NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS, AN AMERICAN SLAVE WRITTEN BY HIMSELF

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.>  and  Handy
Caldwell. 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 spelling-books, and nothing  would  do  but
that I must keep a Sabbath school. I agreed  to  do  so,  and  accordingly
devoted my Sundays to teaching these my loved fellow-slaves 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 rather see us engaged in those degrading sports, than to
see us behaving like intellectual, moral, and accountable beings. My blood
boils as I think of the bloody manner in which  Messrs.  Wright  Fairbanks
and Garrison West, both class-leaders, in  connection  with  many  others,
rushed in upon us with sticks and stones, and broke up our virtuous little
Sabbath school, at St. Michael's-all calling themselves Christians! humble
followers of the Lord Jesus Christ! But I am again digressing.
    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
embarrass 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 expressed. They were great days to my soul. The work
of instructing my dear fellow-slaves  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 to-day shut up  in  the  prison-house  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 Sabbath 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 thirtynine 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 bettering 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 evenings  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 master.~ For the ease with which I  passed  the
year,  I  was,  however,  somewhat  indebted  to   the   society   of   my
fellow-slaves. 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 fellowslaves, 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 subjected by our condition as slaves.
    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  content,
therefore, to live with him or any other slaveholder. 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 manhood, and year after year had passed, and I was  still
a slave. These  thoughts  roused  me-I  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 fellow-slaves were dear to me. I  was  anxious  to
have them participate with me in this,  my  life-giving  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 disposed  to  give
up, and try to content ourselves with our wretched lot; at others, we were
firm and unbending in our determination to go. Whenever we  suggested  any
plan, there was shrinking-the 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 questionable-we were yet liable to be returned to
bondage. We could see no spot, this side of the ocean, where we  could  be
free. We knew nothing about Canada. Our knowledge of  the  north  did  not
extend farther than New York; and to go there,  and  be  forever  harassed
with the  frightful  liability  of  being  returned  to  slavery-with  the
certainty of being treated tenfold worse than before-the 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 guard-on every bridge a sentineland in  every
wood a  patrol.  We  were  hemmed  in  upon  every  side.  Here  were  the
difficulties, real or imagined-the 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 snow-covered mountain, stood  a
doubtful  freedom-half  frozen-beckoning  us  to  come   and   share   its
hospitality. This in itself was sometimes enough to stagger us;  but  when
we permitted ourselves to survey the road, we  were  frequently  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 dead upon the spot! I say, this picture sometimes  appalled  us,
and made us

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

    In coming to a fixed determination to run  away,  we  did  more  than
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 should prefer death to hopeless bondage.
    Sandy, one of our number, gave up the notion,  but  still  encouraged
us. Our company then consisted of Henry Harris, John Harris, Henry Bailey,
Charles Roberts, and myself. Henry Bailey was my uncle, and belonged to my
master. Charles married my aunt: he belonged to my master's father-in-law,
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  arrival  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 several protections,  one
for each of us. As well as I can remember,  they  were  in  the  following
words, to wit:-

    "This is to certify that I, the undersigned, have given  the  bearer,
my servant, full  liberty  to  go  to  Baltimore,  and  spend  the  Easter
holidays. Written with mine own hand, &c., 1835.
                                                       "WILLIAM HAMILTON,
                        "Near St. Michael's, in Talbot county, Maryland."

