i had left master thomas's house, and went to live with mr. covey, on the 1st of january, 1833. i was now, for the first time in my life, a field hand. in my new employment, i found myself even more awkward than a country boy appeared to be in a large city. i had been at my new home but one week before mr. covey gave me a very severe whipping, cutting my back, causing the blood to run, and raising ridges on my flesh as large as my little finger. the details of this affair are as follows: mr. covey sent me, very early in the morning of one of our coldest days in the month of january, to the woods, to get a load of wood. he gave me a team of unbroken oxen. he told me which was the in-hand ox, and which the off-hand one. he then tied the end of a large rope around the horns of the in-hand ox, and gave me the other end of it, and told me, if the oxen started to run, that i must hold on upon the rope. i had never driven oxen before, and of course i was very awkward. i, however, succeeded in getting to the edge of the woods with little difficulty; but i had got a very few rods into the woods, when the oxen took fright, and started full tilt, carrying the cart against trees, and over stumps, in the most frightful manner. i expected every moment that my brains would be dashed out against the trees. after running thus for a considerable distance, they finally upset the cart, dashing it with great force against a tree, and threw themselves into a dense thicket. how i escaped death, i do not know. there i was, entirely alone, in a thick wood, in a place new to me. my cart was upset and shattered, my oxen were entangled among the young trees, and there was none to help me. after a long spell of effort, i succeeded in getting my cart righted, my oxen disentangled, and again yoked to the cart. i now proceeded with my team to the place where i had, the day before, been chopping wood, and loaded my cart pretty heavily, thinking in this way to tame my oxen. i then proceeded on my way home. i had now consumed one half of the day. i got out of the woods safely, and now felt out of danger. i stopped my oxen to open the woods gate; and just as i did so, before i could get hold of my ox-rope, the oxen again started, rushed through the gate, catching it between the wheel and the body of the cart, tearing it to pieces, and coming within a few inches of crushing me against the gate-post. thus twice, in one short day, i escaped death by the merest chance. on my return, i told mr. covey what had happened, and how it happened. he ordered me to return to the woods again immediately. i did so, and he followed on after me. just as i got into the woods, he came up and told me to stop my cart, and that he would teach me how to trifle away my time, and break gates. he then went to a large gum-tree, and with his axe cut three large switches, and, after trimming them up neatly with his pocketknife, he ordered me to take off my clothes. i made him no answer, but stood with my clothes on. he repeated his order. i still made him no answer, nor did i move to strip myself. upon this he rushed at me with the fierceness of a tiger, tore off my clothes, and lashed me till he had worn out his switches, cutting me so savagely as to leave the marks visible for a long time after. this whipping was the first of a number just like it, and for similar offences.

i lived with mr. covey one year. during the first six months, of that year, scarce a week passed without his whipping me. i was seldom free from a sore back. my awkwardness was almost always his excuse for whipping me. we were worked fully up to the point of endurance. long before day we were up, our horses fed, and by the first approach of day we were off to the field with our hoes and ploughing teams. mr. covey gave us enough to eat, but scarce time to eat it. we were often less than five minutes taking our meals. we were often in the field from the first approach of day till its last lingering ray had left us; and at saving-fodder time, midnight often caught us in the field binding blades.

covey would be out with us. the way he used to stand it, was this. he would spend the most of his afternoons in bed. he would then come out fresh in the evening, ready to urge us on with his words, example, and frequently with the whip. mr. covey was one of the few slaveholders who could and did work with his hands. he was a hard-working man. he knew by himself just what a man or a boy could do. there was no deceiving him. his work went on in his absence almost as well as in his presence; and he had the faculty of making us feel that he was ever present with us. this he did by surprising us. he seldom approached the spot where we were at work openly, if he could do it secretly. he always aimed at taking us by surprise. such was his cunning, that we used to call him, among ourselves, "the snake." when we were at work in the cornfield, he would sometimes crawl on his hands and knees to avoid detection, and all at once he would rise nearly in our midst, and scream out, "ha, ha! come, come! dash on, dash on!" this being his mode of attack, it was never safe to stop a single minute. his comings were like a thief in the night. he appeared to us as being ever at hand. he was under every tree, behind every stump, in every bush, and at every window, on the plantation. he would sometimes mount his horse, as if bound to st. michael's, a distance of seven miles, and in half an hour afterwards you would see him coiled up in the corner of the wood-fence, watching every motion of the slaves. he would, for this purpose, leave his horse tied up in the woods. again, he would sometimes walk up to us, and give us orders as though he was upon the point of starting on a long journey, turn his back upon us, and make as though he was going to the house to get ready; and, before he would get half way thither, he would turn short and crawl into a fence-corner, or behind some tree, and there watch us till the going down of the sun.

