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Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave

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 offer thanksgiving

and praise.

VI

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 discord; and that angelic face gave

place to that of a demon.

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 master — to 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 difficulty — to 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 non-slaveholding 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 twenty-two 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 eye-witness 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 half-starved.

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 called

“PECKED” than by her name.

VII

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 as though I were

a brute.

My mistress was, as I have said, a kind and tender-

hearted woman; and in the simplicity of her soul she

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Categories: Frederick Douglass
curiosity: