. Such was his theory, and such his practice.

Mr. Hopkins was even worse than Mr. Weeden. His chief boast was his ability to manage slaves. The

peculiar feature of his government was that of whipping slaves in advance of deserving it. He always

managed to have one or more of his slaves to whip every Monday morning. He did this to alarm their fears,

and strike terror into those who escaped. His plan was to whip for the smallest offences, to prevent the

commission of large ones. Mr. Hopkins could always find some excuse for whipping a slave. It would

astonish one, unaccustomed to a slave holding life, to see with what wonderful ease a slave holder can find

things, of which to make 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 be whipped at any time. Does a slave look

dissatisfied? It is said, he has the devil in him, and it must be whipped out. Does he speak loudly when

spoken to by his master? Then he is getting highminded, and should be taken down a buttonhole lower.

Does he forget to pull off his hat at the approach of a white person? Then he is wanting in reverence, and

should be whipped for it. Does he ever venture to vindicate his conduct, when censured for it? Then he is

guilty of impu dence,one of the greatest crimes of which a slave can be guilty. Does he ever venture to

suggest a different mode of doing things from that pointed out by his master? He is indeed presumptuous, and

getting above himself; and nothing less than a flog ging will do for him. Does he, while ploughing, break a

plough,or, while hoeing, break a hoe? It is owing to his carelessness, and for it a slave must always be

whipped. Mr. Hopkins could 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 man in the whole county, with whom the slaves who

had the getting their own home, 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 professions of religion, or was more active in

revivals,more attentive to the class, lovefeast, prayer and preach ing meetings, or more devotional in his

family, that prayed earlier, later, louder, and longer,than this same reverend slavedriver, Rigby

But to return to Mr. Freeland, and to my experi ence while in his employment. 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 us hard,

but always between sunrise and sunset. He required a good deal of work to be done, but gave us good tools

with which to work. His farm was large, but he employed hands enough to work it, and with ease, compared

with many of his neighbors. My treatment, while in his employ ment, was heavenly, compared with what I

Mr. Freeland was himself the owner of but two slaves. Their names were Henry Harris and John Harris. The

rest of his hands he hired. These con sisted of myself, Sandy Jenkins,* and Handy Cald well. Henry and

John were quite intelligent, and in a very little while after I went there, I succeeded in creating in them a

strong desire to learn how to read. This desire soon sprang up in the others also. They very soon mustered up

some old spellingbooks, and nothing would do but that I must keep a Sab bath school. I agreed to do so,

and accordingly devoted my Sundays to teaching these my loved fel lowslaves how to read. Neither of

them knew his letters when I went there. Some of the slaves of the neighboring farms found what was going

on, and also availed themselves of this little opportunity to learn to read. It was understood, among all who

came, that there must be as little display about it as possible. It was necessary to keep our religious masters at

St. Michael's unacquainted with the fact, that, instead of spending the Sabbath in wrestling, boxing, and

drinking whisky, we were trying to learn how to read the will of God; for they had much

*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. rather see us engaged in those

degrading sports, than to see us behaving like intellectual, moral, and ac countable beings. My blood boils

as I think of the bloody manner in which Messrs. Wright Fairbanks and Garrison West, both classleaders, in

connection with many others, rushed in upon us with sticks and stones, and broke up our virtuous little Sab

bath school, at St. Michael'sall calling themselves Christians! humble followers of the Lord Jesus Christ!

I held my Sabbath school at the house of a free colored man, whose name I deem it imprudent to mention; for

should it be known, it might embar rass him greatly, though the crime of holding the school was committed

ten years ago. I had at one time over forty scholars, and those of the right sort, ardently desiring to learn.

They were of all ages, though mostly men and women. I look back to those Sundays with an amount of

pleasure not to be ex pressed. They were great days to my soul. The work of instructing my dear

fellowslaves was the sweetest engagement with which I was ever blessed. We loved each other, and to leave

them at the close of the Sabbath was a severe cross indeed. When I think that these precious souls are today

shut up in the prisonhouse of 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 the thunders in his right hand, if not to smite

the oppressor, and deliver the spoiled out of the hand of the spoiler?" These dear souls came not to Sab bath

school because it was popular to do so, nor did I teach them because it was reputable to be thus engaged.

Every moment they spent in that school, they were liable to be taken up, and given thirty nine lashes. They

came because they wished to learn. Their minds had been starved by their cruel masters. They had been shut

up in mental darkness. I taught them, because it was the delight of my soul to be doing something that looked

like better ing the condition of my race. I kept up my school nearly the whole year I lived with Mr.

Freeland; and, beside my Sabbath school, I devoted three eve nings in the week, during the winter, to

teaching the slaves at home. And I have the happiness to know, that several of those who came to Sabbath

school learned how to read; and that one, at least, is now free through my agency.

The year passed off smoothly. It seemed only about half as long as the year which preceded it. I went through

it without receiving a single blow. I will give Mr. Freeland the credit of being the best master I ever had, ~till

I became my own mas ter.~ For the ease with which I passed the year, I was, however, somewhat indebted

to the society of my fellowslaves. They were noble souls; they not only possessed loving hearts, but brave

ones. We were linked and interlinked with each other. I loved them with a love stronger than any thing I have

experienced since. It is sometimes said that we slaves do not love and confide in each other. In answer to this

assertion, I can say, I never loved any or confided in any people more than my fellow slaves, and especially

those with whom I lived at Mr. Freeland's. I believe we would have died for each other. We never undertook

to do any thing, of any importance, without a mutual consultation. We never moved separately. We were one;

and as much so by our tempers and dispositions, as by the mutual hardships to which we were necessarily

