My Bondage and My Freedom, My Bondage and My Freedom

F >> Frederick Douglass >> My Bondage and My Freedom, My Bondage and My Freedom

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Although slavery was a delicate subject, and very cautiously
talked about among grown up people in Maryland, I frequently
talked about it--and that very freely--with the white boys. I
<122>would, sometimes, say to them, while seated on a curb stone
or a cellar door, "I wish I could be free, as you will be when
you get to be men." "You will be free, you know, as soon as you
are twenty-one, and can go where you like, but I am a slave for
life. Have I not as good a right to be free as you have?" Words
like these, I observed, always troubled them; and I had no small
satisfaction in wringing from the boys, occasionally, that fresh
and bitter condemnation of slavery, that springs from nature,
unseared and unperverted. Of all consciences let me have those
to deal with which have not been bewildered by the cares of life.
I do not remember ever to have met with a _boy_, while I was in
slavery, who defended the slave system; but I have often had boys
to console me, with the hope that something would yet occur, by
which I might be made free. Over and over again, they have told
me, that "they believed I had as good a right to be free as
_they_ had;" and that "they did not believe God ever made any one
to be a slave." The reader will easily see, that such little
conversations with my play fellows, had no tendency to weaken my
love of liberty, nor to render me contented with my condition as
a slave.

When I was about thirteen years old, and had succeeded in
learning to read, every increase of knowledge, especially
respecting the FREE STATES, added something to the almost
intolerable burden of the thought--I AM A SLAVE FOR LIFE. To my
bondage I saw no end. It was a terrible reality, and I shall
never be able to tell how sadly that thought chafed my young
spirit. Fortunately, or unfortunately, about this time in my
life, I had made enough money to buy what was then a very popular
school book, viz: the _Columbian Orator_. I bought this addition
to my library, of Mr. Knight, on Thames street, Fell's Point,
Baltimore, and paid him fifty cents for it. I was first led to
buy this book, by hearing some little boys say they were going to
learn some little pieces out of it for the Exhibition. This
volume was, indeed, a rich treasure, and every opportunity
afforded me, for <123 _The Columbian Orator_--A DIALOGUE>a time,
was spent in diligently perusing it. Among much other
interesting matter, that which I had perused and reperused with
unflagging satisfaction, was a short dialogue between a master
and his slave. The slave is represented as having been
recaptured, in a second attempt to run away; and the master opens
the dialogue with an upbraiding speech, charging the slave with
ingratitude, and demanding to know what he has to say in his own
defense. Thus upbraided, and thus called upon to reply, the
slave rejoins, that he knows how little anything that he can say
will avail, seeing that he is completely in the hands of his
owner; and with noble resolution, calmly says, "I submit to my
fate." Touched by the slave's answer, the master insists upon
his further speaking, and recapitulates the many acts of kindness
which he has performed toward the slave, and tells him he is
permitted to speak for himself. Thus invited to the debate, the
quondam slave made a spirited defense of himself, and thereafter
the whole argument, for and against slavery, was brought out.
The master was vanquished at every turn in the argument; and
seeing himself to be thus vanquished, he generously and meekly
emancipates the slave, with his best wishes for his prosperity.
It is scarcely neccessary{sic} to say, that a dialogue, with such
an origin, and such an ending--read when the fact of my being a
slave was a constant burden of grief--powerfully affected me; and
I could not help feeling that the day might come, when the well-
directed answers made by the slave to the master, in this
instance, would find their counterpart in myself.