mr. covey's forte consisted in his power to deceive. his life was devoted to planning and perpetrating the grossest deceptions. every thing he possessed in the shape of learning or religion, he made conform to his disposition to deceive. he seemed to think himself equal to deceiving the almighty. he would make a short prayer in the morning, and a long prayer at night; and, strange as it may seem, few men would at times appear more devotional than he. the exercises of his family devotions were always commenced with singing; and, as he was a very poor singer himself, the duty of raising the hymn generally came upon me. he would read his hymn, and nod at me to commence. i would at times do so; at others, i would not. my non-compliance would almost always produce much confusion. to show himself independent of me, he would start and stagger through with his hymn in the most discordant manner. in this state of mind, he prayed with more than ordinary spirit. poor man! such was his disposition, and success at deceiving, i do verily believe that he sometimes deceived himself into the solemn belief, that he was a sincere worshipper of the most high god; and this, too, at a time when he may be said to have been guilty of compelling his woman slave to commit the sin of adultery. the facts in the case are these: mr. covey was a poor man; he was just commencing in life; he was only able to buy one slave; and, shocking as is the fact, he bought her, as he said, for a breeder. this woman was named caroline. mr. covey bought her from mr. thomas lowe, about six miles from st. michael's. she was a large, able-bodied woman, about twenty years old. she had already given birth to one child, which proved her to be just what he wanted. after buying her, he hired a married man of mr. samuel harrison, to live with him one year; and him he used to fasten up with her every night! the result was, that, at the end of the year, the miserable woman gave birth to twins. at this result mr. covey seemed to be highly pleased, both with the man and the wretched woman. such was his joy, and that of his wife, that nothing they could do for caroline during her confinement was too good, or too hard, to be done. the children were regarded as being quite an addition to his wealth.

if at any one time of my life more than another, i was made to drink the bitterest dregs of slavery, that time was during the first six months of my stay with mr. covey. we were worked in all weathers. it was never too hot or too cold; it could never rain, blow, hail, or snow, too hard for us to work in the field. work, work, work, was scarcely more the order of the day than of the night. the longest days were too short for him, and the shortest nights too long for him. i was somewhat unmanageable when i first went there, but a few months of this discipline tamed me. mr. covey succeeded in breaking me. i was broken in body, soul, and spirit. my natural elasticity was crushed, my intellect languished, the disposition to read departed, the cheerful spark that lingered about my eye died; the dark night of slavery closed in upon me; and behold a man transformed into a brute!

sunday was my only leisure time. i spent this in a sort of beast-like stupor, between sleep and wake, under some large tree. at times i would rise up, a flash of energetic freedom would dart through my soul, accompanied with a faint beam of hope, that flickered for a moment, and then vanished. i sank down again, mourning over my wretched condition. i was sometimes prompted to take my life, and that of covey, but was prevented by a combination of hope and fear. my sufferings on this plantation seem now like a dream rather than a stern reality.

our house stood within a few rods of the chesapeake bay, whose broad bosom was ever white with sails from every quarter of the habitable globe. those beautiful vessels, robed in purest white, so delightful to the eye of freemen, were to me so many shrouded ghosts, to terrify and torment me with thoughts of my wretched condition. i have often, in the deep stillness of a summer's sabbath, stood all alone upon the lofty banks of that noble bay, and traced, with saddened heart and tearful eye, the countless number of sails moving off to the mighty ocean. the sight of these always affected me powerfully. my thoughts would compel utterance; and there, with no audience but the almighty, i would pour out my soul's complaint, in my rude way, with an apostrophe to the moving multitude of ships:—

