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Narrative of the Life of FREDERICK DOUGLASS

AN AMERICAN SLAVE. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

BOSTON

PUBLISHED AT THE ANTI-SLAVERY OFFICE, NO. 25 CORNHILL 1845


CHAPTER I

I was born in Talbot county, Maryland, near Easton, in the year 1818. When I was about seven or eight years old, I was taken from my mother, and sent to Baltimore, where I lived at least seven years. The precise year of my birth is a matter of conjecture. I hear some saying I was ten, others twelve, and others still say I was seven or eight when I left my grandmother. I have no means of knowing the exact time, as there was no family record kept for the slaves.

My first home was with my aunt, Harriet Bailey, in Baltimore, the wife of Lloyd Allcock, a man of some note in the neighborhood, and one of the most cruel drivers in Talbot county. Mrs. Sophia Auld was my new mistress, and I soon found that the kindness with which I had been treated by my grandmother, on the Eastern Shore, was no preparation for the rudeness and severity of my new mistress. I had been accustomed to kind words and gentle treatment from my mother and grandmother, but in Baltimore, I soon learned to regard both as novelties.

My father I never saw, and I know nothing of him. My mother I saw but four times in my life, and never to my knowledge as a mother. She was hired out on another plantation, some twelve miles from the house of my birth. She made those few visits to me in the night, staying but a short time, and going away in the darkness. I do not recollect of ever sitting on her lap, or being held in her arms. I never knew her as such. She was a stranger to me. After I had been in Baltimore a short while, she died. I was informed of her death by a messenger, perhaps a few days after it occurred. I was not allowed to go to her funeral, nor did I know where she was buried. The wits of slavery are not slow in stripping the slave of all social ties and moral supports. A slave, in the estimation of the law, religion, and the slaveholder, is not a moral being.

In the family of my master, I was both a playmate and servant to the children of my master’s brother-in-law, Mr. Hugh Auld. I was kept almost naked in the summer season, and in a coarse linen shirt in the winter. I suffered much from cold during the winter. The gentlemen and ladies of the house, and the children, took pleasure in whipping me. My coat, a coarse shirting, afforded little protection against the winter’s chilling winds. The hunger I experienced was an old familiar ache.

I had attributed my hard treatment in some measure to my own naughtiness, and in some measure to the misfortune of being in the family of my master’s brother-in-law. I was, however, soon relieved from this unpleasant service, and sent back to Baltimore, to live with Mr. and Mrs. Auld, at the house where I first lived after coming to the city. Mr. Auld was a ship-carpenter, a hard, stern man, and wholly unfit to have the charge of a slave. He was a man of some means, and kept a good establishment. He was frequently absent from home, and his wife, Sophia, was the mistress of the house.

I was now put to the business of waiting on Mr. Auld, and running errands for the house. This was a much better situation than the one I had just left. I was better fed, better clothed, and contrary to the laws of Maryland, I was permitted to learn to read.

CHAPTER II

Very soon after I went to live with Mr. and Mrs. Auld, in the circumstance of which I have before spoken, I was sent to Mr. Hugh Auld, my master’s brother-in-law, to learn the trade of a ship blacksmith. I was about seven or eight years old at this time. Master Hugh was a master ship-carpenters in the navy yard, a strict, overbearing, and cruel man. He had but little patience with a clumsy boy. The work was hard, the hours long, and the blows many.

I was not a very apt scholar at first, and my master soon became disgusted with my stupidity. He said, “If you teach that boy reading, he will never be a slave; that if you teach him how to read, he will fill your head with notions that will spoil you for a slave.” Mrs. Auld was a kind, affectionate woman before I went there, but the cruel laws of slavery soon converted her into a savage. She would no longer allow me to be taught, and very soon had no kind words or gentle actions for me. She was a new convert to the religion of slavery.

Mrs. Auld had taught me my letters and part of the alphabet; her husband interfered, and forbade her to teach me any more, for the reason stated above. From that moment, I understood the pathway from slavery to freedom. It was found in the pathway from ignorance to knowledge.

From that time, I resolved to learn to read, at whatever cost. I kept my eye on the white children, and in every way I could, I managed to pick up scraps of knowledge from them. I would make the white boys promise to teach me the alphabet. I would give them bread, or any little thing I could get, in exchange for a lesson. I was still in the dark, but my mind was on fire.

I would often steal away to the neighboring white children, and when I found an opportunity, I would make them tell me the name of any word I did not know. I would practice spelling with them, and in this way, I got what little learning I had. I was a frequent visitor to the newspapers, and other printed matter I could get my hands on. I would go into the streets with my master’s children, and if I saw a word I did not know, I would ask them its meaning. I was not above asking the very youngest of them.

My progress in learning to read was slow but sure. I would read, and read, and read, by the light of the street lamps, or in the dark, by recollection. I would repeat over and over again the words I had seen, until I had them fixed in my mind.

CHAPTER III

I left Mr. Hugh Auld’s house in the fall of 1833, and was sent to Mr. Edward Covey, a man famed in Talbot county for his successful management of slaves. He was known as a "slave-breaker." I was sent to him to learn my trade, but in reality, I was sent to him to be thoroughly broken.

Mr. Covey lived on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, on the river side. The place was called Covey’s Farm. He was a very pious man, or at least, he professed to be one. He used to read the Bible to his slaves every Sunday, and would make them repeat prayers after him. He was a very strict disciplinarian, and was praised very much for his severity.

I was sent to him in the spring of 1833. I was just fourteen years old. My heart sank within me when I learned where I was going. I had heard of Mr. Covey, and knew his reputation. I knew I was going to a place where I would be completely crushed.

The first six months on the Eastern Shore, I was constantly under the eye of Mr. Covey. He was a hard man, and worked his slaves without remission, from sunup to sundown, and often later. He was a man of medium size, and of a sandy complexion, with a restless, nervous, and suspicious eye. He was constantly on the alert, watching his slaves, and inflicting punishment upon them on the slightest pretext.

I was made to work in the field, under his immediate supervision. I was put to the hardest labor, and was subjected to the most cruel treatment. I was whipped often, sometimes daily. I was kept constantly hungry, and was not allowed to rest, even for a moment. I was made to work like a beast of burden, and was treated with less consideration than the horses and oxen on the farm.

Mr. Covey was a man of deep religious pretensions, but he practiced a religion that made him cruel and hypocritical. He would quote scripture to justify his actions, and would tell his slaves that it was their duty to obey their masters in all things. He was a master of deception, and could appear perfectly kind and benevolent to strangers, while he was tyrannical and cruel to those under his control.

I have seen him whip a young woman until the blood ran down her back, for only looking at him in a certain way. He would use the most abominable language, and would curse and swear at his slaves, and then turn around and pray with them.

My spirit, which had been somewhat sustained by the kindness of Mrs. Auld, began to fade under the constant oppression of Mr. Covey. I was beaten, bruised, and broken. I was reduced to the condition of an animal, and I began to despair of ever being a man.

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