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 ~upon free land~ as well as ~with freeland;~ and I was no longer con tent, therefore,

to live with him or any other slave holder. I began, with the commencement of the year, to prepare myself

for a final struggle, which should decide my fate one way or the other. My tendency was upward. I was fast

approaching man hood, and year after year had passed, and I was still a slave. These thoughts roused meI

must do something. I therefore resolved that 1835 should not pass without witnessing an attempt, on my part,

to secure my liberty. But I was not willing to cherish this determination alone. My fellowslaves were dear to

me. I was anxious to have them participate with me in this, my lifegiving determination. I therefore, though

with great prudence, commenced early to ascertain their views and feelings in regard to their condition, and

to imbue their minds with thoughts of freedom. I bent myself to devising ways and means for our escape, and

meanwhile strove, on all fitting occasions, to impress them with the gross fraud and inhumanity of slavery. I

went first to Henry, next to John, then to the others. I found, in them all, warm hearts and noble spirits. They

were ready to hear, and ready to act when a feasible plan should be proposed. This was what I wanted. I

talked to them of our want of manhood, if we submitted to our enslavement without at least one noble effort

to be free. We met often, and consulted frequently, and told our hopes and fears, recounted the difficulties,

real and imagined, which we should be called on to meet. At times we were almost dis posed to give up, and

try to content ourselves with our wretched lot; at others, we were firm and un bending in our determination

to go. Whenever we suggested any plan, there was shrinkingthe odds were fearful. Our path was beset with

the greatest obstacles; and if we succeeded in gaining the end of it, our right to be free was yet

questionablewe 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 extend farther

than New York; and to go there, and be forever harassed with the frightful liability of being returned to

slaverywith the certainty of being treated tenfold worse than beforethe thought was truly a horrible one,

and one which it was not easy to overcome. The case sometimes stood thus: At every gate through which we

were to pass, we saw a watchman at every ferry a guardon every bridge a sentinel and in every wood

a patrol. We were hemmed in upon every side. Here were the difficulties, real or imaginedthe good to be

sought, and the evil to be shunned. On the one hand, there stood slavery, a stern reality, glaring frightfully

upon us,its robes already crimsoned with the blood of millions, and even now feasting itself greedily upon

our own flesh. On the other hand, away back in the dim distance, under the flickering light of the north star,

behind some craggy hill or snowcovered mountain, stood a doubtful freedomhalf frozenbeckoning us

to come and share its hospitality. This in itself was sometimes enough to stagger us; but when we per mitted

ourselves to survey the road, we were fre quently appalled. Upon either side we saw grim death, assuming

the most horrid shapes. Now it was starvation, causing us to eat our own flesh;now we were contending

with the waves, and were drowned; now we were overtaken, and torn to pieces by the fangs of the terrible

bloodhound. We were stung by scorpions, chased by wild beasts, bitten by snakes, and finally, after having

nearly reached the desired spot,after swimming rivers, encountering wild beasts, sleeping in the woods,

suffering hunger and nakedness,we were overtaken by our pursuers, and, in our resistance, we were shot

In coming to a fixed determination to run away, we did more than Patrick Henry, when he resolved upon

liberty or death. With us it was a doubtful liberty at most, and almost certain death if we failed. For my part, I

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 belonged to

my master. Charles married my aunt: he belonged to my master's fatherinlaw, Mr. William Hamilton.

The plan we finally concluded upon was, to get a large canoe belonging to Mr. Hamilton, and upon the

Saturday night previous to Easter holidays, paddle directly up the Chesapeake Bay. On our ar rival at the

head of the bay, a distance of seventy or eighty miles from where we lived, it was our purpose to turn our

canoe adrift, and follow the guidance 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 to be suspected as runaways; we hoped to be regarded

as fishermen; whereas, if we should take the land route, we should be subjected to interruptions of almost

every kind. Any one having a white face, and being so disposed, could stop us, and subject us to examination.

The week before our intended start, I wrote sev eral protections, one for each of us. As well as I can

"This is to certify that I, the undersigned, have given the bearer, my servant, full liberty to go to Baltimore,

We were not going to Baltimore; but, in going up the bay, we went toward Baltimore, and these pro tections

As the time drew near for our departure, our anxiety became more and more intense. It was truly a matter of

life and death with us. The strength of our determination was about to be fully tested. At this time, I was very

active in explaining every dif ficulty, removing every doubt, dispelling every fear, and inspiring all with the

firmness indispensable to success in our undertaking; assuring them that half was gained the instant we made

the move; we had talked long enough; we were now ready to move; if not now, we never should be; and if we

did not intend to move now, we had as well fold our arms, sit down, and acknowledge ourselves fit only to be

slaves. This, none of us were prepared to acknowl edge. Every man stood firm; and at our last meeting, we

pledged ourselves afresh, in the most solemn manner, that, at the time appointed, we would cer tainly start

in pursuit of freedom. This was in the middle of the week, at the end of which we were to be off. We went, as

usual, to our several fields of labor, but with bosoms highly agitated with thoughts of our truly hazardous

undertaking. We tried to conceal our feelings as much as possible; and I think we succeeded very well.

After a painful waiting, the Saturday morning, whose night was to witness our departure, came. I hailed it

with joy, bring what of sadness it might. Friday night was a sleepless one for me. I probably felt more

anxious than the rest, because I was, by common consent, at the head of the whole affair. The responsibility

of success or failure lay heavily upon me. The glory of the one, and the confusion of the other, were alike

mine. The first two hours of that morning were such as I never experienced before, and hope never to again.

Early in the morning, we went, as usual, to the field. We were spreading manure; and all at once, while thus

en gaged, I was overwhelmed with an indescribable feel ing, in the fulness of which I turned to Sandy,

who was near by, and said, "We are betrayed!" "Well," said he, "that thought has this moment struck me."

The horn was blown as usual, and we went up from the field to the house for breakfast. I went for the form,

more than for want of any thing to eat that morning. Just as I got to the house, in looking out at the lane gate,

I saw four white men, with two colored men. The white men were on horseback, and the colored ones were

walking behind, as if tied. I watched them a few moments till they got up to our lane gate. Here they halted,

and tied the colored men to the gatepost. I was not yet certain as to what the matter was. In a few moments,

in rode Mr. Hamilton, with a speed betokening great excite ment. He came to the door, and inquired if

Master William was in. He was told he was at the barn. Mr. Hamilton, without dismounting, rode up to the

barn with extraordinary speed. In a few moments, he and Mr. Freeland returned to the house. By this time,

the three constables rode up, and in great haste dis mounted, tied their horses, and met Master William and

Mr. Hamilton returning from the barn; and after talking awhile, they all walked up to the kitchen door. There

was no one in the kitchen but myself and John. Henry and Sandy were up at the barn. Mr. Freeland put his

head in at the door, and called me by name, saying, there were some gentle men at the door who wished to

see me. I stepped to the door, and inquired what they wanted. They at once seized me, and, without giving me

any satis faction, tied melashing my 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