"you are loosed from your moorings, and are free; i am fast in my chains, and am a slave! you move merrily before the gentle gale, and i sadly before the bloody whip! you are freedom's swift-winged angels, that fly round the world; i am confined in bands of iron! o that i were free! o, that i were on one of your gallant decks, and under your protecting wing! alas! betwixt me and you, the turbid waters roll. go on, go on. o that i could also go! could i but swim! if i could fly! o, why was i born a man, of whom to make a brute! the glad ship is gone; she hides in the dim distance. i am left in the hottest hell of unending slavery. o god, save me! god, deliver me! let me be free! is there any god? why am i a slave? i will run away. i will not stand it. get caught, or get clear, i'll try it. i had as well die with ague as the fever. i have only one life to lose. i had as well be killed running as die standing. only think of it; one hundred miles straight north, and i am free! try it? yes! god helping me, i will. it cannot be that i shall live and die a slave. i will take to the water. this very bay shall yet bear me into freedom. the steamboats steered in a north-east course from north point. i will do the same; and when i get to the head of the bay, i will turn my canoe adrift, and walk straight through delaware into pennsylvania. when i get there, i shall not be required to have a pass; i can travel without being disturbed. let but the first opportunity offer, and, come what will, i am off. meanwhile, i will try to bear up under the yoke. i am not the only slave in the world. why should i fret? i can bear as much as any of them. besides, i am but a boy, and all boys are bound to some one. it may be that my misery in slavery will only increase my happiness when i get free. there is a better day coming."

thus i used to think, and thus i used to speak to myself; goaded almost to madness at one moment, and at the next reconciling myself to my wretched lot.

i have already intimated that my condition was much worse, during the first six months of my stay at mr. covey's, than in the last six. the circumstances leading to the change in mr. covey's course toward me form an epoch in my humble history. you have seen how a man was made a slave; you shall see how a slave was made a man. on one of the hottest days of the month of august, 1833, bill smith, william hughes, a slave named eli, and myself, were engaged in fanning wheat. hughes was clearing the fanned wheat from before the fan. eli was turning, smith was feeding, and i was carrying wheat to the fan. the work was simple, requiring strength rather than intellect; yet, to one entirely unused to such work, it came very hard. about three o'clock of that day, i broke down; my strength failed me; i was seized with a violent aching of the head, attended with extreme dizziness; i trembled in every limb. finding what was coming, i nerved myself up, feeling it would never do to stop work. i stood as long as i could stagger to the hopper with grain. when i could stand no longer, i fell, and felt as if held down by an immense weight. the fan of course stopped; every one had his own work to do; and no one could do the work of the other, and have his own go on at the same time.