    We were not going to Baltimore; but, in going up  the  bay,  we  went
toward Baltimore, and these protections were only intended to  protect  us
while on the bay.
    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 difficulty,  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  acknowledge.  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  certainly
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
engaged, I was overwhelmed with an indescribable feeling, 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."  We  said  no
more. I was never more certain of any thing.
    The horn was blown as usual, and we went up from  the  field  to  the
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 gate-post. I was not  yet  certain
as to what the matter was. In a few moments, in rode Mr. Hamilton, with  a
speed betokening great excitement. 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  dismounted,  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 gentlemen 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  satisfaction,  tied  me-lashing  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  master;  and  if  their  information  proved
false, I should not be hurt.
    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 defiance; 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 tied.
    During the scuffle, I managed, I know not how, to get  my  pass  out,
and, without being discovered, put it into the fire. We were all now tied;
and just as we were to leave for Easton jail, Betsy  Freeland,  mother  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 long-legged  mulatto  devil!  Henry
nor John would never have thought of such a thing." I made no  reply,  and
was immediately hurried off towards St. Michael's. Just a moment  previous
to the scuffle with Henry, Mr. Hamilton 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
convicted of the intention to run away.
    When we got about half way to St.  Michael's,  while  the  constables
having us in charge were looking 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
examination. 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 together-Charles,  and  Henry  Bailey,  in
another. Their object in separating us was to hinder concert.
    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 ascertain 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 going 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. Freeland 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 peaceably home.
    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  covered  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  again
with his brother Hugh, and to learn a trade.
    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 prejudice in the  community,
and he feared I might be killed.
    In a few weeks after I went to Baltimore, Master Hugh hired me to Mr.
William Gardner, an extensive ship-builder, on Fell's  Point.  I  was  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  man-of-war  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  shipyard,  my
orders from Mr. Gardner were, to do whatever the carpenters  commanded  me
to do. This was placing me at the beck and call of about seventy-five men.
I was to regard all these as masters. Their word was  to  be  my  law.  My
situation was a most trying one. At times I needed a dozen pair of  hands.
I was called a dozen ways in the space of a single minute. Three  or  four
voices would strike my ear at the same moment. It was-"Fred., come help me
to cant this timber here."-"Fred., come carry this timber yonder."-"Fred.,
bring that roller here.""Fred., go get a fresh can of water."-"Fred., come
help saw off the end of  this  timber."-"Fred.,  go  quick,  and  get  the
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  steam-box."-"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
brains out!"
    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
ship-carpenters 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 fellow-apprentices 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 journeymen, 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 handspike, 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 handspike, 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 ship-carpenters, and not one interposed a friendly  word;
but some cried, "Kill the damned nigger! Kill him! kill him! He  struck  a
white person." I found my only chance for life was in flight. I  succeeded
in 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
ship-yard; nor is there much of any other out of Mr. Gardner's ship-yard.
    I went directly home, and told the story of my wrongs to Master Hugh;
and I am happy to say of him, irreligious  as  he  was,  his  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 indignation at it. The heart of my once overkind mistress was again
melted into pity. My puffed-out eye and blood-covered 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  ship-yard  at  midday,
where there were a large company of men at work. "As to  that,"  he  said,
"the deed was done, and there was no question  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 subjected its bearer to frightful
liabilities. The watchwords of the bloody-minded 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  Christian
city of Baltimore.
    Master Hugh, finding he could get no redress, refused 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
ship-yard of which he was foreman, in the employment of Mr. Walter  Price.
There I was immediately 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 importance  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 condition 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
employment, I was kept in such a perpetual whirl of  excitement,  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  improved,  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 that only when he ceases to be a man.
    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 grim-visaged pirate upon the high seas is exactly the
same.



                                   11

    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 peculiar circumstances, I deem  it  proper  to  make  known  my
intention not to state all the facts connected 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 embarrassing 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 bondman 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
narrative, 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 myself  to  suffer  under  the  greatest  imputations  which
evil-minded men might suggest, rather than exculpate 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
themselves 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 which no one  can  be
made to suffer but myself.
    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 robber-like
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 regarded 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 look-out  for  means
of escape; and, finding 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 depend 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
of my enslavement, and the means of escape.
    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 reflection, 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 return 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 dollars 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 responsibilities 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  employer,  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  meeting,  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 ship-yard 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 admirably. 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 twentyfive  cents,
(quite a large sum for a slaveholder to give a slave,) and bade me to make
a good use of it. I told him I would.
    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
contemplated start drew near. I had a number  of  warmhearted  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 decidedly 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 apprehension 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 one-it would seal my fate as a slave forever. 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  succeeded  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, for the reasons before mentioned.
    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 myself. 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 man-of-war 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 loneliness 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 brethren-children
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  falling  into  the  hands  of  money-loving
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  land-a  land  given  up  to  be  the
huntingground   for   slaveholders-whose   inhabitants    are    legalized
kidnappers-where he is every moment subjected 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  situation-without  home  or
friends-without money or  credit-wanting  shelter,  and  no  one  to  give
itwanting bread, and no money to buy it,-and at the same time let him feel
that he is pursued by merciless men-hunters, and in total darkness  as  to
what to do, where to go, or where to stay,-perfectly helpless both  as  to
the means of defence and means of escape,-in  the  midst  of  plenty,  yet
suffering the terrible gnawings of hunger,-in the  midst  of  houses,  yet
having no home,-among fellow-men, yet feeling as if in the midst  of  wild
beasts, whose greediness to swallow up  the  trembling  and  half-famished
fugitive 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 sympathize  with,  the  toil-worn  and  whip-scarred  fugitive
slave.
    Thank Heaven,  I  remained  but  a  short  time  in  this  distressed
situation. I was relieved from it by the humane hand of Mr. DAVID RUGGLES,
whose vigilance, kindness, and perseverance, I shall never  forget.  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
himself 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
boarding-house at the corner of Church and Lespenard Streets. Mr.  Ruggles
was then very deeply engaged in the memorable  ~Darg~  case,  as  well  as
attending to a number of other fugitive slaves, devising  ways  and  means
for their successful escape; and, though watched and hemmed in  on  almost
every side, he seemed to be more than a match for his enemies.
    Very soon after I went to Mr. Ruggles, he wished to know of me  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 decided 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. Ruggles 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 ceremony, and gave  us  a  certificate,  of
which the following is an exact copy:-