In a few moments, they succeeded in tying John. They then turned to Henry, who had by this time returned,

and commanded him to cross his hands. "I won't!" said Henry, in a firm tone, indicating his readiness to 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. With this, 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 to Henry, saying, at the same time, if he did not cross his hands, they would 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 be tied!~" This he said in a tone of loud defi ance; and at the same time, with a motion as

quick as lightning, he with one single stroke dashed the pistols from the hand of each constable. As he did

this, all hands fell upon him, and, after beating him some time, they finally overpowered him, and got him

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 of

William Freeland, came to the door with her hands full of biscuits, and divided them between Henry and

John. She then delivered herself of a speech, to the following effect:addressing herself to me, she said,

"~You devil! You yellow devil!~ it was you that put it into the heads of Henry and John to run away. But for

you, you longlegged mulatto devil! Henry nor John would never have thought of such a thing." I made no

reply, and was imme diately hurried off towards St. Michael's. Just a mo ment previous to the scuffle with

Henry, Mr. Hamil ton suggested the propriety of making a search for the protections which he had

understood Frederick had written for himself and the rest. But, just at the moment he was about carrying his

proposal into effect, his aid was needed in helping to tie Henry; and the excitement attending the scuffle

caused them either to forget, or to deem it unsafe, under the circumstances, to search. So we were not yet

When we got about half way to St. Michael's, while the constables having us in charge were look ing ahead,

Henry inquired of me what he should do with 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 resolved to succeed or fail together, after the calamity had befallen us as

much as before. We were now prepared for any thing. We were to be dragged that morning fifteen miles

behind horses, and then to be placed in the Easton jail. When we reached St. Michael's, we underwent a sort

of exami nation. We all denied that we ever intended to run away. We did this more to bring out the

evidence against us, than from any hope of getting clear of being sold; for, as I have said, we were ready for

that. The fact was, we cared but little where we went, so we went together. Our greatest concern was about

separation. We dreaded that more than any thing this side of death. We found the evidence against us to be

the testimony of one person; our master would not tell who it was; but we came to a unanimous decision

among ourselves as to who their informant was. We were sent off to the jail at Easton. When we got there, we

were delivered up to the sheriff, Mr. Joseph Graham, and by him placed in jail. Henry, John, and myself,

were placed in one room togetherCharles, and Henry Bailey, in another. Their object in separating us was

We had been in jail scarcely twenty minutes, when a swarm of slave traders, and agents for slave traders,

flocked into jail to look at us, and to as certain if we were for sale. Such a set of beings I never saw before! I

felt myself surrounded by so many fiends from perdition. A band of pirates never looked more like their

father, the devil. They laughed 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 one went 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 our masters. We

would make them no answer, and leave them to find out as best they could. Then they would curse and swear

at us, telling us that they could take the devil out of us in a very little while, if we were only in their hands.

While in jail, we found ourselves in much more comfortable quarters than we expected when we went there.

We did not get much to eat, nor that which was very good; but we had a good clean room, from the windows

of which we could see what was go ing on in the street, which was very much better 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 its

keeper were concerned. Immediately after the holidays were over, contrary to all our expectations, Mr.

Hamilton and Mr. Free land came up to Easton, and took Charles, the two Henrys, and John, out of jail, and

carried them home, leaving me alone. I regarded this separation as a final one. It caused me more pain than

any thing else in the whole transaction. I was ready for any thing rather than separation. I supposed that they

had consulted together, and had decided that, as I was the whole cause of the intention of the others to run

away, it was hard to make the innocent suffer with the guilty; and that they had, therefore, concluded to take

the others home, and sell me, as a warning to the others that remained. It is due to the noble Henry to say, he

seemed almost as reluctant at leaving the prison as at leaving home to 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, he concluded to go

I was now left to my fate. I was all alone, and within the walls of a stone prison. But a few days before, and I

was full of hope. I expected to have been safe in a land of freedom; but now I was cov ered with gloom,

sunk down to the utmost despair. I thought the possibility of freedom was gone. I was kept in this way about

one week, at the end of which, Captain Auld, my master, to my surprise and utter astonishment, came up, and

took me out, with the intention of sending me, with a gentleman of his acquaintance, into Alabama. But, from

some cause or other, he did not send me to Alabama, but concluded to send me back to Baltimore, to live

Thus, after an absence of three years and one month, I was once more permitted to return to my old home at

Baltimore. My master sent me away, because there existed against me a very great preju dice in the

In a few weeks after I went to Baltimore, Master Hugh hired me to Mr. William Gardner, an ex tensive

shipbuilder, on Fell's Point. I was put there to learn how to calk. It, however, proved a very unfavorable

place for the accomplishment of this object. Mr. Gardner was engaged that spring in building two large

manofwar brigs, professedly for the Mexican government. The vessels were to be launched in the July of

that year, and in failure thereof, Mr. Gardner was to lose a considerable sum; so that when I entered, all was

hurry. There was no time to learn any thing. Every man had to do that which he knew how to do. In entering

the ship yard, my orders from Mr. Gardner were, to do what ever the carpenters commanded me to do.

This was placing me at the beck and call of about seventyfive men. I was to regard all these as masters.

Their word was to be my law. My situation was a most trying one. At times I needed a dozen pair of hands. I

was called a dozen ways in the space of a single minute. Three or four voices would strike my ear at the same

moment. It was"Fred., come help me to cant this timber here.""Fred., come carry this timber

yonder.""Fred., bring that roller here." "Fred., go get a fresh can of water.""Fred., come help saw off

the end of this timber.""Fred., go quick, and get the crowbar.""Fred., hold on the end of this

fall.""Fred., go to the blacksmith's shop, and get a new punch.""Hurra, Fred.! run and bring me a cold

chisel.""I say, Fred., bear a hand, and get up a fire as quick as lightning under that steambox.""Halloo,

nigger! come, turn this grindstone.""Come, come! move, move! and BOWSE this timber forward.""I

say, darky, blast your eyes, why don't you heat up some pitch?""Halloo! halloo! halloo!" (Three voices at

the same time.) "Come here!Go there!Hold on where you are! Damn you, if you move, I'll knock your