This, however, was not all the fanaticism which I found in this
_Columbian Orator_. I met there one of Sheridan's mighty
speeches, on the subject of Catholic Emancipation, Lord Chatham's
speech on the American war, and speeches by the great William
Pitt and by Fox. These were all choice documents to me, and I
read them, over and over again, with an interest that was ever
increasing, because it was ever gaining in intelligence; for the
more I read them, the better I understood them. The reading of
<124>these speeches added much to my limited stock of language,
and enabled me to give tongue to many interesting thoughts, which
had frequently flashed through my soul, and died away for want of
utterance. The mighty power and heart-searching directness of
truth, penetrating even the heart of a slaveholder, compelling
him to yield up his earthly interests to the claims of eternal
justice, were finely illustrated in the dialogue, just referred
to; and from the speeches of Sheridan, I got a bold and powerful
denunciation of oppression, and a most brilliant vindication of
the rights of man. Here was, indeed, a noble acquisition. If I
ever wavered under the consideration, that the Almighty, in some
way, ordained slavery, and willed my enslavement for his own
glory, I wavered no longer. I had now penetrated the secret of
all slavery and oppression, and had ascertained their true
foundation to be in the pride, the power and the avarice of man.
The dialogue and the speeches were all redolent of the principles
of liberty, and poured floods of light on the nature and
character of slavery. With a book of this kind in my hand, my
own human nature, and the facts of my experience, to help me, I
was equal to a contest with the religious advocates of slavery,
whether among the whites or among the colored people, for
blindness, in this matter, is not confined to the former. I have
met many religious colored people, at the south, who are under
the delusion that God requires them to submit to slavery, and to
wear their chains with meekness and humility. I could entertain
no such nonsense as this; and I almost lost my patience when I
found any colored man weak enough to believe such stuff.
Nevertheless, the increase of knowledge was attended with bitter,
as well as sweet results. The more I read, the more I was led to
abhor and detest slavery, and my enslavers. "Slaveholders,"
thought I, "are only a band of successful robbers, who left their
homes and went into Africa for the purpose of stealing and
reducing my people to slavery." I loathed them as the meanest
and the most wicked of men. As I read, behold! the very
discontent so graphically pre<125 MY EYES OPENED>dicted by Master
Hugh, had already come upon me. I was no longer the light-
hearted, gleesome boy, full of mirth and play, as when I landed
first at Baltimore. Knowledge had come; light had penetrated the
moral dungeon where I dwelt; and, behold! there lay the bloody
whip, for my back, and here was the iron chain; and my good,
_kind master_, he was the author of my situation. The revelation
haunted me, stung me, and made me gloomy and miserable. As I
writhed under the sting and torment of this knowledge, I almost
envied my fellow slaves their stupid contentment. This knowledge
opened my eyes to the horrible pit, and revealed the teeth of the
frightful dragon that was ready to pounce upon me, but it opened
no way for my escape. I have often wished myself a beast, or a
bird--anything, rather than a slave. I was wretched and gloomy,
beyond my ability to describe. I was too thoughtful to be happy.
It was this everlasting thinking which distressed and tormented
me; and yet there was no getting rid of the subject of my
thoughts. All nature was redolent of it. Once awakened by the
silver trump of knowledge, my spirit was roused to eternal
wakefulness. Liberty! the inestimable birthright of every man,
had, for me, converted every object into an asserter of this
great right. It was heard in every sound, and beheld in every
object. It was ever present, to torment me with a sense of my
wretched condition. The more beautiful and charming were the
smiles of nature, the more horrible and desolate was my
condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, and I heard nothing
without hearing it. I do not exaggerate, when I say, that it
looked from every star, smiled in every calm, breathed in every
wind, and moved in every storm.

I have no doubt that my state of mind had something to do with
the change in the treatment adopted, by my once kind mistress
toward me. I can easily believe, that my leaden, downcast, and
discontented look, was very offensive to her. Poor lady! She
did not know my trouble, and I dared not tell her. Could I have
freely made her acquainted with the real state of my mind, and
<126>given her the reasons therefor, it might have been well for
both of us. Her abuse of me fell upon me like the blows of the
false prophet upon his ass; she did not know that an _angel_
stood in the way; and--such is the relation of master and slave I
could not tell her. Nature had made us _friends;_ slavery made
us _enemies_. My interests were in a direction opposite to hers,
and we both had our private thoughts and plans. She aimed to
keep me ignorant; and I resolved to know, although knowledge only
increased my discontent. My feelings were not the result of any
marked cruelty in the treatment I received; they sprung from the
consideration of my being a slave at all. It was _slavery_--not
its mere _incidents_--that I hated. I had been cheated. I saw
through the attempt to keep me in ignorance; I saw that
slaveholders would have gladly made me believe that they were
merely acting under the authority of God, in making a slave of
me, and in making slaves of others; and I treated them as robbers
and deceivers. The feeding and clothing me well, could not atone
for taking my liberty from me. The smiles of my mistress could
not remove the deep sorrow that dwelt in my young bosom. Indeed,
these, in time, came only to deepen my sorrow. She had changed;
and the reader will see that I had changed, too. We were both
victims to the same overshadowing evil--_she_, as mistress, I, as
slave. I will not censure her harshly; she cannot censure me,
for she knows I speak but the truth, and have acted in my
opposition to slavery, just as she herself would have acted, in a
reverse of circumstances.