    "This may certify, that I joined together in holy matrimony Frederick
Johnson
and Anna Murray, as man and wife, in the presence of Mr. David Ruggles and
Mrs. Michaels.
                                                  "JAMES W. C. PENNINGTON
                                               "NEW YORK, SEPT. 15, 1838"

    Upon receiving this certificate, and  a  five-dollar  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 steamboat 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 further assistance;
but upon our 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  welfare.  They  proved  themselves  quite
worthy of the name of abolitionists. When the stage-driver found us unable
to pay our fare, he held on upon our baggage as security for the  debt.  I
had but to mention the fact to Mr. Johnson, and he forthwith advanced  the
money.
    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 arrival at New Bedford, while at  the  breakfast-table,  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,  however,  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 "Frederick 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 name than  by  either  of
the others, I shall continue to use it as my own.
    I was quite disappointed at the general appearance of things  in  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
non-slaveholding population of the south. I knew ~they~  were  exceedingly
poor, and I had been accustomed to regard their poverty as  the  necessary
consequence of their being non-slaveholders. 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, hard-handed,  and  uncultivated  population,  living  in  the  most
Spartanlike simplicity, knowing nothing of the  ease,  luxury,  pomp,  and
grandeur of southern slaveholders. Such  being  my  conjectures,  any  one
acquainted with the appearance of New Bedford may very readily  infer  how
palpably I must have seen my mistake.
    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 appeared 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 wonder  and  admiration  at
the splendid churches, beautiful dwellings, and finely-cultivated 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 povertystricken inmates; no  half-naked  children
and  barefooted  women,  such  as  I  had  been  accustomed  to   see   in
Hillsborough, Easton, St. Michael's, and Baltimore. The people looked more
able, stronger, healthier, 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  Talbot
county Maryland. Yet Mr.  Johnson  was  a  working  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 supposed they would
be. I found among them a determination to  protect  each  other  from  the
blood-thirsty 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  whereabouts.  Straightway  a
meeting was called among the colored people, under the stereotyped notice,
"Business of importance!" The betrayer was invited to attend.  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 follows:  "~Friends,  we  have  got  him
here, and I would recommend that you young men just take him  outside  the
door, and kill him!~" With this, a number of them bolted at him; but  they
were intercepted by some more timid  than  themselves,  and  the  betrayer
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
hereafter, I doubt not that death would be the consequence.
    I found employment, the third day after  my  arrival,  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 Master 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  newly-married
wife. It was to me the starting-point 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 refused to work with me, and of course I could get no employment.   am told that colored persons can now get  employment  at  calking  in  New
Bedford-a result of anti-slavery effort.> Finding my trade of no immediate
benefit, I threw off my calking habiliments, and prepared myself to do any
kind of work I could get to  do.  Mr.  Johnson  kindly  let  me  have  his
wood-horse and saw, and I very soon found myself a plenty of  work.  There
was no work too hard-none too dirty. I was ready to saw wood, shovel coal,
carry wood, sweep the chimney, or roll oil casks,-all of which I  did  for
nearly  three  years  in  New  Bedford,  before  I  became  known  to  the
anti-slavery world.
    In about four months after I went to New Bedford, there came a  young
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 bonds-its scathing denunciations of slaveholders-its  faithful
exposures of slavery-and its powerful attacks upon the  upholders  of  the
institution-sent 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
anti-slavery 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 anti-slavery meeting. I seldom had much to say  at
the meetings, because what I wanted to say was  said  so  much  better  by
others. But, while attending an anti-slavery convention at  Nantucket,  on
the 11th 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 brethren-with what success,  and  with
what devotion, I leave those acquainted with my labors to decide.