This was my school for eight months; and I might have remained there longer, but for a most horrid fight I

had with four of the white apprentices, in which my left eye was nearly knocked out, and I was horribly

mangled in other respects. The facts in the case were these: Until a very little while after I went there, white

and black shipcarpenters worked side by side, and no one seemed to see any impropriety in it. All hands

seemed to be very well satisfied. Many of the black carpenters were freemen. Things seemed to be going on

very well. All at once, the white carpenters knocked off, and said they would not work with free colored

workmen. Their reason for this, as alleged, was, that if free colored carpenters were encouraged, they would

soon take the trade into their own hands, and poor white men would be thrown out of employment. They

therefore felt called upon at once to put a stop to it. And, taking advantage of Mr. Gardner's necessities, they

broke off, swearing they would work no longer, unless he would discharge his black carpenters. Now, though

this did not extend to me in form, it did reach me in fact. My fellowapprentices very soon began to feel it

degrading to them to work with me. They began to put on airs, and talk about the "niggers" taking the

country, saying we all ought to be killed; and, being encouraged by the journey men, they commenced

making my condition as hard as they could, by hectoring me around, and sometimes striking me. I, of course,

kept the vow I made after the fight with Mr. Covey, and struck back again, regardless of consequences; and

while I kept them from combining, I succeeded very well; for I could whip the whole of them, taking them

separately. They, however, at length combined, and came upon me, armed with sticks, stones, and heavy

handspikes. One came in front with a half brick. There was one at each side 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 hand spike, and struck

me a heavy blow upon the head. It stunned me. I fell, and with this they all ran upon me, and fell to beating

me with their fists. I let them lay on for a while, gathering strength. In an instant, I gave a sudden surge, and

rose to my hands and knees. Just as I did that, one of their number 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 badly swollen, they

left me. With this I seized the hand spike, and for a time pursued them. But here the carpenters interfered,

and I thought I might as well give it up. It was impossible to stand my hand against so many. All this took

place in sight of not less than fifty white shipcarpenters, 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 getting away without an additional blow, and barely so; for to strike a white man

is death by Lynch law,and that was the law in Mr. Gardner's shipyard; nor is there much of any other out

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 conduct was heavenly, compared with that of his brother Thomas under similar

circumstances. He listened attentively to my narration of the circumstances leading to the savage outrage, and

gave many proofs of his strong indigna tion at it. The heart of my once overkind mistress was again melted

into pity. My puffedout eye and bloodcovered face moved her 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 wounded eye with a

lean piece of fresh beef. It was almost compensation for my suffering to witness, once more, a manifestation

of kindness from this, my once affectionate old mistress. Master Hugh was very much enraged. He gave

expression to his feelings by pouring out curses upon the heads of those who did the deed. As soon as I got a

little the better of my bruises, he took me with him to Esquire Watson's, on Bond Street, to see what could be

done about the matter. Mr. Watson inquired who saw the assault committed. Master Hugh told him it was

done in Mr. Gardner's shipyard 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 as to who did it." His answer was, he could do

nothing in the case, unless some white man would come forward and testify. He could issue no warrant on

my word. If I had been killed in the presence of a thousand colored people, their testimony combined would

have been insufficient to have arrested one of the murderers. Master Hugh, for once, was compelled to say

this state of things was too bad. Of course, it was impossible to get any white man to volunteer his testimony

in my behalf, and against the white young men. Even those who may have sympathized with me were not

prepared to do this. It required a degree of courage unknown to them to do so; for just at that time, the

slightest manifestation of humanity toward a colored person was denounced as abolitionism, and that name

sub jected its bearer to frightful liabilities. The watch words of the bloodyminded in that region, and in

those days, were, "Damn the abolitionists!" and "Damn the niggers!" There was nothing done, and probably

nothing would have been done if I had been killed. Such was, and such remains, the state of things in the

Master Hugh, finding he could get no redress, re fused to let me go back again to Mr. Gardner. He kept me

himself, and his wife dressed my wound till I was again restored to health. He then took me into the

shipyard of which he was foreman, in the employment of Mr. Walter Price. There I was im mediately set

to calking, and very soon learned the art of using my 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 most experienced calkers. I was

now of some impor tance to my master. I was bringing him from six to seven dollars per week. I sometimes

brought him nine dollars per week: my wages were a dollar and a half a day. After learning how to calk, I

sought my own employment, made my own contracts, and collected the money which I earned. My pathway

became much more smooth than before; my condi tion was now much more comfortable. When I could get

no calking to do, I did nothing. During these leisure times, those old notions about freedom would steal over

me again. When in Mr. Gardner's employ ment, I was kept in such a perpetual whirl of ex citement, I could

think of nothing, scarcely, but my life; and in thinking of my life, I almost forgot my liberty. I have observed

this in my experience of slavery,that whenever my condition was im proved, instead of its increasing my

contentment, it only increased my desire to be free, and set me to thinking of plans to gain my freedom. I

have found that, to make a contented slave, it is necessary to make a thoughtless one. It is necessary to darken

his moral and mental vision, and, as far as possible, to annihilate the power of reason. He must be able to

detect no inconsistencies in slavery; he must be made to feel that slavery is right; and he can be brought to

I was now getting, as I have said, one dollar and fifty cents per day. I contracted for it; I earned it; it was paid

to me; it was rightfully my own; yet, upon each returning Saturday night, I was compelled to deliver every

cent of that money to Master Hugh. And why? Not because he earned it,not because he had any hand in

earning it,not because I owed it to him,nor because he possessed the slightest shadow of a right to it; but

solely because he had the power to compel me to give it up. The right of the grimvisaged pirate upon the

I now come to that part of my life during which I planned, and finally succeeded in making, my escape from

slavery. But before narrating any of the pe culiar circumstances, I deem it proper to make known my

intention not to state all the facts con nected with the transaction. My reasons for pursuing this course may

be understood from the following: First, were I to give a minute statement of all the facts, it is not only

possible, but quite probable, that others would thereby be involved in the most embar rassing difficulties.

Secondly, such a statement would most undoubtedly induce greater vigilance on the part of slaveholders than

has existed heretofore among them; which would, of course, be the means of guarding a door whereby some

dear brother bond man might escape his galling chains. I deeply regret the necessity that impels me to

suppress any thing of importance connected with my experience in slavery. It would afford me great pleasure

indeed, as well as materially add to the interest of my nar rative, were I at liberty to gratify a curiosity,

which I know exists in the minds of many, by an accurate statement of all the facts pertaining to my most

fortunate escape. But I must deprive myself of this pleasure, and the curious of the gratification which such a

statement would afford. I would allow my self to suffer under the greatest imputations which evilminded

men might suggest, rather than excul pate myself, and thereby run the hazard of closing the slightest avenue

by which a brother slave might clear himself of the chains and fetters of slavery.