mr. covey was at the house, about one hundred yards from the treading-yard where we were fanning. on hearing the fan stop, he left immediately, and came to the spot where we were. he hastily inquired what the matter was. bill answered that i was sick, and there was no one to bring wheat to the fan. i had by this time crawled away under the side of the post and 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, stooping 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 receiving this blow, my head grew better. mr. covey had now left me to my fate. at this moment i resolved, 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 overhauled 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 presented 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 escaped 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 orders, i started off to covey's in the morning, (saturday 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 altogether unaccountable. he finally gave up the chase, thinking, i suppose, that i must come home for something to eat; he would give himself no further 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 invited 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 impossible 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, telling me it could do no harm, if it did no good. to please him, i at length took the root, and, according 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 something in the root which sandy had given me; and had it been on any other day than sunday, i could have attributed the conduct to no other cause than the influence of that root; and as it was, i was half inclined to think the root to be something more than i at first had taken it to be. all went well till monday morning. on this morning, the virtue of the root was fully tested. long before daylight, i was called to go and rub, curry, and feed, the horses. i obeyed, and was glad to obey. but whilst thus engaged, whilst in the act of throwing down some blades from the loft, mr. covey entered the stable with a long rope; and just as i was half out of the loft, he caught hold of my legs, and was about tying me. as soon as i found what he was up to, i gave a sudden spring, and as i did so, he holding to my legs, i was brought sprawling on the stable floor. mr. covey seemed now to think he had me, and could do what he pleased; but at this moment—from whence came the spirit i don't know—i resolved to fight; and, suiting my action to the resolution, i seized covey hard by the throat; and as i did so, i rose. he held on to me, and i to him. my resistance was so entirely unexpected that covey seemed taken all aback. he trembled like a leaf. this gave me assurance, and i held him uneasy, causing the blood to run where i touched him with the ends of my fingers. mr. covey soon called out to hughes for help. hughes came, and, while covey held me, attempted to tie my right hand. while he was in the act of doing so, i watched my chance, and gave him a heavy kick close under the ribs. this kick fairly sickened hughes, so that he left me in the hands of mr. covey. this kick had the effect of not only weakening hughes, but covey also. when he saw hughes bending over with pain, his courage quailed. he asked me if i meant to persist in my resistance. i told him i did, come what might; that he had used me like a brute for six months, and that i was determined to be used so no longer. with that, he strove to drag me to a stick that was lying just out of the stable door. he meant to knock me down. but just as he was leaning over to get the stick, i seized him with both hands by his collar, and brought him by a sudden snatch to the ground. by this time, bill came. covey called upon him for assistance. bill wanted to know what he could do. covey said, "take hold of him, take hold of him!" bill said his master hired him out to work, and not to help to whip me; so he left covey and myself to fight our own battle out. we were at it for nearly two hours. covey at length let me go, puffing and blowing at a great rate, saying that if i had not resisted, he would not have whipped me half so much. the truth was, that he had not whipped me at all. i considered him as getting entirely the worst end of the bargain; for he had drawn no blood from me, but i had from him. the whole six months afterwards, that i spent with mr. covey, he never laid the weight of his finger upon me in anger. he would occasionally say, he didn't want to get hold of me again. "no," thought i, "you need not; for you will come off worse than you did before."

this battle with mr. covey was the turning-point in my career as a slave. it rekindled the few expiring embers of freedom, and revived within me a sense of my own manhood. it recalled the departed self-confidence, and inspired me again with a determination to be free. the gratification afforded by the triumph was a full compensation for whatever else might follow, even death itself. he only can understand the deep satisfaction which i experienced, who has himself repelled by force the bloody arm of slavery. i felt as i never felt before. it was a glorious resurrection, from the tomb of slavery, to the heaven of freedom. my long-crushed spirit rose, cowardice departed, bold defiance took its place; and i now resolved that, however long i might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when i could be a slave in fact. i did not hesitate to let it be known of me, that the white man who expected to succeed in whipping, must also succeed in killing me.

from this time i was never again what might be called fairly whipped, though i remained a slave four years afterwards. i had several fights, but was never whipped.

it was for a long time a matter of surprise to me why mr. covey did not immediately have me taken by the constable to the whipping-post, and there regularly whipped for the crime of raising my hand against a white man in defence of myself. and the only explanation i can now think of does not entirely satisfy me; but such as it is, i will give it. mr. covey enjoyed the most unbounded reputation for being a first-rate overseer and negro-breaker. it was of considerable importance to him. that reputation was at stake; and had he sent me—a boy about sixteen years old—to the public whipping-post, his reputation would have been lost; so, to save his reputation, he suffered me to go unpunished.

my term of actual service to mr. edward covey ended on christmas day, 1833. the days between christmas and new year's day are allowed as holidays; and, accordingly, we were not required to perform any labor, more than to feed and take care of the stock. this time we regarded as our own, by the grace of our masters; and we therefore used or abused it nearly as we pleased. those of us who had families at a distance, were generally allowed to spend the whole six days in their society. this time, however, was spent in various ways. the staid, sober, thinking and industrious ones of our number would employ themselves in making corn-brooms, mats, horse-collars, and baskets; and another class of us would spend the time in hunting opossums, hares, and coons. but by far the larger part engaged in such sports and merriments as playing ball, wrestling, running foot-races, fiddling, dancing, and drinking whisky; and this latter mode of spending the time was by far the most agreeable to the feelings of our masters. a slave who would work during the holidays was considered by our masters as scarcely deserving them. he was regarded as one who rejected the favor of his master. it was deemed a disgrace not to get drunk at christmas; and he was regarded as lazy indeed, who had not provided himself with the necessary means, during the year, to get whisky enough to last him through christmas.

