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Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave

fan. I had by this time crawled away under the

side of the post and rail-fence 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 half-bushel

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

<73>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

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Categories: Frederick Douglass
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