I have never approved of the very public manner in which some of our western friends have conducted what

they call the ~underground railroad,~ but which I think, by their open declarations, has been made most

emphatically the ~upperground railroad.~ I honor those good men and women for their noble daring, and

applaud them for willingly subjecting them selves to bloody persecution, by openly avowing their

participation in the escape of slaves. I, however, can see very little good resulting from such a course, either

to themselves or the slaves escaping; while, upon the other hand, I see and feel assured that those open

declarations are a positive evil to the slaves remaining, who are seeking to escape. They do nothing towards

enlightening the slave, whilst they do much towards enlightening the master. They stimulate him to greater

watchfulness, and enhance his power to capture his slave. We owe something to the slave south of the line as

well as to those north of it; and in aiding the latter on their way to freedom, we should be careful to do

nothing which would be likely to hinder the former from escaping from slavery. I would keep the merciless

slaveholder profoundly ignorant of the means of flight adopted by the slave. I would leave him to imagine

himself surrounded by myriads of invisible tormentors, ever ready to snatch from his infernal grasp his

trembling prey. Let him be left to feel his way in the dark; let darkness commensurate with his crime 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 of having his hot brains dashed out by an invisible agency. Let us render the tyrant no aid; let us

not hold the light by which he can trace the footprints of our flying brother. But enough of this. I will now

proceed to the statement of those facts, connected with my escape, for which I am alone responsible, and for

In the early part of the year 1838, I became quite restless. I could see no reason why I should, at the end of

each week, pour the reward of my toil into the purse of my master. When I carried to him my weekly wages,

he would, after counting the money, look me in the face with a robberlike fierceness, and ask, "Is this all?"

He was satisfied with nothing less than the last cent. He would, however, when I made him six dollars,

sometimes give me six cents, to encourage me. It had the opposite effect. I re garded it as a sort of

admission of my right to the whole. The fact that he gave me any part of my wages was proof, to my mind,

that he believed me entitled to the whole of them. I always felt worse for having received any thing; for I

feared that the giving me a few cents would ease his conscience, and make him feel himself to be a pretty

honorable sort of robber. My discontent grew upon me. I was ever on the lookout for means of escape; and,

find ing no direct means, I determined to try to hire my time, with a view of getting money with which to

make my escape. In the spring of 1838, when Master Thomas came to Baltimore to purchase his spring

goods, I got an opportunity, and applied to him to allow me to hire my time. He unhesitatingly refused my

request, and told me this was another stratagem by which to escape. He told me I could go nowhere but that

he could get me; and that, in the event of my running away, he should spare no pains in his efforts to catch

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, if I behaved myself properly, he would take care of me. Indeed, he advised me

to complete thoughtlessness of the future, and taught me to de pend solely upon him for happiness. He

seemed to see fully the pressing necessity of setting aside my intellectual nature, in order to contentment in

slavery. But in spite of him, and even in spite of myself, I continued to think, and to think about the injustice

About two months after this, I applied to Master Hugh for the privilege of hiring my time. He was not

acquainted with the fact that I had applied to Master Thomas, and had been refused. He too, at first, seemed

disposed to refuse; but, after some re flection, he granted me the privilege, and proposed the following

terms: I was to be allowed all my time, make all contracts with those for whom I worked, and find my own

employment; and, in re turn for this liberty, I was to pay him three dollars at the end of each week; find

myself in calking tools, and in board and clothing. My board was two dol lars and a half per week. This,

with the wear and tear of clothing and calking tools, made my regular expenses about six dollars per week.

This amount I was compelled to make up, or relinquish the privilege of hiring my time. Rain or shine, work

or no work, at the end of each week the money must be forthcoming, or I must give up my privilege. This

arrangement, it will be perceived, was decidedly in my master's favor. It relieved him of all need of looking

after me. His money was sure. He received all the benefits of slaveholding without its evils; while I endured

all the evils of a slave, and suffered all the care and anxiety of a freeman. I found it a hard bargain. But, hard

as it was, I thought it better than the old mode of getting along. It was a step towards freedom to be allowed

to bear the respon sibilities of a freeman, and I was determined to hold on upon it. I bent myself to the work

of making money. I was ready to work at night as well as day, and by the most untiring perseverance and

industry, I made enough to meet my expenses, and lay up a little money every week. I went on thus from

May till August. Master Hugh then refused to allow me to hire my time longer. The ground for his refusal

was a failure on my part, one Saturday night, to pay him for my week's time. This failure was occasioned by

my attending a camp meeting about ten miles from Baltimore. During the week, I had entered into an

engagement with a number of young friends to start from Baltimore to the camp ground early Saturday

evening; and being detained by my em ployer, I was unable to get down to Master Hugh's without

disappointing the company. I knew that Master Hugh was in no special need of the money that night. I

therefore decided to go to camp meet ing, and upon my return pay him the three dollars. I staid at the camp

meeting one day longer than I intended when I left. But as soon as I returned, I called upon 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 give me a severe whipping. He wished to know how I dared go out of the city without asking his

permission. I told him I hired my time and while I paid him the price which he asked for it, I did not know

that I was bound 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 should hire my time no longer; that the next thing he should know of, I

would be running away. Upon the same plea, he told me to bring my tools and clothing home forthwith. I did

so; but instead of seeking work, as I had been accustomed to do previously to hiring my time, I spent the

whole week without the performance of a single stroke of work. I did this in retaliation. Saturday night, he

called upon me as usual for my week's wages. I told him I had no wages; I had done no work that week. Here

we were upon the point of coming to blows. He raved, and swore his determination 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 should be blow

for blow. He did not strike me, but told me that he would find me in constant employment in future. I thought

the matter over during the next day, Sunday, and finally resolved upon the third day of September, as the day

upon which I would make a second attempt to secure my freedom. I now had three weeks during which to

prepare for my journey. Early on Monday morning, before Master Hugh had time to make any engagement

for me, I went out and got employment of Mr. Butler, at his shipyard near the drawbridge, upon what is

called the City Block, thus making it unnecessary for him to seek employment for me. At the end of the

week, I brought him between eight and nine dollars. He seemed very 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 to

remove any suspicion he might entertain of my intent to run away; and in this I succeeded admi rably. I

suppose he thought I was never better satisfied with my condition than at the very time during which I was

planning my escape. The second week passed, and again I carried him my full wages; and so well pleased

was he, that he gave me twenty five cents, (quite a large sum for a slaveholder to give a slave,) and bade me

Things went on without very smoothly indeed, but within there was trouble. It is impossible for me to

describe my feelings as the time of my con templated start drew near. I had a number of warm hearted

friends in Baltimore,friends that I loved almost as I did my life,and the thought of being separated from

them forever was painful beyond expression. It is my opinion that thousands would escape from slavery, who

now remain, but for the strong cords of affection that bind them to their friends. The thought of leaving my

friends was de cidedly the most painful thought with which I had to contend. The love of them was my

tender point, and shook my decision more than all things else. Besides the pain of separation, the dread and

appre hension of a failure exceeded what I had experienced at my first attempt. The appalling defeat I then

sustained returned to torment me. I felt assured that, if I failed in this attempt, my case would be a hopeless

oneit would seal my fate as a slave for ever. I could not hope to get off with any thing less than the

severest punishment, and being placed beyond the means of escape. It required no very vivid imagination to

depict the most frightful scenes through which I should have to pass, in case I failed. The wretchedness of

slavery, and the blessedness of freedom, were perpetually before me. It was life and death with me. But I

remained firm, and, according to my resolution, on the third day of September, 1838, I left my chains, and

suc ceeded in reaching New York without the slightest interruption of any kind. How I did so,what

means I adopted,what direction I travelled, and by what mode of conveyance,I must leave unexplained,

I have been frequently asked how I felt when I found myself in a free State. I have never been able to answer

the question with any satisfaction to my self. It was a moment of the highest excitement I ever experienced.

I suppose I felt as one may imagine the unarmed mariner to feel when he is rescued by a friendly

manofwar from the pursuit of a pirate. In writing to a dear friend, immediately after my arrival at New

York, I said I felt like one who had escaped a den of hungry lions. This state of mind, however, very soon

subsided; and I was again seized with a feeling of great insecurity and loneliness. I was yet liable to be taken

back, and subjected to all the tortures of slavery. This in itself was enough to damp the ardor of my

enthusiasm. But the lone liness overcame me. There I was in the midst of thousands, and yet a perfect

stranger; without home and without friends, in the midst of thousands of my own brethrenchildren of a

common Father, and yet I dared not to unfold to any one of them my sad condition. I was afraid to speak to

any one for fear of speaking to the wrong one, and thereby fall ing into the hands of moneyloving

kidnappers, whose business it was to lie in wait for the panting fugitive, as the ferocious beasts of the forest

lie in wait for their prey. The motto which I adopted when I started from slavery was this"Trust no man!" I

saw in every white man an enemy, and in almost every colored man cause for distrust. It was a most painful

situation; and, to understand it, one must needs experience it, or imagine himself in similar circumstances.

Let him be a fugitive slave in a strange landa land given up to be the hunting ground for

slaveholderswhose inhabitants are legal ized kidnapperswhere he is every moment sub jected to the

terrible liability of being seized upon by his fellowmen, as the hideous crocodile seizes upon his prey!I

say, let him place himself in my situationwithout home or friendswithout money or creditwanting

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 is pursued by merci less menhunters, and in total darkness as to what to do, where to go, or where

to stay,perfectly help less both as to the means of defence and means of escape,in the midst of plenty,

yet suffering the ter rible gnawings of hunger,in the midst of houses, yet having no home,among

fellowmen, yet feeling as if in the midst of wild beasts, whose greediness to swallow up the trembling and

halffamished fugi tive is only equalled by that with which the monsters of the deep swallow up the

helpless fish upon which they subsist,I say, let him be placed in this most trying situation,the situation

in which I was placed, then, and not till then, will he fully appreciate the hardships of, and know how to

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, whose vigi lance, kindness, and perseverance, I shall never for get. I am

glad of an opportunity to express, as far as words can, the love and gratitude I bear him. Mr. Ruggles is now

afflicted with blindness, and is him self in need of the same kind offices which he was once so forward in

the performance of toward others. I had been in New York but a few days, when Mr. Ruggles sought me out,

and very kindly took me to his boardinghouse at the corner of Church and Lespenard Streets. Mr. Ruggles

was then very deeply engaged in the memorable ~Darg~ case, as well as at tending to a number of other

fugitive slaves, devis ing ways and means for their successful escape; and, though watched and hemmed in

Very soon after I went to Mr. Ruggles, he wished to know of me where I wanted to go; as he deemed it

unsafe for me to remain in New York. I told him I was a calker, and should like to go where I could get work.

I thought of going to Canada; but he de cided against it, and in favor of my going to New Bedford, thinking

I should be able to get work there at my trade. At this time, Anna,* my intended wife, came on; for I wrote to

her immediately after my arrival at New York, (notwithstanding my homeless, houseless, and helpless

condition,) informing her of my successful flight, and wishing her to come on forthwith. In a few days after

her arrival, Mr. Rug gles called in the Rev. J. W. C. Pennington, who, in the presence of Mr. Ruggles, Mrs.

Michaels, and two or three others, performed the marriage cere mony, and gave us a certificate, of which the

Upon receiving this certificate, and a fivedollar bill from Mr. Ruggles, I shouldered one part of our baggage,

and Anna took up the other, and we set out forthwith to take passage on board of the steam boat 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 case my money did not serve me to New Bedford, to stop in Newport and obtain

arrival at Newport, we were so anxious to get to a place of safety, that, notwithstanding we lacked the

necessary 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 do this by two excellent gentlemen, residents of New Bedford, whose

names I afterward ascertained to be Joseph Ricketson and William C. Taber. They seemed at once to

understand our circumstances, and gave us such assurance of their friendliness as put us fully at ease in their

presence. It was good indeed to meet with such friends, at such a time. Upon reaching New Bedford, we were

directed to the house of Mr. Nathan Johnson, by whom we were kindly received, and hospitably provided for.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Johnson took a deep and lively interest in our wel fare. They proved themselves quite

worthy of the name of abolitionists. When the stagedriver found us unable to pay our fare, he held on upon

our bag gage as security for the debt. I had but to mention the fact to Mr. Johnson, and he forthwith

We now began to feel a degree of safety, and to prepare ourselves for the duties and responsibilities of a life

of freedom. On the morning after our ar rival at New Bedford, while at the breakfasttable, the question

arose as to what name I should be called by. The name given me by my mother was, "Frederick Augustus

Washington Bailey." I, how ever, had dispensed with the two middle names long before I left Maryland so

that I was generally known by the name of "Frederick Bailey." I started from Baltimore bearing the name of

"Stanley." When I got to New York, I again changed my name to "Fred erick Johnson," and thought that

would be the last change. But when I got to New Bedford, I found it necessary again to change my name. The

reason of this necessity was, that there were so many Johnsons in New Bedford, it was already quite difficult

to distinguish between them. I gave Mr. Johnson the privilege of choosing 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 once suggested that my name be "Douglass."

From that time until now I have been called "Frederick Douglass;" and as I am more widely known by that

I was quite disappointed at the general appear ance of things in New Bedford. The impression which I had

received respecting the character and condition of the people of the north, I found to be singularly erroneous.

I had very strangely supposed, while in slavery, that few of the comforts, and scarcely any of the luxuries, of

life were enjoyed at the north, compared with what were enjoyed by the slaveholders of the south. I probably

came to this conclusion from the fact that northern people owned no slaves. I supposed that they were about

upon a level with the nonslaveholding population of the south. I knew ~they~ were exceedingly poor, and I

had been accustomed to regard their poverty as the nec essary consequence of their being nonslaveholders.

I had somehow imbibed the opinion that, in the absence of slaves, there could be no wealth, and very little

refinement. And upon coming to the north, I expected to meet with a rough, hardhanded, and uncultivated

population, living in the most Spartan like simplicity, knowing nothing of the ease, luxury, pomp, and

grandeur of southern slaveholders. Such being my conjectures, any one acquainted with the appearance of

In the afternoon of the day when I reached New Bedford, I visited the wharves, to take a view of the

shipping. Here I found myself surrounded with the strongest proofs of wealth. Lying at the wharves, and

riding in the stream, I saw many ships of the finest model, in the best order, and of the largest size. Upon the

right and left, I was walled in by granite warehouses of the widest dimensions, stowed to their utmost

capacity with the necessaries and comforts of life. Added to this, almost every body seemed to be at work,

but noiselessly so, compared with what I had been accustomed to in Baltimore. There were no loud songs

heard from those engaged in loading and unloading ships. I heard no deep oaths or horrid curses on the

laborer. I saw no whipping of men; but all seemed to go smoothly on. Every man ap peared to understand

his work, and went at it with a sober, yet cheerful earnestness, which betokened the deep interest which he

felt in what he was doing, as well as a sense of his own dignity as a man. To me this looked exceedingly

strange. From the wharves I strolled around and over the town, gazing with won der and admiration at the

splendid churches, beauti ful dwellings, and finelycultivated gardens; evincing an amount of wealth,

comfort, taste, and refinement, such as I had never seen in any part of slaveholding Maryland.

Every thing looked clean, new, and beautiful. I saw few or no dilapidated houses, with poverty stricken

inmates; no halfnaked children and bare footed women, such as I had been accustomed to see in

Hillsborough, Easton, St. Michael's, and Balti more. The people looked more able, stronger, health ier, and

happier, than those of Maryland. I was for once made glad by a view of extreme wealth, without being

saddened by seeing extreme poverty. But the most astonishing as well as the most interesting thing to me was

the condition of the colored people, a great many of whom, like myself, had escaped thither as a refuge from

the hunters of men. I found many, who had not been seven years out of their chains, living in finer houses,

and evidently enjoying more of the comforts of life, than the average of slaveholders in 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 me meat; I was thirsty, and he gave me drink; I was a stranger, and he took me in") lived in a

neater house; dined at a better table; took, paid for, and read, more newspapers; better understood the moral,

religious, and political character of the nation,than nine tenths of the slaveholders in Tal bot county

Maryland. Yet Mr. Johnson was a work ing man. His hands were hardened by toil, and not his alone, but

those also of Mrs. Johnson. I found the colored people much more spirited than I had sup posed they would

be. I found among them a deter mination to protect each other from the bloodthirsty kidnapper, at all

hazards. Soon after my arrival, I was told of a circumstance which illustrated their spirit. A colored man and a

fugitive slave were on unfriendly terms. The former was heard to threaten the latter with informing his master

of his where abouts. Straightway a meeting was called among the colored people, under the stereotyped

notice, "Busi ness of importance!" The betrayer was invited to at tend. The people came at the appointed

hour, and organized the meeting by appointing a very religious old gentleman as president, who, I believe,

made a prayer, after which he addressed the meeting as fol lows: "~Friends, we have got him here, and I

would recommend that you young men just take him out side the door, and kill him!~" With this, a number

of them bolted at him; but they were intercepted by some more timid than themselves, and the be trayer

escaped their vengeance, and has not been seen in New Bedford since. I believe there have been no more

such threats, and should there be here after, I doubt not that death would be the conse quence.

I found employment, the third day after my ar rival, in stowing a sloop with a load of oil. It was new, dirty,

and hard work for me; but I went at it with a glad heart and a willing hand. I was now my own master. It was

a happy moment, the rapture of which can be understood only by those who have been slaves. It was the first

work, the reward of which was to be entirely my own. There was no Mas ter Hugh standing ready, the

moment I earned the money, to rob me of it. I worked that day with a pleasure I had never before

experienced. I was at work for myself and newlymarried wife. It was to me the startingpoint of a new

existence. When I got through with that job, I went in pursuit of a job of calking; but such was the strength of

prejudice against color, among the white calkers, that they re fused to work with me, and of course I could

get no employment.* Finding my trade of no immediate benefit, I threw off my calking habiliments, and pre

pared myself to do any kind of work I could get to do. Mr. Johnson kindly let me have his woodhorse and

saw, and I very soon found myself a plenty of work. There was no work too hardnone too dirty. I was

ready to saw wood, shovel coal, carry wood, sweep the chimney, or roll oil casks,all of which I

* I am told that colored persons can now get employment at calking in New Bedforda result of

antislavery effort. did for nearly three years in New Bedford, before I became known to the antislavery

In about four months after I went to New Bed ford, there came a young man to me, and inquired if I did not

wish to take the "Liberator." I told him I did; but, just having made my escape from slavery, I remarked that I

was unable to pay for it then. I, however, finally became a subscriber to it. The paper came, and I read it from

week to week with such feelings as it would be quite idle for me to attempt to describe. The paper became my

meat and my drink. My soul was set all on fire. Its sympathy for my brethren in bondsits scathing

denunciations of slaveholdersits faithful exposures of slaveryand its powerful attacks upon the

upholders of the institu tionsent a thrill of joy through my soul, such as I had never felt before!