CHAPTER XII
_Religious Nature Awakened_

ABOLITIONISTS SPOKEN OF--MY EAGERNESS TO KNOW WHAT THIS WORD
MEANT--MY CONSULTATION OF THE DICTIONARY--INCENDIARY
INFORMATION--HOW AND WHERE DERIVED--THE ENIGMA SOLVED--NATHANIEL
TURNER'S INSURRECTION--THE CHOLERA--RELIGION--FIRST AWAKENED BY A
METHODIST MINISTER NAMED HANSON--MY DEAR AND GOOD OLD COLORED
FRIEND, LAWSON--HIS CHARACTER AND OCCUPATION--HIS INFLUENCE OVER
ME--OUR MUTUAL ATTACHMENT--THE COMFORT I DERIVED FROM HIS
TEACHING--NEW HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS--HEAVENLY LIGHT AMIDST
EARTHLY DARKNESS--THE TWO IRISHMEN ON THE WHARF--THEIR
CONVERSATION--HOW I LEARNED TO WRITE--WHAT WERE MY AIMS.

Whilst in the painful state of mind described in the foregoing
chapter, almost regretting my very existence, because doomed to a
life of bondage, so goaded and so wretched, at times, that I was
even tempted to destroy my own life, I was keenly sensitive and
eager to know any, and every thing that transpired, having any
relation to the subject of slavery. I was all ears, all eyes,
whenever the words _slave, slavery_, dropped from the lips of any
white person, and the occasions were not unfrequent when these
words became leading ones, in high, social debate, at our house.
Every little while, I could hear Master Hugh, or some of his
company, speaking with much warmth and excitement about
_"abolitionists."_ Of _who_ or _what_ these were, I was totally
ignorant. I found, however, that whatever they might be, they
were most cordially hated and soundly abused by slaveholders, of
every grade. I very soon discovered, too, that slavery was, in
some <128>sort, under consideration, whenever the abolitionists
were alluded to. This made the term a very interesting one to
me. If a slave, for instance, had made good his escape from
slavery, it was generally alleged, that he had been persuaded and
assisted by the abolitionists. If, also, a slave killed his
master--as was sometimes the case--or struck down his overseer,
or set fire to his master's dwelling, or committed any violence
or crime, out of the common way, it was certain to be said, that
such a crime was the legitimate fruits of the abolition movement.
Hearing such charges often repeated, I, naturally enough,
received the impression that abolition--whatever else it might
be--could not be unfriendly to the slave, nor very friendly to
the slaveholder. I therefore set about finding out, if possible,
_who_ and _what_ the abolitionists were, and _why_ they were so
obnoxious to the slaveholders. The dictionary afforded me very
little help. It taught me that abolition was the "act of
abolishing;" but it left me in ignorance at the very point where
I most wanted information--and that was, as to the _thing_ to be
abolished. A city newspaper, the _Baltimore American_, gave me
the incendiary information denied me by the dictionary. In its
columns I found, that, on a certain day, a vast number of
petitions and memorials had been presented to congress, praying
for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, and for
the abolition of the slave trade between the states of the Union.
This was enough. The vindictive bitterness, the marked caution,
the studied reverse, and the cumbrous ambiguity, practiced by our
white folks, when alluding to this subject, was now fully
explained. Ever, after that, when I heard the words "abolition,"
or "abolition movement," mentioned, I felt the matter one of a
personal concern; and I drew near to listen, when I could do so,
without seeming too solicitous and prying. There was HOPE in
those words. Ever and anon, too, I could see some terrible
denunciation of slavery, in our papers--copied from abolition
papers at the north--and the injustice of such denunciation
commented on. These I read with avidity. <129 ABOLITIONISM--THE
ENIGMA SOLVED>I had a deep satisfaction in the thought, that the
rascality of slaveholders was not concealed from the eyes of the
world, and that I was not alone in abhorring the cruelty and
brutality of slavery. A still deeper train of thought was
stirred. I saw that there was _fear_, as well as _rage_, in the
manner of speaking of the abolitionists. The latter, therefore,
I was compelled to regard as having some power in the country;
and I felt that they might, possibly, succeed in their designs.
When I met with a slave to whom I deemed it safe to talk on the
subject, I would impart to him so much of the mystery as I had
been able to penetrate. Thus, the light of this grand movement
broke in upon my mind, by degrees; and I must say, that, ignorant
as I then was of the philosophy of that movement, I believe in it
from the first--and I believed in it, partly, because I saw that
it alarmed the consciences of slaveholders. The insurrection of
Nathaniel Turner had been quelled, but the alarm and terror had
not subsided. The cholera was on its way, and the thought was
present, that God was angry with the white people because of
their slaveholding wickedness, and, therefore, his judgments were
abroad in the land. It was impossible for me not to hope much
from the abolition movement, when I saw it supported by the
Almighty, and armed with DEATH!