                                APPENDIX

    I find, since reading over the foregoing Narrative, that I  have,  in
several instances, spoken in such a tone and manner, respecting  religion,
as may possibly lead those unacquainted with my religious views to suppose
me  an  opponent  of  all  religion.  To  remove  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 Christianity proper; for, between  the  Christianity
of this land, and the Christianity  of  Christ,  I  recognize  the  widest
possible difference-so wide, that to receive the one as  good,  pure,  and
holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked.  To
be the friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy of the other.  I
love  the  pure,  peaceable,  and  impartial  Christianity  of  Christ:  I
therefore    hate    the    corrupt,     slaveholding,     women-whipping,
cradle-plundering, 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 contemplate the religious pomp and  show,  together  with  the  horrible
inconsistencies, which every where surround me. We have  men-stealers  for
ministers,  womenwhippers  for  missionaries,  and  cradle-plunderers  for
church members. The man who wields the  bloodclotted  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 class-leader 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  pious  advocate  of  purity.  He  who
proclaims it a religious 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 relation is  the  same  that  scatters  whole
families,-sundering 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  church-going  bell
chime in with each other, and the bitter cries of the  heart-broken  slave
are drowned in the religious shouts  of  his  pious  master.  Revivals  of
religion and revivals in the slave-trade 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 blood-stained gold
to support the pulpit, and the pulpit,  in  return,  covers  his  infernal
business with the garb of Christianity. Here we have religion and  robbery
the allies of each other  -devils  dressed  in  angels'  robes,  and  hell
presenting the semblance of paradise.
         "Just God! and these are they,
            Who minister at thine altar, God of right!
         Men who their hands, with prayer and blessing, lay
            On Israel's ark of light.
         "What! preach, and kidnap men?
            Give thanks, and rob thy own afflicted poor?
         Talk of thy glorious liberty, and then
            Bolt hard the captive's door?
         "What! servants of thy own
            Merciful Son, who came to seek and save
         The homeless and the outcast, fettering down
            The tasked and plundered slave!
         "Pilate and Herod friends!
            Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine!
         Just God and holy! is that church which lends
            Strength to the spoiler thine?"

    The Christianity of America is a Christianity, of whose  votaries  it
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
uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, . . .  .
. . 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 damnation. Ye compass sea and  land
to make one proselyte, 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 appear beautiful outward, but are within full of  dead  men's
bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear  righteous
unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity."
    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  proposition  of  fellowshipping  a
SHEEP-stealer; and at  the  same  time  they  hug  to  their  communion  a
MANstealer, and brand me with being an infidel, if I find fault with  them
for it. They attend with Pharisaical 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 always 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 him; while they despise and totally  neglect  the  heathen  at
their own doors.
    Such is, very briefly, my view of the religion of this land;  and  to
avoid any misunderstanding, growing 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 anti-slavery agitation began, by a
northern Methodist preacher, who, while residing  at  the  south,  had  an
opportunity to see slaveholding morals, manners, and piety, with  his  own
eyes. "Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord.  Shall  not  my
soul be avenged on such a nation as this?"



                                A PARODY

         "Come, saints and sinners, hear me tell
         How pious priests whip Jack and Nell,
         And women buy and children sell,
         And preach all sinners down to hell,
           And sing of heavenly union.
         "They'll bleat and baa, dona like goats,
         Gorge down black sheep, and strain at motes,
         Array their backs in fine black coats,
         Then seize their negroes by their throats,
           And choke, for heavenly union.
         "They'll church you if you sip a dram,
         And damn you if you steal a lamb;
         Yet rob old Tony, Doll, and Sam,
         Of human rights, and bread and ham;
           Kidnapper's heavenly union.
         "They'll loudly talk of Christ's reward,
         And bind his image with a cord,
         And scold, and swing the lash abhorred,
         And sell their brother in the Lord
           To handcuffed heavenly union.
         "They'll read and sing a sacred song,
         And make a prayer both loud and long,
         And teach the right and do the wrong,
         Hailing the brother, sister throng,
           With words of heavenly union.
         "We wonder how such saints can sing,
         Or praise the Lord upon the wing,
         Who roar, and scold, and whip, and sting,
         And to their slaves and mammon cling,
           In guilty conscience union.
         "They'll raise tobacco, corn, and rye,
         And drive, and thieve, and cheat, and lie,
         And lay up treasures in the sky,
         By making switch and cowskin fly,
           In hope of heavenly union.
         "They'll crack old Tony on the skull,
         And preach and roar like Bashan bull,
         Or braying ass, of mischief full,
         Then seize old Jacob by the wool,
           And pull for heavenly union.
         "A roaring, ranting, sleek man-thief,
         Who lived on mutton, veal, and beef,
         Yet never would afford relief
         To needy, sable sons of grief,
           Was big with heavenly union.
         "'Love not the world,' the preacher said,
         And winked his eye, and shook his head;
         He seized on Tom, and Dick, and Ned,
         Cut short their meat, and clothes, and bread,
           Yet still loved heavenly union.
         "Another preacher whining spoke
         Of One whose heart for sinners broke:
         He tied old Nanny to an oak,
         And drew the blood at every stroke,
           And prayed for heavenly union.
         "Two others oped their iron jaws,
         And waved their children-stealing paws;
         There sat their children in gewgaws;
         By stinting negroes' backs and maws,
           They kept up heavenly union.
         "All good from Jack another takes,
         And entertains their flirts and rakes,
         Who dress as sleek as glossy snakes,
         And cram their mouths with sweetened cakes;
           And this goes down for union."

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

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