I had not long been a reader of the "Liberator," before I got a pretty correct idea of the principles, measures

and spirit of the antislavery reform. I took right hold of the cause. I could do but little; but what I could, I

did with a joyful heart, and never felt happier than when in an antislavery meeting. I sel dom had much to

say at the meetings, because what I wanted to say was said so much better by others. But, while attending an

antislavery convention at Nantucket, on the 11th of August, 1841, I felt strongly moved to speak, and was at

the same time much urged to do so by Mr. William C. Coffin, a gentleman who had heard me speak in the

colored people's meeting at New Bedford. It was a severe cross, and I took it up reluctantly. The truth was, I

felt myself a slave, and the idea of speaking to white people weighed me down. I spoke but a few moments,

when I felt a degree of freedom, and said what I desired with considerable ease. From that time until now, I

have been engaged in pleading the cause of my brethrenwith what success, and with what devotion, I leave

I find, since reading over the foregoing Narrative, that I have, in several instances, spoken in such a tone and

manner, respecting religion, as may possi bly lead those unacquainted with my religious views to suppose

me an opponent of all religion. To re move the liability of such misapprehension, I deem it proper to append

the following brief explanation. What I have said respecting and against religion, I mean strictly to apply to

the ~slaveholding religion~ of this land, and with no possible reference to Christi anity proper; for, between

the Christianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest possible differenceso

wide, that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to re ject the other as bad, corrupt, and

wicked. To be the friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy of the other. I love the pure, peaceable,

and impar tial Christianity of Christ: I therefore hate the cor rupt, slaveholding, womenwhipping,

cradleplunder ing, partial and hypocritical Christianity of 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 as the climax of all

misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels. Never was there a clearer case of "stealing

the livery of the court of heaven to serve the devil in." I am filled with unutterable loathing when I contem

plate the religious pomp and show, together with the horrible inconsistencies, which every where surround

me. We have menstealers for ministers, women whippers for missionaries, and cradleplunderers for

church members. The man who wields the blood clotted cowskin during the week fills the pulpit on Sunday,

and claims to be a minister of the meek and lowly Jesus. The man who robs me of my earnings at the end of

each week meets me as a classleader on Sunday morning, to show me the way of life, and the path of

salvation. He who sells my sister, for purposes of prostitution, stands forth as the pi ous advocate of purity.

He who proclaims it a re ligious duty to read the Bible denies me the right of learning to read the name of

the God who made me. He who is the religious advocate of marriage robs whole millions of its sacred

influence, and leaves them to the ravages of wholesale pollution. The warm defender of the sacredness of the

family re lation is the same that scatters whole families,sun dering husbands and wives, parents and

children, sisters and brothers,leaving the hut vacant, and the hearth desolate. We see the thief preaching

against theft, and the adulterer against adultery. We have men sold to build churches, women sold to support

the gospel, and babes sold to purchase Bibles for the POOR HEATHEN! ALL FOR THE GLORY OF GOD

AND THE GOOD OF SOULS! The slave auctioneer's bell and the churchgoing bell chime in with each

other, and the bitter cries of the heartbroken slave are drowned in the religious shouts of his pious master.

Revivals of religion and revivals in the slavetrade go hand in hand together. The slave prison and the church

stand near each other. The clanking of fetters and the rattling of chains in the prison, and the pious psalm and

solemn prayer in the church, may be heard at the same time. The dealers in the bodies and souls of men erect

their stand in the presence of the pulpit, and they mutually help each other. The dealer gives his

bloodstained gold to support the pulpit, and the pulpit, in return, covers his in fernal business with the garb

of Christianity. Here we have religion and robbery the allies of each other devils dressed in angels' robes,

The Christianity of America is a Christianity, of whose votaries it may be as truly said, as it was of the

ancient scribes and Pharisees, "They bind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's

shoulders, but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. All their works they do for to be

seen of men.They love the upper most rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the syna gogues, . . . . . .

and to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi.But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up

the kingdom of heaven against men; for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering

to go in. Ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers; therefore ye shall receive the

greater dam nation. Ye compass sea and land to make one prose lyte, and when he is made, ye make 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 omit ted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy,

and faith; these ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone. Ye blind guides! which strain at a

gnat, and swallow a camel. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of

the cup and of the platter; but within, they are full of extortion and excess. Woe unto you, scribes and

Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed ap pear beautiful outward, but

are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto

Dark and terrible as is this picture, I hold it to be strictly true of the overwhelming mass of professed

Christians in America. They strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel. Could any thing be more true of our

churches? They would be shocked at the propo sition of fellowshipping a SHEEPstealer; and at the same

time they hug to their communion a MAN stealer, and brand me with being an infidel, if I find fault with

them for it. They attend with Phari saical strictness to the outward forms of religion, and at the same time

neglect the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith. They are al ways ready to sacrifice, but

seldom to show mercy. They are they who are represented as professing to love God whom they have not

seen, whilst they hate their brother whom they have seen. They love the heathen on the other side of the

globe. They can pray for him, pay money to have the Bible put into his hand, and missionaries to instruct

Such is, very briefly, my view of the religion of this land; and to avoid any misunderstanding, grow ing out

of the use of general terms, I mean by the religion of this land, that which is revealed in the words, deeds, and

actions, of those bodies, north and south, calling themselves Christian churches, and yet in union with

slaveholders. It is against religion, as presented by these bodies, that I have felt it my duty to testify.

I conclude these remarks by copying the following portrait of the religion of the south, (which is, by

communion and fellowship, the religion of the north,) which I soberly affirm is "true to the life," and without

caricature or the slightest exaggeration. It is said to have been drawn, several years before the present

antislavery agitation began, by a north ern Methodist preacher, who, while residing at the south, had an

opportunity to see slaveholding mor als, manners, and piety, with his own eyes. "Shall I not visit for these

Sincerely and earnestly hoping that this little book may do something toward throwing light on the American

slave system, and hastening the glad day of deliverance to the millions of my brethren in bondsfaithfully

relying upon the power of truth, love, and justice, for success in my humble efforts and solemnly pledging