Previous to my contemplation of the anti-slavery movement, and
its probable results, my mind had been seriously awakened to the
subject of religion. I was not more than thirteen years old,
when I felt the need of God, as a father and protector. My
religious nature was awakened by the preaching of a white
Methodist minister, named Hanson. He thought that all men, great
and small, bond and free, were sinners in the sight of God; that
they were, by nature, rebels against His government; and that
they must repent of their sins, and be reconciled to God, through
Christ. I cannot say that I had a very distinct notion of what
was required of me; but one thing I knew very well--I was
wretched, and had no means of making myself otherwise. Moreover,
I knew that I could pray for light. I consulted a good colored
man, named <130>Charles Johnson; and, in tones of holy affection,
he told me to pray, and what to pray for. I was, for weeks, a
poor, brokenhearted mourner, traveling through the darkness and
misery of doubts and fears. I finally found that change of heart
which comes by "casting all one's care" upon God, and by having
faith in Jesus Christ, as the Redeemer, Friend, and Savior of
those who diligently seek Him.

After this, I saw the world in a new light. I seemed to live in
a new world, surrounded by new objects, and to be animated by new
hopes and desires. I loved all mankind--slaveholders not
excepted; though I abhorred slavery more than ever. My great
concern was, now, to have the world converted. The desire for
knowledge increased, and especially did I want a thorough
acquaintance with the contents of the bible. I have gathered
scattered pages from this holy book, from the filthy street
gutters of Baltimore, and washed and dried them, that in the
moments of my leisure, I might get a word or two of wisdom from
them. While thus religiously seeking knowledge, I became
acquainted with a good old colored man, named Lawson. A more
devout man than he, I never saw. He drove a dray for Mr. James
Ramsey, the owner of a rope-walk on Fell's Point, Baltimore.
This man not only prayed three time a day, but he prayed as he
walked through the streets, at his work--on his dray everywhere.
His life was a life of prayer, and his words (when he spoke to
his friends,) were about a better world. Uncle Lawson lived near
Master Hugh's house; and, becoming deeply attached to the old
man, I went often with him to prayer-meeting, and spent much of
my leisure time with him on Sunday. The old man could read a
little, and I was a great help to him, in making out the hard
words, for I was a better reader than he. I could teach him
_"the letter,"_ but he could teach me _"the spirit;"_ and high,
refreshing times we had together, in singing, praying and
glorifying God. These meetings with Uncle Lawson went on for a
long time, without the knowledge of Master Hugh or my mistress.
Both knew, how<131 FATHER LAWSON--OUR ATTACHMENT>ever, that I had
become religious, and they seemed to respect my conscientious
piety. My mistress was still a professor of religion, and
belonged to class. Her leader was no less a person than the Rev.
Beverly Waugh, the presiding elder, and now one of the bishops of
the Methodist Episcopal church. Mr. Waugh was then stationed
over Wilk street church. I am careful to state these facts, that
the reader may be able to form an idea of the precise influences
which had to do with shaping and directing my mind.

In view of the cares and anxieties incident to the life she was
then leading, and, especially, in view of the separation from
religious associations to which she was subjected, my mistress
had, as I have before stated, become lukewarm, and needed to be
looked up by her leader. This brought Mr. Waugh to our house,
and gave me an opportunity to hear him exhort and pray. But my
chief instructor, in matters of religion, was Uncle Lawson. He
was my spiritual father; and I loved him intensely, and was at
his house every chance I got.

This pleasure was not long allowed me. Master Hugh became averse
to my going to Father Lawson's, and threatened to whip me if I
ever went there again. I now felt myself persecuted by a wicked
man; and I _would_ go to Father Lawson's, notwithstanding the
threat. The good old man had told me, that the "Lord had a great
work for me to do;" and I must prepare to do it; and that he had
been shown that I must preach the gospel. His words made a deep
impression on my mind, and I verily felt that some such work was
before me, though I could not see _how_ I should ever engage in
its performance. "The good Lord," he said, "would bring it to
pass in his own good time," and that I must go on reading and
studying the scriptures. The advice and the suggestions of Uncle
Lawson, were not without their influence upon my character and
destiny. He threw my thoughts into a channel from which they
have never entirely diverged. He fanned my already intense love
of knowledge into a flame, by assuring me that I was to be a
useful man in the world. When I would <132>say to him, "How can
these things be and what can _I_ do?" his simple reply was,
_"Trust in the Lord."_ When I told him that "I was a slave, and
a slave FOR LIFE," he said, "the Lord can make you free, my dear.
All things are possible with him, only _have faith in God."_
"Ask, and it shall be given." "If you want liberty," said the
good old man, "ask the Lord for it, _in faith_, AND HE WILL GIVE
IT TO YOU."