from what i know of the effect of these holidays upon the slave, i believe them to be among the most effective means in the hands of the slaveholder in keeping down the spirit of insurrection. were the slaveholders at once to abandon this practice, i have not the slightest doubt it would lead to an immediate insurrection among the slaves. these holidays serve as conductors, or safety-valves, to carry off the rebellious spirit of enslaved humanity. but for these, the slave would be forced up to the wildest desperation; and woe betide the slaveholder, the day he ventures to remove or hinder the operation of those conductors! i warn him that, in such an event, a spirit will go forth in their midst, more to be dreaded than the most appalling earthquake.

the holidays are part and parcel of the gross fraud, wrong, and inhumanity of slavery. they are professedly a custom established by the benevolence of the slaveholders; but i undertake to say, it is the result of selfishness, and one of the grossest frauds committed upon the down-trodden slave. they do not give the slaves this time because they would not like to have their work during its continuance, but because they know it would be unsafe to deprive them of it. this will be seen by the fact, that the slaveholders like to have their slaves spend those days just in such a manner as to make them as glad of their ending as of their beginning. their object seems to be, to disgust their slaves with freedom, by plunging them into the lowest depths of dissipation. for instance, the slaveholders not only like to see the slave drink of his own accord, but will adopt various plans to make him drunk. one plan is, to make bets on their slaves, as to who can drink the most whisky without getting drunk; and in this way they succeed in getting whole multitudes to drink to excess. thus, when the slave asks for virtuous freedom, the cunning slaveholder, knowing his ignorance, cheats him with a dose of vicious dissipation, artfully labelled with the name of liberty. the most of us used to drink it down, and the result was just what might be supposed; many of us were led to think that there was little to choose between liberty and slavery. we felt, and very properly too, that we had almost as well be slaves to man as to rum. so, when the holidays ended, we staggered up from the filth of our wallowing, took a long breath, and marched to the field,—feeling, upon the whole, rather glad to go, from what our master had deceived us into a belief was freedom, back to the arms of slavery.

i have said that this mode of treatment is a part of the whole system of fraud and inhumanity of slavery. it is so. the mode here adopted to disgust the slave with freedom, by allowing him to see only the abuse of it, is carried out in other things. for instance, a slave loves molasses; he steals some. his master, in many cases, goes off to town, and buys a large quantity; he returns, takes his whip, and commands the slave to eat the molasses, until the poor fellow is made sick at the very mention of it. the same mode is sometimes adopted to make the slaves refrain from asking for more food than their regular allowance. a slave runs through his allowance, and applies for more. his master is enraged at him; but, not willing to send him off without food, gives him more than is necessary, and compels him to eat it within a given time. then, if he complains that he cannot eat it, he is said to be satisfied neither full nor fasting, and is whipped for being hard to please! i have an abundance of such illustrations of the same principle, drawn from my own observation, but think the cases i have cited sufficient. the practice is a very common one.

on the first of january, 1834, i left mr. covey, and went to live with mr. william freeland, who lived about three miles from st. michael's. i soon found mr. freeland a very different man from mr. covey. though not rich, he was what would be called an educated southern gentleman. mr. covey, as i have shown, was a well-trained negro-breaker and slave-driver. the former (slaveholder though he was) seemed to possess some regard for honor, some reverence for justice, and some respect for humanity. the latter seemed totally insensible to all such sentiments. mr. freeland had many of the faults peculiar to slaveholders, such as being very passionate and fretful; but i must do him the justice to say, that he was exceedingly free from those degrading vices to which mr. covey was constantly addicted. the one was open and frank, and we always knew where to find him. the other was a most artful deceiver, and could be understood only by such as were skilful enough to detect his cunningly-devised frauds. another advantage i gained in my new master was, he made no pretensions to, or profession of, religion; and this, in my opinion, was truly a great advantage. i assert most unhesitatingly, that the religion of the south is a mere covering for the most horrid crimes,—a justifier of the most appalling barbarity,—a sanctifier of the most hateful frauds,—and a dark shelter under, which the darkest, foulest, grossest, and most infernal deeds of slaveholders find the strongest protection. were i to be again reduced to the chains of slavery, next to that enslavement, i should regard being the slave of a religious master the greatest calamity that could befall me. for of all slaveholders with whom i have ever met, religious slaveholders are the worst. i have ever found them the meanest and basest, the most cruel and cowardly, of all others. it was my unhappy lot not only to belong to a religious slaveholder, but to live in a community of such religionists. very near mr. freeland lived the rev. daniel weeden, and in the same neighborhood lived the rev. rigby hopkins. these were members and ministers in the reformed methodist church. mr. weeden owned, among others, a woman slave, whose name i have forgotten. this woman's back, for weeks, was kept literally raw, made so by the lash of this merciless, religious wretch. he used to hire hands. his maxim was, behave well or behave ill, it is the duty of a master occasionally to whip a slave, to remind him of his master's authority. such was his theory, and such his practice.