Thus assured, and cheered on, under the inspiration of hope, I
worked and prayed with a light heart, believing that my life was
under the guidance of a wisdom higher than my own. With all
other blessings sought at the mercy seat, I always prayed that
God would, of His great mercy, and in His own good time, deliver
me from my bondage.

I went, one day, on the wharf of Mr. Waters; and seeing two
Irishmen unloading a large scow of stone, or ballast I went on
board, unasked, and helped them. When we had finished the work,
one of the men came to me, aside, and asked me a number of
questions, and among them, if I were a slave. I told him "I was
a slave, and a slave for life." The good Irishman gave his
shoulders a shrug, and seemed deeply affected by the statement.
He said, "it was a pity so fine a little fellow as myself should
be a slave for life." They both had much to say about the
matter, and expressed the deepest sympathy with me, and the most
decided hatred of slavery. They went so far as to tell me that I
ought to run away, and go to the north; that I should find
friends there, and that I would be as free as anybody. I,
however, pretended not to be interested in what they said, for I
feared they might be treacherous. White men have been known to
encourage slaves to escape, and then--to get the reward--they
have kidnapped them, and returned them to their masters. And
while I mainly inclined to the notion that these men were honest
and meant me no ill, I feared it might be otherwise. I
nevertheless remembered their words and their advice, and looked
forward to an escape to the north, as a possible means of gaining
the liberty <133 HOW I LEARNED TO WRITE>for which my heart
panted. It was not my enslavement, at the then present time,
that most affected me; the being a slave _for life_, was the
saddest thought. I was too young to think of running away
immediately; besides, I wished to learn how to write, before
going, as I might have occasion to write my own pass. I now not
only had the hope of freedom, but a foreshadowing of the means by
which I might, some day, gain that inestimable boon. Meanwhile,
I resolved to add to my educational attainments the art of
writing.

After this manner I began to learn to write: I was much in the
ship yard--Master Hugh's, and that of Durgan & Bailey--and I
observed that the carpenters, after hewing and getting a piece of
timber ready for use, wrote on it the initials of the name of
that part of the ship for which it was intended. When, for
instance, a piece of timber was ready for the starboard side, it
was marked with a capital "S." A piece for the larboard side was
marked "L;" larboard forward, "L. F.;" larboard aft, was marked
"L. A.;" starboard aft, "S. A.;" and starboard forward "S. F." I
soon learned these letters, and for what they were placed on the
timbers.

My work was now, to keep fire under the steam box, and to watch
the ship yard while the carpenters had gone to dinner. This
interval gave me a fine opportunity for copying the letters
named. I soon astonished myself with the ease with which I made
the letters; and the thought was soon present, "if I can make
four, I can make more." But having made these easily, when I met
boys about Bethel church, or any of our play-grounds, I entered
the lists with them in the art of writing, and would make the
letters which I had been so fortunate as to learn, and ask them
to "beat that if they could." With playmates for my teachers,
fences and pavements for my copy books, and chalk for my pen and
ink, I learned the art of writing. I, however, afterward adopted
various methods of improving my hand. The most successful, was
copying the _italics_ in Webster's spelling book, until <134>I
could make them all without looking on the book. By this time,
my little "Master Tommy" had grown to be a big boy, and had
written over a number of copy books, and brought them home. They
had been shown to the neighbors, had elicited due praise, and
were now laid carefully away. Spending my time between the ship
yard and house, I was as often the lone keeper of the latter as
of the former. When my mistress left me in charge of the house,
I had a grand time; I got Master Tommy's copy books and a pen and
ink, and, in the ample spaces between the lines, I wrote other
lines, as nearly like his as possible. The process was a tedious
one, and I ran the risk of getting a flogging for marring the
highly prized copy books of the oldest son. In addition to those
opportunities, sleeping, as I did, in the kitchen loft--a room
seldom visited by any of the family--I got a flour barrel up
there, and a chair; and upon the head of that barrel I have
written (or endeavored to write) copying from the bible and the
Methodist hymn book, and other books which had accumulated on my
hands, till late at night, and when all the family were in bed
and asleep. I was supported in my endeavors by renewed advice,
and by holy promises from the good Father Lawson, with whom I
continued to meet, and pray, and read the scriptures. Although
Master Hugh was aware of my going there, I must say, for his
credit, that he never executed his threat to whip me, for having
thus, innocently, employed-my leisure time.

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