mr. hopkins was even worse than mr. weeden. his chief boast was his ability to manage slaves. the peculiar feature of his government was that of whipping slaves in advance of deserving it. he always managed to have one or more of his slaves to whip every monday morning. he did this to alarm their fears, and strike terror into those who escaped. his plan was to whip for the smallest offences, to prevent the commission of large ones. mr. hopkins could always find some excuse for whipping a slave. it would astonish one, unaccustomed to a slaveholding life, to see with what wonderful ease a slaveholder can find things, of which to make occasion to whip a slave. a mere look, word, or motion,—a mistake, accident, or want of power,—are all matters for which a slave may be whipped at any time. does a slave look dissatisfied? it is said, he has the devil in him, and it must be whipped out. does he speak loudly when spoken to by his master? then he is getting high-minded, and should be taken down a button-hole lower. does he forget to pull off his hat at the approach of a white person? then he is wanting in reverence, and should be whipped for it. does he ever venture to vindicate his conduct, when censured for it? then he is guilty of impudence,—one of the greatest crimes of which a slave can be guilty. does he ever venture to suggest a different mode of doing things from that pointed out by his master? he is indeed presumptuous, and getting above himself; and nothing less than a flogging will do for him. does he, while ploughing, break a plough,—or, while hoeing, break a hoe? it is owing to his carelessness, and for it a slave must always be whipped. mr. hopkins could always find something of this sort to justify the use of the lash, and he seldom failed to embrace such opportunities. there was not a man in the whole county, with whom the slaves who had the getting their own home, would not prefer to live, rather than with this rev. mr. hopkins. and yet there was not a man any where round, who made higher professions of religion, or was more active in revivals,—more attentive to the class, love-feast, prayer and preaching meetings, or more devotional in his family,—that prayed earlier, later, louder, and longer,—than this same reverend slave-driver, rigby hopkins.

but to return to mr. freeland, and to my experience while in his employment. he, like mr. covey, gave us enough to eat; but, unlike mr. covey, he also gave us sufficient time to take our meals. he worked us hard, but always between sunrise and sunset. he required a good deal of work to be done, but gave us good tools with which to work. his farm was large, but he employed hands enough to work it, and with ease, compared with many of his neighbors. my treatment, while in his employment, was heavenly, compared with what i experienced at the hands of mr. edward covey.

mr. freeland was himself the owner of but two slaves. their names were henry harris and john harris. the rest of his hands he hired. these consisted of myself, sandy jenkins,* and handy caldwell.

*this is the same man who gave me the roots to prevent my

being whipped by mr. covey. he was "a clever soul." we used

frequently to talk about the fight with covey, and as often

as we did so, he would claim my success as the result of the

roots which he gave me. this superstition is very common

among the more ignorant slaves. a slave seldom dies but that

his death is attributed to trickery.

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 thirty-nine lashes. they came because they wished to learn. their minds had been starved by their cruel masters. they had been shut up in mental darkness. i taught them, because it was the delight of my soul to be doing something that looked like 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 fellow-slaves, and especially those with whom i lived at mr. freeland's. i believe we would have died for each other. we never undertook to do any thing, of any importance, without a mutual consultation. we never moved separately. we were one; and as much so by our tempers and dispositions, as by the mutual hardships to which we were necessarily 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 sentinel—and 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.